#when was the last time i drew them talking in german

[hearties-circus]

Fayes first day on base

[muldj0rd]

What's Your Type? || Sebmark

Mark was an attractive man, nobody could deny that, and if he did, they’d be lying. As a result of this, Mark was always approached by both women and men looking for a good night

Sebastian knew this. Sebastian and Mark weren’t together, they barely even talked a lot, but the thought of Mark fucking somebody else than Sebastian, made the blonde’s blood boil till he overheated

Sebastian had tried multiple times to get closer to Mark, but the way the Aussie looked at him was too intimidating, yet, the German got so turned on when he looked at him like that

It was embarrassing how jealous Sebastian got when he saw various girls and guys walk over to Mark when they were out celebrating after a good race

Mark could get any of the people who walked over to him, but for some reason, he had turned them all down. Every single one of them. Sebastian wanted to know why but never dared to ask

He had told himself that tonight. Tonight was the night he was gonna ask… He just needed a little more alcohol inside him before he could get the courage to be under his intimidating stare without getting a hardon you could see from a mile away

The clock had hit around 2 in the morning, and everybody had started going back to their hotels, getting some rest before their flight to the UK

Sebastian drowned the last bit of his drink before he placed the empty glass on the bar counter and walked over to the booth Mark was sitting at, alone since the others had abandoned him to go before they got too drunk

Mark merely looked at Sebastian. He didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at him the way he normally did

“Mate, I'm warning you. I’m really drunk” Mark said, his accent thickened by the alcohol

“Yeah, that’s fine, I just wanna ask you something” Mark leaned back into his seat, looking at Sebastian across the table “Why? Why do you turn everybody away who walks up to you? They clearly want to get into your pants, and you could get any of them, yet, you turn them all away” Sebastian yapped quickly, confused by his teammate's actions

“They’re not my type” He shrugged

Not his type? Sebastian had noticed that, from the girls' side, they were all different, but the guys, they were all tall, muscular, fit, full of themselves, brunette, brown eyes “What is your type?”

It was only now that Mark looked at him the way he normally did. Sebastian squirmed in his seat, he might even have let out a whimper if you listened closely enough

Mark looked Sebastian up and down the best he could with the table blocking his lower body “Short, blonde, blue eyes, not someone who hits the gym every waking out” Mark hit Sebastian’s foot with his own, playing it off as an accident “A twink” He said, making intense eye contact with Sebastian as he took a sip of the alcohol in his glass

Sebastian’s cheek heated up with a slight blush, as well as it crept down his neck. It wasn’t noticeable if you were starting a few feet away, but with how close the two were sitting across from each other, it was very noticeable for the Aussie

It drew out a chuckle from him as he saw the change of colour in the German’s cheeks

The kiss was messy from the start, even more so as they stumbled into one of their hotel rooms. It was wet, sloppy, and uncoordinated. Both sets of hands all over each other

Sebastian had pressed Mark up against the wall and gotten on his knees quicker than what wouldn’t have hurt him

Mark’s one hand had drawn through Sebastian’s hair, pulling at it softly as Sebastian’s small hands worked on the Aussie’s belt, looking up at him through hooded eyelids, looking so innocent, even with their mixed spit running down his chin from the messy kiss

“Fuck. You’re so pretty like this, Seb” Mark breathed out, almost a breathy moan as Sebastian had gotten Mark’s jeans and boxers down to his mid-thighs

Sebastian whined at Mark’s words, feeling his hand tugging on his hair as he spit in the palm of his hand, slowly getting Mark fully hard

“F-fuck” His breath shuttered as Sebastian’s thumb went over his tip “God. You’re so good at that” Mark smiled as Sebastian slowly circled his tongue around the head

Sebastian smiled as well as he could while taking all of Mark into his mouth that he could, putting his hand around the rest he couldn’t fit

Sebastian started moving, gaging ever so slightly as he could feel Mark hitting the back of his throat

Mark groaned every time he hit Sebastian’s throat as it sent vibrations all through his cock and up his spine, pulling him closer to the edge, making him tighten his hand in Sebastian’s hair, making the German moan around the cock in his mouth

Mark forced Sebastian off of him, panting hard. He looked down at where Sebastian sat, lips puffy, spit down his cheek, hair messy, eyes watering from the force in his throat and the sting in the scalp of his hair

“Fuck, you’re good at that” He chuckled, stroking his thumb over Sebastian’s cheek

“Thank you” He smiled slightly, going toward Mark again, trying to get his mouth on him

“Don’t. Gonna make me come” He was still panting hard

“Isn’t that the point, no?” Sebastian asked with a confused expression

“I’m an old man, Seb. I can’t go multiple rounds” His breathing had settled somewhat back to normal “Strip and get on the bed” Sebastian didn’t hesitate to take off his clothes and get on the bed, laying on his back

Mark slowly walked over to him, getting his own clothes off at a painfully slow speed

The moment Mark slightly hovered over Sebastian’s naked body, he had his legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer

“Seb, no need to rush” Mark said, kissing the blonde’s neck, drawing whimpers from him

“Please, I just want you inside me. Please” Sebastian begged, bucking his hips up, hoping for some friction

Mark didn’t see it, but he could feel Sebastian scramble on the bed

“Mark, please. I just need you inside me, bitte” He whined, pressing the bottle of lube into the Aussie’s hand

“Give me a pillow” Mark said, leaning back to take a proper look at him

He put the pillow under his hips, getting Sebastian in an ankle where Mark would hit him in the perfect spot with ease

Mark poured some of the lube onto his fingers, warming it up a bit before pressing one to his rim, making Sebastian whimper and grip the sheets beneath him

He entered his first finger, holding onto Sebastian’s thigh with the other hand, digging his nails softly into his skin

He twisted his finger, getting Sebastian adjusted before he started moving it, hearing all the whimpers that he drew out of the German

Mark slowly pushed a second finger into him, drawing out a moan from Sebastian at the suddennessnness

He slowly started moving his fingers, stretching him out so beautifully. He curled his fingers, hitting just the right spot inside Sebastian that made him almost scream out his moans and his body shake

Mark entered his third finger, even though Sebastian had said multiple times he was ready. Poor judgment had Mark thought

“Mark, please I’m ready. Bitte, bitte. Please” Mark finally gave in to Sebastian’s pretty begging. He curled his fingers one last time before he pulled them out, earning him a whine from the man under him

He wiped off his fingers on Sebastian’s thigh, making him squirm under his touch

Sebastian looked up at Mark as he poured lube onto himself. He gave himself a few pumps with his hand before he lined himself up with Sebastian’s hole

Sebastian whines and whimpers as Mark slowly pushes into him. He groaned himself as he pushed all the way in. He held his hips still, getting the German to adjust to him

A few seconds went by before Sebastian told him he could move. He didn’t hesitate and started moving slowly

He grabbed Sebastian’s hips tightly, digging his nails into his skin, most definitely leaving marks for him to see tomorrow

As he started setting a faster and rougher pace, he had found his prostate, drawing out the most beautiful loud moans Mark had ever heard

“Fuck, you sound so pretty, baby” He said, shifting his weight onto his left arm, hovering over him, speeding his hips up more

“Fuck, Mark. Please- ‘m so close” Sebastian pleaded between his moans, wanting his release

“Hold on for me a little longer, okay?” Sebastian managed to nod a few times, even as his body shook rapidly beneath Mark, trying to hold his orgasm back

Hi attempt to hold it back, made him clench hard and fast down onto Mark, pulling him closer to his release as well

“You’re so- Fuck, you feel so good” He groaned, putting his hand around Sebastian’s cock, slowly starting to stroke him “Come for me” Sebastian didn’t need any more confirmation before he came, shooting his load onto his stomach and down Mark’s hand

Mark wasn’t long behind. He managed a few more thrusts before he stilled his hips and came deep inside Sebastian with a deep groan

As he felt himself soften, he pulled out of Sebastian, not missing the small whine that escaped from his plump lips. He laid down beside him, propping himself up on his arm “You’re real pretty, you know that?” Mark asked, causing a giggle from Sebastian who rolled over as well

“You’re drunk,” He said, smiling nonetheless

“Yeah, but I know what I'm talking about,” He said, placing a kiss against his lips, hand into his hair, messing it up even more. He pulled back and went to find a damp towel to clean them both up with

“How long?” Sebastian asked as Mark pulled his body into his own “How long have i been your type?” He clarified, letting hi head fall into the crook of Mark’s neck

“Ever since i laid my eyes on you the first time”

[schumachersricciardo]

Shiver

Chapter Six - You’re All I’ve Ever Known

♡ Mick Schumacher x Reader, Best friend!Danny Ricc x reader

♡ TW: Swearing, inaccurate timeline of F1/F2/F3, badly translated German using Google, blood/injuries (not graphic, but there is are mentions of it!), i forgot how many days elapsed between scenes bc i wrote this in like two days. so ya know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. INACCURATE DESCRIPTIONS OF ENGLAND???? I literally made up street names and i think a school, so don’t come for me. I’m just a girl. plus i’m american so like we already have enough on our plates. Ummm slight kidnapping vibes??? very inaccurate and probably wrong medical talk.

♡ She/Her pronouns are used, nothing descriptive about reader except that her hair is long enough to pull back into a ponytail or braid, no reader insert, timeline skips. ALSO: WARNING!!!! I will barely be mentioning Michael Schumacher. I do not presume to know what he is thinking, or would say in these fictional scenarios. I am trying to be respectful of their privacy and not make any assumptions!!!!!! He will be mentioned here and there, but I do not believe any dialogue will be associated with him. If you do not like that, then do not read it. :)

♡ 6.3k words

♡A/N: Again, posting this on mobile and will format it when i get back from work! sorry it’s a day late. yesterday was very bad lol ok love u bye

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It seemed like there was never going to be an end to the poking, the prodding, and testing on your body. Everyday, there was to be a new test or a repeat of an old one to be done. On top of already having been in the hospital for more than two weeks now, your memory was still not coming back to you. Sometimes someone would say something and if it as if your brain knew the memory tied to it, but it couldn’t relay it to your voice fast enough to recollect it. You didn’t know what was worse at this point:

“No, no threes. Go fish.” Your Uncle Sebastian echoed, stopping your train of thought.

Trying to focus your eyes, you looked at the pile of cards in front of you and drew another one.

“Do you… Have any… sixes?”

The four time champion just smiled and slid over some of his cards. You neatly made a pile of your finished “sixes” cards. Moments later, there was a slight knock on the door before it slowly pushed open towards the two of you.

“Hi, Mrs. Schumacher. It’s good to you see you again.”

So here’s the thing - You had been called that many times now. Almost every nurse and doctor has called you that… And since you had no room to counter, you never corrected them. Who knows? Maybe you and Mick actually got married after high school like the two of you talked about. And as weird as it was for you to be called that… It certainly felt right and didn’t make you feel uncomfortable - which of course made things curious and curioser.

“Mrs.… Schumacher??” Sebastian Vettel put his cards down and eyed the nurse and the doctor. There was a look on their faces that you couldn’t quite place.

“So sorry, no,” The doctor began correcting his mistake. He finally addressed you by your first and last name. “I’m sorry, again. Mr. Schumacher is your medical proxy and I forget that those in fact, do not have to be spouses.”

The doctor nervously chuckled as he prepared various medicinal instruments. It would happened two times a day where they’d check your cognitive function and your response to stimuli. Sometimes you’d say things that were a memory, but moments later you forget you said that. You even had times where Mick was in the same room, and you had forgotten who he was so you called him… Pleading for him to come back and comfort you.

He was the only constant in your life.

The doctor and nurses finished their exam and let you get back to your card game. You had no memory of the man who sat across from you, even though he said he was like family to Mick and that he knew you when you were little. He’d tell you stories about his time in Formula One, and how he’s focused on sustainability now and finding new hobbies. You truly were delighted in the presence of this man, but deep down inside you wished that Mick were there.

He had some press releases to do, as his racing came to halt when you crashed out in Silverstone. He was planning on racing the last 5 races as you were getting better now. Well, physically. Your leg was almost ready to be put in a regular soft cast once the rods would be removed. Your arm was out of its cast completely, and it seemed like your ribs and spine were doing okay. It was just your dumb brain that needing fixing.

“You alright?” Soon, Sebastian’s voice pulled you out of your endless thinking. “We can stop, if you’d like. I think you are beating me, anyway.”

Silently, you put down your cards and pushed the tray that was on wheels aside. You didn’t know what was coming over you. You felt an immense sadness and regret, but you didn’t know why. You were lost. Having your memories stripped of you is such a cruel fate… You rather have just not survived.

“I’m not good enough for him.” You plainly stated.

Sebastian blinked a few times as he put down his playing cards as well. He took a deep breath and tried his best to comfort you.

“Why do you say that? He’s been here every day since you crashed.” Sebastian’s tone was cautious, but caring.

“i mean… Look at me? I have rods sticking out of my leg… And I can’t remember shit. It’s pathetic.”

The former F1 didn’t have a response. He couldn’t imagine what you were going through, let alone the both of you. He just gently reassured you with a grasp of his hand on yours. Before you knew it, even his thoughts were halted by someone entering your hospital room.

“Hello, ma’am, I’m Nurse Elsie.” The brunette nurse beamed at you, and took the clipboard off of the end of the bed. “Do you remember who I am?” Her British accent was thick… You couldn’t place from where though.

You paused and did your best to remember someone named Elsie.

“You-You were there when I first woke up… And you were telling me to stay calm…”

The nurse’s expression immediately turned. Complete surprise and bliss overtook her as she grinned at you and Sebastian. She grabbed your hands ever so softly and opened her mouth to speak.

“Yes, that’s correct! I was here the day you came in, and I haven’t left since.” It truly warmed your heart to see someone that hardworking have some sense of relief. “And I am glad you’re speaking English again!”

“Was… I not before?” Your eyebrows furrowed and your focused shifted to Sebastian. He pressed his lips in a tight line, debating if he should answer for you when Mick wasn’t there.

Clearing his throat, he straightened his posture and exhaled.

“When you first woke up, you were only speaking in German. Mick had to translate for you for a while, until you felt comfortable enough to speak English again.” Vettel calmly responds, his hand scratching at the stubble on his jawline. You nodded along while he explained a few more things to you.

About twenty minutes later after another few tests were done, you were absolutely exhausted. You tucked yourself into the hospital bed with one of Mick’s blankets added to the pile for extra warmth. His scent was wearing off of the blanket as you pulled it up to your chin. Mick was familiar to you, and to your feelings - Yet, part of him remained a stranger. He was older, well you both were now.

He was not the shy little school boy anymore, but a confident young man. His muscles had grown noticeably and his hair was long, like you liked it. His jawline had formed into sharp corners where it meets his ears, as opposed to the chubby faced kid who would ride his bike alongside you and hold your hand in crowded places so you wouldn’t get lost. On the other hand and maybe the stronger one at that, you didn’t recognize him at all. Sure, he looked like Mick and sounded like him… But there was a piece missing to the dynamic between the two of you that you couldn’t quite place.

When he would be in the hospital room with you, it was almost as if he was treating you with a fragility that was completely peculiar to the way your foggy memory could recall him treating you. He was always kind and always held a special tenderness for you, that much you could remember… But be that as it may, he was handling you now with a delicate hand - so afraid of breaking you further. You couldn’t tell from where you sat if it was because of your injuries that he was being extra careful around you, or because there was something he wasn’t telling you.

“Knock, Knock.” The familiar voice of another doctor entered your stumbling train of thought as they entered your room. Sebastian stood to greet her and shake her hand.

“How are you feeling today, ma’am?” You shrugged and mumbled something incoherent. “Right then! My name is Doctor Wells. I’m the Chief of Neurology, and have been following your case closely.”

You honestly were having a tough time keeping all these doctors and nurses straight in your head, that you thought adding one more to the list might make you explode. But still - you politely greeted her as you told her your name.

“You’ve been making great progress physically, it seems. Your leg will be moved to a soft cast in two days time, and then in about a month, we’ll x-ray your leg to see when we would take that cast off, but again, it’s looking good.” The doctor smiled as her green eyes scanned the clipboard in front of her.

She began to hum to yourself as she jotted down some notes. You immediately noticed it, and Sebastian immediately noticed you. It was as though you couldn’t breathe all of a sudden and you had no clue as to why. Your monitors began to beep at a rapid rate, while the voices around you were telling you things but you couldn’t hear them. All you could hear was a loud, sharp and lasting ringing in your eyes as you sobbed. Soon, you felt the calming medicine go through your IV and settle your heart rate. It took a few more minutes to gain your bearings.

“Es tut mir Leid (I’m sorry).” You breathed out as you laid back down trying to get comfortable again.

Sebastian excused himself to go make a phone call, assuring you that he’d be back in a few minutes.

“That’s quite alright. Your body has been through a lot these last few weeks.” Dr. Wells smiled at you with an overwhelming aura of reassurance. She took a beat, and pulled up her rolling stool next to your bedside. “May I ask what I did to trigger that reaction? I want to know so I won’t do it again.”

You turned your head to meet her gaze, her eyes filled with worry and sympathy. You tried your best to think about the answer to her question. She could practically hear the gears turning in your head while you attempted to pinpoint what it was that upset you.

“The humming… When you hummed… It… I don’t know - did something to me.” Dr. Wells nodded in response and promise that she wouldn’t do it again. “Can I ask you a question, Dr. Wells?”

“Anything at all.”

You moved your hospital bed up so you could sit up and see the doctor better. You had very little to go on, but what you could go off of confidently was people’s expressions and the way their faces moved when they spoke to you.

“What are my chances of getting my memory back, and if I don’t… What do I do?” In turn, your facial expression was desperate, reeking of hopelessness and despair. She could see the devastation the accident has brought you, as it seeped out of the pores of your skin and infected your surroundings.

“Well, you’re making good progress and you remember Nurse Elsie which is a great sign… And the fact that you still know who Mick is a great sign,” Dr. Wells began slowly. “But, we really won’t know the extent of the damage the crash took, especially in regard to your memory. All your brain scans have thus far been clean, with no cause for concern.”

You started to feel tears brimming in your eyes as you bit your bottom lip to try and stifle back your cries. Shakily, you let out whatever air you had left in your lungs now.

“Sometimes things like this just happen and we don’t know why… But what we do know is that memories can always be created. You may not be able to remember the ones you had previously, but you can always replace them with new ones, better ones even.”

The pair of you talked for a few minutes more about your situation and how best to help it. She gave you some flyers for support groups and some numbers for therapists that specialize in what you were going through. She checked your vitals once more before heading towards the door and exiting, smiling a courteous smile as she disappeared into the vast hospital.

On the rare occasion you were left alone in your room, you liked to write things down in a notebook Mick gave you. It was your favorite color, with a giant ‘MSC47’ sticker on it. You had asked him what that was and he told you it was his racing number. To that, you asked why he didn’t put your racing number… And in response to that, he sheepishly admitted that it slipped his mind to put your number, but he was glad you always had a reminder of him. You didn’t even notice you were reminiscing until you caught yourself stroking the sticker on the front of your notebook. Blinking a few times to clear your mind, you opened it up to the next free page only to see that someone really tried not to write in their typical chicken scratch.

Smidge,

If you are reading this, then I must be away doing some press related things. I wish I did not have to, but duty calls and I also think Toto would come to my house and drag me there himself (in a very nice way, of course). Anyway, I wanted to write you a short note and let you know that I will be back soon, and hopefully you will be coming home after that. I have rented a place out here for you and me that will be sufficient enough until you decide where you want to fully rest and recover. We can go back to your apartment in Italy or to one of my family’s cottages in Switzerland. I would even take you back to the states to find respite at my ranch in Texas, but I know you do not have fond memories of Texas. I want to do only what you are comfortable with, Schätzen.

