#please nobody actually feel obligated to

[stromblessed]

Mizu's spectacles, and the levels of her disguise

In drafting some more Blue Eye Samurai meta posts, I find myself writing out the comparisons between what Mizu can and cannot hide about herself, and how that affects how she moves through the world.

Like, I get the jokes about Mizu's glasses, if only color contacts had existed back then, etc. etc., and I think (hope) that most viewers don't take the glasses jokes seriously, as in "I don't care about the suspension of disbelief because BES is a cartoon." But I wanted to write these thoughts out anyway without burying them in a text post about something else.

I think the points I'm going to lay out here are viewed very differently by different people, so please feel free to add to this post, reply, or put your thoughts in the tags!

Not only do Mizu's glasses not actually help her that much, there's surely more to Mizu's mixed race appearance than just the color of her eyes.

In my view, this was pointed out in episode 1:

I'm willing to bet most of us were expecting young Taigen to say "blue eyes," not "ROUND eyes."

Obviously this is still about Mizu's eyes, but not even spectacles can hide their shape.

I don't think the show is obligated to point out everything about Mizu's face that isn't quite as Japanese as the people around her expect. Though the creators have said that they specifically designed Mizu - and her clothes - to read both as "white" and as "Japanese," as well as both male and female. I think there's more about Mizu's features that read as "white" than just her eyes.

This is where my own headcanons start entering the picture, but it's my impression that people can just tell that Mizu looks different, whether or not they can put a finger on exactly how.

There's the little girl who looks at Mizu and then hides on the way into Kyoto:

When there's more to your face you'd like to cover up than just your eyes, big hats are a big help!

By the way, most of these examples have to come from the first half of the season, since by the second half, either Mizu is too preoccupied with fighting henchmen, or everyone Mizu is facing knows who she is already, and she therefore has no reason to hide her mixed race identity.

It's worth mentioning that the mere fact that Mizu has to hide multiple aspects of her identity - her mixed race and her sex - results in her having to choose clothes that really, really cover her up, which doesn't win her any favors either:

(Zatoichi reference, anyone?)

If it were as easy as, for example, tying her glasses to her head and wa-lah, nobody would ever know she was half-white - then (1) Mizu would've just done that long ago, and (2) Mizu wouldn't be so on guard and on tenterhooks 100% of the time the way she's depicted in the show, even when her glasses are on.

Her spectacles sure don't help her in the brothel, which is full of observant women who are trying to seduce her, meaning they get good long looks at her:

Mizu never takes her glasses off, but they still send a woman to her who has light eyes, thinking that must be what will interest a blue-eyed man:

No wonder Mizu gets mad after this, lol

So Mizu never takes her spectacles off in the brothel, it's dimly lit inside, and the women can still tell that she has blue eyes. I'm getting the sense that Mizu putting on her spectacles isn't a guarantee that people suddenly can't tell that she looks different.

And yet no one spots that she's female.

Mizu can hide her breasts, can wear her hair in the right style, can hide what's between her legs, can walk and talk and behave like a man - and she's been doing it for almost her entire life, to the point that not only is she very good at it, but the threat of being found out as female is deadly, but isn't presented in the show as omnipresent.

Let me explain.

She threatens Ringo for nearly saying the word "girl" out loud, because while she's constantly ostracized for being mixed race, being a woman traveling without a chaperone, carrying a sword, and disguised as a man will get her killed or flogged or arrested or some combination of these things.

But in addition, it's been drilled into her since she was a child that if she is discovered as female, the combination of her being mixed race and female will identify her as someone extremely specific, someone known to some bad people, and she will be killed:

I think of it as Mizu thinking to herself, "Being found out as mixed race means I'm treated badly. Being found out as mixed race and a woman means I'm dead."

Mizu's hair is cut as a child. But she isn't made to wear a big hat, or cover her eyes somehow, or anything like that. Because hiding her sex is a more successful endeavor than hiding her race.

Ringo finds out she's female by accident, but once Mizu accepts the fact that he won't rat her out, she relaxes pretty early on in the season. Because the threat of being found out as female is mitigated pretty much 99.9%, since Mizu has gotten so good at being a man. And also, because most of the time, people see what they want to see. Even if Mizu's face makes her stand out as "not 100% Japanese," no one in the world of BES looks at Mizu's clothes, her bearing, her sword, hears her voice, and will ever in a million years conclude that she is a woman, because expectations around gender roles in the Edo period were so rigid and so widely enforced.

One detail that proved this to me is after the Four Fangs fight:

Ringo takes off Mizu's clothes so he can stitch her up, then leaves her clothes off even after he's done. He doesn't even throw her cloak over her as a blanket or anything. There's a little a straw (pallet?) as a divider there on the left, but anyone could just peek around it and see Mizu and her chest bindings. (I think it's mostly there as a windbreaker.)

And Taigen is right there, but he doesn't give a shit:

Opinions probably vary hugely on this, but my impression is that because the show doesn't make any kind of deal about Taigen being in the room with Mizu here, my guess is that Mizu isn't in any danger of Taigen thinking she's female. Even when I watched the show for the first time, I assumed that Taigen had seen Mizu out of her clothes here, and that he thought nothing of it.

Eat your heart out, Li Shang (Mulan 1998). I actually do think that this scene is a direct and purposeful side-eye to that movie, lol

There's obviously some nuance to how "severe" being mixed race is compared to how "severe" being a woman is for Mizu:

After all, Swordfather can't bear to listen to Mizu confess to being a woman.

So a Japanese man can go wherever he wants, whenever he wants in BES. A Japanese woman has limited options: marriage, religion, or a brothel. A mixed-race man is an eyesore in this story. A mixed-race woman is a death sentence.

May as well eliminate the female aspect, and do what you can about the mixed-race aspect. Because that's just realistic.

Meaning Mizu can avoid the strictures Edo society places on women. But she can't avoid the repercussions that come with being mixed race. And I truly don't think that it's just because "there's no brown contacts yet."

#blue eye samurai #mizu #racism #bes #I am truly disappointed that we didnt get absolute confirmation that Taigen saw Mizus bound chest and just didnt think it was a big deal #but I still think that scene is making a point #again I dont think most people take the glasses jokes seriously #but its been bothering me ever since I first saw them #I really dont think Mizu just looks like a 100 percent Japanese person...... with blue eyes #and I bet that will be made even more obvious when she goes to London where Im sure she will meet plenty of people #who are more than happy to point out their observations to her #also I ran out of room in this post to go into it but this is also what made Mizus marriage an absolutely doomed prospect #Mikio talks about wanting to find the right creature for his lord and well... a mixed race woman is the right creature huh #he just needed a little push imo #getting kind of sad at the thought that Ringo is the only person in Mizus life who knows her whole identity AND accepts it wholly

[icanseethefuture333]

PAC: What are your siren powers & qualities? 🧜🏽‍♀️🐚🌊

In these piles there is adult themes so just be wary of some of the content 🤍 Please leave a tip if you can! 😇 $$$

Pile 1:

Shufflemancy -

Lullaby by GWSN

New You by Zolita

How U Want It by Rochelle Jordan

Six of Swords "Knowledge", The Devil, & Nine of Cups "Joy"

What's interesting Pile 1, is that a song by Zolita came on, and she actually practices witchcraft. So you could be into the occult and practice magick or that is the vibes that you give off. You could visit people in their dreams or you have the power to have influence on people's dream, which is insane! You could have Pisce and air placements (Gemini, Libra, & Aquarius). You have a strong hold of people's subconscious and linger in people's minds. I'm getting like restless nights, tired energy, and I feel people stay up because they have racing thoughts about you. You could have a very soft and gentle appearance as well. You give off an air of mystery and it's like "wow I didn't know this girl could have so much power me???". You could have ex partners who wish they could have you back as well. Your eyes are very magnetizing. I feel that you should get into doing glamour magick, mirror magick, and chants or written spells. I feel that you get downloads from the universe, so you have a divine higher power. Also you could speak your desires out into the world and they manifest instantly. I'm getting like a lot of Mercury and Neptune energy. Very imaginative, alluring, and perceptive. (Clarified by Twof Cups "Love") You could also use psychology for seduction (I'm thinking of Robert Greene's books like "48 Laws of Powers" or "The Art of Seduction", so maybe you have read those or should lol). People just can't help but fall for you.

Pile 2:

Shufflemancy -

Mrs. Variety by Leon Thomas, Ft. Tayla Parx

Goodies by Ciara, Ft. Petey Pablo

She Bad by Cardi B, Ft. YG

Strength, Two of Wands "exploration", & Three of Wands "domination"

Okay so this pile is definitely my fire sign (heavy on Aries but also Leo & Sagittarius) pile or my Virgos (Tayla Parx said in the song "Have you ever fucked wit a virgo?"). You guys have a bad bitch mentality and refuse to settle for anything less. Cardi says in the song "I'm a boss in a skirt, I'm a dog, I'm a flirt". So I feel that you like to be a tease when you flirt with people and then leave them looking stupid. You just like to have fun and you know you're not obligated to do anything you don't want to. This could put people in their feelings because it's like "we were just flirting and then they don't even wanna go out with me?". Which honestly, period - you owe nothing to nobody. I'm getting like this coquette energy, where you like to be in male spaces, and you're better at it than them. Whether that's sports, politics, debates, etc. You have a strong dark feminine, masculine energy and it's incredible. I heard "spicy 🔥🌶" so you could even be a hot head and people find that so sexy 😂. You also like to wear red and black. You mainly like to dress in sports wear or a t-shirt and jeans but when you go out you show tf out. "Mrs. Variety" you know how to glam up for the occasion and it puts people in a trance. Some people could even think like "wow I didn't know they had a body like that" or "damn they look fine as hell when they get all fancy". So maybe when you go out to parties, dinners, or dates you could put on a nice suit or dress with heels. (Clarified by Seven of Wands "bravery") You guys are very brave and courageous. That intimidates people but you have a very high standards and you value yourself so keep working towards your goals!

Pile 3:

Shufflemancy -

Who Hurt You? by Daniel Caesar

Haunting by Halsey

Long Nights by 6lack

The Hermit, The Empress, & The Moon

Oh myyyyy 🤭😏 so this could be only for some of the people in this pile but y'all could be ladies/people of the night 😂? I'm getting that you could be an... "accountant" (sw) and if you're not, you would be so successful at it (if you're a minor then this message ain't for y'all, so dont be thinking about being like Kat from Euphoria 💀). For some reason you come off as very sad though or you look like you're sad to some people. You could have dark circles or your eyes tend to look watery/puffy. Some of you could deal with depression as well (I'm sorry baby I know that can be hard to deal with ❤️‍🩹). You could be unhappy with the current position you are in your life and are wishing for change. You could be working at a "dead end job" and you could be saving money, hoping that you can eventually quit one day. You have people who wish they could "save" you from what you're going through in life. I feel like your power could honestly playing into this "damsel in distress" role to get what you want. This pile reminds of Meg fron Hercules when she said "I'm a damsel *grunts*, I'm in distress, I can handle it, have a nice day~". Like even if you're fine and nothing is wrong, they feel they could give you better than what you currently have or got going on. People just have such a strong desire to help you. You are also very beautiful and you could be an introvert perhaps? There could be Cancer, Libra, & earth sign (Heavy Taurus & Capricorn but also Virgo) placements in your birth chart. You like to be alone or do activities that don't require being in social settings. For example, if other people wanted to go to the club, you would rather be at home, work, library, museum, cafe, etc. You don't like to do anything that requires you to force yourself to get out of bed and interact with bed you probably never gonna see again (valid btw 💀). You prefer to be around close friends, family, coworkers, etc. As I was saying earlier though, you have a lot of secret admirers, pile 3 👀. You could look really pretty in the moonlight as well or people want you sexually at night time 😳. You probably the type of person who gets a lot of booty calls or texts and you're like "why me???". It's just you have a connection to the darker side of people and yourself. You provide this healing energy to people and you exude such divine feminine energy, that's very rare to experience in this lifetime. You could be nurturing to your loved ones as well and for people who aren't close to you, they wish they could receive that love as well. You could be creative too and like to either dance, paint, read, write, etc. (Clarified by Ace of Earth (Pentacles).) Now did I not just mention "accountants"?! Lmao 😭 For the people who are working and are in need of some money. You're gonna get a promotion or a new job soon. You have a very seductive body language and aura, I feel like you could use that for some cash ifykwm 👀👀👀 I'm not saying flirt in the workplace but ya know, don't be afraid to wear your hair a certain way, sway your hips, bite your lip, etc 😌 your clientele would much appreciate the "fanservice" 💅🏽

Pile 4:

Shufflemancy -

No Scrubs by TLC

Enough For Love by Kelela

Balenciaga by Princess Nokia (This song came out in 2019 💀)

Three of Cups "abundance", Four of Cups "Comfort", & Seven of Swords "Deception"

This is very interesting and unique. So pile 4, I feel like you don't care for trends but you know how dress down. The song keeps talking about "drip" so you're styling, you naturally have this swag that nobody else. Whether it's your clothes, the way your carry yourself, or your aura - you're just cool as fuck. You know how to budget and you understand that you don't gotta spend a lot of money to look fabulous but when you do, everything just fits you just right. People could think you're (or you are) very wealthy because of this. I'm reminded of that video Cardi B posted when she said some of her pieces were like a hundreds of dollars and ome thing would be like 20-30$ ("Learn how to budget hoe!" Lol). People could even feel like shocked or duped by that too like "oh you're not a millionaire but have this" or "that outfit is that cheap? It looks so good". A lot of people have this misconcept that being rich means you know how to dress and trust me... I've seen a lot of celebrities wear terrible outfits. When it comes to fashion, you are a expert honey. I'm thinking of that song by Migos: "My bitch is bad and boujee". In your dating life, you refuse to date people who don't have a plan, or don't wish to take care of you financially. For example, if you're on a date, and you pay for one date, you'd be okay, but if the other person continously just mooches of you, you'd cut them off with the quickness. So you only date people who are "high value" and can add substance to your life. (Clarified by Six of Swords "Success") You are private when it comes your money, goals, and achievements. I feel that you are like a "humble bragger". You like to work in silence snd let the results show for yourself. If not, you should start learning how to do that. It can protect you from the evil eye 🧿!

