#it’s really sad bc some of these people are young

[aquanutart]

When she was a little Kiko, Lulu loved to put on ribbons and appear before the world to show her precious Slorg! Sadly her owner was such a recluse that nobody noticed much, and over the years she forgot performing for others...

Until recently she found all the ribbons she saved over the years and wanted to have fun again!

(She didn't know which ribbon to wear, so she is wearing them all!)

(Lulu won a trophy!!! She is absolutely delighted and is using it to store her ribbons!)

#neopets #neoart #kiko #slorg #lulu #aquanutart #sorry to repost this! i really wanted to tell the story but i was kind of nervous to mention the bc (this is NOT in any current contest!) #so this is a little picture i made last year now that she is pink! #when i was 11-ish i used to enter her in the beauty contest with tiny pixel scribbles #in some of them she was pink and wearing a hairbow (although there were no wearables back then) #the filesize limit back then was something like 19kb so i shrank them down to like 150x150px #(i didn't know any other way to reduce the filesize) i was too young to use the boards and didn't do any advertising at all #i would check back excitedly every week and be disappointed to not get a trophy but then make a very similar scribble and enter again #finally one time she won a third place trophy because i think only three kikos were entered that week #i felt complete after that #it was always her dream to be pink and show people her slorg #so last year after all this time i entered again because i realized it gives me motivation to draw my own pets #that i otherwise don't really draw and i felt kind of sad people don't really know them #i don't like competition so i decided i was just going to treat it as a chill social event and not bother trying to win #just treat it as the way of posting or sharing content on the site itself #it was fun and social! as someone who's pretty reclusive it was fun feeling like i was getting to know other pets #everyone was super nice and the supportive community feeling between artists was really fun! love getting excited about each other's work!! #since then i've entered a few more times and i have mixed feelings about it because i get absolutely exhausted from it #because unfortunately the competition aspect does take hold of me even when i don't want it to rofl. i feel like i have to try my hardest #if it were just an art competition i probably wouldn't enter but because it's mostly a social competition i spend hours on the chat #it's a massive burst of socialization for a week and then afterwards i disappear and don't reply to messages for. months rofl #it's fun to do once in a while but i can't handle it too often. but i am happy to end up with more pictures of my pets #she has a few trophies now and can put a ribbon in each one!

[llycaons]

when 15 year old lwj said "I'm used to being alone" he meant that his solitary and cold and duty-driven existence, cut off from his peers because of his reputation and his reserve, had become so familiar to him that he was resigned to this was how it would be for the rest of his life until wwx crashed in and saw him and talked to him and learned about him and drew something his loved and and made a oath with him about something they both cared about and despite appearances lwj is a deeply sensitive and emotional and passionate person who responded immediately - of course nothing was the same after that day! do you get it? do you get it?

#anyway this was also me in high school #cut to me sobbing going 'he has big feelings!' #he is also STILL mourning his mama :( #but umm the level of like autistic solidarity feel for young lwj is. insane #can't connect with peers very well. not socially very easy. best friend is your brother #I don't think he was unhappy in CR but his life was so repetetive and restricted I feel like it must have felt deadened in some ways #and in comes this kid who like. is like nothing he's ever seen before and appears to really like him #being head over heels age 15 totally understandable. and I don't think his devotion is just bc he's do deeply in love #I think it's also a natural consequence of his personality #this is also why wen ning being loyal to and past death makes sense to me #if people treat you like garbage of course you're going to attach yourself to the one person who's cool to you and genuinely admires you #MAN the way ppl treat wn makes me so sad. love him #cql txp

[nopeferatu]

i always feel so alienated when i see ppl talk abt the overrepresentation of tragedies within queer media and stuff bc while i do understand where ppl are coming from, i just enjoy consuming sad media in general lol so i cant truly relate to the frustration of not getting to see happy things.

and this isnt even me being critical of that argument bc i 100000% understand where it comes from, i 1000000% think its valid, studies have shown that queer people need positive representation to not feel so hopeless for their futures and stuff so like. i get it. i just like sad shit man! and i dont think we should stop having popular sad gay narratives altogether just bc of oversaturation.

i think its a hard convo to have bc we realize how rare the opportunity for mainstream gay media comes about and so i get that people don't want the "uber mainstream gay media" that happens twice a decade to be a tragic sad fest like they all are but i think maybe the answer is. we either need to change hollywood which is basically impossible OR we just like, stop looking to big hollywood studios for representation and start giving our money to independent studios who are making a lot of stories w queer ppl at the helm and stuff. because if we have a lot of different shows and films that involve queer people, then it wont matter if some of them are tragedies, and maybe then we can finally stop throwing groundbreaking queer media of our past under the bus and/or advocating for the death of queer tragedies when there are very much queers out there who love tragedies <- like me.

#the brokeback brainworms led me down some rabbitholes and im like grrrrrrr #me on the outside: youre allowed not to like the media i love bc we all have different tastes #me on the inside: *killing u with my mind* #i also just think the crit can be a little insensitive to the people who do see themselves represented by queer tragedies #like you guys do not know the depth of how much brokeback mountain affected ppl. like you probably have an idea but it runs fucking DEEP #and also i think that seeing young generations shit on queer tragedies of the past is kind of like a man yells at brick wall sit bc #the media already exists and you cant change it and they came out at times that were very different in terms of social acceptance of gays #so like idk. also in general im just a big advocate for trying to meet a piece of media halfway and judge its success based on what it was #trying to do within the context it was created in and like this goes for all movies not just gay movies and i think taking that approach #can make ppl better critics #but also i mean youre allowed to just not wanna get involved w sad media. esp sad gay media. i know a lot of ppl who are rly sensitive to #sad shit and thats totally fine. theres just ppl out there who are sensitive to sad shit in the opposite way in that we love it and it #consumes us and drives us to make changes in our lives for the better and so i would hate to see sad gays go away #in the end the true villain was the hayes code all along #like if they didnt make it a mandatory thing that gay people needed to fucking die in order to be represented at all we wouldnt #be having these conversations and youd let me fuck off to my mountain to get my back broken in a really sad way

[faultsofyouth]

You Must Learn To Let Go

#my posts #atla #'letting go' what does that mean? in the end it is about a very old story. in the end it is about death. about loss #ok i really should delete the atla tag this has nothing to do with avatar but its what the guru says in season 2!! #and i think its so well done bc this is death for children. this is How To Cope With Grief for children #but u cant Talk about death on a kids show and you cant Explain seperation and emotional decay to Children #but u can build a foundation 4 them. kids will see that episode and wonder 'why did aang have to let go? why Is it a good thing to let go?' #and they will go years and years and not understand but then they will. everyone will understand loss sooner or later #to be able to let go of that Attachment- that Need for another person- is the only way to move on #the only way to heal and live some sort of happy life after the really important things are gone forever #theres no way to explain that to a child but i think its good for people to start thinking about death young tbh #it shouldnt be a surprise. i was very sad when i learned about death for the first time #but its important. its an inevitable sadness. people should be able to face it. no one should be blindsided by it

[tinylittlebab]

maybe when im skinny ill somehow magically have friends somehow. idk how me having friends would change the fact i dont know or meet people but i bet it will fix all my problems

#idk. ive been told be people im attractive idk why. i think i look disgusting :/ but when im really skinny maybe people will think im #pretty enough to talk to and i can make friends that way. idk. im not sure where id even meet people. hmmm. well id be willing to do some #bad ideas if it meant i had people to talk to. tbh im just thinking i wanna meet ANYONE and maybe even if i dont like them i can meet other #people through them and it will work out. idk. i wish i were closer to drinking age so i could go to bars and maybe meet people there #idk. id just like to meet people somehow. im so lonely. i never got to meet people in school bc ive literally never been to school :/ #im one if 6 kids and im the only one who never got put in school. by the time my parents started homeschooling i was too young to have #gone to school yet and by the time my mom finally realized it was a mistake i was too old. i was 17 by the time my younger siblings were #put in school and it was too late for me. it feels bad that im leaving my childhood behind before im even 18. my older siblings spent years #still essentially being kids before they moved out and my one sister is gonna move back in soon. they had it rough too but i just wish i #couldve spent awhile still being a kid. i didnt get to spend any of my teenage years being a kid and ill be 18 in june #:( i miss having friends. my sister is great and all but its just different. i hope i can meet people somehow but i juat dont know #it makes me so sad tho think about how i lost all my friends when i was 10 and the only one ive made since has been my older sister #im just so lonely. everything sucks. maybe ill do that dangerous bad idea that might result in me meeting people even uf they suck #maybe not. i think maybe i dont wanna but i might be desperate enough.

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Puncture - LN

Sidenote: I think I just write about crashes when I'm sad bc...they're really sad irl and it's easy to write about something that is already a sad event. HOWEVER, following this up, I do have another Lando fic which is kind of more endearingly sad and sweet.

Summary: A midrace red flag is always cause for concern. But when Lando finds out who's behind the red flag and they won't show footage because they don't know she's ok, he won't get back in the car till he gets answers

Themes/warning: Race crash, injuries from crash (think Alonso Australia 2016-ish)

Aston Martin driver!reader x Lando

Some might frown upon drivers dating, but Lando and y/n's relationship spans longer than their time in F1 and neither have any intention of ending the relationship because of their differing teams.

But when they are divided by their teams and different stuff they need to do as part of being drivers. The two are adorably inseparable and while they both have their haters, they also have people who are just obsessed with them.

"Baby...wakey wakey." Lando whispers hovering over his girlfriend who groans immediately shoving her head under the pillow much to Lando's amusement.

If there's one thing y/n hates. It's being woken up. He's really not sure how she's going to handle Vegas. Especially if it's a repeat of last year where the whole weekend is a bit of a mess. Though Australia is still not a very fun time zone jump.

"Come on." Lando laughs then taking another method as he drops his weight down on y/n earning a grunt from the young woman. Though he's quickly repaid with a pillow being hit into his face which only makes him laugh harder.

"Get off of me, you lump." Y/n groans making him hum for a moment.

"Are you going to get up?"

"Yes! Yes. I'm getting up...Most annoying alarm clock ever." Y/n mumbles jokingly as he finally gets up from on top of her.

"Race day baby. Got to be on your game." Lando grins earning a hum and grumble. "How about a quick shower together and then...we get moving?"

"You should've offered that before you dropped your full weight on me." Y/n smiles then linking her hand with Lando's to pull him into the bathroom.

-

"Hey, there's our favourite couple. How are you guys feeling?" Laura asks, catching the two after the drivers parade.

"Lando asked me to crash into Max. So mean. I'd never crash into my future husband like that." Y/n grins sticking out her tongue when Lando raises both hands, one giving her the middle finger while the other blocks the gesture from the camera. "Don't be jealous, baby."

Lando doesn't even hesitate to bail on the interview, dragging y/n with him but the very much cheeky grin on his face speaks loudly of the fact he's not actually mad.

"Bye!" Y/n laughs handing the mic to an assistant.

The two actually part with a kiss that is of course captured by more than one camera.

Y/n walks further down the pit lane to the Aston Martin garage while Lando heads into the McLaren.

They stand with Yuki between them for the anthem, but it doesn't stop Lando reaching around Yuki as soon as he can to get his ritual "good luck" kiss from her before the race.

"I'll see you on the podium." Lando smiles earning a grin.

He's starting P4 while she's P7.

"Alright, super star. Let's go." Her trainer, James smiles as y/n moves to get her balaclava and helmet on before climbing in the car.

"Hope you fried his head with that kiss." The mechanic jokes as they strap her in.

"I try, but he's a hard man to knock the focus of." Y/n laughs as they plug her in and make sure her drink is connected properly. "Don't worry, my focus is harder to shake."

"What we like to hear." He chuckles patting her helmet before they place her steering wheel in.

Y/n radio checks and before she knows it she's on her own. Those few beats before the formation lap then they're off, not racing yet though strategy is already at play. They love playing the game of going slow to force Max to wait as long as they can force him to out on the grid while the rest line up.

By the time they've all lined up, Max has been there for nearly a minutes but they're there and watching for the red lights to light up one by one and then...they go out and they're off.

By some miracle everyone makes it through the first lap, and keep going through the race.

The field get some spread and y/n finds herself in a battle with Pierre for P5.

"Patience." Her race enginee, Vinnie states into her ear, sensing her aggravation from the fact she's stuck behind the French driver. "You'll get him, just be patient."

Irritation prickles her skin and as she passes over the line again, she decides she's had enough. Trying for a move in turn 3, a move that goes horribly wrong when she dives down the side and Pierre tries to defend too late.

"Y/n-"

Vinnie's voice is cut off when she finds herself airborne, flying up as her front wheel catches over Pierre's rear on the corner, sending her in the air, the car flipping with the nose digging into he gravel somehow not slowing her like it should before it continues to flipping and spinning.

Y/n wants to speak when the car stops but a burning sharpness has spread through her chest.

"Y/n? Y/n, are you ok?" Vinnie questions but her gasping for breath and the shakiness of her hand from her body fighting the pain. "Y/n, please confirm you're ok."

She manages to press the button not even gasping for air because she can't find a way to get more air in her.

"N-" Y/n tries taking a shallow breath against the instinct to gather as much air as possible. "No."

"Helps on the way. They're coming, just don't move. Don't try and get out right now. The car is safe there's no fire."

"Hurts." Y/n wheezes feeling the pain getting worse and the world starting to feel dark.

"Just stay with me. They're there, they're going to get you out. Ok? Stay awake and try to just breath a little."

Meanwhile the red flag has been called for.

"Is everyone ok?" Lando asks as he slows to his delta.

"Y/n and Pierre off in turn 3. It was a big one. I'll tell you more when you're back."

"Is she ok?" Lando questions much more aggressively. "Will, is she ok?"

"I'll get back to you. It's unclear."

Lando curses hitting the steering wheel as he it comes into the pit lane and he's not even stopped the car before he's undone his seatbelt and as soon as it's to a halt the mechanics haven't reached him before he's climbing out and jogging to the garage to see Will.

"What's happened?" Lando questions making Will and Jose look at each other.

"They won't replay, the crash cut her camera. We don't have radio access...But they're not sharing that she confirmed she's ok on radio." Will explains earning a look from the driver. "We think she's ok, they're getting her out the car from what we know."

"Fuck sake." Lando grumbles marching off heading towards the Aston Martin pit wall where Vinnie looks stressed. "What is going on?"

Vinnie looks at the driver with an expression that suggests he doesn't have time for him right now but he's also not going to deny him the little informations he does have.

"Y/n was responsive but she lost consciousness before the medical delegate got her out the car. She wasn't breathing properly on the radio. I don't know what else is happening it's down the the medical team. Go back to McLaren, please." Vinnie stresses making it clear he's not got anything else that will settle Lando.

"I want to know as soon as there's an update." Lando declares knowing he's not being fair, they have to prioritise taking care of y/n and making sure whatever they need to do for her benefit is happening.

He moves back to the garage just as the helicopter flies over the top of them heading in the direction of turn 3.

Suddenly a ton of bricks hits him as he realises what Vinnie said.

Unconscious and not breathing properly while she was conscious. All before they could even get her out the car.

Lando bumps into a mechanic stumbling a little before Jon appears catching him.

"What's happened? What's going on?"

"They don't know she...she wasn't breathing properly and she passed out before they got her out the car." Lando states as Jon helps to guide him over to sit down. "And they've got the helicopter landing on track."

"It'll be alright mate. She'll be ok."

"I'm not getting back in that car until I know she is."