As for my last few races, I am on the lookout for the best home care nurse I can find while I am away. Sebastian offered, but he has a family and children of his own. When you feel up to it, I would also like your opinion on how you would like your care to be handled when I am at a race. I want you to feel as safe and taken care of as possible. It kills me that I have to go away to participate in the last few races, but part of me is also excited to get back to driving alongside Lewis. We (Mostly I) will dedicate every race to you, Schätzen. Maybe if you are healed and well enough, you may be able to attend the last race of the season. That would be very fun, as I know some of the drivers are dying to see you again.

I cannot think of anything else to write that might ease your mind while I am gone for now. I cannot imagine how difficult it must be to not know anybody there, but I do hope that with Sebastian being there it has calmed some of your nerves. He admires you greatly, and you have always been fond of him. I feel exactly the same way. But you can always text message me or call me, if you need me. I know you are not quite comfortable with that form of communication yet, but I just want you to know that I will always respond and pick up when I see your name pop up on my phone.

Anyway, I am excited and full of anticipation for when I get to lay eyes on the most beautiful woman I have come to know again. Your strength and perseverance through this entire ideal has been something to write in the history books about. I cannot wait to hear your laugh and feel your fingers interlaced with mine. I am looking forward to our days spent on the couch, sharing a blanket, with you tucked underneath my side - where you fit so perfectly beside me as if it were meant to be. And until we see each other again, just know I am thinking of you always and missing you every second of the day.

You hold my heart in your hands.

Ich gehöre für immer dir.

(I am yours forever.)

Love,

Mickey

There were drops of water scattered across the page as you tried to stop yourself from crying again.

You may not know him, but he knows you. And the feeling was overwhelming.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian’s quiet voice came into notice as you looked up at him with tearful eyes. He tilted his head to the side in concern.

“He… Wrote me… He wrote me… This letter… He knew I would find it… He knew this… That I would want to write things down, after the day I had… And he knew I would find his letter…” You spoke in between sobs, your chest falling up and down at a rapid rate.

“Okay, okay. Let’s take a few deep breaths and then we can talk about it, ja?” Sebastian began to initiate some deep breathing, hoping you would follow suit.

After many seconds of doing some deep breathing, you closed your eyes and did your best to relax your body.

“He loves me, doesn’t he?”

Vettel paused, taking his seat beside you.

“Yes. He does.” The German driver answered solemnly.

“And I don’t love him? Isn’t that right?” You glanced around the dry hospital room, smears of bright white and the smell of rubbing alcohol apparent.

“I don’t want him to love me. I don’t deserve it.”

Sebastian Vettel, four time world formula one champion, and one of the most formidable motorsports athletes the world has ever known, was stunned. He remained tight lipped and stoic. In frustration, you threw the notebook onto the floor and put your head in your hands. You weren’t crying, no. But you were exasperated . You could hear beeping as each finger pressed a key in the background. You didn’t know what was what, except what was shown to you: The voice of somebody you used to know.

Sebastian had put the phone on speaker and handed it to you.

“Smidge? Are you okay?”

“Hello? Smidge?”

“Was machst du (What are you doing)?”

“Ich vermisse dich (I miss you).”

Mick’s voice was like the half of you that you didn’t know you needed. It melded perfectly with what you were missing in this dark despair of recent days. His slight German-Swiss accent brought you comfort like you didn’t know you needed. He had picked up the call no matter where he was or what he was doing.

“Komm zurück zu mir (Come back to me).” You could hear Mick let out a strained sigh. He wanted to come back, god did he want to.

“Mickey, please…”

Completely taking you off guard, the line went dead suddenly and you were left with another kind of beeping. You slowly handed the phone back to your almost friend, Sebastian. The former driver could only sigh and sit back in the chair that he had been making his home since Mick left.

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Four Days Later

Your leg was finally out of those ghastly rods and into a softer cast. To think this feeling was heavenly, was something you would have never put on your radar thus far. Soon enough though as the many doctors and nurses came by, you were cleared to go home in the next 24 hours.

“We are glad to see you improving Mrs. Schumacher.” You did your best to make eye contact with the receptionist. “Please let us know if you need anything.”

“Thank you…” You started with caution.

“I’m not Mrs. Schumacher though… If you want to change that for your records or anything…” You tried your best to be nonchalant. The receptionist typed a few bits onto the computer in front of her.

Ushering for you to take a seat in the lobby, you tried your best to not think about the past.

Due to a reason unbeknownst to you, Mick was unavailable to take you home when it came to your releases date. You even braved the scary phone long enough to ask Sebastian if he could be there to take you to the new home Mick set up for you. He wished that he could, but evidently he had something to attend to.

Bravery aside, you sat curbside alone trying to figure out who to call. Your leg was in its soft cast, as you remained waiting for something or someone to come rescue you. You didn’t know where you were, you didn’t know any phone numbers off of the top of your head, and if it could get any worse, you were in England where it was raining.

“You’re going to catch a cold if you stay outside like this.”

Great. Now you’re fucking hearing things. Trying to shake the eerie feeling you had resting on your shoulders, you ignored the voice.

“Let me take you home, huh?” The voice repeated to you.

Your head turned to the left towards the voice. They were leaning against some concrete beam, cigarette almost totally nsmoked as they stepped towards you.

“John?”

“Hello, baby sister.”

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You weren’t sure how you ended up at your brother’s flat in whatever country you were in at the moment. The legalization of Mick being your medical proxy was iron clad….

You never once considered an actual family member to be there for you. And as it were, your big brother had also aged some. You knew it was him immediately though. You could tell because he sort of looked like you, and his voice sounded like the only other voice besides Mick that you knew.

“Are we going back home?” Your brother was doing the dishes as you sat on the couch, your leg elevated to help relieve some swelling.

Again, you repeated the question. You could hear him turning the water off, and see him drying his hands as he turned to face you.

“No, we’re going to stay here for a little while.”

Confusion washed over you once more. Did Mick call your brother because he was unable to pick you up from the hospital? Did Mick even know you were here? All you could do was nod, while your brother excused himself to go lay down. It had been a long day of driving for him from where he came from. You remained in the quiet of your own company for a moment, trying to think of all the possibilities that could have ended up with you being in some strange apartment in a country you hardly knew. Finally, you pulled out your phone that Mick bought for you, and took a deep breath.

You: Hi Mick

…

Mick: Hello, Schätzen! It makes me very happy to see your text.

You: Really?

…

Mick: Yes, really. I would never lie to you.

You: That’s sweet.

…

…

Mick: I am so sorry I cannot be there to bring you home, but I will be there tonight and we can have dinner and watch a movie, if you would like. But, my very good friend Daniel is going to pick you up from the hospital, okay? He should be there shortly, if you just want to wait in the lobby where it is warm and dry.

You reread the message as your heart rate began to hasten. If Mick had already made arrangements for you to get picked up from the hospital… How did your brother find you?

You: Oh. I thought you called John, because he picked me up from the hospital already. A few hours ago, actually. I got released early and thought maybe you called him since you couldn’t get there in time.

Milliseconds after you pressed send on your text, your phone screen lit up brightly in your face.

INCOMING CALL: Mick Schumacher

swipe to accept

Your thumb danced over the bottom of the screen, only to have your desire to hear his voice once again take over your body. Slowly, you accepted the call.

“Schätzen, where are you?” You could hear the panic in his voice. How the fuck were you supposed to know where you were?

“Um… I’m in John’s apartment, I think.” You spoke in a whisper as to not to disturb your resting brother.

“Scheiße, Scheiße, Scheiße (Shit, shit, shit)!”

On the other side of the phone you could hear him getting up and gather his belongings wherever he was. You could pick up bits and pieces of what he was telling someone near him, but not enough to put together a full sentence. You patiently waited on your side of the line for him to speak again. What seemed like forever went by, before he talked to you.

“Can you describe where you are? Can you look outside and see any street names, or building names?” You could tell he was jogging by now.

“I’d have to get up… And my crutches are… On the other side of the room…”

Mick felt absolutely stupid for forgetting that you had a cast on your leg. And he felt even more stupid that he allowed your safety to be compromised… Again. In his defense though, he gave strict instructions to the hospital staff not to allow anyone to take you home besides himself, Sebastian, and Daniel. He even started calling you his Mrs. Schumacher for extra protection, but he’d never tell you that secret.

He was trying as quickly as he could to figure out what the hell went wrong, and how the hell your brother found you. Mick told you he’d have to call you back, but that he promised he would call back in five minutes.

As you waited for him to call back, you decided to try and hobble over to the window. It was gloomy, of course, but you could still see a few things.

House Street

Franklin Street

You decided to text Mick the names of the cross streets, just in case. Glancing around some more through the window, you saw to the far right what looked like a school or a church. You squinted to try and get the name of it.

Longfellow Grade School: Home of The Lions

You also added that to your next text message to Mick, as well as the few models of cars that were sat out on the street. Exhausted now, you hobbled your way back over to the couch and let out all the air you had pent up in your lungs.

INCOMING CALL: Mick Schumacher

swipe to accept

Faster than you did the last time, you accepted the call and raised the phone to your ear.

“Hi Mick, are you okay?”

“The police are on their way, Schätzen. Do not be scared when they arrive, ja? I will be there as fast as I can too. Stay on the line.”

You had a lot of conflicting feelings at this point. Why were the police involved now? Why did Mick sound so afraid? You couldn’t remember the last few years, but now you’re having to deal with all of this? It was as though your body was frozen with a mixture of fear and sadness. You could barely move from your spot on the couch while you anticipated the police’s arrival.

“Okay, Mick. What is going on, though?”

“I will explain everything once I bring you back home, to our home.”

Soon enough, there was a loud knock on the door. You could hear your brother curse loudly from his room as you shrank into the corner of the couch. You were very afraid. Your brother stumbled out of his room, rubbing his eyes as he opened the door to his apartment. One police officer held up a piece of paper to his face, while the other one peered into the space making sure you were alright. The male officer began to speak to your brother about whatever was on the paper, while the female officer approached you with caution.

“Hi, there. My name is Officer Clarkson. Are you alright?” Her voice was calming, and probably the most calming thing about this entire situation. She sat on the couch, keeping a good distance between you.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know where I am.”

Mick had told the dispatchers that you were in a potentially dangerous situation, and that you had been in a bad car crash a month before resulting in some memory loss. He also told them that you in fact had a restraining order out against your brother, and that he had no clue how he got past the hospital staff.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to know anything right now. I’m just going to sit here with you, while my partner takes care of that young man. Is that alright?” Again, the peaceful cadence of her voice warmed you, and made you feel instantly safe.

“Yes.”

Your head quickly whipped to the side when your brother began yelling at the officer. He was pinned up against the wall, face to it, with his hands behind his back. The male officer handcuffed your brother and escorted him out to the police vehicle. It all happened so fast that you weren’t sure what to make of it. Officer Clarkson said some police speak into her walkie talkie that was on her chest, echoing some of the things being said back to her. She got up from the couch and looked around.

“Can you remember the last time you saw your brother?” You only shook your head in response. Your eyes followed the trail she was walking around the tiny apartment.


After a few more questions that you honestly did not know the answers to, you could hear the radio on her chest go off. The officer grabbed your crutches, and the bag you had at the hospital and escorted you downstairs. There was another police car, an SUV. Two more officers approached you, both women.

“This is Officer Hammond and Officer May. They’re going to drive you home, your real home.”

You thought you might combust trying to keep everyone’s names straight. But you still didn’t have any answers as to why your brother was sitting in the back of a cop car. And as you did so dutifully in the hospital, you did again as you just stood in silence allowing things to be explained to you.

“Your friend Mick - the one who called the us - Will meet you there. Your brother won’t bother you ever again, ma’am.” Officer Clarkson gave a promising smile and nod as she handed your bag to one of the other female officers.


Soon, you were in the backseat of the car as the three of you silently drove to wherever this new place was.

Two hours later, you were woken by Officer May trying coax you out of your sleep. You felt embarrassed for falling asleep, but it seemed like your body needed it. Rubbing your eyes, you looked over the officer’s shoulder to see you were parked in front of a modest one story home. You were in the countryside somewhere, and knowing Mick and his love for the countryside, you could tell that he put a lot of thought into this home. Even if it was going to be temporary, you enjoyed the thought of recovering somewhere private and secluded.

Officer May helped you out of the car and handed you your crutches. The sound of another car hastily pulling up made all three of your head’s turn sharply to the right. In true Mick fashion, he sported a big red truck as he parked in haphazardly. He couldn’t move fast enough though, as he jumped out of the car not even closing the door behind him. Mick ran up to you, his hands frantically searching your face for any wounds. He was rambling in German… Italian… Maybe even French as he brought you into a much needed embrace. He kissed the top of your head and looked at you with nothing but regret.

“Smidge, I am so sorry. I really do not know how this could have happened, but you are safe now. Okay? Completely safe from everything.” Mick profusely thanked the officers, and made a note to call and thank the other officers as well.

Mick helped you inside, before returning to the officers so that he could speak to them about the situation. They assured him that they would look into just how your brother was able to pick you up and take you out of the hospital. He wanted nothing more than answers at this point. (Join the club, right?)

You were still on edge when you heard the door open, your flinching making it clear. Mick walked towards you as cautiously as he could.

“It is just me, Smidge; Just Mick.” He stepped in front of you, his face softened by the sight of you. “I am sorry I scared you.”

“It’s just been a long day…” Mick led you carefully to the couch so that you could sit and rest your leg. Propping your leg up on some pillows, Mick moved to the kitchen to get you some water and some food.

The house was nicely decorated with accents of a familiar shade of red all around. The couch beneath you felt like a marshmallow compared to last couch you were sat on, and the hospital bed you had quite become accustomed to for the last month. Mick returned with a water bottle and a few snacks he might think you would want. Sitting beside you, but keeping a respectful space between you, the blond haired boy rubbed a very tired hand over his face. Leaning his head back onto the back of the couch and stretching out his arms too, he sighed a sigh of relief and closed his eyes. You watched him carefully, and more meticulously than you had in the hospital.

You liked the way his nose was slightly bigger than normal and the way that it curved downwards at the end. You noticed how his darkened blond hair curled ever so slightly at the tips. His lips were a pretty shade of pink too. You wondered if you ever had the pleasure of kissing them. His neck was bigger than you last could remember it to be. Mick’s Adam’s Apple moving up and down as he swallowed, sucking the insides of left side of his mouth. Mick always did that when he was overworked.

“Sind Sie gestresst (Are you stressed)?” Mick just hummed in response, your body relaxing at the familiar sound.

You remember how you reacted when the doctor hummed. Shuddering away that terrible thought, you scooted closer to him.

“Mir wird es gut gehen (I will be okay).” His eyes were still closed as he responded.

You took a beat and took a nice long deep breath. You remember what he had written in his letter. He probably had to leave his work to come find you. And the fact that he did made you feel something you hadn’t felt before - or at least couldn’t remember feeling. This man has always cared for you. Since you were children, he has always put you first and always made sure you were taken care of in every sense of the word. He was the only thing that connected you to your past and all of your lost memories. And surely he knew the weight of it all, yet he didn’t seem to be overwhelmed by it. He would carry the weight of the world on his shoulders if that meant he got to see you happy.

Something in the back of your head was telling you to reject these new feelings, though. You couldn’t tell what it was that was making you want to hide your emotions. The pull was strong. It was like The Force, pulling you into a dark deep alley where you were always meant to be: Alone.

You did your best to shake the distressing thought. Going back to happier things, you recited the letter in your head as you decided to be brave. After all, you didn’t survive a high speed car crash for nothing, right?

Nodding assertively to yourself, you managed to wiggle into Mick’s side. Your leg was still propped up, just now onto the coffee table in front of you. As best as you could and as comfortably too, you tucked yourself into him and his arm wrapped around you as if it were a dance you two had done a million times before. Your eyelids began to feel heavier and heavier as you felt the warmth of his body warm yours. It was not secret that the both of you were dog-tired as neither of you said a word.

The only thing surrounding you now was the sound of rain hitting the roof and someone’s arm wrapped tightly around you. And while you may not have any memories of the last few years, now was as good as time as ever to begin making new ones.

[lovearne]

treatment for a king

Konig x gn reader

Words: 4.4k

My page is 18+ only. I don't tolerate minors here. This is my safe place to express myself, and I don't consent to minors viewing my works or my blog.

Warnings: Konig is a brat, Dom! Reader, bandage, praise kink, oral m!reciveing, anal fingering, anal sex, vibrator, dildo, edging, Konig speaks German sometimes, fluff to smut to fluff, if I missed any please lemme know

Summary: Konig doesnt know how to ask to be your sub in bed, so he does what any other shy boyfriend would, try to annoy the fuck out of you until you snapped. In other words Konig trying to brat.

Happy anti valentines day

Support your fanfic writers by rebloging when you enjoy fic, a reblog and a comment always make my day

Konig loved to sit and watch you. He thought about you all the time, sometimes his thoughts were very impure, but most of the time, he was admiring you. Watching you was basically his favourite activity. It's actually how you two officially met. You noticed him staring, first you started to tease him, after a few weeks of non stop teasing, you went and talked to him.

Konig thought of those moments you'd tease him in public before the two of you even met. The vivid and short movements exaggerated to get a reaction from him. And the reaction was violent. He wanted to be with you. He wanted to be your boyfriend. 

Today, Konig had plans to annoy you into tying him up. Be didn't know how to ask, and he felt awkward when he did last time. So he decided to get on your nerves until you decided to take care of him. 

"Hey big guy." You greet, leaning down to kiss his cheek. He stays silent, moving his head away from your advances. You frown.

"Is there something wrong love?" You ask. Gently holding the arm that was infront of you. He stays silent again. You were getting really worried. You move to kneel in front of him. 

His composure shakes a bit from the peripheral view of you crouched infront of him, but he keeps his eyes off of you. You gently place your hands on his thighs, rubbing them soothingly. 

"Baby," His eyes finally look at you, instead of your eyes, he's looking at your hands. Imagining them bringing him to completion, his stomach tightens with desire. An idea comes to his mind. You don't know German. He could talk as dirty as he wanted to you.

"Ich möchte, dass du mir einen Kopf gibst." Your hands stopped, confused. Konig meets your eyes. "Ich will, dass du mich ruiniert." Your eyebrows drew together.

"Sweetheart," your hands start moving again. "I can't help you if I don't understand what you're saying." You remind him. "I want to help you." You watch as his scarred lip moves a little. His eyes were vibrant, they were intense, soul searching. They unnerved you a little, but you knew he'd never do anything to make you uncomfortable or to hurt you.

"Ich liebe dich." He mutters, his voice shaking a bit. You smile warmly.

"I love you too pretty boy." His face perks up. His mouth pulling at the scars, smiling genuinely at you. 

"Du-" 

"I learned it." His smile gets wide as he grabs your waist, pulling you into his lap. He can't contain the love he shows for you. His attitude doing a 180. His lips smash against yours, stealing the words from your mouth as you grab at his thick hair, one hand on his shoulder. When he pulled away, his voice was raw.

"Oh, I'm so in love with you." He claimed. "I couldn't have asked for a better partner!" He placed kisses all over your face. "Ich möchte dir einen blasen, bis du nur noch keuchen und stöhnen kannst." His voice was low against your ear. You furrow your brows again.