Pile 5:

Shufflemancy -

Honey by Riri

Slow Down by Normani & Calvin Harris

You Got Me by The Roots, Ft. Erykah Badu

Seven of Cups "illusion", The Lovers, & Ace of Air (swords)

This pile's energy is reminding me of Sade. I'm getting a very classy, refined, and sensual vibe to you pile 5. Sade could be one of your favorite artists as well or you like to listen to smooth jazz, r&b, soft rock, or any song that's typically more mellow. You could be old fashioned as well and desire a more traditional relationship. You either are in a relationship right now or you dream of finding that special someone and being with them for the rest of your life. I'm hearing the lyrics "will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful" by Lana Del Rey and some of the people that chose this pile could be older in age or they are more mature than others their age. You have a deep soul and it entraps people, an enigma. You could like to take it slow when it comes to love and that makes the people you date drawn to you even more. I'm being reminded of Mariah Carey when she says in her song: "I can't be elusive with you, honey". You are able to communicate clearly to others what your needs are and if they aren't being met, you have no issue with leaving because you know that you deserve better - Whether at work or in your relationships. In your past, you could have experienced a lot of disappointments due to your expectations not being met. I'm also seeing that people have fantasies about being in a relationship with you and see you as a good potential for marriage. (Clarified by The High Priestess) You attract others to you when focusing on your spiritual path. I feel that you are most abundant when you are connected to your higher self and follow what makes you happy. People feel drawn to you when you are the best version of yourself.

Pile 6:

Shufflemancy -

Dreamcatcher by Metro Boomin Ft. Swae Lee

Te Amo by Rihanna

Somewhere I Belong by Linkin Park

The Chariot, Ace of Water, & Death

I feel that this is my queer pile. Some of you might be sapphic/attracted to those of the same sex or you attract others from the same sex. You could be flirtatious when you have the courage (maybe even liquid courage?). You could be very persuasive and charming, it's a turn on for people 😂. If you're not lgbtq+, then I feel like you give very "sus" compliments to others. For example, you ever see girls in another girls' comment sections? You would think that they're gay by the shit they be saying 😭. I feel like you make friends or attract lovers easily because you have such a likeable personality. You're funny, friendly, and supportive so you make people feel good inside. Although, I feel that you guys have trouble with your relationships. When you like someone you get all these butterflies and stutters when you are around someone you really like. So even though you like them you're afraid to tell them how you feel. To make sure that person doesn't know you just act nonchalant and pretend that you're online looking to have fun and nothing serious. "I'm here for a good time not a long time" basically. I'm reminded of Danny from Grease, he was totally smitten for Sandy but he didn't want to let go of his tough guy image for her. Where instead of you having a tough guy image, you use your sense of humor for protection out of your own of fear of rejection or heartbreak. I feel that growing up your interests, sexuality, or personality was different from the rest so it could have made you feel lonely or isolated as well. You wanted to find a place where you belong and so you had to find your own group of people that you can connect with and feel close to. (Clarified by The Sun) I'm seeing partying, dancing, one night stands, make outs, the "Suck and Blow" game, etc. You guys are just wild, pile 6 😂! You change people's lives forever after interacting with you. I'm getting like "drunk girl in the bathroom that's my bestie for the night". You become a "core memory" to people because of your uplifting personality and silly jokes. If people feel down in their lives or really depressed. People suddenly remember the things that you did for them and it cheers them up. You are a beam of light for others in their darkest hours!

Pile 7:

Shufflemancy -

LEFT RIGHT by XG

From Time by Drake

N.E.R.D - Kites

Daughter of Fire, Nine of Cups "Joy", & Two of Cups "Love"

Pile 7, I feel the way you dress has pieces of your culture involved. Your style could be very bohemian as well. I'm seeing tribal tattoos, beads, neck pieces, sarongs, and feathers. You could be very passionate when it comes to what you believe in. You also seem to be proud of your heritage. For some people in this pile, you could be artists. You could be dancers, actors, in theater, do pottery, work with clay, or paint. I see that you are very talented with your hands. Maybe some of you even make jewelry or know how to sew clothes. Your skin could glow in the sun or it's just naturally radiant and beautiful. You could also be kind of cheeky and vivacious 🤭. People find thatt so adorable and endearing. You could like to make people blush or find people's reactions funny when you mess with them. I'm reminded of Joy from Red Velvet. She has this like "I'm hot and I know it" mindset or is well known for being "cutie-sexy" and it's refreshing. You could also be a really good kisser 😚 or you have these plump lips that people wish they could get a kiss from 💋 I'm also seeing licking or biting so you could do this with your lips or to others 🥵 This pile reminds me of the love interests in the movies and it seems that everyone just really likes you, pile 7. You're the Mary Jane to people's Peter Parker/Spiderman. (Clarified by Three of Cups "Abundance") What did I just say?! You have so many people who want to offer you a love proposal or ask you out on a date. I feel that you guys are aware of manifestation and have a positive self concept. You could practice law of the assumption and just affirm/assume that you're highly favored and desired. If you need a confirmation that what you're doing is working - It is, stand in your power ✨️

Pile 8:

Shufflemancy -

Niki - Spell

Stray Kids - Deep End by Felix

Shilpa - Selfish

The Fool, Mother of Air, & Three of Pentacles ("Work")

I feel that in your relationships you have been selfless and devoted. You express your love with acts of service and quality time. Expressions of emotional intimacy could make you uncomfortably possibly (reflect as to why!). You are logical and intelligent. You may enjoy reading and writing. (Clarified by Daughter of Air) Growing up your parents could have been strict and were very traditional. You could have done well academically in classes (the girl in this card has a sword, you could be "cut throat" with your words, some of you could been in debate club?). Your voice commands just attention. I feel as you got older and gained more of your independence. You began to rebel from your parents rules and expectations, discovering who you truly are without other people's influence. NSFW warning but I believe people would love to be degraded by you 👁👁? Some of you could be dominant sexually or be a dominatrix. While also balancing it with this maternal energy? ("Mommy? Sorry- Mommy? Sorry-"). Or your style has elements of fetishwear (harnesses, leather, boots, etc). I feel that people who are involved with you romantically/sexually just become like your litte worker bees while you're the queen. I can also see that you're noncommittal as of right now or just exploring your options. This upsets people greatly because you have a great amount of secret admirers who would love to be your partner. You could get late night calls or text messages from exes and you're just like so over it (which is understandable 😂). Your cold and dismissive attitude just draws people toward you. I'm reminded of Jennie from Blackpink or Heather from Total Drama. They both have dark hair, cat like facial features, and their expressions are just effortlessly cool and confident (you could possibly have these features also). You fit into that "pretty mean girl" trope.

Pile 9:

Shufflemancy -

Qveen Herby - BDE

Retronaut - Talk

Lauren Jauregui - Em(oceans)

Eight of Cups ("Despair"), Strength, & The Emperor

I feel the people in this pile has luscious hair and something about it could be shiny or radiant (some of you have wavy hair or the texture is soft or silky). Your features could look ethereal or possibly be androgynous. You have a balance of feminine and masculine energy. Your nose, cheekbones, and jawline structure could be prominent and defined. I feel that the people in this pile are like a Phoenix, they have suffered in silence, and had to rise from the ashes. You don't let people see you suffer and so you let yourself heal in silence. When people hear your story and learn about what you've been through, they gain so much admiration for you. They'd never suspect to such things happen and therefore it's like they gain respect, while others think you had it easy. People wonder how you got all this success but what they don't understand is that you had to literally come from the mud in order to become this pearl that washed onto shore. You did your part and fought for your power, which I commend you so much for pile 9. You are like this beautiful warrior, you carry so much strength and bravery inside of you. What's also attractive about you is how you set boundaries and change the topic when someone becomes too invasive with your questions. You are stoic and a mountain that can't be moved with just meer charm, if a lover wanted to impress you, they would have to do more than that. (Clarified by Ace of Swords) I feel that the people in this pile could be sapiosexuals. Someone who is passionate about their talents, work, loved ones, etc, is just so sexy to you. Your ideal match would be someone who could let you take the lead in the relationship (pick the restaurants, what location to travel to, etc) but in the bedroom then its their turn 👀.

#pac #pick a card #tarot #tarot readings #free readings #witchcraft #wicca #astrology #spell #spellwork #18+ pac

[gabessquishytum]

Ballerinos paired together for romantic dance who initially can't stand each other.

Hob and Dream both found their way to a nontraditional ballet company - Hob didn’t really have the "body type" for your traditional ballet companies, he was very good but spent too many years in the chorus; Dream was also very good, had a rightfully reputation as a diva, but got injured by bad direction from Burgess, that was ultimately blamed on Dream. Dream has healed from his injury, but companies weren't interested in hiring him.

So they both need a chance and this "experimental" dance company might be the answer.

Their new company pairs them in a romantic pas de deux, but they are having the hardest time looking romantic with each other.

When they first met, Hob and Dream just rubbed each other the wrong way - it could have been a personalities clash, it could have been a seniority thing,,,,, it could have been the (unresolved) sexual tension. Whatever it was, it was making them clumsy and tentative with each other - who would ever think experienced dancers would be shy about putting hands on another for lifts. They could actually hurt each other if this keeps up.

So they are sent off for a weekend together to work it out!

Ooo I love this,,, the absolute tension and sexiness,,,

Hob is generally the kind of guy who can be very much trusted with lifts, throwing his fellow dancers around... even in the warm ups before rehearsals, all the young male dancers are practically begging him to please please please do an angel lift with them? They might never have the chance to be lifted again 🥺🥺 and of course Hob obliges.

Dream finds all of this very foolish. He's just waiting for the day when Hob acquires an unnecessary injury from messing around. His vibes when he's around Hob are full of disdain, and he makes Hob lose his confidence! His holds are terrible, his hands slip. Dream isn't helping at all. He seems to forget what he's doing half way through a movement. But the irony of it all is that they look amazing together.

So off they go to a small hotel in the country which doubles as one of those meditation retreats. And Dream spends the whole of the first day being a diva and ordering Hob around, until Hob finally snaps.

He says that Dream isn't the principle dancer and he needs to stop acting like it, that Hob is just as good as Dream if not better, it's just that Dream had the luck to be born pretty, and that if he doesn't wind his neck in then Hob is going to go and find a partner who doesn't make him feel like shit.

And after a blazing row, its inevitable: they fall into each other's arms, and fuck all over the hotel room. Dream graciously allows Hob to top in what feels like a metaphor for him relinquishing control - so Hob takes it very seriously and makes sure that Dream feels safe and has his mind completely blown.

When they both get back to rehearsals, they dance together beautifully and with such confidence, the rest of the company can't quite believe it. Hob is confident, Dream is trusting, their duet is everything is should be.

The only problem now is that they wont stop making out in the dressing rooms, but hey. Nobody's perfect!

#the sandman #dreamling #nsft #ballet au

[nyoomfruits]

54 for omegaverse please and thank

54. "P-please scent me, I don't want to smell like them, I want to smell like you..."

It starts innocent enough, Lando popping his head around the door of Oscar’s driver’s room somewhere between press responsibilities on Thursday. “Hey,” he says, glancing at where Oscar is sprawled over the couch, scrolling through his phone. “Can you scent me?”

Oscar raises an eyebrow. They’ve been teammates for a while now, long enough for Oscar to know Lando’s nose is sensitive. He particular, about who and what he does and doesn’t smell like. Borrows hoodies from friends and family to be wrapped up in their scent, gets antsy when things smell wrong.

So this. This means Oscar… His inner Alpha, the one that’s been screaming mine mine mine ever since he first laid eyes on Lando, rumbles happily. Oscar firmly tells it to shut the fuck up and turns to Lando, reassuring smile on his face, determined not to make this weird. Lando wouldn’t ask him if he wasn’t feeling uncomfortable, so.

“Sure,” he says. “Get over here.”

Lando makes a happy noise and instead of waiting for Oscar to get up so they can do the whole cheek rubbing, neck nosing thing that’s normal between friends, flops down square on top of Oscar and snuggles in.

“Oof,” Oscar wheezes out, when Lando’s elbow ends up somewhere in his abdomen. “Okay.”

“Hm,” Lando says, shoves his nose into Oscar’s neck. Oscar stares up at the ceiling, tries to think of Normal and Sane things that aren’t his teammate currently lounging on his chest, fitting into his arms like a puzzle piece sliding into place.

After about five minutes of Oscar trying to name every single part of the MCL60 in his head and not thinking about shoving his nose into Lando’s soft curls and taking in his chocolate cookie sweet scent, Lando lets out a happy noise and gets up again. “Thanks, mate,” he says, and then disappears before Oscar can utter as much as a ‘No problem’.

--

It happens again, after that. And again. Lando has clearly added Oscar to his roster of ‘People Who Smell Good’, and makes grateful use of the fact that Oscar is just around, like. All the time. It reaches a point where Lando just follows Oscar into his driver’s room between obligations, sprawls all over his couch, steals his hoodies.

Like he belongs.

And that’s. That’s when it starts becoming a problem. Because the more and more Lando inserts himself into Oscar’s space, the more Oscar’s stupid instincts scream at him that he’s his, that he belongs to Oscar, that he is his Omega. Which is stupid, because Lando doesn’t belong to anyone. Least of all Oscar.

The moment Oscar realizes he’s gotten in way over his head is when him and Lando make it onto another podium, and when Max gives Lando a congratulatory handshake, Oscar actually growls at him.

Nobody catches it, over the sound of the celebrations and the general F1 post-race ruckus, but Oscar realizes that if he doesn’t put a stop to this now it’s only going to get worse and that isn’t fair to anyone. Not to Lando, not to any Alpha that comes close to Lando, not to himself.

He doesn’t tell Lando, doesn’t know how to explain without putting his heart on the table and making it gratingly awkward for everyone involved, and so he keeps quiet, pulls away bit by bit, slowly disappearing back into the shadows he existed in before Lando put him in the spotlight.

Lando, for the most part, lets him. Frowns, when Oscar closes the door to his driver’s room before Lando can follow, when Oscar moves away from his touch. But he doesn’t say anything, seems to accept the distance Oscar is trying to create. Doesn’t push.

It hurts, only a little bit. Oscar had fooled himself, at one point, that maybe it meant something, to Lando. But the way he lets Oscar pull away so easily…

Oscar puts his head down, focuses on the car. He’s here to race after all.

--

The whole weekend has been shit. Qualifying was garbage for the both of them, and then there’s a sprint on Saturday that goes completely tits up, too. Lando ends up in the gravel somewhere halfway, and Oscar watches the screens, watches him climb out of the car, sulk back to the garage.

Lando gets subjected to a million interviews that all ask him the same questions, and Oscar can see the exhaustion on his face, from his end of the media pen. Something in him wants to reach out, pull Lando close, shade him from the rest of the world. He pushes that something down, and answers the fifteenth question about how they’re expecting the race tomorrow to go now the car seems so spectacularly shit this weekend.

He doesn’t expect there to be a knock on his hotel room door later that night, revealing Lando in all his jittery, exhausted glory. “Oscar,” he says, mouth tight and eyes downcast. He looks so small, and Oscar’s Alpha whines at the sight. “Oscar please. I know I’ve been asking way too much, making you all uncomfortable but please, please scent me. I don’t, I don’t want to smell like them, I want to smell like you.”