Jon looks at Lando for a few beats before sighing.

The red flag lasts for nearly half an hour and Lando paces continuing to bother and question Will as much as possible. But eventually Vinnie appears looking at him.

"Y/n is in hospital...she broke her ribs and they punctured her lungs from the impact. Maybe one lung, it's hard to say. But she's alive...Now can you get in the damn car so I can stop getting messages asking if she's ok and whether they can shut you up and get you in the car?" Vinnie questions making Lando deflate a little. "Look, I can't tell you information I don't have and trust me I wish I have more."

It wasn't exactly Vinnie's favourite thing that he had to be on the radio hearing her say no she wasn't ok and that it hurt before she went silent. But that's not something he needs to inform Lando of.

"Get a podium for her to have something good to come back to." Vinnie states patting his shoulder. "I have to go."

Lando, Jon and Will all watch Vinnie take off into the Aston Martin garage before Jon looks at her.

"You ready to get back in the car? Because we've been given a time."

"Yeah...Ok."

-

With there still being little knowledge of y/n's condition. There isn't much celebrations on the podium, which Lando got P3 behind the Ferraris. Then he got off the podium and went to media almost eager to suddenly distract himself from possibly getting news about her.

"You don't have to debrief." Andrea states as Lando sits down.

"We always debrief." Lando shrugs making people around the room exchange expressions but they don't comment.

Although it doesn't last long when Lando's phone goes and y/n's name is on the screen making him bolt without a word.

"Y/n?" Lando chokes out answering the call.

"She's fine, she's awake but she's in the ICU. She wants to talk, but she can't get many words out. So just listen to her ok." James states making Lando hum, struggling to properly respond in fear of having a voice break. He hears the phone shifting around before James speaks up. "Ok, he's listening."

"Hi, baby." Y/n whispers then letting out some heavy breaths as if she's struggling to get air in. "I'm ok. I'm so proud of you."

"I'm coming to see you." Lando states making her look at him for a moment. "I'm coming to see you now."

"I-James?" Y/n mumbles making her trainer pick up the phone.

"Hey mate, she's pretty heavily drugged for the pain. What are you asking?" James questions making Lando withhold the need to grumble since he should be the one there with her.

"I want to come see her."

"Oh-Oh right ok. Yeah, so she's only allowed one visitor at the time, but if you let me know when you're here, I'll head out. Probably be best to grab some stuff from the hotel room for her but I don't want to leave her on her own to do it." James explains making him mumble a thanks.

-

By the the time Lando gets through the hallways and to y/n's room, doctors are checking in on her and James meets him outside the room.

"Hey, mate. Just so you don't have to quiz the doctors and nurses. Or y/n. Her right lung collapsed, left lung is bruised, they think it was the initial impact when the car flipped. Spinal fracture...They haven't exactly needed to say, but it's going to be a long and slow recovery. She can get out of here in a couple of days hopefully. But she's out for probably the reason." James sighs making Lando look at him to a look that makes James feel like he kicked a puppy. Clearly Lando is feeling the pain on his girlfriend's behalf at that thought. "But she's alive, and honestly that's all that matters to me."

"Yeah, yeah. Obviously. Is she awake?"

"Yeah, but she's still a little out of it from the drugs. They don't want to ease her off of them yet...it was an aggressive method of fixing it." James mumbles almost looking pained by the thought of what y/n has experienced. "Anyway, you go on. She wants to see you."

"Thanks man." Lando nods before exchanging a quick hug and moving into the hospital room, the sight of y/n in the bed. She's hot a nasal cannula and more wires and tubes around her than Lando would ever want to see around her. "Hey, there's my beautiful."

"I'm not beautiful right now." Y/n states earning a frown before tears begin to fall and the worst words Lando could've ever heard from her are uttered. "It hurt so much and I was so scared."

Lando knows if the drugs weren't in her system, y/n never would've let anyone know that information. Especially not him.

"You're ok now and you don't need to be scared, I'm going to make sure you're so safe." Lando smiles sitting down and taking her hand into his own. "I'm not going anywhere till you are. I love you."

"I love you too." Y/n mumbles with a small smile. "I'm not going to be allowed to drive for a long time am I?"

"Don't worry about that. Right now, all we need you to focus on it getting better so when you're ready, you're back in that car." Lando smiles kissing her hand. "Ok?"

"Ok."

"Now, you get rest because that's the best way to start recovery, yeah?"

"Yeah." Y/n mumbles almost obediently.

-

Y/n asks Lando to handle sharing news online since she does have a lot of people concerned for her since absolutely no news had been shared about if she was even conscious. They're only been able to share how bad the crash was.

Of course in a very sweet post, and thanks to James returning and capturing a photo of Lando leaning forwards to sleep with his head on the bed next to her, clutched onto her hand while she slept.

Then after that Lando decided to share a video on his story just to share a cute moment.

"Hey, baby. What we doing today?" Lando smiles as y/n sits on the edge of the bed.

"Leaving! Hate this bed. 3 days is too much." Y/n grins though it's fairly obvious she's slow moving and not in any rush to move too quickly.

"We're getting her out." Lando confirms then placing his phone down when she tries and fails to put her shoes on without bending down. "I got it, baby. I got it."

Capturing the moment on video of Lando helping her get her shoes on wasn't actually the intention but he's not exactly sorry for it either. The man loves capturing memories in all sorts of ways and while this might not be a time of her life y/n is overly eager to remember, but he thinks it's important for her to remember these moments.

-

Y/n return to the paddock for Japan was a big deal. Though they made sure to have the most heavy duty security they could hire to keep anyone and everyone back. Her spine has done well to heal the fastest but she's not quite been able to push her body for recovery like Carlos had.

Though she tried and Carlos reached out to help. Actually so many of the drivers visited her when she was out of the hospital but still on strict bed rest in the hotel.

"Alright, will you be ok?" Lando asks, not particularly eager to be leaving her with Aston Martin, as much as James being there is reassuring.

"Yeah, I'm good." Y/n mumbles earning a nod from the McLaren driver but he still looks uneasy. "I'm only here with them for a couple hours then I'll come find you."

"I know, I just hate it." Lando shrugs earning a small smile before he leans in and kisses her. "Please text or call if you need-or just want me."

"Ok." Y/n laughs making him sigh before she gives him one final kiss then links her hand to James' for some support. James winks at Lando to reassure him that he's got her.

-

"And there is y/n, on the pit wall between Aston Martin, her team who have been very vocal of the fact that as soon as she is ready to race again. The seat is hers for the taking. But it has been acknowledged that y/n's recovery is long and the F1 medics and doctors have said she is nowhere near where they'd want her to be for driving." Crofty states as y/n watches from the pit wall with James.

"I do want to credit y/n, she's documented the small progress and journey because her fans have been so so concerned. She didn't have to share anything but she has and I think it's really actually woken people up to the risk the drivers take. Obviously footage of the crash is now out there, it was...horrific and knowing that she was trapped, she was in a hell of a lot of pain. It's a big deal that she's even here." Martin adds earning a hum and nod. "I'm sure it's not fun for her to be here watching, I spoke to her and she definitely wants to be back in the car...Lando seems happy to extend her leave for as long as possible purely out of concern for her not getting back into things too quick and before she's ready and fit to be in the car."

Y/n has actually realised it might not be till Spain or Austria before she's back in the car. Which is 6 or 7 races, not including the one she's missing here in Japan.

"How you feeling?" James asks as she watches the cars go past, her smiling as she spots Lando specifically passing by.

"I hate being a spectator." Y/n admits earning a sympathetic smile. "But it's kind of nice getting to watch Lando again."

"Aww...I'm sure he'll love that." James chuckles earning a hum.

-

A few weeks of painfully slow healing and reintroducing herself into training again, y/n is finally making progress to feeling more like herself.

It's in Spain that they decide to test her in FP1. Just to see how she feels being back in the car. Though Lando isn't eager for her to make such a step. Not because he wants to be unsupportive, but he just doesn't want her being in pain because of it.

"You seem more nervous than me." Y/n jokes as they lie in bed together, Lando underneath her while she lies on his upper body. "If it hurts or I can't handle it, then I'll let them know as soon as possible."

"I know you will, I just don't like the thought of you hurting at all."

Y/n doesn't remember telling Lando that it hurt and that she was scared. The drugs were still so heavy that the memories of Lando getting to the hospital aren't something she recalls, but that sentence still haunts him.

Eventually they're up and out the hotel, getting on with their days and while Lando is feeling nervous for y/n. She seems eager and excited.

They're taking a similar approach to Carlos and taking precautions of extra padding when she's in the car and it really is still just the one practice to see how she fairs. If things go well and she feels confident then she could very well be back for Austria.

"Alright, good luck kiss." Lando smiles as he catches her walking out the Aston Martin unit ahead of the practice. "I forgot how good you look in a race suit."

It actually took a bit longer than she is used to getting the suit on with having to add the extra padding and taping her in hopes of making sure she's as secure and comfortable as possible.

"Mmm...I always thought you preferred me out of one." Y/n teases with a grin before looping her arms around his neck and kissing him. "Good luck."

"Good luck." Lando whispers stealing another kiss before he moves quickly away from her.

To y/n's surprise when she walks into the garage, she actually finds herself being applauded walking into the garage and she almost hides herself behind James.

Then she spots a banner over the top of the garage entrance saying "we missed you". Her lip immediately begins to tremble as she tries to stop her emotions getting the better of her.

"Aww...Success. We surprised you." James laughs while the team cheer.

"We've missed you kid." Her head mechanic smiles moving to hug her gently. "The car is all ready for you and you've got 5 minutes before the session starts."

Eventually she's actually given everyone a hug before finally moving back to get her balaclava on and her helmet before climbing into the cockpit and settling down into the seat.

They're careful about the seatbelts while making sure they're as secure as always.

"Comfortable?"

"Yeah, I'm good." She nods before smiling brightly with a thumbs up.

Maybe it's not surprise that Aston Martin has made sure to have several cameras on her for her return. They've actually been very eagerly awaiting her recovering and return. But with the risk of her lung collapsing again being 50% in the initial following weeks after it happened. There was no one willing to take the risk of compromising her recovery.

"Radio check, super star." Vinnie's voice states in her ears making her laugh.

"Radio check, lover." Y/n laughs before sighs softly. "When can I go?"

"Soon. Calm down. The track is going to be shit to drive on. Needs a serious clean up."

"I don't care. This already feels like I've just got home."

"Oh stop, I'm tearing up." Vinnie mocks since he knows y/n can take it.

"Shut up and let me out this garage." Y/n laughs which does give Vinnie the push to get her out on track.

When she's directed to get out into the pit lane she's already hyper aware that the cameras will likely be focusing on her. The whole paddock has been completely enamoured by her. She almost feels like it's her first week again.

"The grand return. I have to say it is amazing to see y/n out on track. I have so missed her." Crofty states as they watch y/n take turn 1.

"Yes, she's been working hard. I actually spoke to her trainer James. He said that she's been determined to be back before the summer break. I think it's safe to say that she is more than ready to be back but they fairly want to test her before throwing her in for a race. I feel like it's been a while and we forget that y/n was actually very close to not being with us at all because of the extent of her injuries and the fact she was trapped upside down in that car. If they hadn't got her out the car in time we could've seen a very different outcome."

"Well let's see how she is during and after this practice."

"She's certainly prepared for being the centre of attention. I saw her talking to Laura earlier in an interview and she said that she was absolutely being hounded by anyone and everyone."

"Lando made a comment about it. The poor man has definitely been feeling the stress about her being back in the car. In fact-there he is in a replay in his garage, watching y/n drive past."

"The drivers obviously care when one of them is hurt but Lando is absolutely in love with y/n and vice versa, but when the report came that he was refusing to get in the car during the red flag because of her crash. That was big to me, I mean obviously he had no idea of how sever things were. No one even knew how bad the crash was. He was just as much in the dark as the rest of us and I do believe he would've withdrawn himself from that race."

"I agree. Oh and out he comes. perfectly timed with y/n just ending her flying lap which...wow, y/n may have only gotten back in the car but she's just set a 1:13.1." Crofty chuckles shaking his head. "Oh and there's a nice little wave from Lando as they pass. Very sweet."

"Well, so long as she's feeling good. I think that lap along is certainly a good sign that we will be seeing her in Austria for the whole race weekend." Martin smiles making Crofty agree immediately.

-

Y/n had a bit of a sore neck but other than that, she felt great. Rejuvenated actually.

"I rewatched the whole hour of your practice...You belong in that car on track." Lando grins as they get ready for bed. "Are they sure you can't just do the whole weekend and race?"

"Mmm...I think they want to wait and see that I still feel ok tomorrow. The concern isn't necessarily just the immediately effects."

"I'm so proud of you, baby." Lando grins making her smile as he cups her face.

"You were bricking it the whole time I was out there...I've been tagged by literally every fan a million times in the clips of you looking like you're going to be sick. Especially when I first came out the garage." Y/n smiles before sighing and pulling Lando down to the bed. "But right now I really just need your cuddles."

"Aww...my baby." Lando coos with a grin laughing as she nuzzles into him. "You know...I don't know what I would do without you. I love you so much."

"You don't need to worry. I could crash a thousand times, I'm going to come back to you ever time. Because I love you too...So much." Y/n grins shifting up and kissing him. "Just don't crash like I did, because it hurts like hell and I'd react much worse than you did."

"Noted." Lando smiles before feeling her rest her head on his chest.