"I still don't know what that means." You say as you pull back fully to look at him. He just smirks and kisses the tip of your nose. 

"You don't need to speak my language." He whispers. "It's hot, but you don't need to bär." You smile, the nicknames he gave you held a space in your heart. 

"Ich libe dich könig." You said slowly trying to get the pronunciation right. His face went slack and his eyes focused on you. You've seen that face before, when you tied him up and edged him for hours. The look on his face after the session was over is very similar to the one he wears now. He was in awe of you. He loved you so much, and you speaking his native tounge made his heart beat fast. 

"If you-" you cut him off with a sweet kiss. He melted into it right away, his tougne fervently trying to gain access to yours, yet your teeth never parted, your lips easily giving into his exploring tounge. He groans into the kiss, gripping the back of your neck, and pulling lightly, he detaches his lips from yours. "I'm so in love with you." He said honestly. You nod.

"I know Engel." You replied as you got up and walked to the kitchen. Konig threw his head back, groaning as the words went straight to his dick. He needed to up his game.

"Hey babe!" You cheer as Konig walks into the kitchen, he huffs. You frown. "Why are you mad baby?" You ask nicely. He huffs again. You sigh. "Baby," you grab his chest, trying to pull him to your level. "Tell me." Your voice left no room for argument. 

"Nothing." He stuttered. You nod.

"When you're ready to talk to me. I'll be reading in the living room." You let go of the tall man,  walking away. 

Konig watches your backside as you walk away. His cock aching in his sweatpants. He needs to wind you up. 

Konig turns the lamp off beside you. You scoff, mildly annoyed by this behaviour. He then takes the remote put of your hand when you try and turn on the TV. You raise an eyebrow at his quick movement. 

"Konig." You warn lowly. He looks into your eyes. "Don't play with me." He smiles. There it is, he's on the right path.

You settle back in to read your book, when a loud tapping starts up. You look over your book and see Konig playing with two books, drumming them on the coffee table. You look back to your book, knowing that he stimmed, like you did sometimes. 

Once he starts fidgeting in his seat, you put the book back down, laying so your legs had space for him. 

"Hey, boyfriend, wanna come cuddle me?" He ignores you, normally he answers you. You thought it weird that he just ignored you. You sigh again. Konig could sure be quite the beat sometimes. Your mind paused. Did he want you to Dom him? The behavior he's presenting is very brattish, this is how he gets after not being taken care of the way he desperately wants to be. You smirk behind your book. A plan forming in your head.

You place your book down. "I think I'm gonna go for a nap. You gonna be a good boy?" You slip one of his spicy nicknames in passing. You see the glaze in his eyes, he definitely heard it. You watch as he nods. You smile. "Good boy." You walk upstairs, surprised not to hear him running up after you. You were a El to close the door without him even moving a muscle. You didn't lay down, you gathered the items you'd be needing to take care of your boy. Within five minutes you were all set up, now it's up to your boyfriend seeking you out. 

He didn't come in until nearly an hour later, you heard his strides and steps, smiling at how purposeful they sound.

"Liebeling I-" His voice fell short. He stared at all the objects you set out. His face gaining a hefty amount of colour as he blushed. His eyes big and excited.

"We don't have to, I thought you may be acting off today because we haven't done this in a while. And I know you wouldn't ask." He's still standing there slack jawed. The amount of shock running through his system making him unable to move.

"How-" He cut himself off.

"You were being a brat, you don't brat very often." He nods. "Now, tell me. Do you want this? Yes or no? I'm not going to be upset either way." He nods, eagerly. "No baby, I need words." 

"Yes, yes, please!" He said, you smile.

"OK baby, I want you down to your boxers and on the bed, yeah?" He nods. You raise your eyebrow.

"Yes liebe." You smile.

"Good boy." He smiles back at you. You watch as he takes off his clothes, leaning against the wall of your room. He quickly shucks off hist shirt, throwing it to the other side of the room. His pants are next, they get tossed in the other direction, little pebbles falling out that he must've collected during a walk. You giggle at the face he makes. His back slouches.

"I'm sorry liebe, I forgot they were in there." You smile. 

"Baby," your hand reaches to his face. "You know I love you and your rocks." The two of you laugh together, faces just inches apart. Konigs eyes dart from yours to your lips. You smile even bigger. "You wanna kiss me baby?" His lips meet yours before he could hear anymore of your teasing. Whining into the kiss as you denied his tongue access, you smile even more into the kiss. Just as he was pulling away, you grab the nape of his neck and open your mouth to his. Your tongues met in a dance of passion, embracing each other as you both moaned at the contact. When it became too much for your lungs to handle, you pulled apart. Both of you panting, you nodded toward the bed. 

"Wanna take this to our office baby?" You joked. He laughed, picking you up and manhandled you to the bed. He laid you down, him getting on top of you. "You know, if you wanted to Dom, you just had to say 'so pretty boy." 

"No, I want you to." He says, words rushed, you giggle. "Just wanted to throw you around a little, it looks like you have fun when I do that." You lean up and kiss him. Sweetly caressing his lips with your own.

"I love it big guy." You hand was supporting his head as he leaned his full body weight on you. "Oh, looks like I got a weighted blanket, takin all my troubles away." He giggles. "I love you babe." You kiss his cheek. He hums.

"Love you too bär." You smile. "I wanna love you for the rest of my life." He whispered to you. 

"Then do it big guy, love me for the rest of our lives." He giggles again. 

You use the distraction to flip him on his back, you didn't know, but he helped you. He'd not ever tell you that.

"OK, baby. Are you ready?" He nods  cutley. "Imma need your words. You wanna be a good boy, yeah?" 

"Yes, please, wanted this all day." He answered. "I want you to take care of me." You smile.

"Oh, such a good boy. Using his words." You praise him, his body melting inti the bed. You take this oprtunity to attach the rope tied to bed frame to his wrist. Your hand softly wrapping the smooth rope around his wrist. His eyes were awestruck as he watched you. 

"Always so good to me." He whispers, you smile again.

"Can't be hurting my baby, now can I?" You lean down and place a kiss where you were going to tie the knot. "He's too precious to be hurt." Konigs hand twitched at the contact and the comment. You wrap the rope, double wide on his wrists to ensure it doesn't tug too much, tying the knots where he'd be able to get out of them in an emergency. Placing a kiss on the insides of his palms, you move to attach the thin material on his neck. A pretty little collar, just for him. He shivers when the material slides on the skin if his neck. 

"Doing so good for me baby, so patient. What a good boy." sensitive skin. Every touch of yours sending chills up his spine. Exciting him even more.

As you latched the collar in place, you left kisses on the base of his neck, moving up closer to his jaw, his neck is so damn long and soft. It bruises just perfectly when you leave love bites on it. You sucked softly on his sweet spot, his hips canting up, already done with your teasing. 

“Plea- please bär. Please.” Konig begs, his hips moving, trying to find friction as you tease him. “N- need you.” His voice was soft and whiney, small moans coming out of his mouth. You smirk against his skin, skimming your hand down from where it held the base of his neck. It grazes across his upper chest, catching on his sensitive, and pierced nipples. Tracing the beautiful scars under his pecks, knowing that he loved the feeling of your nails on his chest. Your hand stopped, cupping the underside of his peck, scar in grasp as you thumb at his nipple.

“Ahh, please!” Konig pulls at his restraints, body jolting at the sensations of your wet kisses making marks all over his neck, and your thumb playing with his nipple. Your other hand keeps running down his abdomen, dusting across his hairy stomach, following the thickest smattering down and into his boxers. 

His cock was hard agaisnt your palm, you smirk even more, feeling the wetness of his desperation, making it easier to stroke his cock. His natural lubrication was allowing you to pull your hand on his cock without chaffing it. 

“bär! Oh ahhh, bär bitte, bitte bär!” His voice gives way as his whines surface. Each one making your stomach twist and your mind soar. The confidence you gained from doming your boyfriend was making you power drunk. 

“Thats it, what a pretty boy you are. So pretty whining just from my hand.” You squeeze your hand to accentuate your point. “What a good boy.” Konig throws his head back, the moans dripping from his mouth like saliva. “Always such a good boy for me.” You were watching his face as you start to stroke his cock faster. Konigs pants getting harsher, his moans more breathy, you loved watching him come apart for you. 

After confirming Konig was enjoying himself, you start kissing down his chest. Stopping right above his nipple. “Is this ok baby?” you ask. Konig doesnt answer, his hips bucking into your hand even more. “Konig,” you try and grab his attention, stopping your hand on his cock. His eyes imediatly darting to yours, surprised to find you close to his nipple. “Baby, is this ok? I need a yes.” He nods, eagerly thrusting his hips into your hand. “Baby. a yes or a no?”

“Ja, bitte ja ja ja.” You smile, your hand allowing him some reprieve and mouth attaching to his nipple. His moan in response was felt through your whole body and his, if he were more aware and with someone he trusted less he’d be embarrassed by it.

Your tongue swirls around the pierced bud, gently flicking it with the tip of your tongue, you smile as his breath hitches within a whine. Your cheeks pull, he can feel your smile against his skin. You suck on his nipple lightly, loving the nosies coming out of his mouth. You switched to his other nipple, not wanting to leave it out, treating it the same as the first one. You feel konig shudder, knowing he was getting close, you speed your hand up on his cock. Squeazing it harder as you jerk him faster. His stomach flexing as he gets closer. You pull away from his nipple. 

“Gonna cum baby? Gonna cum for me?” He nods.

“Bar-” a broken moan falls from his mouth, cutting himself off. “Bitte, please, bitt-” He cuts himself off again, a low groan bubbling out of his chest. You nod.

“Cum for me baby,” You say. Konig moans your name, unbeiliving you werent going to draw his orgasm further from him. You stop your hand and take it out of his boxers. His responding whine music to your ears.

“No no, bär, no, bitte let me cum please.” He pleas, you shake your head. 

“Not yet baby, you know edging makes it feel better for you.” His face was sad, his arms tugging his restraints.  Konig loved when you would edge him, he loved you being in charge, in control of his release. It didnt happen often, only when Konig needed more attention, and when you wanted to be able to take his anxiousness away while making him feel good. “You’re being so good baby. Such a good boy for me, begging so sweet.” his face flushes more as you compliment him. He pushes his cheek against his bicep. You smile at his shyness.

“Sto- stop.” he mumbles. Konig, a monster on the field, a giant of a man whom everyone was afraid of was blushing under your compliments. Youd never tell him, but you loved that he was so deep. You loved the depth of your lover, he had so many layers, and you’d like to think you met all of them. 

“Ok baby,” you agree. “Lets get you out of these boxers, yeah?” He nods eagerly. Trying to sit up to watch your face as you pull his underwear down. You slowly dragged his boxers down his legs, exposing his aching cock to the cold air in your room. He moans as you brush your thumb over his swollen cock head. “Oh, good boy.” you moan as you start to pump his cock again. Your fingers felt like breath of fresh air when he was suffocating, bringing him to life as he sinks into the feeling. 

"Ahh, nhg bär ahh" He moans, his cock was throbbing, you could feel it in your hand. You grabbed the lube with your other hand, opening it and adding some onto his hole. You smile up at him as he winced. "Das ist kalt." 

"I know baby, I'm sorry. You're being such a good boy for me. Which toy do you want today?" You smiled softly as you asked. He didn't answer, the feeling of your fingers massaging his rim tipping his brain back to mush. "Baby?" 

"Ahh Bär, du bist so schön. So schöner Bär." He whimpered out, his eyes rolling back I'm his head as he appreciated your touch on him. "Bär, bitte bitte bumse mich." He whined. You furrowed your brows. Two fingers now in his hole, pumping deep and curling your fingers as you go. He cries out as your fingers touch his sweet spot. You smile.

"Baby, say that again in English?" You ask him, cooking your fingers in him as he whines.

"Please bär, please." He begs. His hips stuck between wanting to grind I to your hand or thrust back into the other. 

"Please what baby." 

"Your mouth," His whine was broken this time. You felt for the poor guy. You portioned to make yourself more comfortable, moving you head towards his cock. You decided to tease him, kitten licking the tip, and watching as it jumped. You giggle to yourself as he tries to wriggle out of his bonds. 

"Someone's eager." You say, he nods hi head up and down. "OK baby, I'm gonna suck you off, when you are ready, you can cum, ok?" He nods.  You smile.

You turned your head back to his cock, licking the length of it and taking him in your mouth. You met out a moan at the taste of him, sweaty and slick with his precum. He shutters at the vibrations rocking his cock, your fingers digging even deeper as he moves against your mouth. 

"Ahhhh ah bär ahhh so good bär." He whines as you take him as deep as you could, your free hand putting a vibrator at the base of his cock, moving it around the circumference of it. He jerks, his moans louder than they had been before that night. "Ahh b- b- ahhhh." He groans, his high just a spitting distance away. "Bär, ich werde kommen." He panted. You smiled around his cock, working your tongue all around it, creating the perfect suction for his continued stimulation. Your hand holding the vibe to the sweet spot you found, the other 3 fingers deep in his ass, constantly hitting his sweet spot at a punishing pace. His stomach just started to jerk, letting you know he was about to cum, you pulled your mouth off of him, dropping the vibratory on the bed, and removing your fingers out of his hole. He cried in agony as you left him hanging yet again. There were tears of frustration running down his cheeks as his big blue eyes gazed at you in surprise. Your thoughts sobered.

"What's your colour baby?" The colour system, a classic for people into hard kinks, even soft ones really. The two of you used it when you felt you pushed the other too far.

"Gelb." His voice was weak and shakes, his tears subsiding as you caressed his face. Your thumbs rubbing right under his eyes. 

"Too far baby?" You ask, reaching for his restraints to pull them off. He shakes his head frantically. Letting you know he didn't want that. "OK big guy, what do you need to happen?" 

"Cum, please. I'm too sensitive." He replied. You nod, kissing the tip of his nose.

"OK baby, I'm gonna let you cum. Do you want a toy up your ass or my fingers?" You ask. He shakes as he thinks.

"Toy, I want to kiss you." You smile, looking at him with love in your eyes.

"OK baby, want me to play with your cock too?" He nods.

"Ues please Bär." You smile, sitting so your body fave his. Your face close to his as you slid the prelubed toy into his entrance. He gasps, and moans as you push it in all the way, feeling nice and full. You pause to kiss him heartily, pouring all the emotions you felt for him into this kiss. He grunts, letting you know he's not long until he'll be coming. You move the toy, fucking him with it, starting slowly at first, and then gaining speed. Your other hand holding a vibrator against his cock, both hands busy bringing the man you loved pleasure. He could hardly take it, his moans became whines and whimpers, his begs being jumbled into mumbled praises of your name, he kept moving his hips, trying to get every ounce of friction from you that he could. Your mouth mcmoved from his, toward his chin, biting softly. You trailed your teeth down his neck, leaving teeth indents every so often by biting down a little too hard. He felt like he was an ancient God, being pampered by his people, fed grapes and fanned, bathed and pampered. You made him feel like royalty, like everything bad in the world never existed. You made him whole. 

When you hit his sweet spot you bit down hard than you had before, not enough to break the skin, but enough that he was going to bruise. He started making high pitched noise and low whines, getting closer to his peak, then you started suck on his sweet spot. He came. He came so hard his cum shot out everywhere, you smiled at your boyfriend. Holding him to calm him down, waiting until he was less sensitive to pull the toy out. You cuddled his head against your chest, as you untied his wrists, knowing he'd want a nap more than anything. Before you moved him too much farther, you grabbed the water from beside you, you'd been giving him sips between edges. You held the half empty bottle in front of him. 

"C'mon pretty boy, will you please drink some for me?" You ask him nicely, trying to coax him into having some fluids after a scene that was particularly taxing on him. He shook his head, not wanting to do anything. "Come on baby, just open your mouth for me, there you go. Good boy Konig." You praise him. "Now swallow." Konjg does as you ask. You smile. "Now please drink the rest of this, I promise I'm going to bring you tea baby, just gonna have to drink your water first." Konig agreed, reluctantly.

You smiled at him. God he'd do anything to see that smile. He'd fight the biggest armies just to see one second worth of tha smile. He's so in love with you. You pat his chest, leaving a kiss on his sternum, his forehead, each of his cheeks, his palms and then finally his mouth. 

"I'm going to run a bath, ok? I'll come right back to get you baby." He nods again. Sitting back in bed watching as you scurry into the ensuit. He was beyond satisfied at your abilities to take care of him. Some care way to much, others too little. You loved bringing him pleasure, and only stayed within his boundaries and respected when he needed to stop of slow down. You loved him. He knew that. By the time you'd come back into the room, 5 minutes had passed. You had Konig step around you as much as possible. 

You helped him stand, helping him walk to the ensuit, and get in the ni e and warm bathtub, soothing his aching body. You sit beside the bathtub, watching him, holding his hand.

"Bär, you should come in." You shake your head.

"No baby, I gotta grab you something from the kitchen first, is that ok?" He nods his head quickly. You kiss his nose and then head down to the kitchen, opening the chest freezer and grabbing out Konigs favourite ice cream snack. You also grab a gartorade from the fridge, heading back up the stairs. 

Konig leaned against the cool tile of the bathtub, his body calm. When he heard you walk back into the room, he opened his eyes, watching you. 

Giving him the ice cream, his eyes widen. "Danke Bär, danke!" He bit into his ice cream, satisfied with the cold treat, his eyes watching you as you pulled your clothes off, he gestured for you to sit infront of him, shaking your head you tap his shoulder. He takes the hint. 

As you step in behind him, you slide on the cool tile and into the warm water, pulling Konig to lean against your form. He cuddles back into you, squeezing your body deliciously, the way you loved to be. You wash his body with the cloth, being careful around his genital area and where you marked him. You wash his hair, also being careful not to get it in his eyes. 

The two of you sat in the bath until it was good and cold, keeping each other warm. 

You loved him, and he loved you. That's all there was to it.

[bucketspammer4life]

☆ how the boxers were as children ☆

Hey besties, sorry for dissapearing i was busy decaying, enjoy my cringe ass writing

Glass Joe

- Really sleepy & an edgelord, he was the kid that had hair covering the side of his face in middle school

- his parents always said that he wouldnt really be able to take up boxing due to him being a natural coward, jokes on them Joe isnt scared to get hurt (physically)

- loved reading old writing, especially gothic literature, he has a soft spot for dark writing

- wrote cringy edgy poems about every crush he had, his parents sometimes pull them out to torment him

- tried to start his own band, failed miserably

- still attached to his edgelord phase very much

- if he was a teen during the 2000-2010's he def would have a edgy wolf oc and a Deviantart account

Von Kaiser

- sickly victorian child + little german boy hybrid

- his parents always spoke with permission so he also started copying them, leading to him always interrupting people by saying "can i ask something?"