Oscar wants to give in immediately. Pull him close, press his nose into Lando’s scent gland. Take off his clothes, because skin to skin scenting is always better. Wants to cover him until Lando smells like nothing but Oscar, so everyone else can smell who he belongs to. But that’s not. He needs answers first. So he restrains himself, tries to keep his face neutral as he says. “Why me?”

Lando makes a frustrated little noise. “Don’t. Don’t be mean, Oscar. You know. You know why.”

“I really don’t,” Oscar says, genuinely confused.

“But,” Lando says, “You pulled away. Because you realized I was in love with you. That’s why… You needed space.”

Oscar blinks. Tries to process fifteen things all at once and comes up completely blank. “I needed space because I realized I was in love with you,” he says, a little dumbfounded.

Lando frowns. “Why would you need space, then?”

“I, because I didn’t think you wanted me?”

“Well, that’s stupid,” Lando says, frown deepening. “Of course I want you. Why would I scent you all the time if I didn’t want you?”

Oscar wants to bring up the nose thing, how he just thought that’s how Lando kept himself comfortable. Want to bring up how Lando never said anything. But it’s details, really. Details that don’t really matter, not when Lando is standing in front of him, saying he’s in love with Oscar.

So instead, he grabs the front of Lando’s hoodie, pulls him close, presses their lips together in a searing kiss. Lando yelps, but then melts into it immediately, making a happy little purring noise in the back of his throat.

(Later, with his arms wrapped around Lando’s naked, sleeping form, Oscar presses his nose into the place where Lando’s neck meets his shoulder. He smells like LandoOscarLandoOscar, and it’s the most beautiful thing Oscar’s ever smelled. He’s falls asleep only seconds later.)

#landoscar #mctwinks #twinklaren #drabble

[absolutelynotmate-archive]

this one and the next- I'VE MOVED BLOGS! if you enjoy this and are looking for more, follow me @formulaforza

c.leclerc x female reader (no y/n, soulmates au) word count: 4.3k a/n: my first f1 fic 🫣 be gentle i'm new here

Can we talk later?

You mill over the text, shaken, unprepared for the what are we conversation just yet, planning on living in the climate-controlled artificial relationship ecosystem for just a while longer. You write out an answer, delete, rewrite until the words don’t look like words and your fingers tap the wrong keys, delete again, set your phone face down on the arm of the couch. Chewing on it for a few more minutes, you attempt to play out the conversation in your mind, pausing here, clipping that short, slowing that down, and then your phone is in your hand again. 

You wonder if his phone sits deep in his pocket, buried somewhere in a bag, in his hand while he anxiously watches the typing bubbles appear, disappear, appear again. Maybe he’s as anxious as you, horrified, mortified, all the other -fieds at the thought of a label corrupting this, at the thought of rules and expectations and external opinions. 

You can plan it out as many times as you want, you’re always going to get stumped, because, well, you have no fucking idea what you and he are. You’re friends, best friends, the exchange of knowing glances, soulmates, a familiar laughter, strangers, a fading fire, nobody knows. Why, why must this conversation be had? You’re having fun, it’s fact, unwavering and unrelenting fun. Keep on, keeping on, just for now, until things aren’t so fun, and then the serious conversations can be had.

You can’t tell him no, refusing to have the talk would be worse than anything that could possibly come from actually sorting this situation out, from deciding whether or not this version of you will live on, or if it’s time they get buried, locked away far from your mind, replaced by someone new. 

Yes, you eventually reply. Dinner, my place?

There’s a pit in your stomach because you still don’t know what you’re going to do, what you’ll say, what your relationship is. His career, his lifestyle, it’s so, so different from yours. He’s home now, but he'll be gone soon, gone a lot, and you can’t just drop everything to follow him around, and you wouldn’t want to. You have no interest in every single move you make being talked about, photographed and scandalized. When you have a bad day, you don’t need the world to know, and when you have a good day, you don’t want to feel obligated to share it with anyone you don’t want to. 

He makes you happy, there’s no denying that, and you’re pretty sure he feels the same way, but you’ve been happy before. You’d be happy again, a simple happy, a regular happy. Is he really worth all that?

He’s knocking on the door at seven sharp, bottle of red in one hand, flowers in the other. You blush, because it’s the first time he’s personally delivered you flowers, and he makes fun of you for it, says you’re too easy to please with a cocky grin on his smug face. He asks you to be his girlfriend over the pasta dinner. You say yes, pretend you never had a single doubt, kiss him in the lamp lit living room. 

You meet his family in Monaco. It’s your first time on the paddock, first time at an F1 race,  and you pick anxiously at your cuticles the entire walk there. You’ve been planning your outfit out for a week, and yet still changed five times this morning. You would’ve kept going, but you were going to be late. You check your purse a million times, terrified that you’re going to forget something. They come up to you in Ferrari hospitality and introduce themselves. His mom is kind and respectful, and hugs you tight. His brothers remind you of him, same laugh, same mannerisms, same sense of humor. “She’s a keeper.” Arthur tells Charles that evening as you all leave the track. He nods, agrees, pulls you a little closer.

You move in together a few months after that, and find yourself explaining the intimate details of the past situationship to your mother over the phone. She’s just looking out for you, curious as to the stranger from another country that will be living with her daughter after only a few months of dating. She was expecting to hear that you’d been fucking for six and a half months before making the jump to boyfriend and girlfriend, but you weren’t expecting her to be so incredibly investigative. “He’s famous, Ma.” You’d told her.

“So if he kills you, I’ll see it on the news before I hear it from the police.” You laughed. She didn’t, and you promised to be out to meet her as soon as you could. You and Charles booked the flights over FaceTime that night.

Your parents had always held out hope you’d move back home, get tired of Monaco and all its pomp and circumstance and come crawling back to a twin bed in the land of dull beige apartments and gray skies. Charles impressing them was going to be twice as hard as it should’ve been, because the mere existence of your relationship was crushing their dreams for their little girl. He is an anchor, holding you steady in Monaco, stationary and happy and far, far away from them. 

He’s him, though, so all he had to do was flash those endearing eyes and that charming smile and they were calling him their son-in-law by the time we were eating dinner in the swankiest restaurant your hometown had to offer. You didn’t know it then, but he sat on the porch with your dad one morning and said he wanted to marry you. “Of course, you do.” Your Dad had said. “For your sake, I hope she wants to marry you.”

You did–want to marry him, and you danced with your friends and family into the morning on that summer evening, the air perfectly warm, the sun perfectly shining, a wedding band perfectly sat on your finger. It was the single most fun evening you’d ever had, celebrating the love you have for your husband. 

It takes a while to get used to that. Your husband, Charles.

“We’re not, not trying.” He told your grandchildren hungry parents at Christmas. You were mortified, wishing you could curl up into your own skin at the thought of your parents, especially your father, knowing exactly what’s happening in your sex life. It’s a year and three months to the day when they’re at your house in Monaco. You’re on the couch, raggedy pajamas and hair that hasn’t been brushed in three days, minimum, watching Charles carefully place your Mother’s littlest grandchild into her arms. He’s a month old, your son, and it seems like he’s already so big, but when you see him in your Mom’s arms, tiny wool socks slipping off his feet, you’re reminded just how small and dependant he is on you, both of you, to keep him safe from even his own fingernails. 

If you thought keeping mittens on the kid or waking up in the middle of the night to make sure his chest is still rising and falling was touch, nothing could’ve prepared you for that little shit learning how to open the babyproofed kitchen cabinets. The terrible twos were indeed, terrible. So terrible, that you’d decided hey, let’s do this again. Dragging yourself to those home races was anxious then, but now you’re chasing around a two year old, hoping and praying he doesn’t say anything or eat anything or, God forbid, break anything. 

Somewhere in the mess of it all, Charles was having his best season. The championship was so close he could taste it, and you made sure you were there, front and center, cheering him on when he finally achieved his dream. ‘It’s for my Father, and for Jules, and for my kids.” He’d said, teary eyed. He didn’t need to dedicate it to you, he never needed to prove anything to you, to show you his greatness. You loved him as he was, world champion or not, but you still hugged him with all your might in the middle of the track, still kissed him like there were no cameras and no people watching, because, for that immortalized moment in time, nobody was there but you and him. 

He smelled like champagne for three days, and you’re not sure you’ll ever bounce back from the celebrations that night, a permanent hangover and a queasy stomach at the mere mention of a top shelf tequila that shall not be named lingers on for years to come. Everything was perfect, though, and it was all so worth it. Two parents in love, chasing their dreams, a big house on a hill, a little boy and a tiny girl with the world at their fingertips. Your little family was so cliché it hurt. 

Before you knew it, you’re dropping your boy off at his first day of school, and you’re pretending not to cry while Charles laughs sweetly, wiping the salt from your face with the pads of his thumbs. He’s gone racing, and you’re splitting your already short time between this afterschool activity and that. When he’s home, he tries to shoulder as much of it as he can, and sometimes it feels like you kiss each other goodmorning and don’t see the other until you kiss again goodnight. 

Charles retires when the kids are eleven and eight. They understand, but they don’t. Their father is just their father to them, they can’t yet wrap their heads around the true passion he has for racing, the way it courses through his veins and occupies any free space in his mind, They don’t understand what it’s like to love something so purely, to know it’s what you were put on this Earth to do, not yet. 

It gets easier, for a while. There’s an adjustment period, and then you slip into a new routine, one where he tells the kids goodnight, and goes to sleep a few hours later rather than calling from somewhere else in the world and still having a million hours left in his day. 

The kids only get older, though, and their lives just get bigger, there’s more responsibility to shoulder, more things that need to get done. They develop new hobbies, add new sports practices and clubs and events to your already chaotic schedule. You’re tired, like, all of the time, and fight more than you ever did before. “I didn’t even want to be with you in the first place.” You said once, in the middle of your messiest argument. You two didn’t speak for three days, no hello, no goodbye, no tired small talk about your days or arguments about spending time with certain kids. On the third night, he slept on the couch and it felt like he had never been farther away. You made up the next morning.

At least, you told yourselves you made up. It only took a few days to slide back into the same stuff, hanging on by a single thread until a new fight came along to be the messiest one. You both tried to keep it quiet, hide it from the kids and your family and your friends, let everyone go on believing you were this perfect couple with this perfect life and perfect family. Nobody needed to know your relationship was going through the wringer each and every day, and you were convinced nobody was the wiser. “Are you and Dad going to divorce?” Your sweet little boy, the one who was now three inches taller than you, asked as you dropped him off for his first day at a new school. 

You called off work and went straight home, waited for Charles to get back from dropping off the younger one, and were crying on the couch when he got home. The two of you talked  until it was time to pick them up, and then you talked some more in the privacy of your room when you got back. It was the first time in a long time you actually talked to each other. You’d spent years speaking at each other, losing yourselves, losing each other, losing everything that mattered. 

“Your parents are so in love,” Your boy’s girlfriend–yes, he has a girlfriend now–said at his little sister’s graduation party. In a few short months, you’re going to be empty nesters, and Charles is taking it particularly hard. He feels like he’s missed out on too much, that his relationship with the kids will never be what yours is. You try your best to comfort him, but you both know he’s right. You weren’t the only ones who made sacrifices for Charles to chase his dream, the kids were forced to share their father with the world, whether they liked it or not. 

Charles was an emotional wreck the weekend of your little girl’s wedding. From start to finish, he was moments away from shedding a swimming pool’s worth of tears. He was so happy to see her so happy, and it was bittersweet for him, giving his little girl away, knowing that she didn’t need him anymore. He understood now what your father had meant all those years ago, that it was impossible not to love her, and that anybody lucky enough to be loved should never take advantage of it for even a moment. You danced together at the reception, laughing and reminiscing about your own. You’d asked, jokingly, if he regretted marrying you. “Never.” He said, without elaboration or grand gesture, and you knew he meant it, despite the challenges you’d faced together. 

Before you knew it, there was another Charles running around the house, laughing that sweet belly laugh and harboring all the innocence of the world in his big doe eyes. You’ll never be able to explain to anyone how much that meant for Charles, a grandson named after him. It was as if every doubt and insecurity  he’d had about raising your kids was silenced. As if you son was telling him, you built me, Dad, thank you

The years faded into each other, both of you graying and aging with an optimistic grace. Your kids threw you a surprise 40th anniversary party, and you thought it was impossible to feel so surrounded by love. You danced to your wedding song, resting your head on his shoulder like you had all those years ago, laughing at his stupid jokes and silently reflecting on everything that got you here. It was never easy, it was never going to be, but it was so worth it, to love him and be loved by him. 

And when your memory started to escape you, when you searched for a younger version of him in every room, he stayed by your side as a stranger. In a moment of clarity, ones that were becoming fewer and further between, you’d asked him to promise you something. “Let me go first.” You pleaded, feeling all the weight of a life without him, knowing that if he dies before you, you’ll forget he was gone and be forced to relive the sorrow over and over again. 

As your breathing slowed and the sounds of the world faced away, his hand stayed on yours. It’s only a matter of time, now. You’ll be gone soon, leaving behind the wonderful life you’ve created. “Wait for me wherever you go, mon ange.” He whispers in the stillness of the hospital room. “I will find you again.”

– – – –

You see him for the first time at a café. You’re sixteen and don’t even like coffee, but your best friend is dragging you in. He’s working behind the counter, flustered and busy, running around mixing drinks and taking orders. "Que voulez-vous commander madame?” He asked your friend, and she ordered. “Et vous?” I don’t drink coffee, you told him. He smiled, goofy, something familiar in his eyes. You noted his nametag, carefully drawn on with a chalk marker. Charles. 

He calls out your friend's name a few minutes after, and sets two drinks down on the counter. Her name is written messily on one, his phone number on the other. 

You spend the next month stopping by the shop randomly. Sometimes he isn’t there, but when he is, he makes you a different drink every time, his number scribbled on the side without fail. It takes the whole month before you’re convinced to actually call him, and he doesn’t answer. You leave a message.

Your first date is the weekend, coffee in the morning. Because, of course it is. He pulls out your chair on the patio of the small shop and the first date turns into a second, lunch in the park, and then a third, dinner at your favorite restaurant. Not once do you run out of things to talk about, something vast and unfamiliar and welcoming about him. In the silent moments there is  solace, warm and comfortable, like you’ve known each other your whole lives. 

Nobody believes in your relationship, not really. You’re fighting the odds from the time you decide you’re not going to break up before going to university. Everytime you catch up with friends from home, they seem surprised to learn you’re still together. Family whispers, tells you it’s not going to last, that you should prepare yourself. But you and he know something nobody else does, acutely aware of the draw and connection you share. A once in a lifetime, once in a millenia, once upon a time love story written just for the two of you. 