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando #norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #mclaren #ln4 one shot #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #ln4 x you #ln4 x y/n #ln4 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 x you

[noxtivagus]

I HAVE WRITTEN SO MUCH IN MY NOTES IN THE PAST HOUR OH MY of today n then to-do dump n other stuff too 🫣

#🌙.rambles #i write my answers for asks in my notes like i'm writing my first draft for an essay 😭😭 tbf writing long stuff here on tumblr is like #writing letters to me. i love it so so much. i ended up ranting in my to-do list though cries. that said tho.... one thing i wrote here tha #i want to ramble about in tags. thinking abt college since some relatives asked earlier. since i'm aiming to head into top unis here yh #not gna have my close friends to be in school w which makes me a bit sad 🥹 but god i'd love to one day experience studying w friends #at houses or cafes or libraries. one thing i'm excited abt growing up is having more freedom in going out w people #also thinking abt how i love childhood friends to lovers so. i want my own in a way. but ion have ^ that r potential love interests tho so #friends i have in hs are what i'd next ideally like if it were possible. cries that would be my ideal type bcs i love the idea of #growing up together in these somewhat vulnerable stages i think. we're all learning so much n so young. but nah not gna happen most likely #wna reconnect w my old friends to keep contact n widen my circle. more friends. friend groups. i'm not the most social person esp irl but #i think for most of my life i've had inconsistent friendships so it's gotten lonely? closest friends r kinda drifting away as we grow older #n w everything in the present i think i'm afraid of being left behind. i wish i cld open up. be more honest and less hesitant w reaching ou #i know what i want n i'm just afraid to seek it out directly but. anxiety. i don't want to be a bother but i rlly crave #deep and authentic relationships. i'd really seek them out but maybe the inner child in me can't really let that guard down yet ? #deep down i think i'm afraid of being hurt again n left behind. forgotten. (don't leave me behind. please stay with me. tell me it's real) #there's so much i don't want to forget. so much i want to hold unto. so much i want to do. that keeps me going. i want to learn so much #listening to kingdom hearts right now is making me emotional.... now that i'm growing older i want to do so much more #was nearly crying while writing this in my notes because it hurts so much and i think i'm so so afraid #love... whether it be familial or platonic. one day romantic too. goddamn listening to don't think twice reminds me of my young dreamer sel #& love for life as a whole n myself too. i want to keep my childhood. i'll have what i can. do what i can. ffs life's too short so #i'll reach out more. even if i get anxious embarrassed shy / i need to actively challenge that. even if i'm afraid. face my fears #like goddamn i want to open up i want to be honest. i'm not embarrassed by my emotions bcs it's human. but i just can't #i'll do it all. i really will. life goes by far too fast and i don't want to lose all of this. so i need to be stronger. better #but simultaneously i just want to rest n idk be a kid again and stop thinking and worrying so much #adolescence.... holding unto my childhood while also making steps towards adulthood. n i'm so afraid but i know it'll be alright #so long as i trust myself ? i know a lot of pain. i'm certain that i'm capable. but. ffs. tears in my eyes. (i'm afraid. i'm so afraid aren #sorry for the rant i just realized again n. yk i'm human n that's something i need to be constantly reminded of #spending time with people and indulging in my passions give me life but. the former is so fleeting n i'm afraid of being left alone #the latter is so hard when time's going far too fast and it feels like i can't keep up with it all #'don't think twice' : 'if you want to make it happen/ nothing's impossible / all you gotta do is say the word/ the walls will crumble'

[bovineblogger]

I think it’s really cute to see cows by the side of the road when driving, but it also makes me sad to think they might be eaten. How can you tell dairy cows from beef cows? Is there a difference? Is there any other reason to raise cows besides food?

i could spend some time teaching you guys about different beef and dairy breeds, but i think the underlying concern here is about beef farming if im correct! if im not, let me know and i can write up a post about beef and dairy breeds, because i do love talking about them too hehe.

its completely normal and human to be upset at the thought of an animal dying, death is an ugly thing to a lot of people you know? i think its in our nature not to want animals to suffer. but its important to realize that everywhere in the world animals are there to be eaten by other animals. the ecosystem, the cycle of life, whatever you wanna call it.

in the wild, bovines are mostly picked off by predators when they're young and unable to defend themselves! an animal can be killed and eaten at any point, and if they get sick or injured thats often fatal for them. in captivity, cattle and other bovines get to live to adulthood happy and healthy and surrounded by friends! they get free food n water, free medical care, and they get to sit in a big field with all their buddies. we care for them and love them for their entire lives, and at our hands they die quickly and painlessly. and then we eat them. its a symbiotic relationship.

to an outsider the industry can seem 2 to be all death bc thats the only part we know about. but its so much more than that! farmers dedicate their whole lives to their animals. they raise them, feed them, tend them when theyre sick, give them space to run around, make sure theyre not too hot or cold and that their water troughs are clean... for whole lifetimes! over and over and over, farming is about life. we feed them and they feed us. its beautiful. genuinely.

images (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

#asks #cattle

[remember-the-fanfics]

Hai, so um I really like the Gen-Z overlord Reader, bc well they are basically me, if you are able/want to can you make some possible angst headcanons? Like how they miss home or their friends

Just Before the pilot episode

I'm trying so hard to have a timeline, everything is connected! I just have it in no order.

This is shorter than usual.

• You would have so many things to be sad about

• Like how you could never live your life before you died

• Missing all your friends because they'll (hopefully) get to grow old

• Your family grieving over your life being taken to soon.

• Older sibling never got to see you truly become an adult without your parents

• Younger sibling missing you, who just got them in a way where they could annoy you but you would still protect them afterwards.

• Parents/Guardian losing their child way to soon.

• You usually avoid those thoughts, having to do be someone strong daily for the people you protect.

• You already had time to mourn the future you never got and everyone you miss when you weren't an Overlord.

• So pushing your grief all the way down inside to never see the light of day.

"Haha, nope."

• Until you seeing or smell something like home and it hits you, hard.

• Then you're back being a child, who just wants their parents to comfort them from a nightmare.

• You're with Angel Dust, Vaggie, and Charlie. Doing an exercise that Charlie ropped you into.

• When something of the moment of true trust reminds you of home.

• The last place it was completely given so freely.

• Angel Dust nugges you saying it was your turn again.

• Before realizing you had tears that started stream down your face.

• He tried to cheer you up with a joke

"Didn't think the exercise was that bad."

• Didn't work for the most part.

• You were laughing, while crying. Creepied him out and got the others attention.

• You just wanted to go home, back to the people you care about.

• But you could never go back, you were dead.

• Why does it feel so unfair that you died before you actually got to live.

• Getting up while everyone was asking you if you were alright

"Ha ha, no."

• Heading to your room because you didn't want to drag everyone else's mood down with you.

• Only to be stop by Angel Dust, who knows how you feel about missing your family but not understanding that your grief about missing your life.

"I didn't get to live my life, Angel! I died less than two months after I turned 18, I still lived with my parents! My family and friends had to bury me, I have to wait while everyone I know get to live."

• Angel Dust did not know you were that young.

• This is the first time most of them saw you be more than just chaotic.

• Heading to your room to be alone finally

• After you got your emotions back inside because you are still needed by many people.

• Avoided Charlie for awhile because she wanted you to talk about your feelings

• Then Vaggie when Charlie got sad about it.

• You stayed away from the hotel for a week, wanting stayat your territory for the extermination any way.

• Texts Charlie and Vaggie, that you would be back afterwards.

• Charlie texting you about an interview she has the day after.

• Vaggie texts you to stay safe until then.

• Missing your family from life and realizing that you made your own type of family-friendship in hell.

• Not having time to process it when you see an explosion from a far and you know who would be there and rushing there to make sure they'll be okay.

-

And that leads you into the whole being there when Carmilla killed an exorcist.

#hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel x reader #platonic hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #hazbin vaggie #genz reader #not that angsty but i tried

[littlemissayu]

TWST Boys as ✨ PARENTS✨(Part 2)

ft: Octavinelle, Scarabia | pt.1; ft.Heartsabyul & Savanaclaw | pt.3; ft.Pomefiore, Ignhihyde | pt. 4; ft.Diasomnia

TW: kids, pregnancy, reader is depicted as female, domestic, fluff

Azul Ashengrotto-

4 very well behaved children. For the majority of the time they are really good kids, listening, getting good grades,and respectful. Until you make one of them angry, bc they will hold that grudge and with find a way to pull a fast on you; yet will they admit they're mad if you simply ask? No. They DO know how to forgive and they do to the people they love. Honestly Azul would be a very gentle parent because he has a soft heart and doesn't think his kids could do anything wrong, definitely the parent who will find some excuse for his kid.Don't get me wrong he knows where ti draw the line like if their kicking someone's chair on an airplane. 2 boys and 2 girls, and he would never have it any other way(even if originally he was sort of scared of messing them up).

Jade Leech-

2 kids, two adorable little girls. His daughters were super calm children. When you two first brought your first home you were gald yet worried because she rarely cried throughout the night. All you could think is 'This is so jade's daughter'. Both of your kids are absolutely brilliant and catch on fast. Your 2nd daughter was very into photography and would snap pictures of family and her dad's mushroom garden.One father's day she gave her dad a photo album filled with pictures of him with his family (and his mushrooms & terrariums); he almost cried tears of joy. Jade loves to spoil his little girls, he tries to say no to them but they give him those sad, sad eyes and he just gives in. Very protective of your and your girls, you guys are the most important people in his life.

Floyd Leech-

6-10 kids, two words ; baby machine. He loves seeing you pregnant so he does it over and over again. The most chaotic dad to ever have, wanna egg the neighbors house? He'll help. Wanna troll local Walmart employees? You guys will get kicked out together. Wanna rustle with a good ol' dad in the mud? Let's do it!! To others he may seem like a horrible parent but his kids know he always means best and they love him. He hates parent-teacher conference, bc now he has to listen to some strange rant about his kid for 25 minutes; but the upside is if his kids do really well they get to treat them for whatever they want. He'll also get to be super proud!! He has at least 2-3 sets of twins only one of them is boy-girl, other(s) is boy-boy.

Kalim Al Asim-

9- whenever you tell him you don't want anymore kids!! This man wants a huge family like he had growing up. Most of his kids seem to be super happy go lucky like their dad. He has more self-control by the time he has kids so thankfully he isn't throwing parties everyday, but if his kids want to have one ; go all out!! (Just don't do anything illegal). All his kids are given unlimited cards by the age of 13, he wanted to do 7 but you said it was too young so he agreed on 13. His kids are the life of every party, you either really love 'em or really hate 'em. These kids are 100% either home-schooled or in a prestigious private school and have bodyguards for the obvious reasons being they are Asim kids they have constant threat someone will assassinate/kidnap them. But Kalim is a great dad and his kids love him!! I'm not gonna list all his kids but his first is a little girl <3

Jamil Viper-

2 kids, very strict. He is the first Viper in years to break the long line of servitude to the Asim family. It's hard to break out of certain habits but, although it made his kids super sneaky, it also made them work really hard to not have dad be disappointed. His kids are super smart and always on top of their class. Like their dad they are very talented, his daughter takes up painting and martial arts, and his son takes up spelldrive and culinary. Jamil may be strict but he is also a very proud parent, as his kids seem to always do amazing things. He does tell them when he's proud and tells them how great they're doing and how much he loves them. Lucky for them they also inherited his gorgeous hair.

Octavinelle Masterlist

Scarabia Masterlist

TWST Masterlist

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #fluff #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #kalim al asim #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #domestic #babies #tw babies

[moonshynecybin]

if you have the time or inclination, can i ask what the deal with motogp/those boys is about? i don’t mean that in a mean way btw, im just curious and i love drama

i will try to be brief (1/4358)

SO! valentino rossi (born 16 February 1979, aquarius. italian.) is one of the most iconic people in motorsport, CERTAINLY in motogp. he's a 9 time world champion, your favorite driver's favorite driver, and is generally credited with revolutionizing the popularity of the sport by: a. being insanely good at motorcycle racing, and b. in general having a lot of fun about it. lethally charming and charismatic. all time active listening face. just a fun and funny dude that everyone pretty much likes and MANY younger riders idolize. VERY good at handling the media and his legions of cult-like fans. sometimes treated more like a god than a person. i was in the store yesterday and saw one of his themed monster energy drinks despite him retiring two years ago. his fun retirement activity is racing BMWs and running his own motogp team/training facility/cult for young italian racers. (this is where cele and bezz and basically every italian rider not named enea bastianini come from!)

so in 2011ish valentino had won 9 titles, and he decided to leave his current manufacturer and move to italian manufacturer ducati where he generally had a stone-cold terrible time. EXTENDED flop era for a couple years. any time ive watched content that covers this period everyone is so sad. so sad. anyways he GOES BACK to his old manufacturer in 2013 and is much more competitive. kind of just happy to be winning sometimes and be on the podium. 2013 is also where marc comes in. what could go wrong.

marc marquez! (born 17 february 1993, almost exactly 14 years after vale which i'm sure means nothing. also an aquarius. spanish.) childhood sports idols include: dani pedrosa, VALENTINO ROSSI.

marc carved his way up through the feeder championships until casey stoner unexpectedly retired at the end of the 2012 season leaving a seat empty on a VERY good bike for his rookie season. rocked up and was immediately VERY good at winning and very good at being a crazyinsane person on track that made people mad at him lol. hilarious habit of pissing people off via on-track crimes that i really enjoy. motogp riders are already crazy (they do death sport) but marc is famous for taking risks no one else will. basically if he's not winning, he's crashed out or he's maybe crashed YOU out. he wins the championship as a rookie (insane) and the next year's championship as well. heir apparent to the throne. sweet and goofy but is now known as one of the more reserved riders with the press. probably because of all this drama tbh. undisputed GOAT of acting like a slut on camera

throughout 2013-2014, marc and valentino had a good relationship! marc very clearly idolizes him and is like. bowled over completely with delight every time valentino looks his way. vale likes him! theyre buds! truly an endless well of pictures of vale explaining something with his hands and marc babygirling at him. highly recommend checking out @pgaslys every rosquez podium tag for contextual brain damage. insane times.

(IT SHOULD BE NOTED: before the 2015 season marc visits valentino at his practice track in italy, where they compete to break the track record and almost kill each other bc they are so pathologically competitive. APPARENTLY, marc showed up with some official mechanics and valentino was a little pissed off because it was supposed to be a like. fun thing. and to marc winning is the most fun! if you dont come to win why come at all! anyways marc breaks the track record and credits that to cooling their relationship a bit. good post about it here.) here they are that day:

so what could go wrong, right? WELL. valentino has a chance to win his tenth title in 2015. marc is on a flop bike and crashed a bunch so he's not in the championship conversation but vale is leading the standings from the jump, with his main opponent being jorge lorenzo. i think he really wanted that tenth, and dedicated himself to the season in a way he hadnt really ever before (he was a very effortless competitor when he was young. gym-adverse. king).

marc and him start to get into some scraps along the way, notably in argentina (where they made contact and marc crashed out), assen (where they made contact AGAIN and vale won the race), and phillip island (marc won. GREAT race available here for free). phillip island sees vale finishing P4 and jorge lorenzo finishing ahead of him in P3, reducing his championship lead by quite a bit. no real indication of any tension during these races, and they are asked about it!

this is where valentino's delulu era begins! basically, ahead of the next race (🔥🔥SEPANG 2015🔥🔥) in the pre-race press conference, he goes after marc, saying he was deliberately sabotaging valentino in phillip island because marc wanted jorge to win. in valentino's mind. marc wants jorge to win because a. they are both spanish (??) and b. it would mean marc has to win less titles to equal valentino's total. record scratch. freeze frame.

everyone (including marc!) thinks valentino is joking at first bc that is bananascrazyinsane. he was not joking. (it should be noted valentino STILL thinks this lol.) anyways marc is completely blindsided. he thought they were good! yeah they've been chippy on track but that's racing!! truly like. 22 years old and your friend (AND CHILDHOOD IDOL.) is calling you a snake in front of your face with NO prior warning to the entire motogp establishment writ large including your coworkers and REPORTERS. valentino wont even look at him the entire time. the press conference is available here on vimeo. excruciating gifsets of marc's very stiff bewildered PR smile found here.

anyways so. the race. marc is uh. pissed off. he's stuck to valentino like GLUE the entire time and they trade places a bunch of times. now marc is kind of famous for being a little asshole on track anyways, but its not like he's gonna get out of valentino's way and just let him pass after what he said in that press conference so. hand in unlovable hand <3. truly very fun to watch imo even with the sword of damocles hanging over them. marc is fucking on one the entire race and basically refuses to give valentino an inch until vale gets so fed up with his antics that um. well. it certainly looks like he kicked him. vale says he didnt, and that his leg accidently made contact with marc's bike. marcs says. he fucking kicked me. judge for yourself here!

so valentino gets hauled in front of race direction and penalized for the next race (the deciding race for the championship). he has to start from the back of the grid and it kills his chance at a tenth title stone dead. vale places the blame squarely on marc's shoulders and his legions of fans decide marc is public enemy number 1. him and jorge have to get security at the next race because of death threats, someone tries to break into marc's childhood home back in spain, marc's mom throws away all of marc's valentino merchandise from when he was a kid. vale says nothing.

but the thing about marc. is that he loves very hard and chooses his people pretty carefully. didnt really move out of his tiny hometown until he turned 30 and also made his baby brother move in with him kind of guy. so all this is not really enough for him to let go of vale entirely! 2016 is where the pain lives! bc marc is still reaching out and vale himself stays pretty cold for a couple years. they seem to faintly reconcile for a bit but its not anywhere like it was before sepang.

the real nail in the coffin is argentina 2018. another insane race where marc has to start from the back and goes on a rampage through the field and crashes out like three people. i cant remember. this race is also available on youtube for free its very entertaining. every five minutes marc does something insane. vale is one of the people marc crashes out and afterwardshe goes on a big rant about how marc is destroying the sport and is actively dangerous. marc goes to valentino's garage immediately after the race to apologize and vale doesnt even look at him. he gets turned away at the door after vale's best friend/assistant/henchman yells in his face1!!! and thats kind off all she wrote in terms of reconciliation

anyways that's where we are! they are both very much not over it. vale goes on podcasts and is like. in 30 years i will still be mad, im literally never going to get over it it was such a big and unfair thing and i think about it all the time like it was yesterday. and marc (lying) says as time goes by i dont even think about it :) and i care about valentino less and less :))) but yes he hurt me deeply lol. CANNOT stress enough how much this entire thing is now inextricably liked to both of their legacies. the two arguable GOATs of a sport had an epic fleetwood mac-style beatles breakup divorce and everyone wants to talk about it allllll day long including me :)

additional context! really recommend checking out marc's little docuseries he put out this year about his recent struggles with injury. he is so not right in the head and it goes over the valentino drama in ep3. theres also hitting the apex (2015) which goes over the 2013 season (marc's rookie season) and is a really good introduction to all the major players at the time. its like less than 2 hrs long so its not too much of a commitment

also recommend following scholars @babynflames, @its-always-silly-season, @baking-soda, and @f1vegas as well as many others im forgetting rn bc its 2am!