- had that one little german boy outfit, along with the huge ass lollipop and dumb hat, anytime someone pulls out his childhood pictures he prays they dont whip out those photos or he will get bullied recklessly

- NEVER EVER cursed until the wonderful age of 15 when he yelled out the word "fuck" after dropping a wrench on his foot, his dad wasnt even upset he was more concerned because holy fuck his child dropped a wrench on their foot

- got sick really often, he was out here being asked to be taken out into the garden one last time before you all posers

Disco Kid

- that one kid who had a really cool dad that let him do anything as long as he didnt blow up the house

- Really creative, writing up stories with pictures, his grammar wasnt really the best (along with his writing) so his parents had to read "the addventours off the brince" and hold in their laugh

- He was the kid who performed an entire ass dance choreography to get your parents to accept the sleepover invite

- got introduced to Disco music by his dad, got obsessed with it instantly and started dancing everywhere

King Hippo

- ate glue

- never spoke with anyone, Just beat up anyone picking on him and no one messed with him ever since

- people just gave him paper to eat, fresh with colored pencils

- liked to play make believe with his plushies

Piston Hondo

- He let you copy off his homework, i think that tells you enough

- everyone only recognized him for being a smart ass, not being creative and that really upset him

- played chess a whole lot, joined tournaments and won some medals

- academic burnout hit him like a train

- for a while, art and writing was his only escape from stress & pressure, he journaled about his feelings and drew his soul out, due to this he struggled to express his feelings without words

Bear Hugger

- chased everyone around with a spider then ate it, he was so evil for what

- never actually went to school, his parents lived out in the woods and homeschooled him since no one likes walking 2-3 hours straight just to suffer in a seat

- He always had a interest in animals, him and mrs bear go are childhood friends, mrs bear met him when she was a cub, due to this he got spared by mrs bears mom and suddenly had a 2nd mom, once his family realized that their son got adopted by a bear, they kindly let the bears in and treated it like it was normal

- loved fishing with mrs bear, he taught her how to use a rod and she taught him how to catch fish with his bare hands

Great Tiger

- so called "self sufficient" When he was just used to being alone and kinda accepted the fact he'll never have proper friends

- created the most batshit insane scenarios with his clones that would make the average hollywood movie maker shed tears, these gems include: divorce, murder, crime, assault and tea parties

- talked to himself a whole lot to the point where his parents took him to a therapist

- never really made friends, Just made himself his own friend

Don Flamenco

- oh no.

- his dad basically hated him, insulted him a whole lot, made fun of him, literally just made him insecure, when he got the opportunity to escape his dad by boxing, he took it without hesitation and got out of there

- was never really home, he was always out with friends to avoid his dad back at the house

- emotional stability? Who needs that when you can ignore your problems?

- people pleaser no matter what he says

Aran Ryan

- greasy ass bitch

- his parents didnt teach him shit, you think tigers parents didnt care about him? They'll look like helicopter parents next to them when they see what aran has going on

- had bad hygiene, only learned to shower and take care of himself in the 5th grade, thanks to that and his name, my boy got bullied and developed his behavior to defend himself from people

- Always ran from school & home, he had a hide out from away from home and a bit close to school to escape whenever he had the chance, he always dissapeared for a few weeks (sometimes months) and nobody really went looking for him, either from knowing he'll return sometime or they just dont care enough

Soda Popinski

- lonely, him and tiger are the difference between feeling lonely vs being alone, he doesnt handle loneliness well

- grew up with his grandpa & his stories, always loved listening to them and copied him whenever he wanted to tell a story

- never had a proper social life due to having to take care of his grandpa + him getting concerned about soda whenever he was out for too long

- spent most of his time crying from loneliness, away from him

Bald Bull

- precious!!! Was really shy and had a rounder face that everyone in his family pinched like crazy

- extremely sensitive & emotional (he still is hes just bottling it up shh)

- stuttered a lot, think about that one "have you ever had a dream you could you can't you would you you could be anything" kid

- was really short and just shot up one day

- scaredy cat, could be scared from anything, including: bugs, darkness, thunder, needles, sharp stuff, blood, death and alcohol (he also still gets scared easily but shh shut up)

- Always snored in his sleep, inherited it from his dad

Super Macho Man

- obsessed with sharks, dinosaurs, trucks and cars, basically got obsessed with anything he found cool

- his parents spoiled the living fuck out of him, no dime left unspent on him, no quarter spared

- Always lied about having something at the playground, sure Macho i trust the fact that you have "every dinosaurs teeth" 100% never doubted you for a second

- his parents love language was money so it got passed down to him, they were just throwing money at him and fucking off

Mr Sandman

- oldest child in his family, has 4 siblings and loves them all very much, had to help his mom & dad take care of them since they were a handful

- started boxing early so he was never in school that often unless it was 99% neccessary

- slept a lot thanks to him being tired constantly from rushing around

- knows how to do hair & make up from his younger sister

[rainythefox]

After Midnight

Sequel to Nightfall - AO3 Link

Summary: Three months after her near-death entanglement with Albert Wesker, Claire Redfield remains fettered to him as both lover and prisoner. As such, he once again pulls her into his dark games of power and control. Adamant at having her all to himself, Wesker's hold on her tightens as he pulls them both towards an unsatiable holy grail. But this is to be just the beginning of what would become an absolute nightmare...

Claire/Wesker, Chris/Jill, slight Claire/Leon and Ada/Leon. (also big focus on Wesker and William's friendship and past). Pre-RE1- Code Veronica time frame.

Chapter 1: Behind Blue Eyes

November 4th, 1971…

“The world needed your mother. She was essential. To modern science. To the future. Not you. You are disposable. An expedient…no, an anathema upon this world.”

His father’s last words to him repeated in his head, again and again. 

Then he was left behind at this strange facility with all the white coats.

That was after spending his birthday two days ago flying across the Atlantic Ocean to the United States.

Chicago, he recalled. That’s where he was. A research facility in Chicago. His father had spoken with the man in charge here…something about compensation for his “participation”. Anything to get that funding he always talked about for his research…

The doctors here poked and prodded him. Drew a lot of blood. Ran numerous tests. Nothing he wasn’t used to.

The young boy sat on an examination table in a small white-walled room for what felt like hours, the lights irradiant, just like the rooms he had often found himself in back home. The brightness hurt his eyes. He winced and squeezed his blue eyes shut. If he didn’t, he felt he would go blind.

He didn’t bother checking the door. He knew it would be locked. Everything in his life was controlled. When he could eat, when he could sleep, when he could leave. Isolated. All alone. Although that wasn’t anything new. He had always felt this way. His father abandoned him years ago, even if he had seen him every day of his life up until now.

Anathema…anathema, he thought over and over. He knew the word. A curse. Abomination. Something consigned for sacrificial offering and destruction.

The door opened. Instead of the usual apathy that accompanied him, always knowing it to be his father, a fleeting anxiety passed through him as two strangers entered.

One was the man in charge here his father had spoken to for “compensation”. He was quite important, a lord he’d overheard, but the boy knew nothing of who he was. The other man was a doctor and seemed to be friends with the lord. They both looked to be in their late 40s, although it was just a guess.

The lord wore a proud, triumphant smile, looking the boy over as though he was a prize of sorts.

“Hello, Albert,” he greeted politely, kneeling beside the boy. “It’s an honor to finally meet your acquaintance. I am a longstanding colleague of your father, Andric. My name is Lord Ozwell Spencer, but you may call me Ozwell.”

The lord extended his hand. Albert stared at it. Clean, soft skin. No scars. No calluses. There was a big ring with a familiar crest on its face. It made his head hurt as he tried to recall where he’d seen it. They had never met before, but the boy felt this man somehow knew all about him. He didn’t take the offered palm. The smile was camouflage, the handshake a venomous bite.

Ozwell’s British accent carried a mix of elegance and power. It was more evident than Albert’s father’s accent, which had lost much of its original Germanic cadence from working in England.

The lord didn’t seem displeased when Albert didn't take his hand. He softly chuckled, his eyes still not leaving the boy. “Strong, silent type, I see. I like that in a young man.” He motioned to Albert’s face. "Did you get into a fight at school?”

He was so used to it that Albert had forgotten all about it. “My father never appreciated me challenging him.” Albert glared at the lord. “Tell me, did my father get his just compensation for dropping me at this hellhole?”

Ozwell glanced back at the doctor with a pleased smirk. His friend didn’t smile back, looking more surprised than anything, and scribbled on his clipboard.

“I assure you, young man, that ‘compensation’ was for something else…something before you were born that I owed him. His research is valuable to my company. And so we thought it best I take you in for a bit so he could work away on a very important enterprise.”

Why did adults always lie? Did they think him gullible?

“Something tells me you aren’t so heartbroken over it,” Ozwell said softly, offering the boy a friendly, reassuring smile. “Trust me, you’ll be far happier here. My dear friend Dr. Hensley will just run a few more tests to make sure you are in good health, and then we can get you situated, alright?”

Albert didn’t bother nodding or answering. He didn’t have a choice. They escorted him through the bright, winding hallways of the medical facility. His head hurt. He spotted other children here but never crossed paths with them.

“Are you alright, Albert?” Ozwell asked.

“The lights hurt my eyes.”

The lord slowly nodded, seemingly logging it away with a quick side glance at Dr. Hensely.

When they got to their destination, it wasn’t another patient room, it was a fully functioning laboratory, similar to his father’s. They took him into the back where Dr. Hensley carefully performed a set of tests, including drawing more blood. Afterwards, he was left alone so they could talk in the room next door.

Albert hopped down from his seat and padded over to the cracked door to eavesdrop.

“I told you he was a beautiful specimen, didn’t I?” Ozwell stated. “I’m eager to see him as an adult after the indoctrination and training. He will be the perfect candidate for the next evolution of my project. Tell me the results you’ve received.”

“He’s in impeccable health, my Lord,” Dr. Hensley answered. “He’s developing how we had anticipated and his new genetic screening results are what you were hoping for.”

“Perfect to pair with Alex in the future, then?”

Alex? His sister he’d recently found out about? Pair with her how?

“Without a doubt. However, I am concerned with his lack of socialization and interpersonal skills.”

“He was raised that way on purpose. Don’t worry, he’ll gain those with James.” The lord paused, thinking, and then asked, “Was the light sensitivity listed before on his genetics? This is the first I’ve heard of it.”

Dr. Hensely shook his head. “No, but it’s a common condition when breeding for the Aryan characteristics that you desire. Nothing to be concerned about.”

“Does he remember anything outside of Andric?”

“He does recall the boarding school with the other Wesker children, but not enough that concerns me. The mind manipulation and synthetic memories are solid. If we continue doing what we are doing, he will never remember it all on his own.”

What?!

“Excellent,” Ozwell praised. “Start the next process immediately. I’m leaving for home to meet with Lord Ashford, Lord Henry, and Lord Beardsley tomorrow. James has already been informed and has prepared for Albert to stay with him. Just make sure to wipe his memories of the last few days and reprogram him before handing him over.”

“As you wish, my Lord.”

“And I mean it, Theodore. The utmost care and diligence in handling Albert. His value is beyond estimation. He is one of the most important assets of our future.”

Asset? His father had called him the opposite…yet the same, gut-churning feeling came from the word. The same bad taste in his mouth as though he was just something to be used. A tool, a weapon, but in the end, thrown away. 

Panicking, the boy raced to the door, knowing full well it would be locked. He turned the knob and tugged on it anyway. I have to get out of here! 

It didn't budge. Trapped like always.

He didn’t want to forget. He didn’t want his mind manipulated. He didn’t want to be controlled. Ruled. If only he was stronger…

What had he done to deserve this? His father’s voice played in his head, blaming him for his mother’s death, day after day after day. Was it that? He didn’t mean for it to happen!

Albert moved away from the door when Ozwell and Dr. Hensely emerged from the back room. The boy pretended to be interested in the x-rays on the wall, feigning composure.

“Well, Albert, my boy,” the lord sighed, the same creepy smile and watchful eyes on him, “I must take my leave. I have important duties to attend. Dr. Hensely will take good care of you. Please behave for him. I'll see you soon.”

Albert stayed silent, a growing knot of disgust and hatred twisting in his stomach. He thinks I belong to him. I’m not his. I don’t belong to anyone!

After Ozwell left, Dr. Hensely patted the examination table with a warm smile. “Okay, buddy. Just one shot and you’re good to go! I’m sure you’re ready to get out of here. We have a nice room and meal ready for you.”

Albert didn’t move. It came rushing back to him. The shot wasn’t an immunization of any sort. It was to put him to sleep. Then he wouldn’t remember when he awoke.

They’ve done this to me before…multiple times. He couldn’t recall how many. It was all too fuzzy. His head pounded.

Albert shook his head. “No.”

Dr. Hensely was surprised by his answer, putting his clipboard down and rubbing the back of his head. “Oh come now, Albert. Surely a strong, brave young man such as yourself isn’t afraid of a little immunity boost?”

“Liar,” Albert hissed. “It's anesthesia. You want to knock me out and make it so I don’t remember.”

“W-What? No! That’s absurd! I’m only here to help you.”

The boy refused to move, glaring at the doctor.

Dr. Hensely sighed. “Look boy, you’re doing this whether you want to or not. It’s out of your control. Either you come over here willingly or I have thirty employees outside this room that will hold you down. You wouldn't want another blackeye, would you? So which one is it?”

Albert kept his challenging gaze, one fist balled, his chest a tight knot. No choice. No control. They controlled him. They did own him.

Never breaking eye contact, Albert slowly approached the doctor and sat on the examination table. Dr. Hensely, tense and agitated, let out a deep breath and picked up the syringe.

“Get used to the fact that you will never be in control, kid. That’s how it is here. I’m sorry.”

You will be sorry…

He had to remember. No matter what. He couldn’t let them do this to him…again.

Dr. Hensely leaned in and injected Albert’s arm with the drug. The boy winced, glaring at the doctor in growing hatred…until he snatched up a scalpel on the nearby tool tray, and stabbed it into Hensley’s jugular vein.

Blood sprayed all over Albert just as the world started to spin. Dr. Hensely crashed backwards onto the floor with an agonized cry, gripping his throat.

Just before the world went black, Dr. Hensely bled out all over the floor in front of him. He heard the gurgled curses, felt the warm blood that drenched him, tasted it in his mouth. None of those things compared to the satisfying rush of power and victory he felt in that moment. He had overthrown a ruler. He could conquer them. He would conquer them all.

He should’ve done it to his father, but it was a start. They would not be able to suppress his awakening forever. One day the blinders would be removed and he would remember…and then everyone would be sorry.

The blue eyes, astute and austere, burned into his very soul, seemingly reading his deepest, darkest thoughts. The smile, proud and valiant, hid depravity within an invisible mask of dignity and power.

He couldn’t understand this feeling of being revolted by this man, yet, concurrently, being drawn to him.

“Albert?”

Albert looked away from the eerie oil painting of Lord Ozwell E. Spencer, not realizing he had lost himself in thought under the sharp gaze. He glanced up at Dr. James Marcus…his new guardian. The man was in his fifties with graying brown hair and wore a brown suit. Composed and shrewd, he was a bit harder to read compared to most adults for Albert. He still didn’t know what to think about his new guardian, but for better or for worse, the boy was stuck with him. For now.

It had been a long week. His father had dropped him off here in the States to live with Dr. Marcus, although he couldn’t remember much of the trip or the days after. Has jet lag affected me this acutely before? James had briefly shown him around the large mansion that belonged to Ozwell, before proceeding to the Umbrella Executive Training School. Apparently, James resided here in his laboratory, with his own living quarters, which is where Albert would mostly be staying. Soon, he would be attending the school as well.

James approached Albert when he didn’t move, he himself looking upon the portrait.

“My dear old friend,” James said with a wry smile. “He’s done so much for me…he will do a lot for you as well, Albert. Just remember he is the same as the Snake in the Garden of Eden. Watch his tongue…and certainly watch his bite.”

Albert wasn’t religious by any means, but he knew the stories. “You attribute your friend to the Devil?”

James smirked down at him, delighted. “Better to acknowledge you’re friends with the Devil than to deny it. Come along. There’s someone you need to meet.”

Albert hesitated, his eyes lowering to the floor. His polished shoes matched the equally polished floors of the school. His head hurt so bad. He tried to remember what happened before coming here, but it was all a haze. He recalled his father on the plane. He had said something to him before leaving. He just couldn’t remember what. Ozwell had told him his accommodations were temporary before handing him over to James, but this didn’t feel temporary.

“My father isn’t coming back for me…is he?”

James paused, frowning. He considered his next words. “No. He got what he wanted out of you. And in time, so will Ozwell and myself. But no worries, my boy. You are where you are meant to be. Trust me. In time, you will make them all pay. I’ll show you how.”

What an interesting response from an adult. Albert then followed him closer than he had on the whole tour. James led them to his living quarters nestled adjacent to the laboratory of the training school. It was a nice-sized apartment, modern and clean…a little more room than what Albert and his father were accustomed to.

“William, come out here,” James called. “There’s someone here you need to meet.”

Albert looked around the living room. Spacious. Hardwood floors. Brand new furniture. Paintings and photos adorning the walls. It hardly looked lived in. There was a wall dedicated to a trip to Africa and James’ doctorates. He settled on an intriguing photograph full of beautiful red and gold flowers with peculiar shaped petals, nothing like he had ever seen before.

Soft footsteps rushed into the living room. When Albert turned around, he was surprised to see another boy, having expected William to be an adult. The boy was smaller than him, maybe a year or two younger, with short blonde hair and blue eyes, just like him.

William looked just as surprised to see Albert as he was to see him, but the shock quickly turned into a big, toothy grin and he nearly hopped over to Albert in excitement.

“No way! You got me a brother?!”

“William, settle down. I don’t care what you call yourselves. Just get along. William this is Albert, Albert this is William. You’ll be roommates so get used to each other. I have to make a phone call.”

He was never informed there would be someone else while living with James, let alone someone his age.

Albert tensed and moved away when William eased closer with hushed excitement, especially now since it was only them. Albert had never mingled with other kids before and was unsure of the formalities.

“Nice to meet you, Albert! Can I call you Bert? Oooh, how about Al? I like Al!”

“No. Just Albert,” he grumpily answered, already irritated with the other boy’s whimsical behavior.

“I like your accent Al, are you not from the U.S.? You’ll like it here. James is alright, I guess, but the school is amazing! I’m the youngest child prodigy to be studying under Umbrella!”

This boy was a child prodigy as well? Albert looked him over skeptically. He decided to move away, giving into instinct instead of attempting conversation. He had no clue how to handle this interaction.

William followed, his excitement waning only slightly, instead a mild diffidence forming. “So uh, where are you from?”

“Not here.”

“What happened to your family?”

Albert clenched his jaw. “None of your business.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” William reassured. “I’m an orphan too. It’s why I’m with James. Been here for about a year. I never knew my parents.”

When Albert didn’t answer, William gasped and ran around to block his path.

“Wait a minute! Are you a prodigy too? No wonder James took you in! Oh, this is exciting! Finally, some competition! We could test each other’s limits and push ourselves further! Granted, that’s likely why they put us together to begin with, but just think of all the fun it will be. I mean, I’ll probably win, but it’s-”

Albert punched William hard in the nose. Partly to make him shut up…mostly to establish dominance.

The younger boy yelped, his nose busted, blood pouring out of his nostrils. He cupped his face, staring at Albert in shock as his eyes watered from the sting. “Ow!”

“Well, I just tested the limits of your face, and I must say…you need some work,” Albert sneered.

“What the hell is going on here?!” came James’ angered voice as he rushed into the room, practically yanking the two boys apart.

“I’m fine!” William blurted through his fingers.

Their new guardian sighed, shaking his head. “Why did I agree to this?” He headed for the door, snapping his fingers at William. “Come along, both of you. William, we need to do an x-ray.”

“Oh, it’s definitely broken,” William stated calmly and obediently followed after James.

“Albert, come,” James ordered in the doorway, glaring back at him.

“He brought it on himself,” Albert grumbled, and begrudgingly followed.