When you graduated, a cheap, shiny engagement ring on your finger, he was watching with a proud smile and a bouquet of flowers. You went home together, to your dumpy little apartment, paid for by your waitress shifts and his hours at the café. He cooked dinner, you ate off paper plates in the living room and made infinite, optimistic plans for your futures. 

You could dream far and wide, but when it came down to it, anything would be heaven if he was there. Cheap dingy apartment and barely paying jobs felt like the lap of luxury with him by your side. 

This time though, your story is much more tragic. Lovers fated for a John Green novel, a manic pixie dream girl to live on in montages on tiny phone screens, destined to be someone he thinks of in dark lonely rooms or when someone doesn’t answer his call. 

He realizes a year and a half after the abrupt end to your story that he can’t remember your voice, your laugh, your smell. He spends the day watching videos of you, re-memorizing the way you spoke, your mannerisms, you. He’s moved out of the apartment, and your parents have all your things in boxes in their attic. He drives into the early morning, stopping once to use the bathroom, nothing more. When your Dad opens the door in the middle of the night, he gives Charles a heavy hug and leads him to the attic. It’s there, under the A-frame roof, amongst the humid air and cobwebs that you are immortalized. Beyond the dust is everything that made you, you. Forever young and hopeful and in love.

In a cardboard box labeled your room, corners dark and misshapen, he finds a stack of disposable coffee cups, familiar label printed on the cleaned cups, familiar number scribbled on each one with the haste of a seventeen year old boy’s black sharpie. He had no idea you’d kept them, the stupid advances of a shy boy enamored with the pretty girl. 

He moved forward, somehow, sometime later. But, he never moved on, looking for your smile, your sense of humor, your heart, in everyone who followed. 

– – – –

The next lifetime is spent platonically, a lifelong companionship that nobody else could ever fully understand. You were old souls, cherishing the minute details of the world and longing for something simpler. There was no longing, or waiting to meet. You’d known him for as long as you could remember. 

He was a brother, without the blood. Charles the comedic protector, walking on the outside of the sidewalk and then promising to use you as a human shield, a plus one to a wedding when your boyfriend dumped you the night before then did the chicken dance in front of strangers just to get an embarrassed laugh out of you. Charles, who walked so you could run, who jumped to make sure you wouldn’t fall, who held you back so he could throw the punches. 

When you met his wife for the first time, then barely his girlfriend, you’d made him promise not to fuck it up. “She’s too good for you, Cha.” You’d told him, because it was true. 

When she put you in a purple chiffon cupcake dress at their wedding, he struggled to bite back laughter while you walked down the aisle. You flipped him off with your eyes and he looked to Arthur, who was cracking up beside him. 

“He looks just like his Dad,” She said, holding your son in the hospital. Thank God for that, Charles said, and she smacked his arm. 

“We can only hope yours doesn’t suffer the same fate.” You said, a smug expression on your tired face. 

He went first this time, a million years later. You held her hand at the funeral and kissed the boys’ cheeks, tears pricking your nose when their grip on you tightened. 

There was comfort in the grief, something sure and steady in you, this wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last. 

– – – –

Yes. Dinner, my place?

He gets there at seven, wine and flowers in hand. Your heart sinks and you’re ready to have a panic attack. You can’t do this to him, he’s too sweet, too kind. He leaves your apartment an hour and a half later, and you cry for what feels like the entire night. The flowers are in the trash the next morning, because you can’t bear to look at them.

“Do we have to watch this?” You asked, sitting on the couch next to your boyfriend. I thought you liked it, he’d said. There was nothing you wanted to watch less than Charles winning his first World Championship, watching him celebrate on the podium, kissing his girlfriend for the whole world to see. You didn’t know how you were supposed to feel, it was a combination of ache, longing, joy, and pride. None of which were your place to be feeling. “Just, turn it off, please?”

You threw up three times on your wedding day. Something was wrong, you knew deep down that you were making a mistake, but you didn’t have the resources or the balls to do anything about it. You knew you’d be happy, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something better was out there somewhere, that your soulmate was walking–or driving–around somewhere in the world. You went through with it though, never knowing for sure the reason behind your tears at the altar. 

Things were good, until they weren’t anymore, and you find yourself in the aftermath of a messy divorce and a messier custody battle. You live back in your hometown, the one you swore you’d never live in again, in a beige apartment that doesn’t belong to you. It’s all you can afford, and you need your parents' help with the kids. Not that you found yourself with much time to look back on your life, but when you did, it wasn’t the sunshine, roses, and simple happiness you’d aimed for when you opted down this path years ago. You found yourself wondering, more often than you’d like to admit, about what could have been, about what almost was. 

Your son, because the universe is sick and twisted and determined, decides he wants to be a Formula One driver. He must get it from his father, the drive to chase his dreams, because it certainly didn’t come from you and your desire to settle for something simple and regular. 

You don’t know how you manage it, the financial aspect of what feels like the most expensive dream in the world, but you do. Before you know it, your leg is anxiously bouncing for what feels like nine straight months. Watching him drive horrifies you, leaves you shaky and exhausted even when everything goes right, but especially when anything at all goes wrong. 

Your name on his lips is startling. You vaguely recognize it, turning to a familiar face that matches the maturity of the voice. It’s him, because who else would it be? “Charles?” You say, and you feel twenty-something and insanely vulnerable again.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“My boy.” You explained. 

“And, his father?” He asked, something strained in his voice. Hope, maybe. Or boredom. You don’t know him the way you once did, and he’s even more closed off than before. 

“What about him?”

“Is he here?” He said, hanging, something unsaid stuck on his tongue. You gave him the room to speak. “With you?”

You shook your head. “He’s here, but. We’re. I’m divorced.” You admit, something about it still sounds so taboo, so scandalous. Like it’s something you should be ashamed of. “You?”

“Widowed.” He said, and you inhaled sharply. 

“What was her name?” You don’t know why you said it, but it was coming out of your mouth before you could catch yourself, before you could express your sympathy. He told you. You’d never heard a name sound so sad. “I’m so sorry, Charles.” He swatted your words away, shook his head. “What was she like?” His face brightened, like nobody had ever asked what she was like. It was as if he had been desperately waiting to tell someone about her. 

He smiled, thought about it for what felt like a hundred laps. Quietly, practically under his breath, he spoke something you were completely unprepared to hear. “You,” He said. “She was a lot like you.”

<3, mack. hope you enjoyed, if you did, please don't be a ghost reader!

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc blurb #cl16 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 fluff #f1 angst #f1 x you #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfiction #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfics #f1 one shots

[mqsi]

Alright, here’s a pre match smut and that is probably my last post until friday cause I’m very busy! Hope you like this and stay tuned cause I’ll upload during the weekend 🫶🏻

warning: smut

——————————————————————————

Pedri was currently sitting in an empty locker room, hours prior to the match. Since he came so early, nobody could distract his thoughts which is how he ended up with an erection,palming himself trough training clothes.

He actually didn’t have a good reason for coming so early, he was just restless at home and thought this would help. Somewhere along the way you came to his mind. He pulled away from his crotch, taking his phone and texting you to come over at the locker room informing you that ‘its an emergency’.

You were supposed to come to the game anyways but rushed to come over,worrying about your boyfriend. You arrived and barged in the room without a second thought. Pedri instantly got up and walked over to you.

“What happened? Are you okay? Why are you alone in here?” you asked a million questions but Pedri was just standing there, smiling at you.

“Hermosa calm down” he said, his voice low.

“But you said it was an emergency”

He took your hand, placing it over his dick, letting you feel how hard he was.

“It is” he said, smirking.

“Pedri you-“ he stopped you with a kiss. Pedri’s hand found it’s way up to your breast giving it a light squeeze, making you moan into his mouth. Your soft whimpers only made him harder, if that was possible by now. Pulling away from your lips, he looked at you , eyes filled with lust.

“Please” he whispered, once again placing your hand on his bulge.

“What if someone comes in?”

“Guess you have to be quick” he said, winking. You sunk to your knees, lifting up his shirt and kissing down to the waistband of his boxers.

You pulled down his clothes, revealing his cock that had been begging for attention. You took it into your hand, making Pedri hiss, and slowly moved up and down. Your lips made contact with his head, slowly teasing with your tongue.

“Hermosa” Pedri said almost warning you.

You opened your mouth wider, taking more of him in and setting a pace. Pedri moaned, probably louder than he should’ve considering anyone can catch you here anytime but it didn’t matter to him. He gripped the island that was behind him, bucking his hips as a signal for you to speed up.

You obliged, humming around his cock. Pedri gripped your hair harshly, now moving you the way he pleased, his breathing fast and rough.

“Fuck, you’re so good for me. Coming to suck my cock before a match”

Saliva was drippin down the sides of your mouth, but you knew Pedri was close, so you let him continue.

“Hermosa I’m gonna cum. Take it all” he said now holding your head in place and thrusting into your mouth. Pedri’s moans were echoing trough out the empty locker room and you soon felt his hot cum againt your tongue. He pulled away, breathless.

“Swallow”

You got up from the ground, pulling his clothes back in the process and opening your mouth to prove you listened to him.

“Are you gonna play better after this?” You said smiling.

“Is that even a question?”

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#pedri gonzalez #pedri one shot #pedri x y/n #pedri #pedri blurb #pedri smut #pedri fanfic #pedri x you #pedri imagine #pedri x reader #footballer imagine #x reader #pedri barça #yes pedri am good for you #do you think this actually happened to someone #hope you enjoy

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Gray 3

First / Previous / Next

Ma-ren was busy.

Helena had called out so, they were down a server during the lunch rush. Ti'ka helped spread the load, so it wasn't insurmountable, but it was busier than she had been in a while. She had told Fen to stay home today just to give things another day to cool down so Ma-ren felt additional obligation to make some extra money.

A bell sounded, and an unseen hand from the kitchen slid out a plate of pancakes for that new human eating outside. Ma-ren grabbed her plate and the coffee pot and strode out.

"Here are your pancakes, sorry for the wait! Would you like another coffee?" She placed the plate in front of him and made sure he had napkins and syrup.

"I would love another cup, thanks so much." He grinned widely as she poured. "Hey, I'm sorry for staring earlier, you just look familiar."

"Oh it's all right. Maybe I just have that kind of face." Ma-ren flicked her tail and looked back towards the kitchen. "You're new here right? When did you arrive?"

He finished chewing the pancakes and swallowed. "Just came in a couple hours ago on a freighter. I'm going to see if I can find some work and earn enough for passage on to the next station."

"Oh? Where are you headed?" Ma-ren switched to Colonic smoothly. Then, she realized what she was doing, shook her head, and her ears twitched. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't pry. I apologize, you don't have to tell me your business."

He chuckled and waved his hand, dismissively. "I haven't had a chance to speak Colonic in years. It feels good, like dusting an old cabinet. "No, no it's fine. I guess I'm making my way to Lemilar."

"Well, good luck on your journey!"

"Thanks Ma-ren, I'll try." He looked down at his food and then back up. "Actually, Ma-ren, can you recommend a hostel around here? I need a place to stay for a week or two."

Ma-ren laughed. "Friend, there's no place like that for humans or K'laxi here."

The human looked around. "Yeah, I kind of got that impression from the welcome wagon down on the promenade."

"Oh? Did you meet Tam? How much did he shake you down for?"

"He tried for one hundred Stars, but he didn't get any."

Ma-ren blinked. "Wait, you beat up Tam?"

The human shook his head quickly. "No! I just dodged his half-assed punches until he got tired and left."

"Oh I wish I could have been there for that! Someone needs to take Tam down a peg or two. He goes after humans and K'laxi, and not just newbies on the promenade. He comes up here and causes trouble, and when security comes, they harass us." Ma-ren looks back at the kitchen. "Look, I have to get back to work, but anyone who can take on Tam and walk away deserves praise. I've got a couch, you can crash with Fen and I for a day or two while you figure things out."

He blinked. "Are you sure? That's awfully generous. You just met me, I don't even think you know my name."

"Hey, we take care of our own up here. Ancestors know nobody else will. There's no reason for you to sleep out in the common if you don't have to." She winked. "So, what's your name then, friend?"

He suck out his right hand. "I'm Gord. Pleased to meetcha."

Ma-ren leaned back. "What's the hand for?"

Gord looked at her, and then at his hand, and put it down slowly. "Don't worry about it. It's an old greeting."

Ma-ren's ears twitched again. "Well Gord, I'm on for another couple of hours and then I'll take you back to our place. I'll bring you the check for the pancakes, but I can keep the coffee going so the boss doesn't wonder why you're still here."

Gord finished his food and took out a battered pad and read while sipping three or four coffees while Ma-ren finished her shift. When she was finished, she walked out in her street clothes. "Ready Gord?"

Gord snapped the pad shut and picked up his pack. "Sure thing Ma-ren. Lead the way."

She took him to her apartment over on the other side of the floor. As they approached her building, they passed Da'reni sitting out front reading again, his gray muzzle buried in his pad. Ma-ren waved. "Hey Da'reni, I've got a boarder for a couple of days. New arrival."

Da'reni grunted and flicked his eyes up. He did a double take and stared. His ears flattened, and he looked like he was going to say something. Then, he fluffed his fur and grunted and went back to his pad. "Careful, newbie. You've got that kind of face. The one that gets security called up here."

Gord raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Ma-ren's tail flicked. "Don't worry Gord, that's just how Da'reni is. Come on, you can come up and meet Fen and get settled.

Ma-ren bounded up the stairs while Gord walked more carefully. When she got to the apartment door, she touched the locking stud and the door buzzed and opened with a loud click. "Fen hon, I'm back and I bought a friiiiiiiiend!"

There was bustling from the kitchen area. "Oh, who is it? Did you drag Helena back again?"

Ma-ren laughed. "Nah, newbie off a freighter. Get this, he managed to dodge getting beat up by Tam!"

Fen leaned around the corner, face covered in flour and a towel draped across her shoulder. "Okay, you win. Hey newbie, I'm Fen."

He waved. "Gord."

"Sit Gord, you drink tea? Too bad, I'm making some. I'll have cookies out in an hour."

Gord, Fen and Ma-ren sat around their small table, drinking tea while Gord brought Fen up to speed and telling them about dodging Tam.

"Shit Gord, I know how hard Tam can hit-" Fen rubbed her cheek "-first hand, and the fact that you dodged him is nothing short of impressive."

"Oh, it wasn't so much, but thanks all the same. He really telegraphs his moves, and I know that a Gren really only has three or four punches in them." Gord sipped his tea politely.

Gord put his cup down. "So Fen, Ma-ren how long have you been here? Sure seems like they are trying to get all the humans and k'laxi to move along."

Fen and Ma-ren shared a look and then laughed. "Oh Gord, we were born and raised here. Most of the time, the station authorities ignore us. Our parents came in on Spyglass and these days it's not going anywhere so we just... stayed."