#truly. i am new here. so grain of salt etc #motogp #callie speaks #asks #long post #rosquez

[alwynsalps]

So obviously after the Joe breakup shit changed we had that ratty twatty and then suddenly travis. Like ratty twatty first of all made it seem like you know this person is like horrible yet you choose to be with him? Everyone called her (rightfully) out I feel like cause he is really a twat of a person and the whole ice spice collab to basically "save" Matty twattys image. I also felt like it was unfair of her fans to force her to break up with him I mean it's her life. And Joe during this time went through so much shit after the break up I remember he was papped and everyone made fun of how skinny he is and how horrible he looks (he had bags under his eyes on the photo) which is actually sad cause he lost his grandmother I think during that time and people were genuinely saying disgusting things and saying mother is looking so much better etc etc while Joe was having a downwards spiral. Again I understand no one knew his depression was that bad but fuck swifties can be more kind.

Exit ratty twatty enter travesty lord this man gives me the ick.

Swifties are blinded by their relationship but he is really not a good dude. I mean that video live of him pushing his coach and yelling? Videos online of him being openly racist, being a trump supporter (and also swifties are dumb they think bc he got vaccinated and bent the knee for black lives matter he is somehow Democrat?) honey trump is vaccinated as well. And just because he supported blm does not make him a good person. He was PAID to do all that performative shit.

I mean she has millions of fans, thousands of young girls thinking the blatant red flags of travesty is hot and shit. Tells me he can push her around too. (not to mention he supported his abusive friend that literally hit his wife.)

And it feels like she's forcing travesty tbh? Like girlie you wanted the art to be about you yet you let some man overshadow it. Because truly that's what's happening like swifties are more into him at this point and the relationship they made up in their head as Taylor.

This is where I got annoyed and took a step back. Each time they were seen Joe got thousands and thousands of hate just for what being introverted?

Then they attacked Emma (Joe's Co worker) for a cheating rumor THEY MADE UP and the shit they said were so genuinely disgusting she had to switch off her comments.

Then Ai audio dropped about Joe abusing Taylor and Ai videos circled making it seem like Joe is a cheater when he is NOT. fuck they even trended a sex scene with that Alison chick he worked with saying he said Alison (her real name) and not her character's name when he DID NOT. It was in the fucking series! This woman got slut shamed so bad she turned off comments too for literally WORKING with Joe. Swifties literally spread shit around that he cheated on Taylor with Emma and Alison when he didn't! And the fucking best of all Taylor was on the set while filming conversations with friends. She most likely saw it IN PERSON and they chose to say all this genuinely disgusting shit about Alison who I've learned is actually a pretty good person.

Here I got genuinely disgusted.

So okay again I understand that Taylor can't control all her fans but her silence while her cult mass harrases people?

Whats insane to me is Joe. Like the guy got so much hate because SHE CHOSE to lead fans on. When she announced ttpd everyone thought the title relates to Joe and Paul mescal

Joe got mass hate

Then the secret songs at eras being about cheating

Joe got death threats

ALL TO BE AN ALBUM ABOUT THE FUCKING SEWER RAT SHE CAN'T GET OVER?!

she literally took ALL the hate against Joe *knowing* she's releasing an album dissing her 6 weeks situationship is genuinely disgusting. I cannot fathom it.

And AND the only thing she could say about Joe is dude did not want to marry her bc he was severely depressed WHICH IS NOT HER PLACE TO TALK ABOUT HIS STRUGGLES?

like I am SORRY this man wants to d word next to her and she just didn't care and wanted to fuck Matty?

Her partner, that got her through her darkest times BTW, did not deserve this.

She let all this mass harrasment just happen to market ttpd. Like genuinely what the actual fuck. 2 innocent women Emma and Alison were attacked and called sluts for genuinely existing and breathing the same air as Joe. And the proof he did not cheat is in her OWN lyrics. (which swifties cannot seem to fucking read bc they'd rather attack Joe than admit this album is about a sewer nazi rat)

The hate Joe got made me cry. The disgusting things they said about him. Swifties literally threatening to bash his head in with a hammer or that he needs to hang himself and they'd enjoy seeing his body swinging from the roof.

Genuinely why would any person say this to anyone at any time?

And they made fun of depression like. What. The. Fuck. Just because Joe might not see it does not mean other people with crippling depression won't.

Oh and a side note she's still bringing up Kim on albums? Not just Kim Kim's CHILD?! leave the kid alone.

Genuinely feel like the most honest Taylor we got was during lover (a time which Joe helped her voice her political opinions and shit) and idk I just feel cheated on?

My whole life I've defended Taylor against everyone and I genuinely feel like she's showing her true colors now being with travesty and ratty and I cannot fathom how this is the same Taylor I'm seeing now as she was like a few years ago.

And it's not just Joe that got death threats BTW. When midnights came out and everyone gave honest reviews cause that evil Jack antonof little gay man ruined the production there were journalists literally getting so much death threats its insane.

Taylor gets (rightfully) called out and fans can't handle it.

She needs to address them ASAP. All these parasocial freaks. The people harrasing Joe. The people literally only seeing Taylor as a breeder for travestys children.

I can't genuinely I can't this is not how I want to feel about Taylor I mean I gave her my youth I looked up to her so much I feel so disappointed in the way she's acting yk?

Yes maybe she can't do jack shit about swifties but she can try.

And her staying quiet over Palestine? Her voice her one post about a ceasefire could change EVERYTHING.

idk at this point I can't stand to be around Taylor.

#anti taylor swift #free joe alwyn #joe alwyn #Swifties dni #anti travis kelce

[brandnewhuman]

THE COD MALEWIFE

♡ random headcanons ♡

☆ starring ☆

♡ könig aka the most babygirl of them all ♡

Tw: mentions of anxiety, weight and mature language. Other than that pure fluff

A/N: YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. YOU DON'T GET IT HOW MUCH THIS MAN IS STARTING TO GROW ON ME. THIS FUCKING TALL ASS BITCH AND THE OTHER GIANT JACK SKELLIGNTON FUCKER ARE THE BAIN OF MY EXISTENCE. I needed to do write for him, you can blame it on tiktok and it's sinful content and @bloodlst for fueling my obsession

He knows a lot of cool fidgeting tricks with pencils or knives because he needs to keep his hands busy when he's nervous.

It's almost like a security blanket for him when he's around too many people, he carries something he can fidget with and uses it

I can't stress this enough but tall people have back pains and oh boy if könig is tall

He is always cranky in the morning because of it and because he loves to just sleep in the weirdest fucking positions ever

Which is funny cause otherwise his postures is always very straight and stiff, it just that when he sleeps he gets all weird

About that, he hates, absolutely despises, the beds they have during missions

THEY'RE TOO SMALL OKAY? AND TOO THIN AND HE CAN'T FUCKING REST WELL AT ALL

which makes me absolutely sure he downs coffee likes it's fucking water

His breakfast is basically a big ass mug of coffee first and then some herbal or fruity tea or maybe some juice

He loves sweets but has a weirdly good self control

He just likes the idea of savouring things rather than eating all at once bc they're so good

Besides I just know he has also a tendency to gain weight more easily than the others

He just tries to be as healthy and balanced with things as much possible bro

The only times he doesn't pays much attention to what he eats is around the holidays or when he gets to see his family

Which always ends up in him putting some weight but he doesn't cares that much, he always gets in shape before getting back to work

He loves to read, he carries a book everywhere he goes and ITS THAT TYPE OF PERSON WHO CAN'T FUCKING HIDE THEIR REACTION TO WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THE STORY

You can actively see this unit of a man closing the book and like getting up and walking away two steps just to turn around and keep reading

HE CAN'T HANDLE THE DRAMA OKAY? LEAVE HIM ALONE

He does not look his age at all. Either bc of how youthful he acts or bc he looks really young no one has ever guessed his age and it's something he find quite funny so he just let people try to figure it out on their own

People are often really mean with him and sometimes really harsh. He knows they're just playing around and they mess up with everyone like that but he gets genuinely hurt sometimes

No one notices cause he always takes it like a champ tho

I feel like ghost kind of gets annoyed at him. Not for the reason you may think

He's just looks always so serene and at peace, but most importantly happy and it's something ghost can't comprehend given what they do for a living

Key word is looks

König is not a sad person by default and he recovers pretty quickly for certain things but he always carries around a weight of guilt and self doubt that is unbearable sometimes

Much like ghost, this man is kind of scare of himself really

He always worries about ending up being some sort of psycho who has no regards towards human lives

He gets so carried away when he's on the mission and often does not realise how efficient and kind of brutal he can get

He is absolutely scared of ghost. Everytime he is in the same room with him he just gets so nervous he ends up embarrassing himself more than once

Look, I may be projecting onto him but I KNOW THIS MAN AND HE HAS HIS JAW FUCKED UP FROM CLENCHING IT TOO MUCH

like I have anxiety and my jaw is dislocated cause ever since I was a kid I was always clenching my jaw while sleeping or unconsciously while going about my day so I just know that someone like him has the same problem

He has definitely popped his jaw and hurted his ear more than once and has ADORABLE CROOKED TEETH CAUSE I DO AND I WANT HIM TOO OKAY?

he is really good at signing but everyone thinks he's not because the few times he has tried to sing in front of someone he fucked up from being too nervous

He knows how to play piano. As matter of fact he has one at home

Prefers wine over beer or cocktails but has a weird ass liking for strong liquors

And BTW he is annoyingly hard to get drunk, this man could get down shot after shot and still be as lucid as ever

Which soap found out by embarrassing himself. König ended up trying to take care for him the whole night cause he felt guilty

When he gets angry is not a pretty scene. He's always so jolly and easy going even if you're rude to him so is hard for him to get angry, but when he snaps this man is not playing around

Smells of fresh laundry and lemon perfume

He is still pretty mad about not being able to be a sniper. Specially because he's good at his job, he knows he is but no one believed in him and his abilities bc of his height and his anxiety

When he was younger everyone always used to talk over him because he had difficulty with speech due to his anxiety

He used to get so frustrated to the point of crying and since no one ever had the patience to listen to him he just used to write on notebooks all the things no one ever wanted to hear

He still does it and has like a lot of diaries filled with rants, thoughts, jokes ecc

When he was younger he used to listen to the FILTHIEST SONGS not knowing what they were about because he didn't understand English well

When he's nervous his accent slips a little bit

He writes letters to his loved ones and specially his s/o when his away from home and has the prettiest handwriting ever

#könig #könig cod #könig cod mw2 #könig cod headcanons #cod headcanons #call of duty mw2 #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #cod mw2 #codmw2 #cod

[literallyjusttoa]

My top 7 Apollo exes from Ancient Greece

DISCLAIMER: Though I have done a lot of research of mythology for this, it is based off of the riordanverse version of Apollo. I won't be acknowledging any awful implications in versions of these myths, not because I don't think they're important, but because it simply isn't a part of riordanverse Apollo's characterization in the books. Also I'm not going to mention Copollo. I love Copollo like the rest of you, but sadly that is a Rick Riordan exclusive, and also technically Commodus is an ex from Ancient Rome, not Ancient Greece :3

Ok with that out of the way lets talk obscure and non-obscure Apollo relationships

7. Apollo & Thyia

This one clocks in at number 7 because I love the idea behind it, but it is the most bare bones relationship myth wise. All we really know is Thyia is a priestess of Dionysus and she and Apollo maybe had a kid once. But like, the idea of Apollo dating his brother's priest? Hilarious, A+ stuff. Also, Thyia isn't just one of Dionysus' priests, she is THE priest of Dionysus. She runs his temple in central greece, is thought to have offered the first sacrifice to him, and might have been the first Maenad? Either way this relationship must have been insane. Also she's a nymph so she's definitely still kicking out there, would love for these two to meet again.

6. Apollo & Hyacinthus

Ok ok I know what y'all are thinking. Number 6?? This is like Apollo's number 1 most tragic relationship of all time!!! And yes as an angst lover I do enjoy the pain this relationship brings our boy, but I just feel like there's not many places to go with this relationship besides what we already have. Like Apollo and Hyacinthus were kind of the perfect couple. Which, like, great for them, but it doesn't give me much space to add anything? I guess, great ship, no notes.

5. Apollo & Hypermnestra (& Oikles)

Ok, half the reason this is here is because her name is Hypermnestra. Slay. But also this is a great place to bring up my favorite little headcanon. In a lot of Apollo's relationships, there will be a child, and myths will have different versions with different fathers. Some say it's Apollo, while other's say it's whoever he dated's husband. In this case, myths disagree on whether Amphiaraus was Apollo's son or the son of Hypermnestra's husband, king Oikles (Oikles??? I love these names). The implication here is infidelity, but I disagree. No, I think every time there's confusion over who parentage it's because Apollo was dating both the woman he's said to be with and her husband, and therefore no one knows who ended up, y'know, fathering the child. Anyways Apollo dated both Hypermnestra and Oikles and you can't convince me otherwise.

4. Apollo & Branchus

I like this relationship because in my mind, I always thought it was Apollo's first. In one version of their myth, it is said that Apollo met Branchus after leaving Delos as a dolphin, which I always thought implied this was soon after he established Delphi, which was really early on. Idk something about a young Apollo accidentally revealing his godliness to this boy he really likes is just so sweet to me. And he makes Branchus into a prophet, which is so cool! These two are cutie-patooties is what I'm saying.

3. Apollo & Kyparissos

C'mon, the man died of grief because his deer died. Throughout ToA we learn that deep down Apollo is a mushy ball of emotions and compassion, and that convinced me that these two spent 75% of their relationship crying over baby animals and pretty people. I love the idea of Apollo dating someone who's honestly just as much of a loser as he is. And while it is sad that Kyparissos is another lover Apollo had to turn into a plant, I have to emphasize again that he died of heartbreak, because his pet deer died.