“Did not!”

“You did so!”

“BOYS!”

A few months later…

There was a chill to the air, but Albert was numb to it, lost in thought as he waited. Continuous mumbles soon interrupted his thoughts and he glared over at his “roommate”.

William had perched himself so he was lying upside down, halfway off the examination table, his blond hair hanging from his head and brushing the tiled floor. His face was turning red from all the blood rushing to his head.

Albert sighed. “What are you doing?”

“I’m bored! Why do you have to come for tests more than I do?”

“I don’t know, and who said you had to stay behind?”

“And go with James to that old person meeting? No thanks! You’re way more fun, Al.”

“How fortunate for me.”

The lights were burning his eyes as they waited. He squeezed them shut…and tried to tune out William in the process.

Albert was still settling in with James and William. He’d excelled in the boarding school since day one, enjoying it immensely compared to the one his father had sent him to. As annoying as his little roommate was, Albert found himself minding his company less with each subsequent day. Maybe he was building a tolerance to him…or maybe William was growing on him a little, although he refused to admit it.

William started humming, his fidgeting rustling the paper on the exam table. Albert opened his eyes and glared, witnessing his roommate attempting to slide down into a handstand, using the table as a brace to keep his balance.

Albert stood and reached over, grabbing William’s leg and yanking. With a startled “Ack!”, William toppled over. “You just had to do it, didn’t you,” he groaned as he got to his feet, dusting himself off.

“My head is killing me. I’d appreciate it if you stopped being bothersome,” Albert replied, cupping his fingers over his eyes.

“Ohhhh, it’s the lights again. Hmm.” William stood there thinking hard, glaring up at the bright lights while rubbing his chin. “I know!”

He headed for the door. The locked door. The one that always contained Albert. “It’s locked.”

“Psh! That doesn’t stop the great William Birkin!”

The nine year old prodigy procured a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door…just like that. Albert jumped to his feet when the door opened. “Where did you get that?!”

William looked confused at first. “Oh. I stole it from James. No locked doors for us, buddy! Come on, I have something for you!”

William stepped out of the room without a care in the world. Albert hesitated at the threshold. The fuzzy memories, the consequences, they stifled him for a moment before William snatched his arm and yanked him forward.

“Come on, slow poke!”

Albert followed William through the hallways. He had most of it memorized now, but was still not as familiar with it as William. The adults didn’t pay them much mind, too busy with their own duties down in the executive school’s research facility. William slipped into a smaller laboratory and beckoned him to follow.

By the time Albert caught up, William had snatched something off of a researcher’s desk and shoved it into his hands. “There! Now when you’re in the room with the bright lights, they won’t bother you! And you’ll look cool in the process!”

“Sun…glasses?”

“Yeah!”

Albert sighed. “Whose even are these?”

“Who cares? They’re yours now! Trust me, he won’t miss them.” William smacked Albert’s shoulder as he headed out. “Let’s get back before they miss us though.”

Albert nodded, slowly following after him, looking the sunglasses over. They looked positively ridiculous to say the least. He wouldn’t wear them unless he absolutely had to…but…it made him recall that no one bothered to help him with his eyes in all the years he had complained about the pain.

They returned to the patient room to wait. William sat down beside him, a few feet away, as he knew Albert didn’t like anyone close to him. But he slowly and quietly inched himself closer, and then presented something else to him when Albert didn’t snap at him to move away.

It was the key that unlocked the door. “I have another copy. This key is a master key for most of the facility. I…understand. I’ve been in locked rooms my whole life, too. But um…we can help each other not be controlled so much by them, yeah?”

Albert slowly took the key, peering at it as though it was invaluable treasure. He nodded silently in reply, squeezing his fingers around the brass.

Wincing from the lights, Albert slipped on the sunglasses. They were too big for him, but they did help tremendously against the bright glare. 

William tittered next to him. “You look dashing!”

Albert snorted a suppressed laugh. And honestly, he couldn’t remember if he had ever laughed before.

March 19th 1998…

You can wait on me for once, asshole.

Wesker scowled at Claire’s text. It pertained to their established assignation tomorrow. She certainly enjoyed testing his forbearance at times. Not for the first time, he questioned his decision to gift her the PDA for maintaining contact.

His response would have to wait, however. He glanced at his watch after stepping foot into the Circular Café near Clock Tower Plaza. It was a popular bistro nestled right on the river. He soon spotted his quarry waiting for him at a booth.

The information broker, Aaron Roth, stared out onto Circular River, the water absorbing the morning hues of golds, purples, and reds. On the other side of the river, Raccoon City was a resplendent backdrop to this first act, towering, shadowy buildings in fresh dawn under a canopy of sun-tinged clouds. 

Like most prey that had advanced senses to detect prowling predators, Roth caught sight of Wesker halfway towards the booth. Guarded, the broker inched his steaming coffee closer when Wesker sat across from him.

Nothing was said at first, even after Wesker pulled off his shades and stared his emissary down. A young waitress soon arrived at their booth.

“Good morning, Captain! Your usual?”

Wesker broke off his staredown long enough to give the girl two seconds of his time, direct eye contact, an artificial smile, and one nod. “Yes, that will do.”

“On it, sir!”

Wesker leaned back, leering at Roth. “Didn’t expect to find yourself back in Raccoon City so soon?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“How was your trip?”

Roth snorted, half-rolling his eyes while sipping his coffee. “Let’s skip the bullshit smalltalk, yeah?”

“Straightforward and efficient, as always. Good. It plays in your favor to keep me happy. Now proceed.”

Roth picked up a large white envelope that had been lying next to him. He pushed it across the table to his master.

“Well, the confidential data you and Birkin blackmailed out of Bard is correct. Christine Henry does have a secret project in the works. Laboratory Six in Paris. Derived from the Nemesis Project that’s been around for nearly a decade. Evidence suggests that it is in direct competition with Sergei’s pet project, T-ALOS. That explains why she wanted all the info on it three months ago.”

Wesker opened the envelope and flipped through the documents enclosed inside. Nemesis T-Type. Yes, this was it.

“Another tyrant-based project? It seems both Umbrella USA and Umbrella Europe cannot shake their unbridled rivalry.” Wesker enclosed the stolen research safely back inside its envelope. “All the better for me, I suppose.”

Instead of answering, Roth stared behind him, his usual composure becoming strained. By the time Wesker noticed, it was too late.

“The nerve you have to meet him here.”

Wesker sighed. “Sit, William. And be nice.”

“I was hella nice to Bennett. I’m still finding pieces of him, by the way,” William growled like a feral cat, and frankly, he kind of looked like one too after three nights underground.

His partner sat beside him, but looked like he wanted to reach across the table and scratch out the eyes of their liaison.

“Will, in just the span of a few months, Aaron has compensated us far over what he stole from you years ago. Let it go.”

“But he sold it to Alexia.”

Wesker glared at him.

William sighed like an indignant teenager. “Fiiiine.”

“Here you are, sir!” came the bubbly voice of their waitress, and she sat Wesker’s coffee in front of him. She then quickly presented William with a wide smile. “Dr. Birkin, you too? Do you want your usual?”

“Nah, Al’s paying today. So get me three orders of biscuits and sausage gravy, an everything bagel with avocado, a Spanish omelet, a side order of bacon, and a large triple shot caramel latte with extra whipped cream. Oooh actually, add another shot to that because I’m beat.”

“You got it, Doctor! I’ll get that out to you pronto.”

Wesker glared at William after the waitress bounded away, although Roth was left looking a little confused. 

“What?” Will asked. “I’m hungry. Plus, I have a family to feed. You just keep drinking your sad black coffee, my friend. It will never be as black as your soul.”

“Actually, I am drinking a macchiato.”

“Aw, look at you giving yourself a little light. I knew Claire would be good for you!”

“Wait. Claire Redfield is still alive?” Roth asked.

Both Wesker and William broke off their repartee to glare at the info broker at the same time. He had unceremoniously readjusted their focus. Roth quickly regretted asking, as Wesker’s glare alone could kill.

“Why do you care, Aaron?” Will asked.

The information broker, calm and sly, lightly shrugged, feigning skepticism. “I just figured she’d long served her purpose by now.”

Such a clever rat.

Wesker scratched the top of his hand, an unspoken, discreet message to William. “What else do you have for us? Good news, I hope?”

Roth slowly nodded after swallowing. “Yes…She has agreed to meet you both. Unfortunately, the arrangements are a little tight because of her schedule. In two weeks. It’s the only time I could secure from her. But if you’re wanting to get info on her secret project and any of her other dirty little secrets, I suggest you take advantage post haste. I’ve already spoken with Alex and she has Daniel on board to help.”

“Two weeks?! There’s no way!” William grumbled. “You couldn’t make it in a month or so?”

The broker shook his head. “Dr. Henry is of noble blood. Very proud. Very secretive. Quite powerful and influential. She’s also quite fickle. She usually only gives out opportunities like this once. I highly suggest you take it while it stands, or you might lose her as an ally completely.”

“It won’t be an issue,” Wesker calmly added.

“Speak for yourself, I’m way busier than you!” Will scoffed.

“If I may,” Roth cleared his throat. “Will this not catch the attention of those above you? A UID agent and the Chief Researcher going on a trip to Paris to meet one of Umbrella Europe’s executives? Surely that will catch Spencer’s attention?”

William frowned and looked at Wesker, who didn’t even blink, but merely passed Roth a condescending smile. “I appreciate your ‘concern’, Aaron, but I already have it resolved.”

“Of course you do.” Both Roth and William said in unison, only to give each other weird looks.

“Proceed forward and tell Daniel to contact me. We’ll be there.” Wesker smirked. “It will be a pleasure to finally meet Christine Henry in person.”

Roth dipped his head and rose. “I’ll get it done.”

The info broker left without another word. William watched him depart completely from the café while Wesker took a long drink of his coffee.

“Such a good, obedient little puppy,” Will scoffed. “Until he shits in our shoes.”

Wesker smacked him with the envelope. “Stop your caviling.”

His partner took the envelope and stood just about the time their waitress returned with William’s order.

“Here’s your food all bagged up and your caramel latte with four shots of espresso! You might have a hard time sleeping tonight.” She giggled.

“Sleep? What’s that?” Will joked and winked at her. “Thanks, doll. Come on, Captain, let’s go!”

Wesker yawned and followed William out to his car. After the Chief Researcher secured his food on the back floorboard, he slid behind the wheel while Wesker waited in the passenger seat. Wesker finished his coffee while his partner took the time to go through the documents inside the envelope.

“Hmm, so after nearly a decade of impasse, it seems their ‘Nemesis Project’ has finally been redeveloped. You know, I met Henry briefly when Spencer imported one of their Nemesis Alpha parasites a decade ago. Remember that trip I made to Paris with Spencer like a week after we filled Marcus full of holes? Anyway, her father was in charge then. And since there were no BOWs at the time that could survive the parasite, I took the liberty of implanting it into Lisa. I got my beloved G-Virus out of it! I can only imagine what these new parasites could do if injected into Lisa now…But it seems they plan on implanting them into the next-generation T-103 Tyrants they want to mass produce on Sheena Island. They don’t even have the bugs worked out of the Epsilon strain or the T-002! Cart before the horse much?”

“They wish to test the T-002 on live combatants and use the data towards the final improvements for the new models. That is nothing new,” Wesker explained. “It will be machine versus organism in the coming months on which project will helm Phase Three and determine the future of the Tyrant line.”

“My money’s on this bad boy,” William replied with a child-like grin, staring at the prototype’s design in his lap. “Such intelligence! And look at that artillery!”

“Nature will always prevail,” Wesker agreed.”That is one constant in this world. T-ALOS may have a highly confidential A.I. nexus, but its advantages do not outweigh its disadvantages compared to the Nemesis Alpha parasites.”

“I do spot an error in this blueprint, though.” Will tapped the diagram. “Given how the parasite grows and attaches itself to the central nervous system and brain, I highly predict the cranial and facial tissues will have to be stapled or stretched. He won’t be this pretty.”

“What does that matter?”

“It doesn’t. I'm just pre-bragging how I’ll be right. You’ll see.”

“I will get in contact with Ada. She can come along with us and oversee Daniel.”

“Um…isn’t she on assignment in South America?”

Wesker frowned. He’d been so busy these past few weeks it had slipped his mind. He thought it over. “Alex is also unavailable. It would be in our best interest to have someone else we can trust on this trip. Unfortunately, we might just have to make do with Daniel.”

“Hey, didn’t you say Claire speaks French?”

That’s all it took for Wesker’s brain to do what it did best. Calculate, plot, scheme, orchestrate…

In that same moment, his phone dinged, and a familiar name read across the screen. Claire, sending him another text in response from earlier.

I’ll be there.

Wesker stared at the words, his lips spreading into a wide, devilish grin.

[cetaitlaverite]

Why All This Music?

Masters of the Air - Rosie Rosenthal x OC

the link to the masterlist is here picking up right where we left off. hope you love <3

09. Up for A Vote

Freddie drew in a deep breath, thinking hard about where to start. She hadn’t spoken about Daniel like this since she’d first met Millie and Jem. Hadn’t had to, and especially hadn’t wanted to.

“I met Daniel when I was fourteen,” she began, fixing her eyes on the control panel in front of her. “I was born in Oxford, see, but my family moved to Vienna when I was two because my father got a job at the university. But, eventually, he got another job at Oxford University again, so we moved right back, to the same house we’d lived in before. But there was a new family living next door by now. It had been twelve years since we’d left.”

She smiled ruefully, continuing, “I met Daniel when his mother made him knock on the door with flowers for my mother. I remember they were tulips, a pale shade of yellow. They were beautiful. So was he, by the way.”

Here, Rosie laughed quietly to himself but didn’t make to interrupt.

“Anyway, we fell in love very quickly, even though we were fourteen and fifteen at the time. He was my boyfriend within a month and we stayed that way, never once ever thought about looking elsewhere. When the war broke out for us back in ‘39, when I was nineteen and he was twenty, he enlisted immediately. He joined the RAF because his father had been a pilot. They trained him as a fighter pilot and he got assigned to flying Hurricanes - he was good at it, too. Survived the Battle of Britain, when they were sending fighters up constantly. He would be dogfighting three times a day, sometimes, for hours at a time. He’d get two hours of sleep most nights. The Luftwaffe threw everything at them. But Daniel, he - he was just so good at what he did. Always did it smiling, too. Always found it hard to complain. He told me that he could never bring himself to mind when he’d get called out once again, even if it was the middle of the night and he’d only just fallen asleep, because he knew with every German fighter he took down he was making the world safer for me. Said he didn’t want us to have to raise children in a Britain where everyone was speaking German.”

Freddie laughed quietly, swiping away the tears which had gathered under her eyes. “He hated that I can speak German, by the way. He used to hate it when I spoke it to him. He couldn’t understand me, of course, so I’d call him all manner of sweet names and tell him I loved him in all these poetic ways and he’d demand that I stop so insistently it’s like he thought I was cursing him.

“Anyway,” she went on with a shake of her head, “I followed him to war, obviously. Well, as much as I could. I asked him how I could get myself closest to him and he told me mine would be the last voice he heard before a mission and the first voice after if I became a wireless operator, so that’s what I did. That’s why I lied and said I couldn’t speak German when I enlisted - so that I’d get to talk to him, look after him in my own small way. He put in a good word for me with one of the RAF higher-ups and got me assigned to the same base as him.”

Her smile faded as she realised she would have to speak the part of the story she hated, the part which brought it to its end. She tipped her head back to rest against the seat and shut her eyes. “He went down on a Monday in March 1941. The 10th. Shot down by a Messerschmitt. His plane went down in flames and crashed not far from the airfield. He’d been so close to home. 

“I was working at the time, guiding some of the others through the landing. I remember thinking they sounded strange over the radio but I figured it must just have been a particularly bad mission. I always thought I would know immediately if Daniel had gone down, would just feel it or something, I don’t know, but I hadn’t. And then after interrogation and everything his squadron leader came to find me, took me to a private office, and told me what had happened.”

Freddie was breathing heavily, trying to speak around her tears. Two and a half years later and it still ached as if it had happened yesterday.

“I didn’t believe him at first, of course, but the other fighters in the squadron had all seen it. They sat with me for hours, assuring me over and over again that they weren’t mistaken, that he was gone, and that he wasn’t coming back, because I kept insisting that he might have survived and they needed to look for him.

“But,” she continued, “he hadn’t. So they gave me his footlocker and the responsibility of seeing to it that his belongings went where they were supposed to go. I kept a few things, of course, gave a few things to his closest friends, then sent the rest to his parents. I visit them every time I go home and they always welcome me like a daughter but I find it -” She had to pause to breathe heavily, choking on her own words. “I find it so hard to look at them now. His mum, she - she has his smile.”

Freddie had her eyes squeezed shut, trying to keep in the tears even as they fought to free themselves from behind her eyelids. In spite of her best efforts they came stumbling down her cheeks anyway, the taste salty in her mouth, the wetness cold on her skin. Her eyes were starting to itch because of them, the back of her throat starting to taste strange.

“Oh, Fred,” Rosie said quietly, watching her fighting to get herself under control. Gone was the playful, vibrant girl from merely minutes earlier who’d pretended to shoot down the Luftwaffe’s finest. As much as he missed that version of her, longed to make her smile again, he couldn’t help wanting to scoop up this version of her and cradle her to his chest, whisper about all the good things in the world until she remembered she was the best of them.

Rosie’s soft words, his sympathy, made her sob. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, willing the tears away, and started apologising for how she’d thoroughly collapsed in on herself when her descriptions of Daniel had been intended to be happy. 

But Rosie only hushed her softly. He reached for her, curled one arm beneath her knees and the other around her waist and lifted her into his lap.

Freddie curled into him immediately, instinctively. She couldn’t find it within herself to be ashamed of how she was seeking comfort in another man while crying over her lost love. She tucked her head beneath his chin, held on tight to his shirt, buried her face into his neck and tried to drink in the smell of him, the warmth of him, the feeling of him - secure, reliable, safe. Alive.

“You can’t ever go down, Rosie,” she started saying, her voice wet and thick with tears. “You always have to come back. Always. Do you hear me?”

“Always,” Rosie assured her, tightening his arms around her, bringing her closer into his chest. “I’m not gonna leave you behind, Fred. I promise.”

“I take promises very seriously, Rosie,” she told him, sniffling. 

He smiled in spite of himself. “Me too.”

“You can’t break it,” she insisted. “You have to keep coming back. Every time. You have to.”

“I will,” he assured her, soft and sincere. “I’ll keep on comin’ back, sweetheart. You’ll get sick of hearing my voice on your radio.”

Finally, mercifully, she giggled. It was wet and weepy but it was enough. “I won’t,” she disagreed. “I like hearing your serious pilot’s voice over the radio.”

Rosie grinned, tilted his head down to press a kiss to the top of her head. “You making fun of me, Fred?”

He could feel her smiling against his neck. “Absolutely.” Her tears were slowing now, as was her breath. He could feel her breathing deeper and yet her tight grip on him never faltered.

They lapsed into silence as she calmed down. He listened avidly to her breathing. “You want me to take you back to your bunk?” he asked after a while.

Freddie inhaled deeply. “I just want to sit here for a little while longer,” she confessed, shifting just slightly closer.

She worried, momentarily, that Rosie would think her clingy, demanding he let her stay in his lap when he’d only given it to her out of kindness. But all he did was keep on holding her, resting his cheek on her head. Slowly, he began running one gentle hand up and down her back, over and over again in a steady rhythm, until, eventually, she drifted off to sleep.