Gord blinked. "Wait, Spyglass? The Starjumper? She's here? Where?"

Fen raised an eyebrow. "Docking bays thirty three through forty. We have a big fundraiser every year to pay the docking fees. We probably should just scrap it, but we can't bring ourselves to do it. It saved all of us."

Gord looked at them in horror. "Scrap her? No, you can't do that! Have you even asked her what she thinks of that?"

Ma-ren looked at Gord carefully. "Her? Gord, Spyglass is a ship. A creaky, old, cold, human made ship. It's probably the oldest thing on this station by a long shot. It's not alive."

Gord boggled. He shut his mouth and took a deep breath in, and then out again though his nose. He picked up his tea and Ma-ren noticed his hand was shaking. "Gord? What are you not telling us?"

At that, Gord smiled. "Quite a lot, actually. But that's neither here nor there." He sipped his tea, took another cleansing breath and seemed to collect himself. "Can we go over to Spyglass? Can we go in her?"

Fen shrugged. "I mean, it-she's cold. The reactors failed decades ago, but she's not like, guarded. We used to play there as kids."

"Will you take me there? It's important. I need to see something." For the first time since they met, Ma-ren noticed that Gord was nervous.

"S-sure Gord. We can head over." Fen looked up at the clock over the stove. "Curfew isn't for a few cycles, let's go now."

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #writing #humans and aliens #jpitha #sci fi writing #humans and ai #Between the black and Gray

[cookie-crumblr]

AU’s With Alastair~

Animal hybrid AU

Part 1

!!MINORS DNI!!

CW: F! reader/reader has a vagina, NSFW, reader and allie are owned by a human, treated like animals, heat, non human genitalia(he has a barbed cock), lactation kink, loss of consciousness, breeding kink, creampie, biting,

!!MINORS DNI!!

You were born to a cute cow lady, and Alastair to a gorgeous feline. It all seemed completely meant to be, as you came to be at the same time.

At least he saw it that way.

You and him grew up always by each others sides’ on a farm in the countryside, far away from anything else.

His mom abandoned him with his little sister and brother, which you don’t think is uncommon for cat folk.

But you bet it would be hard for anyone, let alone a small child that now has to care for two other children with only himself.

You are both older now.

Once your respective cycles started, you had to start taking short breaks from each other.

And now you’re old enough to “work” on the farm like the other hucow ladies…

“Alright girl, you’ll have to settle with a bull eventually,” The farmer spoke a little agitatedly or maybe just tiredly, either way your heart wracked intensely with guilt.

Today had felt so painfully long.

The farmer brought bull hybrids in from all across the country to court you…

Your big eyes stay downcast, wetness clumping your pretty lashes. “I know… ‘m sorry sir, I jus’… Don’t love any of them proper.”

The farmer lets out a long sigh, “Get some rest, Y/N”

Neither you nor the farmer were aware of Alastair watching from the second story window of the bright red barn.

“That stupid farmer.” His ear flicks irritatedly as he thinks. “only caring about production, and not for Y/N at all…” His fists ball while burning holes into the side of the farmer’s head with his stare. “Why’s it gotta be a bull anyway?” He wonders.

Has a hybrid of another species been able to impregnate another hybrid before?

He’s absolutely sure it’s possible.

If not, he’ll make it possible.

Besides, nobody loves you more than he does.

A breeze passes through your hair, and flows all the way up to Allie. Ears now perked up and swiveled all the way toward you, he can smell your heat coming.

That’s probably why the farmer is in such a rush to get you mated.

Alastair has always stayed away from you while you both were on your cycles, for fear of ruining what you have together.

This time he can’t.

Tomorrow he’ll stay with you.

Another evening comes and Alastair finds you whining and writhing in your stable, you’re clearly burning up and desperate.

Face shining with sweat, with barely any clothes on, and the fabric that does try and cover you, is instead stuck to your skin, showing him your peaked nipples and your puffy, glistening lips through it.

He stops in his tracks, mouth agape, his tiny fangs peaking out from behind his lips.

He doesn’t really know what he was expecting.

But god, it wasn’t this…

He thought he was ready.

His shorts are feeling uncomfortably tighter.

You notice him as he swallows.

“Allie! uhm….” You start to cover up with a jean jacket, and he rushes over to you.

“Y/N, it’s… *ahem*… It’s okay! I’m actually here to help!”

“Allie…” Tears stain your cheeks. You get on your knees and present to him, “Then… Please, help me.”

A harsh swallow bobs his addams apple, making his choker shift.

He’s ready.

He takes his claws to your shorts and rips right through them, the freedom, and chill of the air sends shivers through your body.

He untied the silk ribbon he uses as a belt, and undid his shorts.

Next his crochet sweater was discarded to the hay covered ground.

“Wait, Y/N… I-wanttofaceyou…”

You oblige, thinking he’s adorable, and roll over, legs spread, inviting him in.

You’re breathing heavily.

He lifts your top exposing your chest.

Then he leans down to literally kitten lick your nipple, and gently flicks the other one, taking turns for both without leaving the other.

The effect is maddening.

You’re whimpering and throwing your head this way and that. Little “pleases” and “oh my goodnesses” falling from your part lips.

He smiles at this, getting the exact reactions he’s always imagined from you. His perfect beloved.

Dick now taken in his hand, he slaps your puffy cunt, before rubbing it down.

Something kind of stings as he drags down, but it’s so hot and hard it feels like everything you need right now.

“Please, Alastair… I want you inside me… I… really do love you.” You say desperation, and truth seeping from your words.

He almost breaks hearing those four words at the end, but he sets that aside for after, when he can just cuddle you. And tell you how much he’s always loved you.

His tip slides into your desperately wet hole, opening you further.

“Ahhh” You shudder as you begin to feel that which your body craves.

He slowly bottoms out, and stays there, feeling you pulse around him. His head becoming light.

He has to move.

He pulls out quick to snap him back in control of himself.

“AHHH!” You barely make out the scream as your own voice as you black out in an instant. Sharp pain and harsh, hot pleasure zapping through your insides at the same time as if a lightning bolt came down and smited you.

“Y/N! Y/N! Oh no, oh fuck, oh god” Alastair babbles as he accidentally slides back into you, to meet his face to yours.

He cradles you, his body smaller than yours, but he’s always been way stronger than he appears.

“Y/N…”

You come to only seconds later, your body burning hotter than before, you gasp, and pant.

“Allie? what… happened…”

“I didn’t think….” he’s crying into your neck. “I-I… I’m so sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t of-”

“It felt so good…”

“What?” His cheeks reddened. “I mean, are you sure?”

Ending his thought you brought his face down to yours for a kiss. He rocked deeper into you In response.

You felt that familiar drag, as he rocked back slightly, before jamming himself in all the way.

“You like that? You want me to plow into you?” His demeanor completely changed in a split second. “Say Squishmallow if you want me to stop.” He leans in to whisper, and then kisses your neck.

You nod enthusiastically.

His hand finds your tit, when he looks down suddenly. “Wait, Y/N! Look! You really don’t need a bull!” he holds his now wet hand up.

You shift to look down and sure enough you’re lactating!

He hurries to shove one in his mouth and begins to suck, and lick as he paws at the fatty part. This is your first time being milked, and it’s your best friend!

It feels heavenly.

his tongue doing laps around you.

You cry out, “Alastair!” followed by a series of “Oh”’s

He starts pushing as deep as he can go into you.

He pulls out slow this time, as he does the pleasure mixes with pain and you feel yourself producing more and more milk, it’s building up so fast in the one he’s neglecting.

“Please! hah! swap!” You moan exasperated.

He releases with a hearty *pop!* And quickly switches to your other breast, not leaving the other one defenseless this time, he squeezes and rubs circles around your nipple.

“Your milk tastes so good, Y/N, this farm is so lucky!” his eyes are clouded over now with lust.

He’s all the way out of you again, and he slams back in with all of his might causing you to bounce.

“Ahh!” You’re almost shaking it feels so good! “M-More!” you moan.

He obliges and pulls out not as slow, but still slow enough you don’t pass out again. Then he sets the pace for the session.

Slamming into you over and over again, your legs and hips folding more and more each time so he can get impossibly deeper.

He’s purring now, vibrating your sensitive buds as he alternates and sucks on each one, never leaving either unattended.

His skin is slamming against yours, and you swear at this point you feel him hitting your cervix.

You need his cum so badly, your body burns with this sole desire as you’re becoming so overstimulated.

You’re sure you’re babbling nonsense at this point but he continues to pound you as if he has no other purpose but to breed you right here, right now.

“Are you close?”

“Yesh,” you let out a breathy slur, mind hazy and floating with the stars above.

He pounds impossibly harder, rocking your bodies into the wooden wall of the stable.

You hold on for dear life as you come undone around his cock.

Seconds later with one final thrust and he’s shooting thick, hot ropes into you. You feel so full and your temperature starts to decrease back to normal instantly.

You squeeze him, as he lets go of your chest with another satisfied *pop*

“I love you, Allie…”

“I love you too, Y/N, so freaking much.”

He stays inside you as he readjusts to cuddle on top of you, limbs tangled, and both of you breathing heavily.

A little too soon later and the farmer is walking in, he doesn’t give you even a chance to hide Alastair, before spying you both.

“What is this?!”

“Sorry sir!” You sit up, tipping Allie off of you

“Woah!” He exclaims, as he slips, sliding out of you, his cum leaking onto the floor.

“AH!” You squeal from his exit, as milk sprays from your still engorged tits.

The farmer’s eyes widen, “Well… I can’t really complain with this outcome.” He takes his hat off to scratch his balding head. “Well Alastair, looks like you officially work for me now, specifically with Y/N.” he turns to leave mumbling, “if it works, it works i guess… How come i ain’t never thought of cat folk?”

You both giggle, before your temp starts to rise again.

“Allie! Help?”

“Yes, ma’am!” he folds you over yourself again, and slips in easier this time.

“Oh, you’re perfectly prepped from last round… Remember the safe word?”

“mmhmm!”

This time he bends over to your neck and bites you as he pulls out. It hurts in both places, but it feels so good, like an electric shock going straight through your body to your core.

He’s back to purring loudly as he starts to slam back into your abused and throbbing pussy.

You both come quicker this time, your moans and his mewls becoming one mini orchestra to your fuzzy ears.

His tail swishing with his motions, and yours sticking straight out, as tensed as your curled toes.

You feel his hot cum filling you up for the second time, you can tell it’s even more this time, and your own orgasm milks him for everything he’s worth.

This time after, you both drift off into a comfortable sleep, while holding eachother close as possible.

When you wake again, you’ll still have eachother, and you’ll be together for whatever comes next…

#my oc #oc x reader #oc x you #yandere #my fic #yandere x reader #yandere x you #femboy x reader #femboy oc #femboy vampire #reader x femboy #femboy #femboy cat hybrid #cat boy #hucow reader #oc alastair

[yulin-pop]

⤷ ✧ Vil Schoenheit with a crush

Gender neutral

- order 56 | Headcanons | Vil

Note: It felt like I was writing an argumentative essay for some reason. Also he’s very pretty and I love him. Tbh I’m reluctant to post this since this isn’t very romantic :(

⇥ Rook Hunt • Idia Shroud ⇤

He’s so disappointed. He has high standards and there’s nobody who has reached those standards. However, he still has a crush on you.

Vil is some what annoyed with his own feelings. Yeah it’s somewhat directed towards you. He’s both simping for you and death glaring you.

He’s all about appearances so of course he’s gonna look his best whenever he’s around you. Even if it doesn’t matter to you, he appreciates that but he’s doing it for himself. He’s just especially charming and is glowing more than usual when he’s with you.

He’s gonna be flirting hella hard but will get very upset if you stay oblivious or dismiss him. He’s trying so hard for you please at least acknowledge him.

If he’s gonna be with you, then you have to look almost as good as him (not as good, nobody could be better than him/hj). He hands you a bunch of beauty products and tells you to use them every single day. He made sure that it worked on your type of skin and everything.

Plus he styles you, he’s really making sure you look perfect. One wrinkle in your clothes and he’s freaking out and scolding you (in a loving way).

All of this sounds very negative but he’s actually really sweet. He defends you no matter what. Some people say stuff about how you don’t deserve his attention and such however that’s not true. He knows that.

He’s also a very effective tutor. Some people would think he would get mad if you didn’t get something but if you were putting in actual effort then he’s gonna help you no matter how long it takes.

Also he genuinely thinks you’re beautiful in your own way already. It’s not the traditional type of beauty but he still finds it compelling. He wants to enhance that beauty yk.

He takes you out a lot. He has the money and he would gladly spent a good amount of money on you. He liked taking you out because you two look like an actual couple. He takes pictures and he has a whole album of pictures dedicated to you. He knows better not to post them but he just looks at them and smiles. (Love is real guys)

He only admits this in his head but you give him a strong feeling that hes never felt before. It’s a happy feeling that he only ever feels around you. He never wants the moment to end.

But honestly, he’s gonna get more and more direct with you.

It’s obvious that you’re important to Vil since people see him scolding you and pampering you like Epel but different. It seems less obligation but love.

That look in his eyes makes it seem like he’s about to kiss you sometimes.

It’s no secret to Rook. Rook makes comments about his love for you, Vil isn’t surprised that Rook caught on. He won’t deny it to Rook however he is fighting for his life against anybody else.

He’s denying it so hard because it would be bad if it got out “Vil Schoenheit has a secret lover!!” He doesn’t feel like dealing with that.

Also you and Epel best friends because you two get similar treatment except you get privileges and he doesn’t.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit

[maopll]

Can I please request the Heartslabyul boys reacting to you ‘forgetting’ to give them a good morning kiss?

Where's my kiss ?

| twisted wonderland !

⌗:, a/n: good morning kisses are a no from me if I'm not in the mood. ain't nobody wanna give someone a stinky ass kiss 😭 but I'll do it for the sake of this fanfic <3

⌗:, warning: fluff

⌗:, pairings: ace, deuce, trey, riddle, cater w/ gn!reader

ACE TRAPPOLA

You always give him a goodnight, good morning and a goodbye kiss. you've never forgotten to kiss him. if there are days when you haven't kissed him he will demand them no matter what the situation and you have to listen to him whims.

today you had other plans. what if you don't kiss him? you couldn't resist yourself after seeing other people do it too.

so here you are getting out of bed sneakily after not giving him a kiss. you went with your daily chores after you saw a dishelved ace telling you "Where's my kiss? :("

he looked like a three year old after having their candy stolen. you were trying your best not to laugh at his state but he caught onto your lips curling up.

how DARE YOU

he made it a point to you to always kiss him so why were you depriving him of his sole way of getting his daily dose of serotonin?

he annoyed you to have you kiss him and ofcourse you obliged! you just can't miss the feeling of his soft cheeks against your lips as you smother his face with kisses.