2. Apollo & Cyrene

Listen, these two are boss bitches and you cannot convince me otherwise. In the same way I like Kyparissos bc I feel like he and Apollo are so similar, I like Cyrene bc I feel like, in a lot of ways, these two are very different. Like, don't get me wrong, Apollo can be strong and wild when he wants to be, but Cyrene wrestles lions. I like to think the time these two spent together really helped each of them grow in their own way, which makes for a really fun and interesting relationship. Also, just like Thyia, Cyrene is sometimes referred to as a nymph, so she could still be out there!

1. Apollo & Admetus

The more I think about these two, the more I love them. Admetus meeting Apollo at his lowest and helping him through it. Apollo falling head over heels as a result and doing everything in his power to repay the man. The two of them still holding such strong affection for each other even decades after the time they had together, to the point that Apollo would mess with fate to extend Admetus' life. Apollo's life is full of turmoil, and this period of it was probably the worst, but despite that, his relationship with Admetus seems so steady. The other gods are said to be embarrassed of Apollo's love of Admetus, and I think it's because Apollo loved him in a way that went directly against the values of the gods. Apollo and Admetus' relationship was defined by service and care, filled with selfless intent and genuine love. While many gods give their lovers gifts and special favors, the idea of actually going into servitude for someone you love is as ungodly as you can get. Apollo spent time with Admetus, and he wasn't possessive of him, helping him to find a wife after their time together was through. I think this relationship is a great example of how Apollo, even in his lowest moments, is a genuine and caring person, and how that often separates him from the rest of his family. Also these two are just cute and they both love cows and they're cows in love.

#trials of apollo #toa apollo #lester papadopoulos #sunny speaks #long post #this idea hit me out of nowhere and I had to do it #shut up sunny #lmk if I convinced yall to ship anything because some of these pairing have given me brainrot

[keravnous]

desperado! ; tangerine/fem!reader (smut 18+)

read pt. 1 here | read pt. 3 here | read pt. 4 here

The Twins are laying low in Amsterdam. Growing bored of being stuck in the hideout all day, Tangerine decides to explore what the shifty parts of the city have to offer at night.

word count: 12,9k

warnings: i mean if atj can dance then tangerine can too, tango dancing bc it's very sexy and steamy ok; car sex, head while driving, oral (male receiving), masturbation (female), fingering, rough and passionate sex, undernegotiated kinks: (light) spanking, daddy kink (once or twice), unprotected sex, choking, pet names, dirty talk, name calling, hotel sex; they steal a car bc why not, short intro from tangerine's pov, small glimpses into his dysfunctionality, rather slow story development at the beginning, i still have very strong feelings about this angry man so please, have this

title is from the song of the same name, desperado by rihanna

the songs they're dancing to are esta noche en vivo by carlos libedinsky and otra luna by narcotango

mel said: kinda sad we didnt get to suck his dick in bathroom b!tch and I said: same

The air is still warm and a little humid despite the late hour, filled with laughter and the sweet, sweet smell of alcohol and marihuana, sweat and summer. Tangerine takes another drag from his cigarette, watches how the smoke curls into the dark sky, illuminated by the colourful lights of the city. He takes a deep breath.

He sighs, relishes in the way his shoulders relax. He feels alive -- again; finally. It's a real relief, has his limbs going a little slack. He had felt anger clawing at his chest for the past week now, the beast inside ripping his skin to shreds and lashing out with its razor-sharp claws - mostly at his brother. But since he had left the flat about an hour ago it has been curled up rather peacefully in his chest, with a satisfied purr in sync with his heartbeat.

Next to him, the water in the canals lays calmly, reflecting the city's lights and echoing the clinking of glasses and music that wafts through the streets. Tangerine passes by a restaurant, people sitting outside under string lights, drinking, chatting, eating and he watches them as he strolls by. They radiate happiness and it catches onto him like a wave, has him smiling at the sight. He takes another drag of his cigarette, enjoys the way the smoke burns in his throat. Jesus Christ, how he had missed this.

There just aren't enough books, good books, that can keep him holed up in a small flat for a whole fucking month. And thus, he had decided to break - well, bend - the rules a little tonight.

Their contact, Henk, had told him about that one spot where one could get anything: from alcohol to various drugs and weapons, maybe even a hitman. If one's lucky. And Tangerine does feel a whole lot of fucking luck pumping through his veins tonight, making him feel a little light-headed, stardust at the heels of his shoes.

His chest feels light and his feet are practically flying over the cobblestones, a smile toying with the corners of his mouth as he lays his head back, watches the illuminated sky above - exhales smoke, inhales the night.

A group of students staggers by, laughing and cheering, passing a bottle of liquor around. His gaze follows them, nostalgia tearing at his heartstrings as he remembers the times when Lemon and him were just that - young and without a care in the world.

Now, their hands are sticky with blood - metaphorically, he had washed his well and thoroughly after last month's job went wrong - and they are both in hiding. Again.

Lemon insisted it would be careless to go out at night, at any time of the day really - "That's bollocks, mate. You can't just go out, can ya? What if they sent someone after us?" -, but especially if it was just to have some fun. Because fuck fun, right?

But, there is nothing else to do anyways, with the way his brain always, always finds a way back to his own recent failure and how it was linked to Bolivia.

Bolivia -- it still leaves him sleepless and shaking sometimes, just like tonight.

Tangerine had been pacing the living room craving a drink until Lemon fell asleep, and then decided that he needed a change of scenery, something to take his mind of the carnage and its debris.

"Yeah, let's just all go fuckin' insane in that flat, huh", Tangerine huffs to himself, looking at his phone. It beeps, signalling him that he is getting closer to his destination. His feet carry him through the streets of Amsterdam, a warm summer breeze rustles his silk shirt and cools his warm skin as he passes by restaurants, bars and closed book and flower shops.

Eventually, he comes to a halt in front of a launderette: Wassen bij Muriel.

The neon lights inside are on, illuminating the sidewalk in a cold white. He blinks. There is no one inside but an old lady behind the counter and a grimly looking man sitting on a plastic stool in the back corner. He can hear faint music coming from behind the glass door.

To an unsuspecting tourist it would look like a rancid shop but to him, it doesn't. Tangerine knows better, has been to a lot of places like this.

"Alright", he says - lets his neck crack once, twice and throws his cigarette away - before pushing the door open, the bell above ringing.

***

You watch your friend leaning down towards the young woman, sitting in a darkened corner. Your father never wanted you to befriend any of his third or fourth row dealers but you never were one to follow rules, always going for the next thrill, the next rush of adrenaline. But tonight, there's been no rush so far, no tingling of your veins - just pure and blank boredom.

You had picked out your favourite dress in the prospect of being offered to dance with a handsome stranger, even ditched on the underwear to make sure the thin fabric hugged your curves nicely, but the men in here are mostly uninteresting, ordinary - simple dealers or lowlife thugs, street criminals that steal money from unwary tourists.

You watch how your friend, with a quick sleight of hand, exchanges cocaine for money, laughing at the woman like she is an old friend and then makes his way back to the bar. He winks at you and squeezes past a young couple, orders himself a drink.

You swirl your glass between your fingers, watching the remaining puddle of wine running up and down its walls - dripping down like blood - and then bring it up to your lips, emptying it in one sip. The taste is warm and full, rich and you close your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to get lost in the strumming of the band's contrabass and the red wine on your tongue. It reminds you of that one time in Bogotá, when you and your father had visited his suppliers - wine and music melting together with the summer heat, having you dream of the jungle, old villages, and the beaches of private islands off the coast.

Your father had dragged you along once more, this time to Amsterdam, despite your pleas not to - "You will have to take over one day and I want you to be prepared" - and you were gladly sneaking away when your friend invited you to spend the night at his favourite bar.

It is a tango joint and a beautiful place, an old basement with low ceilings and a small bar, people and furniture bathed in colourful neon lights. Purple and red are dancing across faces and sweaty bodies - swirling over the dance floor or pressed against the cold walls, tongues shoved into mouths - reflecting off glasses and expensive jewellery.

It is a place where people like you and your friends get together: the upcoming generation of an international crime elite, sons and daughters throwing away their parents’ blood or drug money, getting high and drunk hidden by the shadows of the night, staying awake until the sun rises again. It's a place where people like you mix and mingle with those working for your families, a welcome change to a certain hierarchy at something a civilian would naively call a safe space.

You open your eyes again, as the band starts to play a new song, blinking while your eyes adjust to the dim, colourful lights. There still are couples swirling across the dance floor to the sensual rhythm of the tango, that the small band in the back is playing. You let out a sigh at both, the loneliness and the boredom creeping in on you, and turn around on your barstool to order yourself another drink as --

Your shoulder suddenly connects heavily with something firm and warm - triggering a muttered Fuckin' hell - and a second later the man, who you just bumped into, turns around. He looks pissed, left eye twitching.

"'M sorry", you say quickly, a little taken aback by both: his anger and his beauty. The former doesn't seem to last very long, with his lips tilting up a little, eyes gleaming mischievously while they dance over your frame.

"Apology accepted, love", he has a strong northern British accent, like some of your father's business partners do.

But he is arguably a lot more handsome than any of them are. Dark, combed, and slicked back hair that curls right over his shoulders building a nice contrast to his light blue, short-sleeved silk shirt, unbuttoned down to his belly - exposing golden jewellery. The necklace shines warmly against his pale skin, glimmering purple in the dim lights.

It might be the alcohol and the loneliness but you really, really want to just dart one hand out, run it over his chest and his neck, feeling his warmth and the few locks of chest hair, smelling and tasting the scent of summer on his skin.

You wonder what he does, what his profession is. The 70s porn-stache, vintage Rolex and golden rings scream Miami and you can't help but imagine him in the hot sun, bare chested, blood on his hands - red red red - cutting open bricks of cocaine -

"May I get you a drink, love?", his voice pulls you out of your daydreams and you blink. He must've caught you staring.

You know, that men like him usually mean trouble. And yet, you can hear yourself say: "That'd be very nice, thank you."

He lifts two fingers up, signalling the man behind the bar that he wants to order something and you notice that his knuckles are bruised. Blue and green mixing with the red of the scab, partially healed. There are scars on his forearm, meandering between his tattoos and up up up his arm below the soft, expensive silk of his shirt.

The goosebumps that erupt on your skin are nothing but pleasant as you immediately know what type of man he is. Everyone in here is on the market for something: drugs, love, sex, guns - but rarely does one sell murder. Real, cold-blooded murder. Ruthless, fast, dirty.

He's trying to hide it but watching him as he discusses the menu with the bartender, it sticks out like a sore thumb: the well-mannered gestures crash with his fucked-up hands, the way he's dressed like a drug-selling pimp refuses to fit in with his sugar-coated talk and the way he moves can't hide a lingering anger, like a raging beast pacing in a cage.

It is a carefully put together façade, but it's no use against you. You know men like him and you know them well. They don't scare you - quite the opposite, and thus the pure and utter danger he emits has excitement tingling in your stomach. As fucked up as it is: it makes you want him - adrenaline kicking in, shooting a tingle right between your legs.

He turns around again and you lean forward a little, deciding to make your move soon.

"'S a Mezcal Margarita alright with you, love?", he asks and you throw him your most charming smile, nodding.

"We'll take two then, mate", he nods and slides a few bucks over the counter, watches the bartender pouring liquid into a cocktail tumbler.

"Sooo", the man turns around towards you and grins, shows some teeth as his hand vanishes in the pocket of his linen trousers, pulls out a cigarette and lights it up. He's taking a looong deliberate drag, puffing out the smoke, "What's your name, sweetie?"

"Y/N", you reply, gaze dropping to his lips and back up, where his gaze catches yours. He has beautiful eyes, blue like the fucking sea and the purple neon lights make them glow with mischief and smugness - dark and oddly promising, inviting - framed by long lashes.

One of your fingers brushes over his hand, that is resting on the counter. The wooden surface is sticky with half-dried alcohol. His gaze holds yours while he takes another drag of his cigarette. You just might lose yourself in the hue that dances over his eyes.

"And you are?", you say, just loud enough to be audible over the music.

His gaze drops to your fingers that are brushing over his golden rings and he chuckles: "Don't ya try stealing those, sugar, I know that fuckin' trick", and you smile innocently, as he leans in a little, "Name's Tangerine, love." There are cheers erupting from the dancefloor, the rhythm of the music picking up.

You pout playfully and his eyes dance over your face, glimmering mischievously. "Oh", you sigh, "And here I was, thinking you'd may even give me your real name."

"Can't, love, m'sorry."

"Mh pity -- who did you kill?"

"Who said I killed someone?", he's dangerously close now, voice a low rumble.

"Your hands", your fingers dance over the crust of his knuckles and his eyes gleam. For a moment he says nothing and then, towering over your sitting form, voice low and rough:

"Aren't ya afraid o'me, love?"

"Terribly", and he grins at that, his eyes holding yours captive.

"Bet you are", Tangerine hums, barely audible and sticks his cigarette between his lips, one hand darting up, has his thumb gently grazing over your chin.

The touch is nice, soft and gentle but firm, in full control. It makes your chest tingle, sends a wave of pleasure through your body. His eyes flick over your face and you find yourself growing a little hot under his gaze. You wonder is he's going to lean in, ditch his cigarette and --

The bartender places two glasses in front of you and it makes you snap out of it for a second, noticing how close Tangerine got. His thighs are touching your knees and his face is so so close to yours, noses mere inches apart.

"Thanks, mate", Tangerine says, pulls the glasses closer. You watch him - slender fingers getting a little wet with condensed water, cigarette between his lips, chain and bracelet rustling with the sudden movement. There's a thin film of sweat glistening on his chest and it has your thighs clench with raw and utter want, wanting to put your lips onto the firm the muscles, licking his skin clean.

The way his body still presses against your knees, is electrifying and you decide to invite him in more. You let your knees fall apart, making way for him. His gaze drops down and he chuckles to himself but moves in nonetheless, one of his hands gently coming to a rest on your thigh, holding you close and in place. The touch shoves the soft, flowy silk of your cowl dress aside, the slit in the fabric exposing your thigh. Tangerine's hand is warm on your skin, rings pressing cooly against your hot flesh, as he starts groping you - thumb digging into your thigh and you gasp quietly.

"Been wantin' to ask -- what's a pretty girl like you doin' in a place like this, huh?", he says, cigarette bobbing up and down in the corner of his mouth.

"My friend sells blow here", you say truthfully - not a full lie and yet not the complete truth, but you know better than to trust a stranger with your ties to your family's business - and piqued interest flickers through his gaze.

Tangerine then, very languidly, takes another looong drag from his cigarette and taps some of the ash on the counter, holding your gaze with his own. "D'you sell yourself, love?"

You laugh at that, violently shaking your head. "Hell, no."

He chuckles, eyes roaming over your face. "Well, looks like I got myself a good girl, then eh?", he knows what he is doing, voice low and deep and you swallow.

"I wouldn't say so", you whisper, "But why don't you come a bit closer and find out?"

Tangerine flashes a grin, shows his bright bright teeth, one of his hands coming up and stroking his moustache while he shakes his head in disbelief.

It's stupid. Very fucking stupid. He shouldn't. He should get the fuck out of here - quickly. This is dangerous. She might be, too.

Instead, he looks up again. Ah, fuck it - fuck the rules. Lemon will get it - maybe. Ultimately, he will, simply has to - with the beast inside rattling the cage.