Freddie woke up in her bunk in the pitch darkness with a sick feeling brewing in her stomach. The whiskey, she knew. All around her were the sounds of breathing, the hut now full of wireless operators shifting and sighing softly in their sleep.

Meatball shifted briefly at the foot of Freddie’s bed, smacked his lips, and then settled. Freddie laid still.

“Mils?” she whispered into the dark. She’d woken facing Millie’s bed and hazarded a guess that she wouldn’t be able to sleep.

“Yeah?” Millie whispered back after a beat.

“How are you feeling?”

Millie shifted in bed, presumably rolling onto her side to face Freddie, and hummed. “Drunk,” she said. “Jem stole another bottle anyway.”

“Did she get away with it?”

“Of course she did,” Millie replied. “They had fewer people working the bar because hardly anyone was in there. She got behind the bar under the guise of getting me a glass of water to sober me up and slipped straight out. No one saw the bottle tucked under her arm, I’m sure, but even if they did, no one asked.”

“What did you do while I was gone?”

“Talk,” Millie said. She yawned. “Had a pillow fight. Played with Meatball for a bit and then took him out to go to the toilet. Then came back in to go to bed.”

“Sounds like fun.”

Millie scoffed softly. “Not as much fun as you were having, I’m sure.”

Freddie groaned. “What did he tell you?” She’d hoped Rosie would have dropped her off with few words to share about their time together.

“Oh, you know,” Millie said airily. “Just that you’re the best dogfighter he’s ever seen.”

Freddie groaned once more. She lifted her head off of her pillow just to slam it down over her ears, lest she be reminded of her idiotic drunken actions.

Millie was laughing when she removed the pillow. “Don’t worry,” she said around her quiet giggles, “he thought it was cute.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” Freddie despaired into the darkness.

Millie kept on laughing. “He’s smitten with you, Fred,” she assured her. “I can tell. I don’t think there’s anything you could do now that would change that. If anything, your little performance tonight has just made him like you more.”

“I’m still embarrassed,” Freddie told her.

Freddie couldn’t see it but Millie was grinning. “I’m sure you are. But I wouldn’t worry too much. He set you down on your bed and tucked you in like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. He was so gentle with you, so clearly enchanted. He had stars in his eyes, to tell you the truth.”

Freddie smiled to herself, turned her face into her pillow as though to conceal her blush even though Millie couldn’t see it in the darkness. She thought back on her time with Rosie, on the emotional rollercoaster that it had been, and sighed before venturing, “I told him about Daniel.”

“You did?” Millie sounded surprised.

“Yeah,” Freddie confirmed. “I’d only intended to talk about what he was like, really, but I ended up telling Rosie the whole story. Started crying and everything. Inconsolable, I was.”

Against her will, Millie laughed.

“But I think I feel better now,” Freddie continued. “I’ve not been fair to him, really, being so hot and cold. At least now he knows why.”

“You probably needed a good cry, I reckon,” Millie observed. “Especially into Rosie’s arms,” she added as an afterthought. Freddie could just imagine her smirking.

Freddie laughed softly to herself. “I won’t disagree.”

They lapsed into silence, both thinking hard on different things. Freddie suspected Millie might have finally fallen asleep before she spoke up softly once more, less certain and less jovial than she’d been before. “He’s looking after you, isn’t he?” she asked. “Rosie?”

Freddie smiled quietly. “He is,” she assured her. 

“Good,” Millie decided.

Freddie wasn’t sure at which point they both fell asleep. It seemed like one minute they’d been talking and the next they were waking up, groggy and nauseous and groaning about banging headaches.

For all of their complaining, however, it was clear that no one felt worse than Jem. Her head was down the toilet before they’d even woken up and there it stayed for the better part of the morning until she felt brave enough to follow them to breakfast. Mercifully, she’d been too drunk last night to even consider changing out of her dishevelled uniform, so she traipsed behind the group as she was.

The table of wireless operators had clearly seen better days. Freddie was shivering even while she sat wrapped in her blanket, Millie had her hands over her eyes and was complaining to anyone who would listen that it was too bright inside the mess hall, and Jem’s head was on the table. She would have face planted into her porridge had Paddy not swiped the bowl away at the last second.

“How much did you lot drink last night, anyway?” Amy asked, amused, around a sip of coffee. She and the other girls who had spent their night in the officers’ club weren’t looking too sprightly either, but they didn’t look quite as half-dead as Freddie, Millie, and Jem. They’d drunk a lot but not two entire bottles of whiskey’s worth, as in Freddie’s case, or three in Millie and Jem’s.

“Too much,” Freddie mumbled, clutching her blanket tighter. Her teeth were chattering and she couldn’t even begin to stomach the thought of food right now. Even the sight of it was making her feel queasy. 

“Not enough,” Millie disagreed, groaning and pressing her forehead to Freddie’s blanket-clad shoulder.

She’d wanted to drink away the reality of Brady being gone, Freddie knew, had wanted to drink so much that when she woke up she could believe he was back. But she couldn’t and he wasn’t. MIA or POW, Freddie wasn’t sure, she just prayed he wasn’t dead.

“Look alive, Fred,” Paddy said suddenly, though she didn’t look much better herself. “Rosie’s Riveters are coming over.”

Freddie lifted her blanket and covered her face, then rested her forehead on the table the same as Jem had. She’d embarrassed herself enough in front of Rosie last night, he didn’t need to see her pale and sickly as she fought the demons of the morning after as well.

“Ladies,” Pappy greeted as they neared. Rosie and his crew took seats at the empty table beside them, echoing their own greetings as they did.

“You okay, Fred?” Rosie asked, an amused smile in his voice. She could tell he had taken up the seat behind her from the closeness of his voice, wondered if he’d had to shoo anyone away for it or if they’d all just known to let their fearless leader take it.

“No,” she replied, her voice muffled from where she was speaking into both the blanket and the table. 

“You should eat something,” he told her, obviously noticing the untouched breakfast she’d pushed away from herself the second she’d sat down. “It’ll make you feel better.”

“Nothing will make me feel better,” she objected.

Rosie laughed and leaned forward until he could rest his hand on her back, heedless of the eyes of the rest of her table - except Jem, of course - on him. “Come on,” he encouraged her, dragging the bowl back towards her. “Just a little.”

“No.”

“For me?”

“No.”

“Ouch.” He knew his grin was so wide he was giving himself away to all of her friends - not to mention his crew, who were sure to tease him relentlessly about this later - but couldn’t seem to hide it. 

“Fred’s got a weak stomach,” Millie explained, swaying slightly as she tried to sit up straight and face Rosie. “She throws up when she’s anxious, when she’s overwhelmed, sometimes when she’s sad, and of course when she’s hungover. So you’d be better off not loading her up with ammunition, Rosie, if you want to know the truth.”

Freddie was sure she’d never been this embarrassed in her whole life. The problem was she couldn’t even deny it because it was completely true. She’d been the same ever since she was little, had apparently inherited it from her mother.

“Mils,” Freddie complained all the same. “That’s so embarrassing.”

“It’s the god’s honest truth, Fred, and you know it,” Millie countered. Freddie could hear the other girls giggling.

“Tell me you’re not thinking of liquidating your assets right now, Freddie, please,” Pappy all but begged. 

“Go away,” Freddie grumbled.

“Our old squadron officer used to call her ‘Prime Minister’,” Jem said, audibly grinning even though her face was still pressed to the tablecloth. “Because she’s always bringing it up for a vote.”

“Fighting words from someone who spent the morning with her head down the toilet,” Freddie retorted, finally sitting up. She let the blanket slip off of her head and pool around her shoulders, rubbing at her eyes and covering her mouth as she yawned.

“Leroy!” barked Squadron Officer Jones as she came stomping into the mess hall.

“Fuck’s sake,” Millie muttered, turning back to their table.

Freddie shrank into her blanket, pretending she hadn’t heard Jones’ call of her last name.

Jones wasn’t fooled. “Section Officer Leroy!” she snapped, marching up to their table.

Freddie sighed but didn’t look at her. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Congratulations,” Jones said dryly, clearly insincerely, “you’ve been promoted. To Flight Officer. Your reassignment training starts today at 1400. Your new CO will pick you up outside your hut. Don’t keep him waiting.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Freddie replied. Her heart had dropped.

“Get excited,” Jones said coldly. “You and I never have to work together again.”

“Lucky bitch,” Millie muttered.

Behind them, Pappy snorted.

Jones slapped Freddie’s new insignia down on the table, turned on her heel, and left.

Freddie watched her go, waited until she had left the mess hall, and then she mumbled, “Fuck.”

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

Here's hopefully a fun one (and thank you for answering the last one!):

Culture is a big thing for me because it's what I studied in school. So I spend a lot of time thinking about how cultures and their languages engage with each other.

Everyone struggles with some word or words, even words in their native language. Words from a foreign language can also throw a wrench in the works. I, personally, have given up on ever being able to pronounce 'charcuterie' or 'worchestershire' correctly. Facts of life for me.

We see the various 'Dorfs speaking flawless Hylian in every game he's in. But there must have been *some* word or phrase that would have given each of them pause. And because Ganondorf is Ganondorf, his pride would not allow him to ever look the fool or admit that he can't do something. Especially not over a silly word.

So my question is: which word or phrase would cause each 'Dorf to stumble? And how would they hide this/what workarounds would they use for that word? (Think using 'fancy fingerfoods board' in place of 'charcuterie', for example, or entirely avoiding a niche subject in conversation on the off chance *that* word comes up.)

I enjoy talking about the hypotheticals and what ifs of the Demon King! Thank YOU for asking and adding to the hyperfixation!

This is a neat one! That is such an interesting study! OwO What drew you to Cultures and languages?

I unfortunately only know English at best, 'Merican at worst. I am trying to learn Spanish and German, maybe get back into hand signs when I lack the ability to speak (Morning me is nonverbal for at least an hour. I know eat and drink in Sign, that's it.) So thinking about Ganondorf doing this sounds so humanizing and cute!

I'm pretty sure that as a Demon/Otherworldly Being, Demise just knows the languages and how to speak them, but he's here too... being nosy...

************************************************************************

It's intriguing to think about how each Ganondorf and Demise might struggle with certain words or phrases. Given their pride, they'd likely develop clever workarounds rather than admit any difficulty. Here’s how I imagine each might handle such challenges:

Wind Waker Ganondorf

"Allegiances": With its tricky consonant clusters, this word could trip him up. He might prefer to say "loyalties" or "alliances" instead.

"Cartographer": Navigating the seas, he’d need to discuss mapmakers, but the word itself could be a tongue-twister. He might opt for "mapmaker" or "navigator."

"Archipelago": A key term for someone ruling over a world of islands, yet the complexity of the word might make him say "island chain" or simply "the islands."

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf

"Chivalry": The concept might be foreign, and the word itself cumbersome. He could sidestep it by using "honor" or "warrior code."

"Pomegranate": A luxurious fruit that might be part of his banquets, but the word itself could be tough. He'd describe it as "red fruit" or avoid it altogether.

"Camaraderie": A concept he might disdain but still discuss, he could swap it with "brotherhood" or "fellowship."

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

"Symbiosis": A scientific term that might not be common in his vocabulary, he'd likely use "mutual benefit" or "partnership."

"Luminescence": Describing the eerie glow of twilight, he might replace it with "glow" or "light" to avoid the word.

"Chandelier": A word he might struggle with in describing grand halls. He'd instead call it "light fixture" or "ceiling lights."

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf

"Telekinesis": Given his powerful magic, he might need this word, but its structure could be tricky. He might just call it "mind control" or "magic force."

"Strategem": A word he might need often, but its pronunciation could be a challenge. He'd opt for "plan" or "tactic" instead.

"Broadsword": A staple weapon, yet the combination of sounds might trip him up, so he'd just say "sword" or "blade."

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf

"Confluence": Discussing where things meet might be necessary, but he might replace this with "meeting point" or "joining."

"Lamentation": A word steeped in emotion, but its complexity could make him prefer "grief" or "mourning."

"Choreography": Perhaps in discussions of ritual or performance, he’d avoid this by saying "dance arrangement" or "movement plan."

Demise

"Reincarnation": A term important to his story, but with complex sounds, he'd prefer "rebirth" or "return."

"Invincibility": A concept he might embody, but the word itself could be a mouthful. He’d use "unbeatable" or "undefeatable."

"Subjugation": A key term for his rule, yet he might find it cumbersome and instead use "conquest" or "domination."

Each would likely avoid these words or find simpler alternatives, carefully steering conversations to maintain their dignity.

[debtsunpaid]

i'm still going apeshit over my new guy while i write their backstory but i'm being a perfectionist about it, so in the meantime here's a few lil things about klavier:

formerly an astrophysicist working for the ESA (and one-time astronaut, but that wasn't always the plan). their colleagues remember him best for their mental math prowess, his ferocity in advocating for their team & their project, the six separate times he almost knocked himself out on the wing of their own spaceplane, and the very, very formal weekly dinners they hosted that no one ever expected to be that formal bc he brought them up like inviting friends over to watch the game on sunday.

re: the dinners: they love to cook for people. love it. very picky about the process and doesn't often like other people helping them (he takes hosting and courtesy towards houseguests very seriously), but doesn't mind people watching or taste-testing. he doesn't do it as much these days, because all the joy was really in the social aspect & he considers themself too dangerous to get close enough to people to invite them over, but they'll still pull out absolutely flawless cutting technique when applicable.

met their fiancée (magdalena) in university bc he was arguing with a professor in the law library where she worked. she came over to tell them to shut the fuck up, and he jumped so badly that she felt guilty later & went back over to apologize, to which he Also apologized & suggested that hitting him with one of the heavier books would have been equally effective. they started talking about each other's work & majors, were going to part ways when the library closed, then awkwardly ended up walking the same way home. to the same apartment complex. for a while after that, whenever klavier went to the library while magdalena was working, she'd catch his eye and pretend to line up a shot with the heaviest book she had on hand, which always made them laugh.

currently a drifting adjunct professor & substitute teacher, as well as an occasional german, spanish, & math tutor. he tends to focus more on teaching/talking about mathematics these days rather than astrophysics, though they've done a few physics lectures here and there; if asked why, they'd say it's because he's still hiding from the german government + MI-6 and it's smarter to avoid being found within his field of expertise. but really it's because the last time they knew what was real & what wasn't was in 1990, the world's ideas about the cosmos have changed drastically since then, and he no longer feels like an expert in anything, or like he even knows the world they're standing on, let alone any worlds elsewhere.

CLIFF NOTES ON THE GOD PROBLEM: klavier was psychically bonded with jallakuntilliokan during his first (and only) spaceflight on the spaceplane hermes because their orbit put them Directly over the geotroniks facility where the magi caecus were firing the fear machine, at the exact moment when john constantine, zed, and marj were completing their ritual to summon its anima (other godly half) and negate its intended damaging influence on the world. but while the beings themselves balanced out, the summoning rituals did not (pagan nation involved 3 people, geotroniks involved 2), and they could not co-exist unevenly in the world, so jallakuntilliokan had to draw on more psychic energy in order to even things out.

luckily for jalla, there was a spaceplane with 3 powerful potential psychics perfectly aligned with the ley lines that it drew its power from, courtesy of string-pulling and secret testing led by the UK magi caecus and klavier's own mother for over a year prior. it was a flimsy backup plan based on the (so they thought) astronomically slim chance the summoning would fail, with the intention that the spaceplane would be intentionally crashed into the facility and some poor suckers would be sacrificed for enough psychic potential + public shock & alarm to rev the fear engine all the way up to its purpose. they just didn't count on jallakuntilliokan sniffing out the supply first.

the other two astronauts were fried, but klavi survived; the burst severely damaged the hermes and it crashed back to earth, veering off course and hitting the baltic sea. all klavier remembers is the burst, seeing his colleagues burn out, the agonizing sensation of something segmenting their brain like an orange, and then being dragged out of the ocean later. he was then secretly held by the german government for three years in the hopes of determining what the fuck had happened & what was now wrong with him, until jallakuntilliokan shoved their consciousness into the Dreaming long enough to take hold of the body and bust out. he's been on the run ever since, all but convinced there's an alien living in his skull, unaware that he's playing host to a god.

[agonyaster]

Life Cycle of a Star

Klavier’s never really known what it means to be a Gavin.

little german boy causes trouble. what is new.

prefer ao3? read here!

…

Klavier got lost in the supermarket when he was four years old. He doesn’t even really remember how, just knows that one moment he was trailing after his mother and their shopping cart with the wonky wheel and the next he was all alone. 

He didn’t cry. Didn’t run to either end of the aisle in a panic or cry out for his mother or Kristoph; just stood there, staring at all the different kinds of laundry detergent, a little dazed at most.

The next person who came down the aisle was a woman. Klavier doesn’t remember her face, but he remembers how she slid a package of dryer sheets into her basket before noticing him. She crouched down low and spoke softly, asking where his parents were and complimenting his shirt. There was a freckle in the center of her palm, one he saw when she grabbed his hand and started to lead him through the store.

He remembers how she nodded along as he told her about Kristoph and counted as high as he could. She had a cat and was a film student at a university nearby. Her laugh was bright when Klavier’s clumsy tongue couldn’t figure out how to say university. 

They got to the front of the store and she picked him up, balancing him on the back of a chair as she talked to a man behind the counter. He remembers the man's voice booming across the whole store, his mother’s relieved face as she rushes forward and scoops Klavier up into her arms.

But most of all, he remembers how the nice lady smiled and told him he had a nice name. “Klavier Gavin? What a good name. A strong name. You’ll be a star one day, I just know it.”

Sometimes, he wonders if she remembers him. He did become a star, to some circles. Well, a lot of circles. It’s a very big circle. 

Childishly, he wonders if he cast a spell on him that day, destining him for greatness. More realistically, he realizes she was just one of the first of many to see that his name had star potential.

It rolls off the tongue nice and easy. Uncommon enough to be exciting, but not too hard to pronounce. It’s easy enough to chant, if you split up the syllables. It’s a part of him in ways last names aren’t to most people. Prosecutor Gavin, rock star, lead vocalist and guitarist Klavier Gavin of the Gavineers. 

He’s had stadiums of people screaming his name, but that’s never what comes to mind when he thinks about his name. He thinks of the woman in the supermarket, and he thinks of his great-aunt. She lived out in the countryside, so visits were rare.

“You should be proud to be a Gavin,” she’d murmur into his ear when he crawled up into her lap after dinner. But she never said it like his parents or Kristoph or his teachers did, she drew out the syllables, savoring every sound. Ga-veen,she’d say, rocking him back and forth.

It was a little strange, how he missed the way she said his name more than he missed her.

At the time, Klavier didn’t really know why he should be proud to be a Gavin. Instead of asking, he chose it for himself. No one in the band really cared that it was named after him, but that was probably just because none of them really knew how big it was going to get. They were just stupid kids who liked sitting in Klavier’s basement, writing stupid songs instead of doing their homework. 

It was enough for them to have all the girls swooning, but they didn’t protest when things got bigger. 

And then the trial against Herr Wright happened. Exposing the Turnabout Terror as a fraud in his first ever trial? Really, there was no better time to be Klavier Gavin. 

Mother and Father weren’t very happy about the country hopping right out of high school, but he couldn’t give less of a damn. Concerts one day and trials the next wasn’t a very sustainable lifestyle, but god was it fun. Defense attorneys around the world had grown to fear his name, dreaded the thought of losing against some kid who was fresh out of law school and slept on a tour bus.