DEUCE SPADE

he is such a sweet boyfriend that he actually got really hesitant to ask you why you did not kiss him good morning. he thought maybe you were angry at him for whatever he has done and he got really tensed because he couldn't remember what he did to annoy you enough to not even kiss him :(

he slowly hugged you from behind and started apologising like crazy and he even said "love I'm sorry for what I've done I really am but please don't hate me too much to not even kiss me"

deuce may put up a good behaviour infront of others showing how perfect he can be but his behaviour of being like that absolutely melts in your arms when you kiss him. he is very different from how he shows himself to be in front of the public eye.

you weren't answering because you were trying your best to hold in your laughter but he caught on the way your shoulders were shaking and you definitely were not crying because he knows your acts and behaviourisms like the back of his hand

he is so mad at you now for trying to prank him like that

"I can't believe you [name] I'm going"

"WAIT COME BACK BABY IM SORRY"

He didn't reject your kisses and daily dose of affection.

TREY CLOVER

he is not thinking that much about how you 'forgot' to give him his morning kiss after waking up in his arms after cuddling so much with him last night

he knew it was another one of your shenanigans so he wasn't quote bothered by it until he has had enough

your kisses are like a lucky charm to him even if they may have some kind of placebo effect on him he still believes it's your kisses that makes him have a good day.

at the end of the day he returned with most of his energy exhausted because he had a pretty bad day because of you forgot to give him something.

"baby I know what you are trying to do...please kiss me I can't do it anymore"

you kisses him on his forehead, cheeks, eyelids, and lips and he wants more now.

you two shared kisses and cuddles for an hour until he has had his fill.

poor baby held whatever piece of patience he had throughout the day until he got to you.

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

he wakes up with your morning kisses but today he woke up a bit late because you did not kiss him

he was so agitated because he was getting late for his class by 2 minutes !!

how could you do this to him !

off with your head /j

he was genuinely offended and annoyed because you did not give him his energy boost for the day

he flipped at whoever crossed his way because you just committed a big crime

ace and deuce were scared of him getting so angry so they brought you infront of him to take matters into your own hands and they were too afraid of doing something that might make him render them immobile or something.

they left the school ground to leave you two alone to do your bidding...more like get his emotions checked

a kiss on the cheek was enough to turn his full face blushing red like the tart he was eating.

he coughed and said blush still evident on his face "I will accept this kiss as a form of your apology towards the behaviour showed me today...don't do it again [name]...please"

you heard most of what he said but that "please" was so soft cause he mumbled it but you caught onto what he said.

with a cheeky grin you continued painting his face with kisses

ace and deuce heaved a sigh of relief as their dorm leader finally isn't angry anymore

CATER DIAMOND

I definitely did not forget about cater

Usually you two have a kiss fight(?) in the morning. the first one who wakes the other one up with kisses has to have the other give them kisses for the whole day including cuddles and a whole lot of affection

usually you would win but today you were feeling devious so you got out of bed without kissing him. he was a bit awake but his eyes bust open when you cooly opened the door and went your merry way

he sat up straight and grabbed his phone ready to cancel you out on social media

how could you do this to him

so he pestered you throughout the day

he told you and practically gave you a presentation on WHY you should kiss him

you were soon growing tired

you wanted to prank him but looks like it's an uno reverse moment now

you finally gave in and kissed him which shut his yapping.

he was silent for a while but he soon recovered and returned your kiss

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst ace #ace x yuu #ace fluff #twst deuce #heartslabyul #heartslabyul x reader #deuce x yuu #deuce fluff #twst trey #trey fluff #trey x yuu #riddle x yuu #riddle fluff #twst riddle #cater twst #cater x reader #cater diamond

[lonelycowgirls]

Been There All Along

Another concept nobody asked me for coming in hot...

I don't know about you, but I love the thought of Harry being in a long-term relationship. Call me old-fashioned, but the idea of him being truly in love with one special person since before One Direction just makes me feel all the feels!✨

So, I took influence from @satanhalsey's Since Forever universe - if you haven't read their writing you simply must because it's amazing - and here is my take.

For a bit of background, Stella is a midwife and Harry is everything he is in real life. This is a taster to their story, I'll see if you all like it first...

Please like, reblog and follow if you enjoy it!

My asks are also open for feedback and ideas to how this universe can continue.

Nel xxx

~

Where Stella goes to Harry’s last night at Madison Square Garden and gets a call that could change everything

Part one of two

“He’s so amazing, Stell.  You must be so proud.”

Stella nodded to Jeff, Harry’s manager, who stood beside her in the arena.  She couldn’t believe that little Harry Styles from Cheshire was selling out 15 consecutive shows in New York City.  After 13 years together, she’d seen him play endless amounts of shows, not all of them he’d left feeling happy with but every one of them feeling grateful.  He’d been blessed and in turn, she’d been blessed too.  But they’d been through hardship recently, and she was beginning to lose faith in them as a couple and him as a partner - something she’d never seen coming.

“You’ve become exactly what we always feared.  You’ve become selfish and egotistical… you’re all... Hollywood now.  Remember who you are, Harry.  Remember the kind of person you wanted to be.  Remember us… Remember where you came from.”

That was the last thing she’d said to him before he’d hung up on her in a huff.  But she was there, of course, at the last show of his residency.  Because she was always there.  She was starting to worry that that was their problem.  She was always there, no matter what.  He, on the other hand, couldn’t always be there.  He’d missed her graduation from her midwifery course because he was on tour with the band.  He’d missed her beloved Granddad's funeral because he had a movie premiere he was contractually obliged to attend.  He’d missed her brother’s wedding because, “we’re running really behind on the album, Stell.  I can’t miss a single day, the release date is literally a month away.”  She’d cried all evening from embarrassment.  And from the seven shots of tequila that she’d downed before the first dance.

But still, she was always there.  Because she loved him and she loved being there.

They hadn’t spoken since he’d hung up on her that night she’d had a go at him.  She wasn’t someone who lost her temper easily, so it truly shocked Harry when she spoke to him in the manner that she had.  He was shaking when he’d hung up the phone.  Out of anger mostly, but also out of fear.  Fear that he could actually lose her this time.  That all they’d been through would be a waste.  He didn’t know what being without her was like.  They’d been a partnership since they were teenagers.  13 years on, he didn’t know his world without her.

She clapped along to Treat People With Kindness and did an awkward small two-step to Cinema, inwardly cringing at, “you’re getting yourself wet for me,” just like she always did.  Harry hadn’t even written that line but Tom knew the fans would love it.  She didn’t like the line and thought it was too on the nose and tactless.  Harry was clever and artistic when he wrote music.  And they were so private as a couple that it cringed her out to no end to think other people were thinking about and imagining their sex life.  Never once had he uttered those words to her because they both knew it would kill the mood. She loved when he talked dirty to her, but not if it sounded like he'd ripped it straight off a porn film.

She actually felt nervous in those moments before the encore.  She knew he’d want to see her but she didn’t want to feel the awkward tension that would probably encase the room that surrounded them.  She got her phone out to look at the time and saw a text from a friend at work.

George: 9.55pm

Mel’s gone into labour

George: 9.55pm

Got it dealt with but thought you might want to come in to support her x

George: 10.02pm

Let me know!

The hair on her arms stood up on end.  She’d been reviewing Melanie’s pregnancy for practically the whole eight months, she wasn’t due for another three weeks.  She’d grown very fond of her as a patient and knew that she was having the baby regardless of the fact the father wanted nothing to do with them.  She vowed that she wouldn’t miss the birth and would be there to support her.  Trouble was that she was thousands of miles away… in New York.  Harry had the means to get her back in six hours but she didn’t know how he might feel if she was to shoot off while they were having issues.  Just as Harry was rising back to the stage to sing Sign of the Times she tapped Jeff on the shoulder and held up her phone to signal she was taking a call.  He nodded and turned back to cheer on his friend.

Stella: 10.09pm

How far along, G?! x

George: 10.09pm

Not far at all, water’s only just broke and no contractions

George: 10.09pm

She’s only just left her house

George: 10.10pm

Wouldn’t have messaged if I thought you wouldn’t make it

Stella bit her lip in thought as Jeff put a hand on her shoulder, she jumped and swung around.  “Last song.”  He said in her ear, meaning it was almost time to head backstage.  Harry usually headed straight to the vans waiting outside, meeting Stella in the backseat and the two of them journeying back to their hotel.  Tonight they were planning to celebrate a little longer at the venue with the crew. Jeff said the arena had a surprise for Harry and that when the last song came on they would all move together to a designated area closer to the stage so that Harry could see them clearly.

She followed Jeff and the rest of Harry’s extensive entourage behind security guards.  She thought about the afterparty and tried to imagine herself drinking and mingling whilst she knew Melanie was giving birth, without her. It was Harry’s last night at The Garden… but she had to go.  She glanced back up at Harry on the stage, and then caught sight of Olivia’s silhouette dancing wildly with her friends to Kiwi.  She questioned whether if she left tonight, the shoulder Harry would choose to cry on would be Olivia's.  Would she be pushing him straight into her arms?  She shook her head to rid the thought and made the decision.  She turned and split from the group to rush back to Harry’s dressing room and pack her bag.  There wasn’t time to go back to the hotel, she’d have to hop a jet with what she’d brought to the arena.  Luckily, she always carried her passport as ID when she was in foreign countries.  Her hands shook with adrenaline as she used one to stuff things into her tote and one to call Harry’s travel manager.

“Stella?  What are you doing?”  Jeff said from the doorway.  She glanced at him before snapping back to put the phone to her ear.

“I’ve gotta get back home, Jeff.  Ugh, why aren’t you picking up the bloody phone?!”  She groaned in frustration as she redialed the number.

“I can get you a cab back to the hotel, Stell.  Just let me g-,”

“No, I mean I need to get on a plane back to the UK and these bloody people aren’t answering!”  She began to anger.  Jeff frowned and turned when he heard footsteps down the hallway.  Harry’s brow furrowed as he caught eyes with his confused manager who just shook his head back before stepping aside to allow him to enter the room.

“Stell?  You alright?”  His first response was to be concerned at how flustered she looked.  But he felt uncharacteristically nervous in her presence because of how they’d left their last conversation.  He stepped across the threshold as she put the last of her belongings into her bag and zipped it closed.  “Going somewhere?”  He laughed humourlessly, never expecting her to actually be leaving on a night like that.  One of the most special moments in his career.  He’d looked over, teary-eyed, to where he thought she’d be stood as his commemorative banner dropped and he saw everyone but her.  He saw Jeff, Glenne, James, and even Olivia.  He imagined there would be an influx of gifs and videos of his face falling all over social media by the time he got into bed that night and unlocked his phone.

He saw her bursting tote bag and felt his stomach turn over.  “Has something happened?  Is your mum okay?”  He said turning her to look at him with hands on her shoulders.

“Yes, Harry.  Everyone’s fine but I need to go home,” she looked up at him and sighed, avoiding his eyes.  “I need a plane.”

“Oh, why?  Urgently?” She’d shaken off his hands from her shoulders and was heading for the door.  “Stell, everyone’s in the other room waiting to celebrate.  You need to tell me what’s going on or I’ll start to think this is it.”  Stella's shoulders sank and she sighed deeply.  Even just hearing him talk about them ending like that made her feel sick.

“I need to go back home because a patient of mine is in labour.  George texted me during the show.”

“Seriously?  You want to travel eight hours to see some woman give birth, something you see every day, when we haven’t seen each other in weeks?  When I haven’t seen you since you had a go at me over the phone?”  She swung back around and jumped when she realised how close he was.  He looked angry, but when Harry looked angry he looked about as intimidating as a growling puppy.

"Come with me then!"

"Really? That's unfair, you know I can't do that." He said defeatedly. "Stell, she's just another patient, you'll have hundreds more to take care of in your lifetime." He said, softer, trailing his fingers down her arms to hold her hands in an effort to convince her. She snatched her hands away.

“Are you serious right now?”  She poked his sweaty chest.  “She’s not just a patient, she’s a woman in my care.    She’s someone I’ve spent most of my time with for nearly a year and someone I’ve grown to care about.” She turned to walk down the hallway, him following close after her.  She whipped around again in frustration. “You’d know all about it if you paid attention to anyone talking about anything that wasn’t to do with you.”  His eyes blazed and he opened his mouth to argue before they heard someone pointedly knock on the wall.

“Hey, H, we’re all waiting to toast you.”  Olivia smiled from the doorway of the catering room.  They both turned to look at her and Stella breathed deeply through her nose and glared at Harry when he glared back.

“Go on, H," She made a point of using the nickname.  "You deserve to celebrate.”

“Stella,”

“Just get me a plane and I’ll be out of your hair.”  She smiled, short and tight-lipped, checking her phone for the time, every second she spent arguing with Harry was time she couldn’t afford to waste.  He stepped forward so that Olivia couldn’t hear as clearly.

“If you think it's more important, sure, I’ll get you the plane.”  His nostrils flared but she stayed stoic.  “This hurts me though, Stell." She softened slightly at his words. "How do you think it’s gonna look to everyone that you raced off somewhere instead of being here for me?”  Stella scoffed. She couldn’t even force herself to argue with him anymore, she couldn’t believe how selfish he’d become.  She didn’t even want to look at him, he was nothing like the boy she’d fallen in love with.  She took her gaze to the floor to keep from rolling her eyes.  He nodded in submission.  “I’ll go get Jeff to sort the plane out.  Hope you get there safe.”

Stella sat in her aeroplane seat, taking deep breaths to keep herself calm as they flew over France.  She was so close to returning to the UK and ached to take her phone off of safety mode.  But a part of her was thankful to switch off, to be forced to stop doom scrolling through endless pictures and videos of Harry that fans would post on social media after a show.  She prayed that Melanie was holding back, that she’d make it on time.  The way she’d left things with Harry made her very anxious, to the point where she’d picture him and feel nauseous with anxiety.  They’d never been in such a state.  She questioned every move she’d made leading up to boarding that plane. The plane that he would end up paying for.  She shook her head and leaned it back on the headrest, closing her eyes and running her hands over her face.  She didn’t want to cry in front of the crew, she couldn’t trust whether they’d be taking pictures, despite it being a private plane company.  All the years with Harry had caused her to become paranoid.

“Would you like another coffee, Miss Mallone?”  Stella jumped again, the day’s events had caused her to have the serenity of a doe in headlights.