Tangerine leans in, his hand on your thigh sneaking up, making its way over your hip, your side and then cups your body, thumb digging into your flesh underneath your tit. Your heartbeat picks up as he pulls you close and you nearly yelp, scooting forward on the barstool, your hand coming up and grasping his forearm, holding on to him. "Well, why don't we fuckin' drink to that then, love?", he rasps, the hand resting on the bar pulls your glass in.

With a shaking hand you take it, fingers closing in around the cool glass and you watch him raising his, bud of cigarette nearly touching it. He is exhilarating, demanding and firm underneath the attire of a gentleman and it has your head swimming, wetness pooling between your legs. Excitement bubbles up in your chest, wondering where the night may, will lead.

"Cheers, love", Tangerine smirks and winks at you, both your glasses clink. He is still so so close, your knees still hitting his hips and his tongue runs over the edge, licks the salt away slowly, playfully until he downs half the Margarita in one go, like it's water.

You raise one brow, carefully taking a sip. The salt on the edge of the glass tingles on your lips and the liquor burns nicely in your throat as you take another. It's a hellishly strong cocktail and you wonder if he's a regular drinker. A lot of people like him - call them what you like, assassins, killers, hitmen - are.

Tangerine eyes the glass in his hand, weighs it from left to right a little, then nods to himself in approval while you take another sip. He instead downs the other half of the cocktail and puts the glass back on the counter. It's a quick, routinely movement and you come to realize that you may be right. You decide to not give it too much thought, because he's hot and he freed you from the boredom threatening to swallow you whole tonight and because everything about him has your blood singing with the gleeful promise of adrenaline. You put your glass next to his and look up at him through your lashes. He catches the invitation.

Tangerine throws his cigarette into his empty glass and then leans in again. The tip of his nose brushing over yours, the sensual music entangling both of you as his gaze flicks over your face.

You hook one leg around his waist and he moves in closer, pressing yourself against him, one hand on his arm - to anyone looking over you might even seem like an actual couple, enjoying the night out - and hunger burns in his eyes. His lips brush over yours and you know he's toying with you, keen on him leaning in to fucking kiss you already --

The music stops.

There's sudden silence as the band passes a bottle of whiskey around and the two of you freeze, blinking dumbfoundedly. The silence is odd, stalling both of you but you can't help it, feeling like drowning in the dark dark blue of his eyes, shimmering with green in the purple light. You can hear Tangerine breathe quietly with him being so utterly close to you and it's nice, comfortingly human and you can't help but smile against his lips still hovering over yours, a gentle gesture that is being reciprocated by him.

You're a little dizzy with it too, the alcohol, lack of fresh air and his body warmth mixing together, making you a little unsteady. He has pure and raw want tingling in your belly, your hand on his upper arm clenching around the firm muscles a little, thumb brushing over the soft material. And then, just as the music picks up again, his lips brush against yours: "You don't happen to wanna dance, do ya, love?"

"Fuck yes, thought you'd never ask", and Tangerine laughs, a deep, pleasant sound that rumbles in his chest and offers you his hand.

Yours runs down down down his arm and closes around his, while he's making some room for you to slip off of the barstool and then he's pulling you close again - your body pressing smack against his side as he's dragging you along to the makeshift dance floor.

The crowd still cheers, applauds the band and the bandoneon plays the few first chords of a new song. Tangerine gently takes your hand in his, thumb cupping your index and middle finger as your palm rests against his. His other hand sneaks around your waist and rests and the small of your back, holding you close. He looks at you and you feel like drowning in his eyes, pupils blown wide and you wonder when he'll show first signs of being drunk, with the way you already feel a little warm, light-headed. In a few minutes, maybe an hour you'll learn that he holds his liquor way better than you hold your own.

He is even closer to you now than before at the bar and now you can smell his perfume through the thick cloud of smoke that wavers through the basement's air - he smells nice, deep and rich of citrus and a little of vanilla and cigarettes, reminds you of the summer you've spent in Palermo once.

Tangerine gently places one hand below your shoulder and yours comes up, rests on his shoulder, just as he starts to move to the music. He takes a step backwards, guiding your forward and gently guides you through the crowd - a steady back and forth in rhythm with the tango.

Tangerine's hand still holds yours, guides your arm until it is stretched out and then it abandons your hand, runs down down down your arm very gently, pads of his fingers brushing over your soft skin, hairs on your arms rising. A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers cradle back between yours, a smile tugging at his lips.

One of his legs pushes between yours while he manoeuvres you backwards, hand on your waist holding you close. Tangerine presses himself against you, heat radiating off of his body with both your arms still stretched out and you grip his hand tightly, leaning back. You arch your back, raising one leg and hooking it around his waist as his gaze locks with yours. You can feel his crotch pressing against yours, with the way the skirt of your dress hikes up your legs. He is warm and a little hard already, has the breath hitching in your throat and arousal igniting your loins.

Tangerine leans down a little, lips still curled up in smile and then pulls you up like you weigh nothing and you stretch your legs in a delicate, slight split as he twirls you around, your chest firmly resting against his.

His arm presses onto your back, holds you close until your feet touch the ground once more and he immediately guides you sideways with a few long and slow strides until he comes to a halt. One of your arms wraps around his shoulders as he holds you close and you stretch your leg out, your heel gliding forward over the concrete floor of the basement, stretching your leg out in front of you and then gently sliding it backwards into a deep lunge, your body following the movement. You lean back and Tangerine follows, leans down and towers over your body.

He holds you there for a moment, chest rising and falling, brows furrowed a little before he carefully helps you back up - immediately embracing your body once more.

The music speeds up and so does he while guiding you over the dancefloor, face close to yours with unbreaking eye contact as you swirl over the concrete.

At the next strum of the contrabass, you take a step back, arching your back. Very playfully you sway your hips, shoulders loosely following while one of hands rests on his forearm, the other lays in his hand, feet tapping the floor rhythmically with the movement of your hips.

You know that he has a perfect view of your body, your hard nipples being visible through the thin fabric of your dress. His gaze drops down, watches how the silk plays with your curves, eyes growing a little darker. You move in and Tangerine pulls you close, your hand intertwined with his resting on his chest and his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, moustache tingling. "No underwear, I reckon, love?", he hums, the fingers of his other hand brushing over your waist.

And you shake your head, whispering: "No, none", and it has his eyebrows shooting up in surprise, a low chuckle escaping his throat. "Fuck me", he breathes and holds you close while moving over the dancefloor, one hand gently but firmly resting on your ass cheek, hiking the hem of your dress up a little.

The touch ignites you and you press against him, leaning in, nose brushing over his jaw, eyelids fluttering. You are pressed against each other, movements slowing down and blooming into a languid sensuality in dance: long strides, toying with him a little - turning your head away, stretching your arm out, only for his hand to gently caress it - feet wrapping around his calf, leg pushing between his. Tangerine is patient with the little game you are playing, unerringly keeping the lead and you in your place.

You wonder if he fucks like he dances. It makes your skin going hot, imagination running wild and breath hitching.

The song ebbs and the crowd applauds and the two of you come to a halt as well, but not parting, not partaking in the celebration of the band. You are clawing to him, breath going fast and heavy and so does his, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. His hand momentarily rejects your waist to brush through his hair and then returns. His touch is firm, a little rough and you sigh contently.

Some people are looking your way, intrigued by what got over the two of you, enticed by each other and oblivious to the surrounding world. It's a dangerous thing - letting your guard down, for both of you - but you couldn't care less.

Tangerine smirks down at you and licks his lips. "D'ya know what ya do to me, dove?", he says quietly and you know but you feel the same, and thus, your hand brushes over his shoulder to his neck and you nestle your bods against his.

You wonder if he can feel your raising heartbeat, smell the lust and the excitement spreading in your body. You look up at him, fingers burying themselves in his locks.

"Mhm - do you?", you reply just as quietly and Tangerine chuckles, eyes falling shut.

Your bodies stay like that, closely pressing against each other with the music picking back up. You gently rest your forehead on his temple, leaning onto him as he holds you close. You can't help it, you just want to fucking touch him and your hand runs over his shoulder to the front, gently moves up his throat and then cups his jaw, fingers brushing over the clean-shaven skin. It's soft and warm and you can feel, hear him take a deep breath.

Moving across the floor slowly, Tangerine's body turns into an anchor for your long, ardent strides; his strong arms holding you up during each turn, muscles twitching beneath your touch. He is so so close to you, so warm - each one of his steps lingering with desire and it washes over you like a wave, has the hairs on your body standing up.

You sink against him, falling into his embrace, arms clinging around his neck and his hand is pressed on your shoulder, the other remains in the air uselessly as he looks down in surprise, brows furrowed. He can see, feel your chest heaving, a quiet whimper escaping your mouth.

Then, his lips curl into a smug grin.

Tangerine carefully twirls you around, hands gripping your waist and pulling you closer. Your back rests against his chest and you can feel the tip of his nose brushing through your hair as his hands move over your body - one resting on your belly, the other gently cupping you below your breast, feeling the way your heart races against your ribcage, and his touch sends shivers down your spine, has arousal shooting right between your legs. You remain this way for a few beats, the blood in your veins pumping with the rhythm of the music, feeling his strong frame pressing against you - his breath on your temple and his cologne wrapping you in. His body radiates warmth and you can feel his chest rising against your back, his hardening dick pressing against your ass.

Lust tingles in your stomach looking up at him and, at the next strum of the contrabass, you take his hand and twirl out of his embrace. Tangerine follows and pulls you back in and your hand crawls up his arm, another one resting on his neck. His gaze locks with yours as he leans down, tip of his nose brushing against yours.

The hands on your back keeps you close, a dark shadow resting over his eyes, turning them into a deep deep sea. He slowly guides you forward with two long strides and then firmly hooks one arm around you, lunges backward a little and you follow his movement, bending your leg and resting it against his groin. His hard cock presses against your thigh, and he leans in, lips brushing over yours before straightening both of you back up, heels of your shoes connecting firmly with the ground. Tangerine swirls you over the floor and manoeuvres you through the dancing couples, until he eventually, when the space arises, grabs your hips once more. You let yourself fall, upper body leaning back delicately, enthralled by his strength and the way he guides you through the dance, and he pulls you back up.

Your hand runs up his chest, fingers clawing at the silk as your gazes lock once more. You suck in a few breaths, his scent clouding up your mind, hand running higher and higher, thumb cupping his cheek and fingers resting in his hair behind his ear, earring pressing cooly against your skin.

His lips are slightly agape, eyes you up and down, while his hand presses you close. "Yeah, fuck, you wanna take this elsewhere, love?", he rasps and you nod, eyelids fluttering with the hidden promise.

All the while Tangerine navigates you through the crowd, he holds you close, blood pumping in your ears with the way the music makes your chest vibrate, his scent clouding up your mind - only him him him.

As soon as you are out on the street Tangerine is onto you again, pulls you close in the bright lights of the laundrette and kisses you like a starving man. His arms wrap around your waist, pressing you against him, tits flush against his chest, as his tongue licks into your mouth. Your hands run up his arms, one of them curling his neck and the other cupping his jaw. You can feel his hard dick through his linen slacks and it makes you hot all over, wetness pooling between your legs. You break the kiss, heaving against his lips.

"Fuck", Tangerine huffs, hand on your waist wandering down, cupping one of your ass cheeks. You mewl, eyelids fluttering. You're desperate to touch him, for him to fuck you.

"My hotel's nearby", you whisper and it sounds so fucking needy, "We could take the tram?"

"Yeah sure, lead the way", and you do, stealing another long and sloppy, hungry kiss from him and then he's pulling you close, holds you by his side as the two of you rush down the streets of Amsterdam - heels clicking, sweet nothings on the tip of your tongues. Some people turn their heads, voyeurism kicking in at the oddly hot couple with the air around them cracking with their energy, watching how the two of you rush by - the woman giggling and clearly a little drunk, hands roaming all over the man's chest, while he holds her close, thick British accent wrapping her in.

That is, until he stops dead in his tracks next to an alley on a rather empty street.

"Oi, wait a bloody minute, love -- would'ya look at that", Tangerine looks down an alleyway and you lean in closer, trying to get a look at what he's seeing, peaking over his shoulder on the tip of your toes. His hand is still resting on your waist, fingers splayed out.

"What?", there's nothing. Just cars parked beneath a warmly glowing streetlight in a dark alley.

"That", his finger darts out and points at a beige convertible.

"I -- that's a car?"

He looks a you, a little offended.

"That's not just a car, love. That's a 1966 Cadillac Coupe DeVille."

You blink, watching him while he eyes the vehicle, fingers brushing over his stache absent-mindedly.

"What are you thinking 'bout?", and it doesn't even take him a second to reply: "I wanna steal it."

Well, that's a surprise. "You wanna steal the car?"

"Yeah, I got this fuckin' thing -- 's kinda like compulsion, innit?"

You raise your eyebrows and he looks at you, lips curling up in an amused smile that's looks an awful lot like Sugar I can't change it, now can I? and before he can come up with something witty to go along with it, you say: "Yeah fuck, alright. Let's do it."

He laughs, eyes you up and down. "Ya naughty little girl, eh."

You can feel your skin growing hot, hand brushing over his forearm, leaning in a little. His eyes gleam. "Show me what you can do, babe", and he does, wraps one arm around your hips and strolls over to the car, carefully eyeing the alley.

The windows are rolled down and he grins. "That's an easy one, love, watch it", his hand brushes over your hip and the touch has goosebumps erupting on your arms, running down down your back and you nod - fuck yes, you'll watch.

Tangerine leans against the driver side's door and reaches inside through the rolled down window. You don't know what exactly he's doing but you can see the way his muscles work underneath the blue silk, as he grabs the handle and then, suddenly lifts the door a little out of its frame. The lock bursts, and for a second your muscles tense, body anticipating alarms going off and reading to flee.

Nothing happens; no sirens erupting - just the door swinging open lazily.

Apparently; obviously this is not his first time stealing a car. The thought of him just taking what he wants does something funny to your stomach.

You peak inside. It is an old-timer, with one large seating bench in the front, instead of two seats. Tangerine is holding the door open for you.

"After you, Lady", and he fucking winks at you.

Crawling onto the seats you make sure to make a little show out of it. You can feel his gaze roaming over your body as you bend down, until you eventually sit down in the middle of the front row seat. Tangerine sits down next to you and you immediately close the distance between the two of you, pulling one leg up, knee resting firmly on the soft beige leather and pressing against his thigh. The fabric of your dress hikes up, the slit exposing your leg up up up to your groin.

The sight distracts him for second, as you throw a look over your shoulder and out of the rear window, into the night. The alley still lays silent and deserted - but for how much longer? Tangerine watches you tensing up next to him.

"Easy, love, just a minute", he huffs and pulls an envelope out of his pocket, takes out a set of lockpicks.

"Oh, so you just carry that around with you?", you blurt out, blinking.

"Yeah", he says casually, bends down a little, trying to get a good look beneath the steering wheel.

If you were to be more of a thief and less of a drug lord's lazy daughter, you'd be able to identify his choice as a Lishi lockpick.

You watch him as he carefully sticks it into the keyhole of the ignition, slooowly starts to move the tool forward and feeling for the contact of the wafer. Quiet clicking sounds fill the humid air.

You can tell, that Tangerine is showing off a little, trying to impress you with speed and precision. He squints his eyes a little, brows furrowing and eyeing the small lock while carefully turning it clockwise.

It jams.