Klavier made the name Gavin a worldwide sensation. It wasn’t until he came back home that he learned how Kristoph made it synonymous with “the best defense in the west.”

It was kind of annoying, how all the prosecutors and detectives gave him a strange look when he introduced himself. When he complained to Kris about it, he just rolled his eyes and snipped about how maybe if he prosecuted a few more cases in LA before he left, that wouldn’t be happening. He was right of course, Kristoph was always right, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t annoying as all hell.

The thought makes Klavier sick to his stomach now. It’s no wonder Kristoph got away with his lies for seven years, he was used to getting what he wanted— no matter the cost. Ruining a life or two, even killing a man was child's play to Kristoph. There wasn’t a worse time to be Klavier Gavin.

There were detectives in and out of his office multiple times a day, searching for any sign of foul play; he wasn’t getting cases anymore, the chief prosecutor too busy breathing down the back of his neck to assign any. Cleaning out Kristoph’s apartment was the worst part, though. His parents were there too, but they didn’t say much. Klavier caught his mother crying in the bathroom, clutching a picture frame to her chest. He let her be.

Even when he was in jail, Kristoph always seemed to have the last laugh. That much was obvious when Klavier ended up taking Vongole home with him, his parents refusing to take her when they learned it was what Kristoph wanted. Klavier wants to bitch about how what Kris wants doesn’t matter anymore, but he keeps his mouth shut. 

She’s not a bad dog, but she doesn't like him much. They’re more like roommates than anything else. It’s a little sad his closest friend is a dog that doesn’t even like him, but what else can he do? He hasn’t talked to the band since Daryan’s arrest and he doubts any of them would want to see his face right now. 

Klavier wonders if his ancestors would be proud of him. He remembers doing a project back in grade school about great-something grandparents of his, an astronomer and a psychologist. They did great things in a world that was so much harder to live in than his own and here he was, moping over not having any friends.

He also wonders what the world would be like if he didn’t listen to Kristoph all those years ago. Herr Wright would still be a defense attorney, though one without a daughter. Trucy would probably know nothing of the legal world, raised by a shifty uncle and an even shiftier father if he was even around. Vongole wouldn’t be sleeping on his bed downstairs, and definitely wouldn’t be named Vongole of all things.

Klavier doesn’t want to think about what he’d be like, but he does anyway. A lot happier is his best guess.

[pastrnaks-sainz]

I posted 985 times in 2022

320 posts created (32%)

665 posts reblogged (68%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@waggle100

@intoafandom

@chuckschippedchomper

@incredulouspasta

@krugstrash

I tagged 376 of my posts in 2022

#bruins lb - 203 posts

#boston bruins - 44 posts

#david pastrnak - 14 posts

#patrice bergeron - 10 posts

#jeremy swayman - 6 posts

#hampus lindholm - 5 posts

#brad marchand - 5 posts

#the boys won - 5 posts

#one shot - 4 posts

#nhl fluff - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 101 characters

#acting like he isn’t bouta turn around and crossscheck him in the head next time they play each other

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

this shirt makes me feel things

36 notes - Posted April 23, 2022

#4

Black Tie

Pairing: Connor McDavid x reader 

Type: Fluff 

Warnings: None 

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Every once in a while there was a black tie event hosted by the team that Connor had to attend. As a member of the Oilers organization you also had to attend. You and Connor both hated fake sipping champagne and talking to people you hardly knew. For the past two years that similarity drew you to each other. This year, though, had Connor feeling flirty. 

Request: Request #29 with Connor McDavid? 👉🏼👈🏼 (from anon) 

Fluff Prompt #29: “Who gave you permission to go out in public looking like that?”

~~~~

It was nearing the point in the evening when your social battery was dangerously close to zero. Like, blinking red about to be stranded in the middle of the ocean with no life preserver, dangerously close to zero. And if you knew Connor McDavid as well as you thought you did, his would be in the danger zone too. 

“That time of the night, Y/N?” Zach chirped as you walked past him. You shot him a look and playfully flipped him off as you continued on your way to what would become your safe corner for the night. You sat down and tried your best to look like you didn’t want to jump out the window. 

“I see the clock has struck midnight for the both of us,” the voice of your fellow introvert Connor McDavid had you genuinely smiling for the first time all night. 

“Thank god,” you sighed as he sat down at the table across from you, placing his drink down in front of him. “It looks like you lasted longer than me this year.” 

“I actually think we both tapped out at the same time,” Connor said, looking around for any sponsors he might have to hide from. “There are times I rethink my career choice and this is one of them.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed, making eye contact with him. Like always, your stomach fluttered. “This industry isn’t the best if you’re not an extrovert.” 

“I genuinely have no idea how Leon does it,” Connor said, looking over to see Leon Draisaitl in the middle of the room somehow managing three different conversations and one of them was in German. “Man is a god.” 

“He has to be,” you agreed, shaking your head in awe. “There is literally no other explanation.” 

Connor laughed and took a sip of his drink. He swallowed before turning his gaze onto you. Your cheeks heated up to the point you would have sworn your face was literally glowing. 

“So what was the conversation that did you in?” with his question the party around you seemed to melt away. 

“New camera equipment, believe it or not,” you answered. 

“Really?” Connor was surprised. “I thought you loved getting new gear?” 

“I do, believe me I do,” you worked for the Edmonton Oilers’ media department. Getting new gear before a season was like Christmas. “But there was just something about it tonight that I could not sit through.” 

“Business conversations are the worst,” Connor agreed. “I couldn’t even explain what the one I just abandoned was about. I think it was skate laces? I don’t even know.” 

“Who knew these black tie events could be so goddamn boring,” you said, eliciting a laugh from Connor. 

“Agreed.” 

Connor thought for a second before speaking again. He wasn’t sure if it was the amount of drinks he’d had at the party or if it was something else, but he had a little extra courage that had his threshold for stupidity so far up it was in danger of becoming part of the ballroom ceiling.

“Hey, wanna leave?” 

“I’m sorry?” you looked at him in shock. You had been to countless of events like these and ended up in this scenario countless of times before but not once had Connor proposed the idea of ditching. “I know you won’t get fired but I still have my job to worry about.” 

“Oh don’t worry about it,” Connor said as he stood up. Oh. He was serious. “If someone gives you a hard time just point them in my direction. I’ll say you were feeling sick and since I was with you you just asked me to take you home.” 

“Alright, I guess that’s believable enough,” you answered and took his hand, allowing him to help you up from your seat. 

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79 notes - Posted April 9, 2022

#3

500th

Pairing: David Pastrnak x reader 

Type: Smut 

Warnings: Oral (f+m receiving), fingering, swearing, protected sex, hair pulling kink, cockwarming 18+ ONLY 

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: You knew David was close to 500 career points, but you didn't expect him to reach that milestone in his first game back after being out for three weeks. The good mood he was in when he got home somehow became an even better mood when he saw you in nothing but a pair of heels and his jersey. 

Smut Prompt #8: “A beautiful sight, you wearing nothing but my jersey waiting for me”  Smut Prompt #15: “Pull my hair” 

A/N: I guess this is a part two to 200th. Also i am on my knees for pasta, literally would do anything for him

~~~~

David hummed to himself as he unlocked the apartment door and let himself in. He was in a good mood. His first game back after being injured against Detroit could not have gone better. He didn't expect to score the first goal of the game, but when you’re David Pastrnak anything can happen apparently. 

That anything can include coming home to seeing your girlfriend laying in the middle of your bed wearing nothing but a very sexy pair of heels and your jersey. David dropped his bag on the floor, his jaw hanging open. He shamelessly raked his eyes up and down your body. 

“What’s all this?” he asked once he found his voice. 

“You had a big game,” you responded in the best sultry voice you could muster. “I thought you deserved a little reward.” 

“A reward?” David hummed, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. He took a couple steps forward and knelt on the bed beside you. His finger tips lightly skimmed over your ankle. “A beautiful sight, you wearing nothing but my jersey waiting for me.” 

“I thought you might like it,” you responded, pushing yourself to sit up and meet his lips. David kissed you fervently. You moaned against him, hand coming to cup the back of his head and hold him in place. 

You used the leverage you had gained against him to flip him onto his back. 

“What’s all this?” he asked, tucking his arm behind his head and watching you get to work unbuttoning his pants. 

“You know how a milestone gets rewarded by now,” you smirked, pulling his pants and boxers down. His dick, hard and red, slapped against his stomach. David’s muscles tightened as the cool air of the room touched his tip. 

You licked your lips, practically able to see his dick throbbing with want. The man was insatiable, and you were fully prepared to have a long night. 

“Y/N, don’t just fucking look at it do something,” David’s voice was strangled.

“As you wish.” 

He moaned, loud and long as you licked a thick stripe up the underside of his dick along the vein. He gathered your hair in a ponytail and gripped it tight. You brought your mouth down on him, taking as much as you could. His moans were music to your ears as you bobbed your head up and down. You hollowed your cheeks every once in a while, making him moan a little louder each time. 

You knew David’s body so well that you could bring him to the edge and back three times before he started to get frustrated. And it wasn’t through his voice that you knew he was getting frustrated. It was when his hips would not stay still. He kept squirming, trying to find the right position in order to get some sort of relief. But every time he did you changed what you were doing. 

It wasn’t until he gripped your hair a little bit tighter that you finally took pity on him. You gripped the base of his dick and gave him short but firm squeezes and alternated between gently sucking his tip and giving him little kitten licks. David’s stomach tightened as he came. His eyes screwed shut and he let out a strangled moan. 

“Congratulations, baby,” your voice was hoarse as you crawled back up his body to whisper in his ear. 

“You are going to be the fucking death of me,” David all but growled. He kissed you passionately, his lips claiming you as his own. You whimpered and let him push you onto your back. His hands traced your sides before reaching the hem of the jersey. He lifted it over your hips 

“David,” you whimpered, snaking your hand into his hair as he lifted your legs onto his shoulders. You felt his breath on your dripping pussy before you felt his tongue. You jumped at the contact before allowing yourself to relax into his ministrations. 

He knew your body as well as you knew his. It made sex that much more pleasurable. You squirmed as he switched between licking and sucking your clit and blowing cool air on it. He threw his arm over your hips to keep you still. You moaned louder than you had since he started and tugged on your hair. 

David emitted a sound you’d never heard come from him before. He pulled away from your clit and looked up at you with dark, hooded eyes. 

“Pull my hair,” he commanded. You shuddered at the sound of his voice but gave the roots of his hair another yank nonetheless. His eyes rolled back and his muscles tightened. “Fuck.” 

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81 notes - Posted April 24, 2022

#2

Friend From College

Pairing: Jeremy Swayman x reader 

Type: Fluff 

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: Jeremy was quickly adopted by his new Bruins teammates. And that comes with being harassed by Brad Marchand and eventually Nick Foligno until you invite your closest friend down to Boston during Christmas break to meet your new teammates. 

Request: Can you do 4 and 43 from fluff with swayman thank you in advance (from anon)

Fluff Prompt #4: “Is that my sweatshirt?” Fluff Prompt #43: “Will you two just kiss already?”

~~~~

Jeremy took a deep breath before walking into the locker room. For the past weeks, ever since Nick Foligno had walked in on him on FaceTime with you, he had been harassed about when he was “going to introduce us to your girlfriend, Swayman?” He was going to need all the luck he could get being around the team whenever there was even half a moment of silence. 

“Good practice, Sway,” Patrice greeted him with a nod. Jeremy’s shoulders relaxed. Bergy was one of the only ones to not give him a hard time. Although he didn’t exactly take steps to stop the heckling whenever it started. 

“Thanks,” Jeremy returned the greeting, taking a sip of his Dunkin coffee. 

“Oh, hey, I have an extra ticket to the game tomorrow if you want it, Stephanie said she’d reserve the seat beside her,” Bergy said before leaving. 

“Oh, sure,” Jeremy smiled. “Thanks, Cap.” 

“No problem,” Patrice gave Sway a subtle wink before walking out to the equipment room. 

Jeremy groaned. He knew exactly who Patrice wanted him to give that ticket to. But you were still in Maine with your family, you wouldn’t want to make that drive all the way down to Boston just for a hockey game. But then again, it was worth at least giving you a call, right? 

“If I don’t call her they’re never going to let me forget it,” he sighed and picked up his phone, knowing that if one of the friends he’d made in Boston showed up tomorrow night with that ticket he would never live it down. He was pretty sure their next steps were going to be going through his phone, finding your number, calling you themselves, and telling you they thought Jeremy liked you. And he could never live with himself if that happened. 

“Y/N! Your phone is ringing!” your little cousin yelled from the basement. You downed the rest of the drink in your glass before jogging down the stairs. 

“Hello?” you answered, not even bothering to glance at the caller ID. 

“Y/N!” Jeremy’s cheery voice was on the other end of the line. You smiled to yourself as you stepped into the toy closet to get away from the noise your younger family members were making. 

“Thank god you called me,” you sighed. “I’m hiding from the kids. You gotta get me outta here, Jeremy.” 

Jeremy’s chest warmed. 

“Well lucky for you Bergy just offered me a ticket for the game tomorrow night if you want to come down,” he said, applauding himself for the smooth offer. He knew, though, that if any one of the guys walked in he would instantly crumble. 

“Oh my god, please,” you were relieved. “I’m gonna drive down right now. Jeremy you have no idea how happy I am to get out of this reunion.” 

“Anything for you, Y/N,” he said. “Let me know when you’re thirty minutes out. You can just come straight to my apartment, I’ll send you the address.” 

“You’re a legend, Sway,” you said before hanging up and walking back up stairs. 

“Who was that sweetie?” your mom asked as you reached for your keys. 

“Jeremy,” you responded. “He invited me to the game tomorrow night. I’m gonna drive down this afternoon. I should be at his place by like eight. I’ll be back here on Monday.” 

“Have fun!” she told you as you walked out the door, knowing you were going to take any escape you could to get away from the extended family in town for the weekend no matter what she said. 

Jeremy was thankful that his mom forced him to buy one extra set of sheets than he thought he needed when he got home after practice. He was also thankful for his real estate agent for persuading him to get an apartment with a guest room. He set up the guest room before settling down on the couch. 

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84 notes - Posted March 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Bloodied and Bruised

Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk x reader 

Type: Fluff 

Warnings: Injury 

Summary: Matthew wasn’t usually accident prone, but this morning’s practice had him beat up in more than one way. He’d taken a puck to the knee, causing him to limp for the rest of the day. And he’d gotten an accidental high stick to the face, causing a small but nasty cut just above his eyebrow. You knew it was bothering him more than usual after he begged you to stay with him. 

Request: Hi can you write a Matthew Tkachuk imagine with the prompts 37 and 63 from your list where he had a rough practice and gets injured and you help bandage him up. You want to be there for him even though he usually keeps to himself but this time he needs comfort from his girlfriend with some cuddling please. Thank you! (from anon) 

Fluff Prompt #37: “Quit being such a baby and let me put a new Band-Aid on your face” Fluff Prompt #63: “Can you- do you want to- please stay with me, I don’t want to be alone”

~~~~

The front door creaked, announcing Matt’s arrival home from practice. You grinned and hastily wiped your hands on the towel you had over your shoulder before tossing it down to the island. When you saw Matt standing at the end of the hallway, shoulders slumped and head down, you knew something was wrong. 

“Matty, baby,” you hummed, brows furrowing in concern as you walked up to him. “What happened?” 

“Got a little banged up,” he mumbled. You cupped your hand around his jaw and moved his head so you could get a close look at the cut above his eyebrow. A small white Band-Aid was overing it, but a few drops of blood had already seeped through it. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” you wrapped your arms around his waist, expecting him to push you away like he always did when he was injured. But instead he melted into you, letting his head droop to your shoulder and his hands resting lightly on your hips. You knew the injury was bothering him. 

“You’re really warm,” he said, his voice muffled by your hoodie. 

“Come on, baby,” you took his hand and pulled him down the hallway to your bedroom. He followed like a puppy dog. You sat him down on the edge of the bed and went to retrieve the first-aid kit from where you’d stashed it under the sink. 

“What are you doing?” he asked as he watched you open it and pull out a package of Band-Aids. 

“Changing that Band-Aid,” you answered, flicking your eyes up to his cut. “There’s blood coming through it, if you keep it on it’ll get infected.” 

Matt pouted up at you. 

“Quit being such a baby and let me put a new Band-Aid on your face,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. Matt smirked and kept his eyes on you as you carefully peeled off the white Band-Aid and replaced it with one of the new ones. 

“All better?” he asked. 

“All better,” you nodded and placed a gentle kiss over the Band-Aid. 

You turned around, ready to head back to the kitchen to finish making the mac n’ cheese you had started, when Matt’s hand latched around your wrist. You turned around, eyebrow raised in question. 

“Can you- do you want to- please stay with me, I don’t want to be alone,” he muttered, hanging his head. Your heart panged. There must have been something more to his injuries acquired at practice that a cut over his eye. 

“Did something else happen?” you asked, sitting down on the bed beside him. 

“It’s nothing,” he tried shrugging it off. “I just took a puck to the knee, that’s all. It’s not a big deal.” 

You watched as he pulled up the leg of the shorts he was wearing. An ugly purple bruise was starting to get darker. 

“I’m gonna go get you an ice pack,” you said, leaving before he got the chance to protest. When you got back you found his curled up in bed, cuddling a pillow. 

A smile shadowed your lips as you placed the ice pack on the bruise that was slowly forming on his left knee. The second Matt felt you near him he tossed aside the pillow and wrapped his arms around you instead. 

Matty was usually like a porcupine when he was injured, never wanting people around him. You had no idea what caused this change in him but you liked it and you didn’t want it to go back to the way it was. He almost never let you play with his curls but now he was humming in contentment as you raked your fingers through his hair and twisted the curls around your fingers. 

276 notes - Posted February 5, 2022

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[sleepy-achilles]

The Family of Destruction- Crashes

My sister and I were talking about the likely hood of me getting into a motorcycle crash after I admitted I'm going to learn to drive a car then a bike. And well two of the family of destruction ride bikes so yeah.

-----

Taker had to admit he was scared. He had too much to lose now. So as his body was thrown across the stoney road he found himself whispering a little pray to whoever will listen. He's lucky enough to come to a stop against a soft patch of grass. He groans quietly, lifting his head to see his bike wrapped around a tree.

"Fuck.." he groans. As if Shawn needs more of a reason to hate his riding. Taker pulls himself up, he's just got a few scratches and cuts. It definitely could of been worse. He pulls his helmet off, something he never used to wear before shawn. Shawn truly is his guardian angel. He frowns. He cannot call Shawn, shawn will freak. He moves closer to his bike and kicks it lightly. "Yep. That's stuck.." he sighs. He'll have to come back for it when he's got kane. He looks towards the Manor. He was almost home aswell. He can see the lights on. He sighs as he picks his bag up and begins his treck down the road towards home.

-

"Honey, I'm home!" Taker calls. He's immediately greeted by their German shepherd who doesn't jump at him, instead pauses and gives a confused barks. "Weird, I didn't hear your bi...Jesus taker!" Shawn gasps as he walks in. "Im fine..just a few scratches." Taker huffs dropping his scratched and dented helmet and bag. "Come here buddy" he murmurs holding his hands out. Shawn passes the small toddler over and moves to look outside. "Wheres the bike?" Shawn asks as Taker hugs Leon. "Wrapped around a tree. I'll have kane help me get it tomorrow." Taker murmurs. Shawn turns to him shocked. "Taker! A tree!" Shawn gasps. "Metal can be replaced Shawn. It's fine." Taker sighs pulling Shawn into a hug. "This cannot." Taker adds. Leon just stares at his father with a blank face.