“Oh, yes, please.  Thank you so much.” She said, smiling softly at the kind air hostess, she looked barely 21 years old.  ‘Caitlin’ was written on her gold badge pinned to the lapel of her sleek navy blue skirt suit.  Caitlin probably knew exactly who she was, and probably wondered why Harry wasn’t on the plane with her.  Stella went red with embarrassment and awkwardness and lifted the beige cashmere blanket up to her chin.  She rolled over to her side in her reclined seat and stared out at the passing clouds through the small plastic window.  She glanced at her watch, around ten past eight in the morning back in London.  About five o’clock in the morning back in New York.  She thought of Harry,  she couldn’t help it.  He’d probably just be getting back to the hotel after a night of celebrations.  He’d flip the lamp on, and see her suitcase that she’d had to leave to go straight to the airport.  He’d roll his eyes as he collected up her makeup that was sprawled across the bed where she’d sat in her fluffy hotel dressing gown an hour before the show, dragging eyeliner across her lids in a rush because, as always, she’d been running late.  He’d see her neatly folded stack of fresh underwear and pyjamas that rested on top of her pillow, ready for when they stumbled through the door, full of Champagne bubbles and Don Julio shots, giggling with wandering hands and greedy lips.  Perhaps he’d smile a bit at the clothing knowing she’d done the same thing since the first time she’d stayed the night at his mum's house.  He’d imagine her doing the same for their children, so they could have cosy memories of when they stayed at big fancy hotels away from home with mum and dad.

She opened her eyes when she felt a slight shove to her shoulder and turned to see Caitlin again, the lights were off, replaced with a low twinkle from the warm strips that glowed from the overhead bag compartments.  

“Miss Mallone, apologies for disturbing your nap.  We’re preparing to land in ten minutes.”  Stella nodded, still a bit out of it and wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth and cheek with her thumb.  Caitlin helped her push her seat back up from its reclined position and handed her a glass of water, assuming correctly that she’d have a dry mouth.

“Thank you, Caitlin.”

“You’re welcome.  Is there anything else I can do for you, Miss Mallone?”

“No, thank you, you’ve been fantastic,”  Stella smiled genuinely at the young girl who nodded.  “Just ready to get home now.”  She leaned forward to take a big gulp of water before resting back, clipping her seatbelt and bracing for landing.

As soon as the tyres hit the tarmac and she was ensured that she could turn her phone off aeroplane safety mode, Stella called George.  She skipped over the texts from Pauli checking on her and went straight to dial.

“Hiya Stell, she’s still going,” Stella sighed deeply in immense relief.  She grabbed her bag with the phone to her ear and nodded to the flight crew as they lined up to show her off the aircraft.  “Where are you now?”

“Literally just getting off the plane,” she walked over to the car that had been organised to take her straight to London Royal Hospital.  “Tell her I’m coming, won’t you?”

“She already knows, she said to tell you you’re mad!”  Stella chuckled and sunk back into the soft leather, thankful for the heated seats after coming straight from the heat of New York City, and being dressed accordingly.  She stressed to George to keep her updated and then hung up.  Tapping through to the messages app, she navigated to Pauli's chat.

Pauli: 10.24am

You good, S?

Pauli: 10.35am

H said you dipped, you've spun him out

Me: 11.02am

Tell him I’m fine x

She tapped out the message and locked her phone to watch London go by as she sped to her destination.  She was fine, regardless of how she couldn’t sit still and how her hair had become greasy with how many times she’d raked her fingers through it.  She thought it was nice of Pauli to check on her, but she knew Harry was pissed off and would most likely be puking up the walls by now.  He never handled anger well. With all the free booze, she knew he would be taking everything offered to him when he was in a certain headspace.  She just hoped Olivia wasn’t an option on that list.  But she couldn’t imagine him doing something so hurtful.

Finally, the driver pulled up after getting stuck in what felt like endless traffic.  She rushed through the double doors of the hospital and ran past the desk to the lifts, bashing the button to call it.

“Morning, Val!” She exclaimed as the maternity check-in clerk frowned in her direction, confused as to what she was doing there when she’d booked the week off.  

“What on earth ya doing here, girl?” She yelled brashly in her Jamaican accent, waddling behind Stella as she whipped her way through the ward towards the staff changing rooms to get into her uniform.

“I couldn’t miss Mel’s birth.”  The older woman’s face fell before she kissed her teeth and threw her arms in the air, stomping and mumbling back out to man the desk.  Thankful to be ridding herself of the clothes she’d travelled almost seven hours in, she opened her locker and grabbed her scrubs and shoes.  She bundled her hair into a, ‘as neat as it’s going to get,’ top knot and washed her hands and forearms with warm soapy water.  She took a deep breath in the mirror and tapped at her under-eye bags to try and get the blood flowing and skin de-puffing.  Stuffing her belongings into her locker she exited the changing room and as luck would have it, ran straight into George, the head of her department.

“You’re here!” He said, wide-eyed.  “Come on, she’s well on her way now.  Doing brilliantly.”  He marched ahead of her back to the ward and drew back the curtain to where Melanie was led, belly strapped up and gas and air flowing.  “Got a visitor for you, Mel.”

Melanie’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head when she saw Stella peek around the corner.  “Oh my God!” She tried to get out but it came muffled due to the tube she was holding in her mouth.  Stella manoeuvred herself around the side of her bed into Mel’s open arms for a squeeze.  “You must be mad, Stell.  Oough.” She groaned the last part, contractions taking over.

“Alright, how are we doing with examinations?  Dilation stats?”

“She was at four centimetres half an hour ago.  Contractions seem to be every three minutes.”

“Okay, so we’re definitely in active labour.  Shall we do another quick check?”  Mel groaned again and took a good pull off the tube, turning onto her back and spreading her legs.  It’s true when they say dignity goes out the door in childbirth.  Stella manoeuvred the stool over to where Melanie’s legs were perched on medical stirrups.  “Okay,” she said, lubing up her gloved fingers and diving right in.  “Hmm, just relax for me, Mel.  That’s it, well done.”  Mel leaned her head back and groaned in pain as she contracted once again, the pangs coming faster as time went on.  Stella pulled her hand out and passed the glove to George to get rid of.  “That’s about seven centimetres.  Time to get you through to the delivery room I’d say.”  Stella grinned excitedly at Melanie, she always tried to keep the energy positive during labours, especially for first-time mothers who would usually be terrified.  She moved up to the head of the bed and stroked back Melanie's hair away from her forehead. She was well and truly sucking the life out of the gas and air machine by then.  Her watery blue eyes stared up at Stella with worry and pain.  “It’s all going to be fine.  We’ve got you.”

The room turned to chaos as the curtain was yanked back and nurses flanked each side of Melanie’s bed as they wheeled it to the nearest free delivery room.

~

Part two coming soon!

Author's note: I realise this is the second angsty piece I've posted on here... we're 2/2 now.

I guess I really am a messy bitch who loves drama.

#harry styles fic rec #harry styles #harry styles writing #fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles series #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles headcanon #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic

[secondjulia]

Rough... but soft? (A fic in honor of Hob Gadling's thighs)

Hob's chest hair is practically a character in Dreamling fic, but is nobody going to appreciate these bear legs? Because I will. I volunteer for the task.

Summary: Hob wakes to Dream... discovering some details of the human body he hadn't previously considered.

Rated: M for mentions of body parts & sexytimes

Warnings: none

Ao3 link

Hob woke to the prickling sense of movement he couldn’t see. Though his face was pressed comfortably into a cooling eucalyptus pillowcase and his belly rested against his firm modern mattress with a two-inch memory foam topper, his six-hundred-year-old soldier’s instincts  sounded the alarm. He knew, with senses that had been forged in the muck and cold and the dark of the pre-dawn battle, that someone was moving in the dark behind him.

He tensed, ready to spring into action, ready for whatever assault—

A small, sad huff sounded from somewhere close to his arse.

“Forgive me,” his stranger’s voice said. “I did not mean to wake you.”

Very close to his arse, actually. The words ghosted across the skin of his upper thighs, sending a whole new kind of tension through his body. Hob craned his neck to look behind him, squinting in the early morning shadows.

Dream’s head was nearly laying on his left arse cheek. One hand hovered over the back of Hob’s right thigh, as if trying to see how close he could get without touching skin. Except for his words, Dream appeared to have frozen. 

“Dream?”

Dream finally moved, turning his head to look up at Hob. (A few strands of hair tickled Hob’s cheek deliciously.) Dream squirmed till his face rested on the bed beside Hob’s leg. He withdrew his hand and cradled it close to his chest as if he had to physically stop himself from reaching out again. “I…”

Hob grinned as his thoughts slid back from alarm and into fuzzy morning comfort. “See something you like?” 

“The…” Dream’s gaze flicked back to Hob’s legs. “You have a pleasing… texture.”

“Do I?” Hob’s turned onto his side so he could meet Dream’s eye with less contortion. 

After the disorienting awakening, memory of the night before was streaming back clear as day. They’d fallen fast and hungrily into bed. Dream had pulled Hob to him as if he hadn’t touched another living body in an age, and Hob had obliged. Their night had been fevered and rough, and Hob could feel the soreness and marks he would cherish long as they lasted — and longer still in memory. They had devoured each other like starving men, satisfying themselves, but not savoring. 

Now, Dream’s gaze was slow and wide-eyed as it raked Hob’s body. Or, rather, some very specific parts of his body. Hob sat up and Dream’s eyes flicked up to him again, before roving back to his lap with such open curiosity and hunger as to make Hob blush. But Dream wasn’t looking at Hob’s already hard cock, but at the lengths of his legs, now folded in front of him. Dream’s hand jerked slightly, but he still held it back. He turned his face further into the bed, though his gaze roved sideways, still staring.

Hob took Dream’s hand. He brought close to his own thigh, letting it hover over the skin without forcing contact. Dream extended his fingers. 

It took a full six hundred years of learned restraint for Hob not to jerk as that long, narrow hand feathered over his skin, just barely petting the dark hairs that decorated his legs. A heavy breath fell from Hob’s lips. Dream’s gaze flicked to his with the ghost of a smile, and Hob decided not to stifle the light moan that rose in his throat as Dream’s hand lightly stroked his thigh — just the right side of ticklish. 

Hob knew he had a bit of a pelt. At various points in time, as history rode the manscaping trends up and down, he’d been mildly self conscious of it. But, last night, he hadn’t thought of it at all; he’d observed Dream’s smooth skin, but his attention had been more thoroughly captured by the slender muscles which moved on Hob with impossible strength and the burning hunger that consumed them both. 

If he’d had more time to consider their relative harriness, he might have wondered if Dream were put off by the rough appearance Hob had been hiding under his neat modern attire.

“I’m not half bear, I promise,” Hob said.

Dream pressed his fingers into Hob’s thigh and made a long, almost obscene noise of pleasure deep in his throat. He sat up, and moved both his hands to the sides of Hob’s legs, stroking up almost to his arse. 

“It is…” Dreams eyebrows contracted. “Rough… but soft.” 

He looked up at Hob as if he could explain this contradictory physical sensation. He could not, but he knew the particular pleasure of it. Hob was not the only harry man who’d ever been in his bed. He was a bit furrier than most, but he’d occasionally known the pleasure of a good pelt sliding scratchy-soft against bare skin. He shot a mischievous grin at his beautiful, enamoured stranger.

“You can ride them if you wish.” 

Dream’s breath caught and his hands dug into Hob’s thighs and his eyes flashed with a shadow of last night’s ravenous hunger. Hob drew him into his lap, and as they shifted, Dream slid his bare skin against Hob’s legs and pressed his chest close to the softness there. And as Hob wrapped his arms around him, he felt Dream’s slender chest heave with a deep sigh of contentment. 

#ferdie friday #Ferdinand Kingsley #Sandman #Dream of the Endless #Hob Gadling #Dreamling #fanfic #fanfiction #silo #silo apple tv #gratuitously misusing apple's intellectual property for Sandman purposes #my fanfic

[hashtagloveloses]

so are you back on tumblr after a while or you're new? welcome! it's a lot nicer here lately, and, shockingly enough, the website actually works a lot better too, thanks to the hard work of a bunch of very talented people. the mobile app is constantly improving, but if you're on desktop and used to use things like missing e or xkit, the latest helpful extension is XKIT REWRITTEN, which you can go download and read about at @addons that was created by @april, who worked on new xkit back in the day and now works at tumblr itself!

here's some other helpful tips to know:

PLEASE REBLOG THINGS. it's the main form of engagement here. there is no penalizing for spam interaction, most people are not looking at your blog directly, and it is the main way people find you and you find good content to follow. for original content like fanart and fanfic, it also REALLY helps people out. likes are better for like, personal posts, and for storing things for later. also, it doesn't matter if you blog is a jumble of things - it's yours, nobody cares, and that's kind of the purpose of the site

MAKE SURE YOU HAVE A PROFILE PHOTO, BANNER PHOTO, AND UNIQUE URL (that isnt like a bunch of numbers or something), or else people will think you are a bot and block you. you don't have to do anything fancy, you can use the default tumblr theme on your blog itself, but just make sure you look like a real account PLEASE

DO NOT CENSOR WORDS. much like on twitter, if you censor a word for a trigger, it will do the opposite of what you want - people's blacklist and mute functions won't work if the word isn't spelled out in the tags or the text of the post. also there isn't post suppression here.

Don't like your dashboard? Getting bored? Feel like your community is getting annoying? JUST FOLLOW MORE PEOPLE (and maybe unfollow some. a block and an unfollow are always ok). nobody cares, or can see about your follow ratio, and it'll help your dashboard feel more lively (you'll also not give as much of a shit about petty dramas). the follow limit is 5000 last i checked

keep your comments to the tags (unless it's like....really funny or adding something good? use your best judgement). the tags are helpful for subject matter, but you should also use them to talk as like side commentary!

Close your ask box to anons and don't share personal information if you don't want to. You are under no obligation to share your name, age, diagnoses, history, location, face, and you SHOULDN'T. and the ask box is great but if it gets overwhelming just close it. If you're a minor, maybe say somewhere that you're a minor, but that's it. (that goes for any social media site)

MAKE YOUR LIKES AND FOLLOWS PRIVATE. for the love of god. just protect yourself.

just like any social media site - be critical about the things people claim are true on here. screenshots, takes, facts, can be skewed and you should do extra research before believing anything just because somebody said it on tumblr dot com

DON'T GET INTO QUEER OR NEURODIVERGENT LABEL IDENTITY DISCOURSE. whether you are young or old, on tumblr or another site, things will just get confusing and weird. if you learn something here that makes you feel affirmed, great! but also please make sure your interaction with fellow queers (or other neurodivergent people) is not limited to just this site. get involved with a local or school lgbtq center if you can, get to know queer people in your life or queer spaces if you can. (and if you can't - go read about queer history somewhere other than tumblr. do research, watch movies and documentaries. look into disability organizing and history outside this hellsite). Label discourse is also how many unknowing queers and others get recruited to T*RFy shit unknowingly so....be careful out there.