"Bastard", Tangerine curses underneath, pulls the reader of the lockpick back and carefully feels for the missing contact, tuuurns it --

The engine jolts alive, purrs lowly and the headlights snap on.

"There ya go", he mutters, "Piece 'o piss, eh?"

You snort at his vulgar cockney but you must agree - it did not take him more than two to three minutes, from breaking the lock to starting the engine. It shouldn't, but it does turn you on a little.

Tangerine is slamming the door shut and whips out his phone, handing it over to you. "Type in the address, love, would ya?"

You do and then quickly discard it into the cupholder - you want him and your fingertips tingle with it, wanting to touch him and being touched by him. The female voice - uncanny valley personified - of the google maps assistant pipes up and if you weren't so very fucking intoxicated by him you would laugh.

Instead, a fresh wave of desperate lust takes over you and your hands are onto him again in no time, one crawling up his arm, the other resting on his thigh and feeling his muscles work as he backs the Cadillac up. Tangerine chuckles, throws you a quick look before he is steering the car out of the alley.

You are aching for him to touch you, to be closer to you, hand tugging at his shirt a little while you lean in, nose brushing over the side of his throat.

"Jesus, love", he huffs, "Can't keep ya'self together, can ya?"

And you mewl, shake your head and then your lips are closing in around the exposed crook of his neck. Your tongue laps over the sweaty, hot skin, tasting him - his cologne mixing bitterly with his sweat and you hum, gently sucking at his soft skin.

"Fuckin' hell", Tangerine's right hand abandons the steering wheel, coming to a rest on your exposed thigh brushing over your skin. The tone of his voice has your head swimming, spurring you on, encouraging you. Your eyelids flutter as your tongue comes loose:

"Want me to suck your cock while driving?", you say, looking at him - the tips of your fingers are playfully brushing over his shoulder, silk of his shirt rustling under the feather-light touch.

He snorts, shakes his head a little with disbelief, before looking back at you. It seems to click.

"Bloody hell, you're serious, aren't ya?", and you blush a little. You can see the way his Adam’s apple bops as he swallows, eyes aimlessly darting over the road, considering.

The google maps assistant pipes up again, chirps out the directions and then falls silent again.

"Yeah, no, that's a very lovely idea", he rasps, and then: "C'mon love, get to it."

And you do, mouth watering at the same time your sight drops down to his linen slacks, the fabric wrapping around his muscular thighs nicely and pressing firmly to his crotch, exposing the outlines of his hard dick straining it.

Your hand wanders up his leg - feeling his muscles twitch as he hammers down the gas pedal, racing by the light switching from yellow to green - and then sour fingers close in around his cock. It is large and hot through the fabric and just feeling it has fresh arousal pooling between your legs, making you hum, before rubbing his bulge through his trousers. Tangerine's right hand leaves your thigh and comes to a rest on your neck, thumb rubbing over your warm skin and making way for you, giving you some space and encouraging you further.

It's a nice, somewhat patronizing touch that is pushing all the right buttons, has you quivering with excitement.

You make quick work of his slacks, pulling the zipper down - already bowing down a little, stretching your lower leg out on the seat behind you - until you open the fly up. There's a damp stain on his dark silk boxers and your mouth fucking waters, before you pull the hem down. His cock springs free lazily and your breath hitches.

Tangerine's cock is large, cut and a little curved, resting between neatly trimmed pubic hair - vein at the bottom pulsing and the tip already flushed, precum glistening in the low light of the passing street lamps.

You can't wait to suck it, taste it, feel it inside of you -- you are fucking hungry for it, spit pooling around your tongue and heart beating in your chest. Arching your back while bowing down between his lower body and the steering wheel, you put your lips onto his dick, kissing from the base to the top, his musky scent wrapping you in, clouding your mind. You can hear him hum, a nice and deep sound, and the city rushing by through the rolled down window.

Your tongue flicks over the head of his dick, lapping at the precum, circling it. The way he tastes - salt and musk - has your head swimming a little, wetness pooling between your legs.

It makes your brain go mushy, hazy and one of your hands brushes over his thigh, desperate to being closer tohim, to make it feel good for him, caressing the warm skin beneath your touch before you blink up at him.

"Fuck, you got a nice cock", you nearly moan as your tongue betrays your brain, impatiently opening your mouth and letting him slide in a little, feeling him pressing hard and hot against your tongue.

"Shit", Tangerine laughs roughly, hand grabbing your neck as his dick twitches against your tongue, "D'ya even hear yourself speak, girl? Fuck."

You smile to yourself, a little coy, and you start to move your hand up up up his muscular thigh, palming his balls through the linen and then grabbing the base of his cock, slowly jerking him. Tangerine groans, breathing loudly, the city passing by.

Spit runs down his dick over taking him in deeper, pools between your fingers and you flick your wrist, moving your hand in rhythm with your tongue.

The car comes to a halt at the next red light, as Tangerine hits the brakes carefully. Your eyelids flutter and then your gaze darts up, meets his while you are releasing his dick from your mouth a little.

Tangerine moans deeply as tongue swirling around the thick head of his dick once more, his gaze boring into yours. "Isn't that just a lovely sight", he groans, right hand brushing through your hair, while the left grabs the steering wheel hard.

Tangerine watches you, traffic light long forgotten, how your tongue licks over his cock, your eyes looking up at him through your lashes. "You fuckin' minx -- ya do like behavin' like a slut, don't ya", and you smile against his cock, a quiet Uh-huh leaving your lips, before they close in around the tip of his dick.

His eyelids flutter as you start to suck, bobbing your head a little, tongue rubbing over the tip of his cock. "Fuckin' hell", he puffs his cheeks and throws his head back a little, exhales theatrically. The traffic light switches from yellow to green and you let him sink deeper into your mouth - the engine roars. You are certain he's close to breaking the speed limit, veins bursting with adrenaline and testosterone but you couldn't care less, the musky taste of his cock hazing your mind, lust taking over.

You feel yourself growing wet, cunt aching and you surrender to yourself, complying to your body's wishes, as one of your hands slooowly dips between your legs and underneath the hem of your dress. Your fingers brush up your thighs and over your slick folds, mentally thanking yourself for not putting any underwear on, mostly due to the unbearable heat and your skin-tight dress - but it sure does come in handy now, too. Your index finger flicks over your clit, just as his cock slides deeper into your mouth.

It feels fucking nice, the way Tangerine's dick is hard and heavy and hot on your tongue, his taste and scent engulfing you, the way you rub your clit has lust spreading through your body, moaning around his cock.

And then suddenly, Tangerine hits the breaks, hand hammering down on the horn. One of your hands darts out, barely catching onto the dashboard as you are thrown forward. Blood rushes in your ears, hastily sucking in a few breaths through your nose while you sputter around his cock.

The maps assistant chimes up in that second, reminding the driver that he will need to go right at the next intersection but --

"Ya fuckin' prick, imma fuckin' shoot ya in the fuckin' head ya stupid twat -", Tangerine yells and your head immediately pipes up, abandoning his dick and looking out of the windshield. Tangerine is just speeding up, passing by the car in front of him, angrily looking inside. "Ya dirty fuckin' chav, I got a right fuckin' lady with me 'ere, ya git", he spits and the man slowly turns his head. First, he looks at Tangerine, a cascade of insults flying his way and then he looks at you, smudged mascara and spit on your chin, your lips wet with it. You can see the wheels in his head turning, eyes growing wide as they drop down to one of your hands - the one that is still holding Tangerine's cock - vanishing between his legs. The man blinks and Tangerine flashes him the finger, before speeding by.

"Fuck about -- that fuckin' arsehole, love, could've killed ya drivin' like that", he grumbles, throws him one last look in the mirror, "Seriously, where did that prick get his license, the bloody fuckin' lottery?"

Tangerine's eye twitches and you can see his pulse speeding up, aorta pressing thickly against his neck, pumping. He is like a force of nature and a mental image of him, covered in bruises, blood and sweat flashes before your eyes - chest heaving and knuckles bruised, hair curling and framing his face like a halo, dripping with blood.

"You're so fuckin' hot when you're angry", you mumble and then you're bending down again, tongue licking over his cock, from the base all the way up the top, flicking around its head and then gliiiding back down.

A growl, a real fucking growl, leaves his chest, hand on your neck tightening. "You better get fuckin' back to it, love, Jesus fuckin' Christ", his voice is coarse and it gets you going, makes you wet wet wet and has your head diving back in, tongue lolling out of your mouth as his dick slides back in.

"Atta girl, fuck", he groans and then his hips jolt up, pushing his dick deep into your mouth and you hum around it. You start to bob your head up and down, meeting his thrusts - your hand abandons the dashboard to clutch his thigh, nails digging into the flesh a little.

Tangerine moans at both, your hot and wet mouth sucking him off and the slight pain that blooms in his thigh, dangerously mixing with the anger pulsing in his chest and he throws his head back.

"Just like that, fuckin' hell love", his hips buck, shoving himself deeper into your mouth. The sudden intrusion has you choking a little as he hits the back of your throat, spit gathering around the corners of your mouth while you sputter around his dick - jaw going slack and his hand finding its way into your hair, fisting it as he starts to fuck into your mouth.

Holding your head in place his cock hits the back of your throat, steals your breath. Your nose is buried in his pubes, inhaling his scent - sweat and musk - more saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth, wetting his locks. You relax your throat and whimper around his dick, the way he uses you has fresh wetness spreading between your folds, squelching sounds filling the air as your finger is joined by a second, rubbing tight circles over your clit.

You moan around his cock, strangled noises escaping your throat while your rock back against your fingers, choking around the head of his cock hitting your throat.

"Shh, shh shh", he tuts, a little breathless, "Daddy's got ya, mh pretty girl? Lemme just--"

Tangerine's right hand lets go off your hair and then you can feel it sneak past your back, a feather-light touch brushing over the silk of your dress. It travels further and then grabs your ass, the sudden rough touch has you moaning around his dick once more. Your eyelids flutter as he pulls the fabric up up up, fists it and exposes you to whoever or whatever may rush past the passenger side's window. Your fingers speed up at the thought while his hand kneads the flesh of your cheeks.

"Fuckin' pretty", he hums, taking another quick look at the way your head bobs up and down his cock, "All over my cock like that, pretty fuckin' slut."

His hand wanders further down and before you can process it, one of his fingers circles your hole, feeling your slick and your plump folds. "Jesus Christ", he nearly groans, "You just love sucking cock, don't ya?"

That you do, whining around his base as the thick head of his dick hits the back of your throat again, with your fingers still working your clit. "Let me help you with that, love", and with that he pushes one finger in, up to his golden onyx ring, nestles it snugly between your hot walls. They clench around him and the sensation - the lingering promise of more - has you squirming a little.

Tangerine gives you what you want, need - finger curling a little, digits brushing over your spongy hot walls, before he slooowly pulls it back out. It circles your hole once more, quickly joined by a second, before he pushes them in again, starting to fuck you fast.

You moan, feet kicking a little and eyes tearing up at the sensation, with his dick pushing further into your throat and your fingers rubbing your clit, quickly has your muscles clench and cunt squirting.

"Yeah, just right 'ere, love, huh? Gettin'ya all loose 'n wet f'me? Such a good girl, aren't ya?", obscene sounds fill the air as he fucks your slick back into you, bottoms his fingers out, rubbing over the spot that has you seeing stars.

Tangerine moans deep in his chest as his cock starts to fuck into your mouth again and you let him use your throat gladly while his fingers pump in and out of your cunt, accompanied by the way your fingers flick over your clit rapidly.

The lack of fresh oxygen has you bucking against his hand, choking and sputtering around his cock that rams deeply in your throat but your stomach still flutters with it, lust igniting your loins and limbs tingling with it.

You can feel the muscles in your abdomen clenching, heart racing in your chest. Your fucking close and he seems to notice, too, his moans barely reaching your ears through the blood pumping and engine roaring. Tangerine nestles his fingers deep deep inside of you, rubbing over your walls and the spot that has you seeing stars, eyes falling shut and moaning against his cock.

It is all too much and your chest heaves as you finally cum, muscles clenching around his fingers, hips stuttering. His dick pulls back a little, tip resting hot and heavy against your tongue and then, his movements still.

"Open up your pretty mouth, doll, lemme see", he rasps, barely keeps an eye out to the street and you comply, fucked out mind making everything a little hazy, a little slow. Your jaw goes slack as you open your mouth, giving him a perfect view of his dick resting on your tongue.

Tangerine looks at you: mascara pooling beneath your eyes, lips swollen and red and jaw wet with spit and then comes too, shoots ropes of hot cum into your mouth. He watches the way it paints your tongue white, some of it landing on your upper lip, slooowly dripping down, running over your chin.

You swallow and then your tongue darts out, licks over your lips and then darts out, licks his cock clean, too.

Slowly, with your mind still foggy and limbs a little heavy already, you get back up. Your fingers brush through his remaining cum on your chin, wiping it away and letting them slip into your mouth, licking them clean. "Jesus, love", Tangerine's voice is a little coarse, gaze darting back and forth between your mouth and the street, as he carefully pulls his fingers out of you and your body closer instead.

You yelp, pressing yourself onto him, of your knees resting between his spread legs. None of you fucking care anymore, lust tugging at your brains dangerously, daringly. His hand, fingers still wet with your juices, brushes over your waist, grabs your ass and you lean in, lick over his throat, tasting his sweat and cologne.

"Can't wait for you to fuck me", you rasp, hands brushing over his chest, his necklace jingling, down down down, hand brushing over his cock and carefully putting it away, his clothing back in place.

Tangerine huffs, google assistant chiming out a direction, indicator clicking loudly as he sets it and then his hand comes up quickly, grabs your chin hard and holds your head in place. You look at him, deer in the headlights, holding your breath and then he's pulling you close, locks his lips with yours. He can taste himself on your tongue licking into your mouth, pulls you close.

You don't know how you made it to the fucking hotel alive, with Tangerine's hands roaming over your body, lips locking occasionally while he was speeding down the streets, cutting corners and red lights.

The two of you barely make it through the lobby and into the elevator, until Tangerine is onto you once more, presses your back flat against the cold, bronze metal. "I'll fuck ya so good, love", his dick is already hard again, pressing against you through the linen of his trousers and the satin of your dress, "'S gon' be all you'll be thinkin'bout for the next weeks." In a little more than an hour you will come to realize that he is right. You will be thinking about it for weeks. But now, there are only his lips roaming over your throat, occupying your mind and letting you drift back to a hazy, lustful state, with his hands feeling up your hips, your waist.

Eventually, the elevator piiings lazily and the two of you rush out it, like you are on the run from your own lust, hand clutching his as you quickly make your way down the hall to your suite. You unlock the door and turn the dimmed lights on inside. The room's just like you left it, guns and cash on the coffee table, soft light coming from the bedroom on the left. The window there is still opened, a soft breeze rolling in through the light curtains.

Tangerine throws the door shut behind himself and immediately grabs you by your waist, pulls you onto him, hand on your back on your ass as he leans down, devours you with a kiss. His tongue pushes into your mouth while he manoeuvres you backwards through your suite. Your hands dart out, catching the doorframe of the bedroom and you grab it hard, using it as leverage as you push back against him, your crotch rubbing against his. Tangerine grins against your lips and grabs your hips hard, makes you moan into the kiss.

He breaks it, chest heaving a little. "Fuck, love, imma ruin ya." Your breath hitches at that and your hands let go of the doorframe, wrapping around his neck instead like you're on some sort of fucking autopilot. "Yeah fuck, please", you whisper.