He was enjoying his bear shaped cookies when his Papa pulled him away to greet the old man. "Promise me you'll be safer or just never ride alone again" Shawn whispers. "Ill be safer. I promise. Not leaving you two again" Taker murmurs kissing Leon's head before shawns. "Ill get kane to summon you so I can kill you myself" Shawn threatens. Taker chuckles. "Mmm I know. Now, I need a bath..." Taker sighs. "Good, because so does lee" Shawn smirks. "Awe cmon I was on bathing duty last time-" "you just got into a crash and didn't call me, damn right your doing it again!" Shawn scolds. "Fair point baby." Taker winces. "Go, I'll cook dinner" Shawn smiles. Taker just nods and pulls back, his eyes not leaving his young boys face.

--Present--

Leon wasn't happy when it started raining. He was even less happy that it was raining heavily. The weather forecasts said it'd be sunny and it was when him and drew got on the bike. Drew was excited about getting to ride the bike to the arena. Normally they took the bus and Leon used his dad's old entrance bike in the arena. Leon tended to ride the older bikes with drew. But Leon saw a Honda and insisted on buying it at the last show. So the boys have been riding around on it for the past few days.

Leon wouldn't forgive himself if drew got hurt, especially with drew putting all his trust in Leon.

So when the bike starts to shake, Leon swears he can feel his heart race. And then the wheel slips and the bike is falling. Leon can't bring himself to panic as the bike slides away from them, all he can think about is keeping drew safe. So as he turns his head slightly, he spots drew still sliding but going the opposite way. He reaches out quickly, grabbing the other man and pulling him between his legs. Leon let's out a huff as drews helmet his his chest. But he can't bring himself to worry about his own safety, not when he has drew with him. Drews hands are frantic as they grab Leon's legs.

Leon doesn't know if he can stop them safely. Not that it matters, they soon stop when Leon's back crashes into a barrier. Leon gasps as the air is forced from his body and his vision goes black.

He's fucked up this time.

-

"Wheres drew and Leon!" Vince barks. "What do you mean? They should be here" sheamus states. Taker looks up from what hunter is showing him. "Didnt they ride the bus with you lot?" Shawn asks. "No, Leon brought a new bike, they've been riding that everywhere." Cassie states. Takers eyes widen slightly. "Whats the weather?" Hunter asks. "It was sunny when they left, it started raining as we arrived." Sheamus admits. Shawn looks at taker. "Call them both. I'll try connecting to leon" Taker orders. Shawn nods and grabs his phone. Taker closes his eyes and immediately panics. He can't sense either man.

"No.." he whispers.

-

Leon groans quietly. "He-----ok---" a voice cuts in. Leon's hand clench around drews arms as he opens his eyes. A group of people surround them. "D..drew" Leon chokes. "Hes---" the voice keeps cutting out. That's when a car speeds past and Leon's senses kick back in. "Drew" he gasps flipping his cracked visor up. He looks to see drew against him. "Hes breathing" the women above him states. "But you both need to stay still" a man states. "No, I'm fine" Leon groans as he shifts drew to lay down. Leon pulls his helmet off and throws it to the ground, he has to buy a new one anyways. He flips drews visor up, knowing better than to take the mans helmet off. "Drew? Darling?" Leon tries. Drew groans, his eyes moving rapidly behind his eyelids.

"M'kay" drew mutters. "Open your eyes for me" Leon orders softly. Drews eyes slowly open. "You hurt?" Leon asks. "No..no..just winded..." drew huffs. "Does your head hurt?" Leon asks. "No..no" drew sighs sitting up. Leon helps him take his helmet off and begins checking drew over. Drews seems fine and Leon silently thanks whoever made their protective riding gear for that. "Shit lee" drew gasps cupping his head. "What?" Leon asks. His face feels wet but its just rain. "Your bleeding" drew states. Leon glances back at his visor. The massive crack in it. "Is it glass or stone?" Leon asks looking back at drew. "Stone by the looks" drew admits holding Leon's head still.

"Ill be fine. Can't feel it anyways" Leon admits. "Just..try brush it out.." Leon tells him. Drew nods and carefully brushes over the cut with his thumb. The stone falls out after a few tries and drew immediately presses a cloth that one of the civilians handed them against it. Leon frowns. Is he gonna have a stupid eyebrow scar now? Lucky for Leon it was the opposite one to where his already massive scar cut through his eyebrow. "Our phones?" Leon asks. A women hands their bags over. Leon fishes his phone out. Slightly cracked but still working.

Papa is calling.

"Pa?"

"Oh my god, Leon! Your father couldn't feel you! Are you alright?!" Shawn gasps. "Yes papa..just a small accident." Leon sighs resting his free hand on drews bicep. "How bad?" Shawn asks. "Drews fine, just winded and probably gonna bruise like a bitch, same for me, plus a small cut in my eyebrow." Leon answers. "Okay, send me what hosptial you end up in alright? Because you are going to a hosptial." Shawn tells him. "I know.. drew wouldn't have it any other way." Leon chuckles. His eyes land on his bike and whatever he was feeling in his chest, stops.

"Leon?" Shawn asks. "My bike.." he whispers. Drew turns to look and frowns. "Its just metal, that can be replaced, you and drew cannot." Shawn tells him.

"Pa..its wrapped around a tree..."

Shawn looks at taker. Takers eyes widen slightly. "A tree?" Shawn asks. "Yeah...God its gonna cost a fortune to get that back home.." Leon sighs. Taker feels his heart race slightly. "Just..just get yourself to the hosptial. We will meet you there." Shawn tells him. "Alright. Love you Pa." Leon mutters. "Love you too Peach." Shawn sighs as the phone hangs up. "Its just a coincidence.." Shawn tells him. "What?" Cassie asks from sheamus hold. "When Leon was a baby, I got in a bike accident on my way home. My bike ended up wrapped around a tree." Taker explains. He turns his focus to shawn. "When has anything in mine or Leon's life been a coincidence-" "no. You are not doing this. Leon will push people away and him and drew are so damn happy. No." Shawn warns standing up. He looks at cassie. "Stay here and do your match. Me and dad will phone you if anything is more serious than Leon let on" Shawn orders. She nods. "Ill drive you both." Hunter states snatching the keys from Shawn. "Im not letting taker drive, he's bascially in shock and you can barely drive normally never mind in mother hen mode" hunter snaps. "Fine. Cmon" Shawn sighs.

--

Leon is sat, dangling his feet off the edge of a hosptial bed with drew when the trio walk in. "Thank god" Shawn sighs hugging both boys. "Nice stitch" hunter states. "I told them it's pointless, one single stitch." Leon huffs pulling his scratched motocross jacket on. "Its better than bleeding everywhere" drew huffs as he continues doing his boots up. "So what did the doctors say?" Taker asks moving closer. "We might bruise, especially his back. That we are lucky we had such strong gear and that we are luckily not concussed" drew answers.

Taker shocks them all by putting a shakey hand on drews shoulder. "Im glad your both okay. And if either of you pull a stunt like this ever again I'll kill you both" he warns. Drew smiles. "Thanks takes." "Thanks dad.

[katb357]

Falling for Hogan’s Heroes

5. Rainstorm

Leaks

Hogan could barely think over the noise. Plink, plink, plink, plonk! There was a pot on the floor in the corner and another one on his desk catching raindrops. Every time one of them filled up, he would open his window and dump it outside. Of course, he had to time opening the window with the searchlight pattern, as open windows were strictly against orders, but leaky roofs should have been against orders too, as far as the senior POW was concerned. And Barracks Two’s roof was full of holes. The sound in his office currently reminded him of Chinese Water Torture.

Hogan had been badgering Klink about the problem ever since late summer, when it would have been logical to start fixing them, but as usual, the commandant had dragged his feet. What had been five or six leaks in the old roof last winter had turned into over a dozen leaks this winter. The storm that had swept through the camp earlier this morning had lingered and it was a big one… a lot of rain and cold wind. 

The roof had lost even more shingles…which meant even more leaks. LeBeau had once again threatened to go up on the roof and fix the leaks himself, but the others reminded him what had happened last time when he fell off and wound up having to pretend to be a gypsy and psychic for Klink. He considered the memory, and thought better of the idea. 

The men were kept busy procuring and placing pots and containers of all sorts all over the barracks trying to keep up with the leaks. Carter even pitched in some of his lab beakers to help out. Olsen drew the line when someone tried to enlist his shoes for the job, on the grounds that he was going outside the wire in a few hours and would be getting them plenty wet enough on his own, thank you very much.

Newkirk kept busy swiping containers from the Chow Hall and the Rec Hall. Fortunately, he had found a fairly serviceable rain cape amongst the clothing they kept in the tunnels, so he was only a partially drowned rat. Besides helping to keep him somewhat dry, the advantage to the cape was that it provided plenty of places to hide the booty. (And any bits of food he filched along the way as well.)

Hogan came out of his quarters to see how the men were getting along, only to find the main room a hive of activity. He bristled at the ridiculousness of the situation. “I’m going over to talk to Klink about this right now!” And heedless of the pouring rain, he headed out the door and to the Kommandantur.

Hogan stomped into the outer office, dripping rainwater everywhere. Hilda’s eyes were wide, and she smiled at him. “You’ll catch a cold running around in weather like this!” she chided him playfully.

He took off his cap and ran his fingers through his hair. He smiled back. “Is he in?”

“He is.”

Hogan nodded and walked through the door without knocking as per his usual M.O. 

Klink looked up, only mildly surprised. “Hogan, you’re dripping on my floor. Get out of here.”

“Commandant, you need to do something about this rain. The roof is leaking all over the place.”

Klink stared at him. “I can’t stop the rain.”

Hogan widened his eyes as if in shock. “You mean there’s something the Germans can’t do?”

Klink shook his fist at Hogan. “You are impossible!”

“Well, I know something you can do.”

Warily, Klink asked, “And what is that?”

“Allow Schultz to supervise a workday the next time it’s clear so we can cut down more wood to make shingles for our roof. We have several men who know how. That way we can stop the leaks ourselves.”

“Not Schultz alone. Deitz will stand with him. I want no funny business.”

“Agreed.”

Just to mess with him, Hogan picked up the pickelhaube that had pride of place on Klink’s desk. “Can I borrow this?’

“What? No! What for?”

Hogan grinned. “I need another container for catching the rain…”

Klink turned purple and grabbed the precious helmet. His finger stabbed the air towards the door. “HOGAAAAN! GET. OUT!”

The End

[distantmachine]

What happened to us on Monday☁️

It’s funny because I dream of graduating every year before this year. Truthfully, I love school and don’t want to graduate any time soon, but I also wish I had graduated with these people. Yesterday, I watched all these people I used to sit in class walk across that stage. A part of me wished I was there too. I watched them becoming an alumni and we no longer share the same status. I was way up there, trying and using every inch of my energy, waving at them, trying to show how excited I was and how proud I was. I watched them walk ever so proudly, and I didn’t know the ceremony was such an emotional space. I cried.

I used to hate school. I felt like the dumbest person in class by listening to others talk so I never really did until this year. I met one person who I constantly and consistently rely on throughout the years of being in this department. I wouldn’t have survived German cinema without her, truthfully. I will never forget the past three years with Jordan. All the times when She decided it would be a good idea for me to walk halfway home and then take the bus so I could walk with her through winter, spring, and once in the summer. I complain too much every time, but I do it anyway. One day in, I'd say, January, we were gonna study together but ended up talking about what’s going on in each other's lives.

I have met so many beautiful, genuine people here and there. None of us were close, but it took one class to break the shell. (Auteur Theory)

When I tell you that this program has the most wholesome people, I’m really not kidding. Nat kindly drove me home (Vancouver) from Seattle when I almost got stranded. Evan invited our debate groups for a beer after our heated debate, even though they lost. Mickey invited the class to the Gallery after the last debate to celebrate. Adriana telling me that everything will be fine after they graduate. Asking each other to go to the theatre after the semester ended, going to dinner with a bunch of people who have shared so little life together, some only shared bits of their lives in RBC. That brunch Claudia could never make it to.

As Jordan said in the cute little letter she drew me, we became a little family in our program.

These people made me love film again. Not that I didn’t before, but I didn’t know what I was looking for in a film. I still don’t, but films are becoming poetic for me. I enjoyed all the poetic moments we shared together before, during, and after the movie ended.

Sitting in the chairs that break our backs and bones became more bearable.

All of us always complained about RBC, but when I had the last class there with them, I realized that this space holds more memories than I thought. I can tell u which chair squeaks, which table I accidentally broke, and the table that’s too small for our jacket, coffee, water bottle and laptop. I can tell you where Jordan and I sat every class and how we randomly ended up loving the front in cult cinema or that one time I accidentally kicked my water bottle, and it rolled all the way down to the front during an emotional scene in Moonlight. I can tell you how much noise we made in our corner watching Oldboy and how Angie jumped out of her seat. I can also tell you we were Christine’s favourite class. I can tell you that one time, Fernando and I finished a film production project right before it was due, and I was hungover. I can also tell you how we all never used to sit together in a screening, but we did on the last day of class. Even Aadi eventually sat with us, too.

Not just RBC but Buchanan as well. I went back there for a summer course, and all I could think about was what I’d do to have one more Auteur theory class and laugh at the drawings on the whiteboards. Also the main mall, that’s how Jordan and I became friends. We never knew the shortcut from Buchanan D to Swing Space, and Megan always made it to class way before we did. The countless grey days I would follow Claudia’s backpack to school back in second year before we actually had a conversation together.

I wonder what would happen in September when I go back there without them. Would the cute granny from the sandwich bar still remember me? Would I secretly cry in the bathroom because it’s too hard to go back to that room without Jordan? Would I be the only person who's scared of horror movies now?

I know I’ll be fine but maybe just maybe in another life,

We can all sit together again.

[acecasinova]

4 and 9 for Lazarus!!

Your character has to give a ten-minute speech on a subject of their choice to a room full of experts. What subject do they choose?

Well.... Lazarus could PROBABLY spend ten minutes talking about the best parts of various animals to eat. (Provided you are a vampire and do not want it cooked) He certainly knows the most bloody or iron rich organs or areas, and could probably tell them for a human too (or just describe ripping out a throat) even if he prefers just blood.

(Alternatively he could HORRIFICALLY incorrectly describe sex for ten minutes and leave experts absolutely in shock about it)

Your character has been invited to a prestigious formal event. What do they wear? What do they do when they get there?

Well THAT would be a nightmare lol~ Last time he had to go somewhere somewhat nice, the paladin had to physically CATCH him and hold him in the water trough outside to bathe him. (Lazarus WILL clean himself, but he prefers to do so when shapechanged as a wolf, and he likes keeping his humanoid form as grungy and scrunky as possible so people will avoid him and hopefully not expect anything from him)

Nice clothes are expensive and Lazarus does not participate in the economy, so he'd probably wear the same ones as before, or steal something. (I can't actually find the one picture I drew of Laz in fancy clothes, alas!) It would be something with embroidery, simple construction and easy to move in. But he would HATE being there. Lazarus would absolutely keep to the fringes of the event if he couldn't outright ditch early- social events are REALLY not his thing and he probably can't even eat there so what's the point?

Laz at a formal event is very much like.... a German Shepard with a "NERVOUS" vest on. Pacing, anxious energy, waiting for someone to just tell him he can go lol

[whispersnightcinema]

April

So much so much has happened, I'm very sad and frustrated I feel so selfish for hurting him, I don't want to let him go even if it's best for us both.

I guess I'm just not meant for relationships, we are on a no contact break, and it's killing me every day to not hear from him or get even a text, the only thing I could only contact him with is for important things, today I've been going back and forth, thinking so much, if we were meant to be together forever... should I just be non selfish and just let him go like he wanted? But we're still togther. .

Apart of me feels like he's been talking to someone else, he's asked me so many times on the phone if I was speaking to other men, I kept saying no. He has no more trust in me and needs time to process the hurt that I've caused him.

Like why did I hurt the one I love the most forever in my life... I'm so sad , so fucking sad and I'm trying my very best to be happy somehow , happy that he's still in my life but just a ghost that haunts my thoughts.... this is terrible I hate being a romantic and half of me just wants to say fuck the rest and just do me And not think about anyone else again, sigh. . .. why must it be that I'm so toxic to myself, I've sabotage everything I've ever dreamed of.... now I'm in a real nightmare of feeling so aweful and selfish in so many ways.

I want to believe in us, I really do ... I just can't deal with no contact. Maybe if I trick myself and get lost in my head for a while. I might beable to handle it. But I just can't!!!

I'm so tired of not being happy. I do my best to show everyone else that I'm happy but truly deep within my heart.... I've caused myself so much pain that I've found a new formula to mask it all...

Gym. Music. Cannabis. Social media.

So many distractions, yet I can't stop g about how much I love and miss him, all I think about is the happy memories.. . I'm so afraid that the last good memory will be when we were in Texas and I sang happy birthday to him and he pretended to blow out the candles and made a wish. I fed him his first bite of the chocolate gannach German cake! Or when he drew a nice bath fit me and we both took a bath and just caressed each other. Fuck I miss him so much. I feel so incomplete *tears.*

Writing this makes me so weak, I hate crying.

My heart misses him. My mind... my fucking mind is telling me to not give up! I feel like giving up every night as I stare into the silence,loud silence without hearing his voice before bed. The I love you, sweet dreams and good nights .... I NEED THAT TO SLEEP. Now all I do is lose sleep, I'm restless, I have to detach, I took 12 steps back into improving myself, taking certain parts of me and fixing in new ones... tuning to myself is this formula thing you work?! I'll never know unless I try this challenge for myself.. I hate that I try to forget him, too erase him from my daydreams... this has been one of the most common challenges I face in life.

I'm use to feeling hurt in the end ebb if I caused it or they did. The feelings are always the same, then you heal, then you move forward in life and not ever open your heart to anyone ever again ... absolutely not! And it will be so sad for them to know that I will never feel those strong feelings ever again for anyone. If I catch myself falling for anther I will escape them, because I never choose them and they'll never give me this undiscribable feeling that I get when I'm with him... never in my fucking life have I ever felt this crazy high from anyone, I think I'm crazy for feeling this way sometimes.

I don't want to let him go, he isn't going anywhere, I belong to him and he belongs to me... I got he feels that way (I'm being selfish, you can't force anyone to stay) I'm just so crazy over him, I miss giving him kisses and just loving him physically, like I can't keep my hands off of him when he's around. ..

I love his eye color, his beautiful lashes, ughhh his handsome face!! I hate this cage around us, the distance. . . Universe please can I once just have my dream back, I want to go to sleep. I've learned my lesson, I'm better now, I'm doing my very best and my hands are bleeding. I don't want to close my eyes in this nightmare anymore... I rather feel empty, I wish I was a robot.

He knows that this is going to be my last and only relationship, ever! If we don't make it to forever then I'll continue being the fetish that I am to others. That will fall for me and cherish me and adore me, spoil me and love me. As they're Asian babydoll luxury pet. Yet I'll never love them back like how much I love my person that I choose to love and give my all to the best way that I could.

Sigh*... I hope he misses me and still thinks of me and about us, living and doing life together. I don't think I can ever love somone like this ever again...

I'm so afraid... so afraid.