It takes Tangerine a moment, gaze growing a little soft before the beast takes over again, a gleaming dark hue turning the blue into an endless ocean and he hoists you up, carries you over to the bed.

He is carrying you like a caveman would his bagged prey and he tears at your dress just the same, one hand shoving the straps down your shoulders. Then he's onto the zipper, sliiides it down and throws you onto the bed.

You land onto the duvet with a soft thud, tits bouncing a little and his gaze follows the movement hungrily, before he tugs at the hem of your dress, pulls it down and throws it to the ground carelessly.

Tangerine just watches, gaze hungrily moving over your naked form, slooowly starts to undress himself. His slender fingers unbutton the silky shirt, button by button in an agonizingly slow speed. You know he's deliberately taking his time with you and it works, has your body quivering with anticipation and lust, one of your own hands running up your body, cupping your tit. He lifts a brow as he watches you tweaking your nipple and the haughty disdain has your head swimming, legs falling apart. "Please", you whisper, pussy aching for his touch, "--Need you."

The silk falls open, still hugging his shoulder and Tangerine continues watching you, playing with a ring on his finger, just like he's playing with you. It's cruel but it has lust building up in your belly, shooting arousal down between your legs and making fresh wetness pool between your folds in a way that you just know, that his touch will be heavenly.

And yet, impatience taking over, you mewl and in a desperate attempt for any sort of attention - for him to just fucking touch you again - you scramble to your knees, stretching out on the mattress and pressing your body flat onto it, ass high in the air. You know that he'll see it: your wet cunt, glistening in the dim light, hole clenching desperately around nothing. You feel exposed and at his mercy alone, and the degradation and danger of being unarmed like this in the presence of a killer, has your heart racing, thighs rubbing together for any sort of fucking friction.

Tangerine bellows out a laugh, surprised and dark, can't really hide either how turned on he is, and then his hand comes down on your ass. The sound bounces off the walls and has your bods jolting forward, first a gasp and then a moan falling from your lips, hands fisting the sheets. "Ya dirty fuckin' whore", he groans, hand groping your already reddening flesh. You can hear the silk flowing down to the ground and then he is pressing his crotch against you, fine linen against your wet cunt.

It's electrifying, the rather rough material pressing against your soft skin, your slick immediately wetting the fabric as your start to roll your hips against it, rutting over his clothed dick. Tangerine's cock is so so hard, hotly pulsing through the linen and you can feel its curve pressing against your pussy. You whimper, hips stuttering.

"Jesus Christ, love, can feel ya through my fucking pants -- lemme see", Tangerine groans and then grabs your hips hard, stalling your desperate movement, shoving them forward a little. You can feel his gaze dancing over your cunt, hear him whistle lowly, hands spreading your ass cheeks, assessing your slick. One of them comes loose and then --

He gives your cunt a light slap - the slight pain and degradation making your head swim - has you squirming on the mattress, a whiny Daddy, please escaping your lips. Your mind fogs up, all hazy with lust and his perfume, aching your back for him, pressing your chest flat against the sheets.

Tangerine pouts at you, eyes gleaming playfully. "D'you wan'it that bad, love?", and you nod nod nod, wiggling your hips as you chant - a desperate Yes yes yes escaping your lips, muffled by the mattress - hands uselessly darting out for any leverage.

His middle finger runs through your folds and you tremble, goosebumps erupting on your arms, spreading all over your body. He spreads your slick and his other hand comes up, kneads the flesh of your ass, spreading your cheeks further apart. "Always fuckin' wet f'me, innit? Picture perfect cunt ya got, love."

You mewl, throwing a glance over your shoulder to see him watching your hole clench around nothing. His eyes gleam. "Shit", you huff out as his finger brushes over your clit, feet curling a little and he grins smugly - Bastard - and gives your ass another sharp slap. You groan and then his hands are off you, making work of his trousers.

You watch him get fully undressed and your mouth waters at the sight. Tangerine's body is covered in scars, smaller round ones from bullets and larger, longer ones from knives and nasty fist fights and you want to crawl to him on your knees, kiss and lick them, worship them and him - his body, his tool of death - like he's your very personal reincarnation of Ares.

His dick springs free as he drops his boxers, completely exposing his muscular body to you, dusted on body hair and tattoos and scars scars scars and in the moment, that you can see precum glistening on the tip of his cock, you realize that you had already missed it. You fucking missed his dick. The thought has warmth spreading on your cheeks.

There's a light pat on your hip. "C'mon love, turn around. Wanna see your face while I fuck you nice and proper", he hums and your eyelids flutter, humming deeply in your throat at the proposition, turning around and laying on your back.

The mattress dips as he sinks down on his knees, chest flushed a little - the golden necklace dangling between your bodies - and then he's onto you, crawls over your body like an animal, leaves sloppy kisses on your skin, tongue licking over your nipples, stache tickling.

"Oh fuck", you huff, hands darting out and finding his hair, gently tugging at it. Tangerine's lips move over your throat and he sucks, makingyou gasp, throwing your head back as he marks you up.

"Spread ya legs f'me, sweetie", he rasps against your jaw and you do, knees falling apart. He grabs his dick with one hand, the other one supporting his own weight next to your head, rubs himself along your folds, using your slick as lube. "There ya fuckin' go", he huffs and then the thick head of his cock presses against your hole.

"Fuck, yes", you whimper, hot with anticipation, one hand leaving his hair and clutching around his shoulder. And then, he finally - fucking finally - puuushes in, your hole stretching around his girth a little, dull pain spreading excitement across your body.

Tangerine groans. It's a low and honest sound, has his chest vibrating against yours while he looks down to where your bodies meet. "Shit, fuckin' hell", he says, hand abandoning his dick as he slowly slides into you, fills you up and spreads your walls, grabbing your inner thigh instead. The way he spreads your legs is delicious and you hum, his dick is completely seated inside of you.

He lifts his gaze once more, looks at you. His eyes are dark, a stormy stormy sea, a few loose strands falling into his face, curls of his hair freeing themselves from the hair gel. He looks like a fucking god. "Fuck", you say, lowly, hole fluttering around him, stomach tingling at the sight.

"Ya cunt's so fuckin' tight, love", he growls and you can hear, feel it on your skin, that he is having a hard time holding back, "'S perfect, Jesus Christ."

Tangerine rolls his hips, once, twice and you moan, fingers digging into the flesh of his shoulder. "'S good for ya, too, love?", his nose brushes over yours, lips ghosting over your cheek. "Yeah, fuck", you huff, and then he's onto you, licks over your lips with his tongue and shoves it into your mouth, invites himself in. You lick over it, lips locking with his, stealing the air from both of your lungs. It is a sloppy kiss charged with energy and lust, your hands tugging at his curls, making the thrusts of his dick more feral, as he forces himself in deeper, groaning into your mouth. In return you moan, chest heaving against his, tits rubbing over the muscular skin.

His lips brush over the corner of your mouth, breathes against it, stache tingling a little as they move down to your throat, kissing and nibbling at the skin, marking you up.

"Fuck", you gasp at the stinging sensation, pulling his hair and he groans.

It feels nice; the way he is fucking you - you push away the thought that it's dangerously close to actually making love - the way he feels inside of you, how his body feels against yours, but it's also not enough. You need more.

A whine escapes your mouth, all desperate and needy and breathless and his movements still for a second.

Then, Tangerine looks up at you, dark blue eyes meeting yours. "Tell me what you want", he whispers, hand groping your thigh and dick buried deep deep inside of you. You can feel it twitch inside of you and your breath hitches. "Want -- want you to fuck me", you say quietly, "Like - hard."

"Aint' ya just a fuckin' dream, poppet", he growls and then his lips are unto you once more, licking into your mouth, teeth catching your lower lip; licking and kissing your lips until their sore while picking up a faster rhythm, pounding into you.

Tangerine eventually breaks away from you, leaves you panting and straightens up until he's kneeling between your legs - rolls his hips into you with his dick fucking in and out your hole, accompanied by an obscene squelching sound. One of his hands grabs your thigh hard, rings digging into the flesh, and then he's hoisting it up, resting your ankle on his shoulder and you moan at both: how deep his cock now pushes into you and the way Tangerine looks.

A thin layer of sweat covers his cheeks and his upper body, chest and cheeks flushed, a few strands of hair falling into his face as his brows are furrowed, lips slightly parted. You can hear him breathe heavily, occasionally moaning when your walls clench around his cock, squeezing him. He looks like a fucking porn star, with his defined muscles working beneath the skin and the golden jewellery, a soft summer breeze rolling in through the opened window, toying with his hair. Tangerine's gaze is glued to his dick that rhythmically pumps in and out of you, watches the way your juices squelch around the base of his cock, balls slapping against your wet skin.

His free hand runs up your belly and cups one of your tits, squeezes it, rolls the nipple between his fingers - the bracelet around his wrist jingles and the rings are cold against your skin. You hum deeply, breath ragged and fingers clawing at the sheets desperate for any leverage, while his deep thrusts throw you back and forth like a fucking ragdoll, tits bouncing and gasps falling from your lips.

Your mouth falls agape, watching Tangerine through hooded eyes and dark lashes and his gaze crawls up up up your body until it meets yours. It is accompanied by his hand, ditching your tit, and brushing up your neck, cupping your jaw and then falling in the crook beneath it, pressing down. The sudden lack of air has the muscles in your legs tensing and he feels it, too, mischief illuminating his face, his eyes, as you gasp for air. You know he could kill you then and there, watch you as your lights fade out and as fucked up as it is, it has your rutting your hips against him, spurring him on.

Tangerine furrows his brows and picks up a quicker rhythm, hand closing in tighter around your throat, rings pressing down onto your windpipe, and you lay your head back, feeling the stretch as he's choking you. The lack of fresh oxygen has your chest heaving, body surrendering to him and the way his cock pumps into your hole fast and deep, lust igniting your nerves. Tangerine can feel you clenching around his dick, wetting his trimmed pubic hair as you squirt, slick dripping down his balls and staining the sheets below. The beast inside him roars, thrums against the bars of its cage, his ribs and he sees your eyelids fluttering, cheeks prettily reddened.

"Atta girl", he groans, fingers giving in a little and you suck in a few deep breaths, before he presses them back down again. It's too soon and your hands dart up, clutching in around his wrist, bracelet jostling and clinking under your touch.

The cage breaks.

Suddenly, quickly, with the force and speed of a predatory animal, Tangerine lets go off your throat and flicks his wrist, catches both of yours in an iron grip and pins them above your head, down onto the mattress. His body follows the stretch of yours, bending over you, holding his own weight up with a hand that crashes down next to your chest. He is feral and it should scare you, especially as air floods your system again, lifts your mind out of your foggy state just a little, but it just doesn't no fight or flight kicking in. The way Tangerine hovers over you now has your leg on his shoulder bend, too, allowing his dick to fuck into you deeper, delicate pain from the stretch of your back igniting your loins.

Ragged breaths escape his throat while he pounds, ruts into you and you lose yourself in both, the sound of his utter pleasure and the way your body feels: on fire, chest tight with your approaching orgasm and raw lust, pure want, that chews up the ends of your nerves, has your limbs tingling.

Tangerine's hand keeps your wrists in that iron grip of his as he rolls his hips into you, dick hitting your cervix, his fingers digging into the flesh of your wrists. You throw your head back, gasping with each of his thrusts and his eyes follow your movement hungrily, groans as your eyes roll back. There's a strong pull in your abdomen and your hole flutters around his cock, his balls slap against your wet skin.

"Fuck fuck fuck", you whine, high pitched moans falling from your hips as he ruts into you, "I'm gonna cum, oh shit --"

Tangerine's eyes fall shut, a throaty moan erupting deep from his chest when your muscles tighten around him. "Yeah, shit love -- that's it, fuckin' cum f'me", he rasps, forehead coming down to a rest on your shoulder.

And you do after a few more of his deep thrusts, whining and legs kicking a little, shakes erupting in your chest as you press against him. Everything goes white as you ride your orgasm out on his dick, moaning and gasping as he does, too, shoots thick and hot ropes of cum into you, painting your walls and pulsing deep inside of you.

Tangerine moans, coarse and raw and his chest heaves, presses his nose into the crook of your neck - but you barely notice it, too far gone, mouth agape and legs shaking.

It takes you a while to come down again, eyelids fluttering open lazily. There's a hand on your cheek, a deep hum near your ear. "Welcome back, love", Tangerine says quietly and then, "Ya did so good for me, eh?" You mewl, stretching your legs a little. Your whole body feels sore, his cum leaking out of you and into the sheets. All you want to so is to get up and clean yourself up, but your legs are so so heavy and you just feel so so tired. Tangerine seems to notice, too.

"You stay here, darlin', imma get you something to clean you up", Tangerine says, voice coarse but soft and he gets up, just as a fresh breeze rolls in through the curtains, blows them up and sends them flying a little. The forecast prognosed heavy rainfall for next week. The air already smells like it a little - damp and mushy.

The breeze cools your sweaty skin, has you sighing with content while you watch Tangerine's naked form as he is walking to your bathroom, muscles in his legs and butt working nicely with each step.

***

It has been over a week and this is his third night. It starts to feel like a fucking stake out.

He feels incredibly silly. Silly for coming here again. Silly for lying to Lemon - again. Silly for ordering two Margaritas. Silly for drinking both.

Tangerine leans against the bar, elbows planted firmly on the sticky wood, smoking a cigarette. The band, same musicians, play a soft and melancholic tango. The air had cooled down a little after yesterday’s rain and maybe, just maybe, that'll be the summer's first soft goodbye before it will go down in a last great huzzah with a hot Indian summer before autumn takes over the city.

He wonders if he will still be in Amsterdam by then, if he and Lemon will watch the leaves fall. There is an offer for a job in Japan and he is considering to take it. He'll have to talk to Lemon about it.

"Anything else for you, Sir?", the bartender asks. And Tangerine nods, orders another Margarita. The bartender takes the empty glasses away and he stares at the wood. Oh, he's just so bloody fucking silly, isn't he?

He takes another drag from his cigarette, shifts his weight from one foot to another and rubs his eyes. She won't come. He knows.

She just won't. Tangerine did have a suspicion who she was, has heard stories about her father and he knew, as soon as he had laid eyes on her, that he was in big, big trouble. He wonders if he had already taken her away, wanting better for his daughter than a no-good ordinary killer. Did not want the danger in his life that came with a man, who potentially could be holding his daughter for ransom at some point or worse, could get her killed.

He gets it, though. He would probably do just the same.

"There you go, Sir", the bartender says and Tangerine just nods, suddenly feels very very exhausted and just barely notices that something, someone is moving next to him.

"Can you still afford to buy me one, too?", a familiar voice says, "Or did you burn it all on car insurance?" He chuckles, feels a sudden burst of energy surging through his veins, straightens back up and slowly turns around to her.

"Wasn't my fault, 'prick was driving like a fuckin' loony."

She chuckles and the noise makes his head swim, a strange fluttering feeling in his stomach. He wants to tear his chest open and claw at it, rip it out. That is how much it fucking scares him. How much she scares him.

"Wasn't sure if you were coming back", she says, casually, calmly like she thought about it so much she's just used to it by now.

"I'm not leavin' that soon, love", he says, signals the bartender that another Margarita is in order.

"Where you going?"

"Tokyo, love. Probably -- most likely."

"Come back in one piece then", her smile is genuine. And he knows, that he just has to now.

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