Don't get guilted into things on your dashboard. You should definitely care about the things people are talking about, but you don't have to know about every ill happening in the world at once to be a good person. If you're feeling lost, or hopeless and endlessly scrolling or feel guilted by people online, pick ONE thing you can do, for people in your local community, and then just make a reasonable effort to stay informed otherwise.

create an original tag for your "original" posts, aka the posts you make that aren't reblogs, so you can look at them later

explore the QUEUE FUNCTION! you don't have to use it, nobody cares if you reblog spam, but sometimes it's fun!

Don't know who to follow? Go follow the tags of things you like (TV shows, movies, musicians, aesthetics, whatever!), and suggested posts will pop up on your feed, or you can go through the tag and follow some people who look interesting

#tumblr tips #tumblr #twitter exodus #original post

[nailtagyuri]

Just Not's Burger King Bonanza

fics done! ao3 is cyberbullying me specifically so im posting it under cut until they reopen account registrations ^_^ [EDIT THEY DID YOU CAN CHECK IT OUT HERE GO GO GO!!] thanks to @/klonoadoortophantomile for reading the initial drafts!

If you need something here tagged as a trigger warning, please contact me via ask! This fic contains depictions of real life political figures, occasional graphic violence, and YURI!!! *thunder clap*

Morning descended upon the bathrooms-turned-hotel where TPOT was once held. The sun shone over the horizon and its light crept through the dust-covered windows, into the already noisy cafeteria smack-bang at the bottom of the tall building. Even if Two's "mandatory mealtimes" had ended along with the gameshow itself, the cafeteria still flourished as a regular gathering area for social interaction, at least to those who could manage a consistent sleep schedule.

Price Tag spotted their designated black and yellow table, where they always sat along with the rest of team-turned-friend group Just Not. They walked up to it, quietly asking Cake if he could move so they could take the window seat. He obliged. He knew Taggy liked absorbing the sunlight.

They :]'d comfortably as they eyed their companions. Book, Nickel, Cake and Bomby were eating with them this morning. Naily was still in bed and Pillow was probably also asleep, what with the obvious. They were glad the two had more time to rest than when they had things to wake up for, but a part of them missed the way Naily would sleepily stumble towards their table each morning, mumbling sweet incomprehensibles as she shuffled next to them and lazily rested on their "shoulder". Oh, how she struggled to stay awake in the brief moment before she guzzled down her dangerously acidic energy drink and shot straight up, bright and alert. But enough about her. They could talk to her later.

"So," Taggy perked, "What's been up with all of you?" "Crunklybrunkly zooper dooper," Nickel groaned, "don't even get me STARTED on this horrid excuse for a foodish substance." Price Tag saw Two cover their mouth with their paws from the other side of the room. They seemed extremely hurt. Nobody audibly got Nickel started but he kept complaining anyway. "Like, what's it supposed to be, melted yoylemetal?" He poked his dish, a gray, gelatinous, rectangular blob. It jiggled against his fork.

"I'd say it's Tofu," Book proposed as she took a bite of her salad. "Black bean. It's a bit gray, though. You should try it, anyway, if you want." "They don't call it gray bean, Book." Nickel rolled his eyes, sarcastically. Cake slid in. "You feeling alright, Nickel? You're not usually this grumpy." "WRONG ONE!?" Shouted Bomby, who gripped his head with his hands in sudden fright. "No, no, I'm not an impostor, I swear!" Nickel replied. "Ugh, sorry everyone. Just I wish the stuff we ate was… fine-er. The food Two makes is kinda mid."

"THE FOOD I MAKE FOR FREE, NICKEL?!" Two boomed from next to him. Nickel fell back in his seat, startled. His foot slammed his plate, launching the substance high into the air and directly onto his face. Everyone stopped for a moment to process what had happened. "Oh golly!" Book cried. "Your tofu…" "Uhh, ground sevruga, actually," Two corrected, raising their finger up nerdishly. "Only five spoons of one of the most expensive kinds of caviar on the market, condensed into a chunky rectangular delight and nuked in a microwave for 62 seconds. Better learn to eat it up, Nickel, the black sea can't provide these delicious tastes forever!" They walked away, smugly.

There was a brief silence, aside from Nickel's slurping. Taggy raised an eyebrow, astounded that a simple 'hello' could lead to such malarkey. "The heck did any of that mean?" They exclaimed. "Any of what mean?" Naily perked her lips to imitate Taggy's ,':{ as she walked up to the table. Upon seeing her, Price Tag's confused expression quickly morphed into a joyous :3. They felt their string begin to wag in excitement. It unconsciously thumped against the empty spot next to them repeatedly as if to gesture where she should sit.

Naily saw this and laughed. "Oh wow, so many choices," she teased. "I can barely decide." She crouched down before launching herself into a frontflip, barreling over the table and stabbing clean into her designated spot. "Nailed it!" She shouted, triumphantly. The rest at the table clapped. She pulled herself out and quickly grabbed her meal the others had been saving for her, unwrapping it hungrily and biting into it without thinking to take off the pickles. It was a cheeseburger, its buns dyed such an eye-burning tone of hot pink Taggy wondered how they hadn't lost sight just looking at it. Naily called it the 'Girlburger'. "But really," Naily asked as she took another bite, "what's going on, buddy? I heard someone scream from upstairs."

They turned to her slightly and explained what had happened. "I don't even know what cabby car is!" Nickel exclaimed through his loaf. "Hmm…" Naily put a paw on her chin thoughtfully, taking in all the information. "I think…" she spoke in a hushed tone, widening her eyes. The others moved in. "it's from the viewers' world."

Everyone gasped. Nobody among them had eaten food from, let alone seen the viewers' world in person before. Only Teardrop had gone when she was sent for a challenge, and they were extremely hesitant to discuss her findings. "That's nonsense!" Book cried. "Sorry, I mean… Naily, Two's a really thoughtful host, but are you sure they'd venture out to such uncharted lands just to make breakfast for Nickel, of all people?" Naily shrugged. "Yeah." "It'd make sense," Taggy chimed in. "They still have some of their limitless power, right? If they used it to easily come here from their home planet, maybe they could easily go from here to the viewers' world."

"Yeah!" Supported Cake. "Maybe they just like to travel, and that was, like, a souvenir." Nickel sat up. "Why don't we go there?" He asked, casually. "Y'know, see more food like this. It'd be a nice change of pace from all the Dragons and Dragons and Dragons campaigns." "You mean you liked it?" Asked Book. "Oh no, it was disgusting." He replied. "I just want more of it." "Oh. Well, that's a bit of a strange mentality- wha, wait a minute! We can't go! Are you insane?! We don't know what's out there!" She grabbed Nickel out of fear. "Well if Two can make it back in one piece," grinned Naily as she stood on the table, "then so can we, the 7th greatest team this side of Goiky! And I think I know just the guy who can help us…"

"I can't help you." Said Winner, dryly. "L." Shouted Price Tag, making a >:L. Naily grew upset. "But Winner, you're the only one with limitless power who isn't mad at us!" She pleaded. "Dontcha have a heart?" Winner frowned, slightly. She was right. Winner, after defeating Marker in a rather anti-climatic boxing match, had prophetically won the Power of Two and subsequently the grand prize. Being carried episode after episode through their loyal voterbase was a kind gesture, they knew that. If everyone was that nice, surely they'd be nice enough to not instantly kill a whole team with a woodchipper, right?

The thought of woodchippers reminded them of the British Exterminator Incident of '24, and they cringed. They shook their head. "I'm sorry, guys, it's dangerous territory out there, and I don't think you'd all fare well with that kind of responsibility. There's a good chance that if I let you lot go, you won't come back." They put their arm on their hip and closed their eyes affirmitively. Most of the group groaned. "THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING!" Cried Book.

Taggy slid up to them. "C'mon, Winner, ol' buddy, ol' pal, ol' winner winner chicken dinner, you know I'd give you that kinda freedom if I were in your shoes!" "No you wouldn't." "Fair enough," they turned around and walked off. "THINK OF ALL THE FOOD!" Bomby cried. Nickel's eyes lit up. "Yeah!" He perked, as he scooched up to the defiant Winner. "Maybe they even have… purple tomatoes." Winner opened one eye. "The kind Two made for me back in the first episode?" They whispered. Nickel looked away playfully. "Perhaps."

Outside the hotel, Winner prepared to open a portal, waving their hand around slowly. "You guys owe me a real one." They said. "I'd get into a lot of trouble if Two found out I were using their powers to do this kinda stuff." Nickel got goosebumps. He and Two already weren't on good terms. "Oh, Winner, I'm sure we'll be okay!" Assured Cake. "So long as we don't, y'know… get lost. Or killed." Winner frowned. "Cake, you're a sweet guy, you don't have to be a part of this." He blushed slightly at the compliment. "No, no, really, we'll be fine! Book already told me all about how she escaped Evil Leafy, this should be no problem for her. Right, Book?" He turned to face her.

"Yeah, you could say so…" Book rubbed her arm nervously. Memories of her antics inside Evil Leafy were fuzzy after the 53rd puzzle or so, but from what she could recall she wasn't nearly as careful as Cake thought. Pits of spike and lava layered every corner of the dungeon and each obstacle grew more and more difficult for her to avoid; gruesome ends and embarrassing slip-ups were all too common and death became expected rather than feared, but at least back there she had some form of recovery. Who knew what this higher realm had to offer?

Winner shut their eyes as they began to conjure up the portal. Sparks flickered on their fingers as they moved hypnotically, a bright ball of energy starting to form on their rippling palm, flashing green and purple rapidly as it grew in size. The others looked on in amazement, gazing into the light as if they were challenging God to a staring contest. Naily, failing to break her stare, shuffled up on top of Bomby to cover up his fuse with her paws, in case a rogue flare set it on fire and blew him up. Besides the obvious, the last thing they needed was a loud explosion to draw attention to themselves, as if the electric crackling wasn't doing that already.

Winner clutched the ball with their fist. "So where are we going anyway?" Asked Nickel, choosing the worst time to ask a question. "Wh- I don't know!" Hissed Winner, hastily. "On the map, it looks kind of like a foot, if that helps!" They moved their arm back to aim. "You might wanna cover your ears…"

Two shuffled through their wardrobe, looking through their accessories before finding a large pink bow at the bottom of the pile. They brushed off the dust and slowly put it on, staring up at it to make sure it didn't fall. "How do I look?" They asked. Gaty finished her boba, slurping the contents at the bottom of the cup. "Absolutely fabulous," she complimented. "It suits you really well!" They smiled. Leave it to Gaty to give them a confidence boost. They sat down next to her, sipping their drink as they started to relax. "So what's been going on with Nickel?" Two groaned. "Ugh. It just feels like he doesn't care about all the effort I put in for everyone. He just casually criticizes my cooking like it's nothing, like I do it out of some sort of obligation! Like, I don't have to stay here, if I really didn't care I would've just up and left years ago! Why can't he see that?"

"Hmm." She thought for a moment. "Well, if I were you I'd show him the process of actually cooking the food rather than just giving it to him. It's easier for him to insult your creation because all he's seeing is the stuff on the plate, and not the hard work behind it, if that makes sense." Two swirled their tea like a wine glass. "Hmm… well, I guess it does. I'll see if it-"

The room suddenly shook violently, like a bomb had gone off and decimated one of the hotel's floors. The quaking lunged Two back in their seat, their drink splashing in their face and staining their bow. Whipped cream splutted like a cream pie in a circus act. "Oh shoot!" Gaty exclaimed. She stood up, hastily opening the closet. "You want me to grab a cloth, or some paper towels, or somethi-" She stopped when she turned back to look at them. She didn't know if their face had turned red from the sprinkles or the unbridled anger burning within them. It wouldn't take long for her to find out.

Winner stared at the portal, eyeing it to make sure everybody would fit, before hearing a flurry of muffled yet very loud curses from upstairs. "That's not good."

"RUN!" Shrieked Naily, speeding into the portal like a mouse into a hole. Taggy followed suit, then Nickel, then Bomby, then Cake. Book trailed last but stopped inches away from the portal, still extremely hesitant. "I-I can't decide! It just doesn't feel right yet!" Winner telekenetically floated some parts toward them. "Well you're gonna have to be quick if you wanna join the other five, I need to cover this up!" Book stared back at the deep, whirling maw before her… wait, did they say other five? There weren't only five other people on Just Not!

"PILLOW!" Cried Book. She'd forgotten all about her! Her heart sank. Pillow was already a hazard with her teammates around, who knows what would happen if she were left alone? She ran back up to Winner. "Winner I need you to throw me up to Pillow's room so I can take her with me!" "Huh? Book, I really don't have the time…" "You have to! Th- the lives of the contestants are at stake!" "…Book, are you going to go or-" "THROW ME!" She snapped, overpowering anything Winner had said or would say.

Book barrelled through the window into Pillow's room. Her eyes dashed around the pastel walls and contrastingly bloody splatters before spotting her, to her left. She appeared to be polishing an inanimate object of some kind. "Pillow, you have to co-" "I don't have a weapon," Pillow said, calmly. She snuck whatever she had in her sheets before turning around, giving a suspiciously contented smile. Book stared. "…Uh huh. Pillow, you have to come with me!" She grabbed her and leapt back out the window, instantly regretting not thinking things through. "Are we playing Yoylebungee again?" Asked Pillow, naively. "You forgot the rope." Book screamed her lungs out as the two fell down, down, down… Winner rushed to catch them both in their hand, throwing them in the portal just in time for them to close it off.

Two stomped around the corner. "WHAT IS GOING ON- Oh." They stopped in their tracks when they saw Winner, resting their arm against a vending machine shakily. The discomfort in their wide, crooked smile could be seen from a mile away. It created an uncomfortable vibe topped off by their worried, dilating eyes and furrowing brows. The air whistled between the two for a good few seconds, leaving silence so loud you could hear their muscles contract.

"Oh, hey Two, didn't see you there," Winner spoke hastily as they paced toward them, "sorry if I made a racket, darn vending machines stealing your money, rah! rah! rah! Really tests your temper, don't it?" They nudged the number slightly with their hand, "Hahaha, I suppose you'll be leaving now." Two waved their hands in front of them. "Wait wait wait, it stole your money?" They noted. Winner's pupils shrunk. "Oh, uhh, Two, you really don't have to-" "Well why didn't you just say something? I'd be happy to help you get it back!" Before they could get a sentence out, Two was already inspecting the vending machine for issues. "Let's see here… ew, five dollars for vanilla Dr. Fizz?" They rolled their eyes. "Stop." Winner cringed. When this was over they were gonna be owed enough favors to speedrun ten birthdays.

Book felt her eyes open slowly. Her vision was a blur, her surroundings morphing into an abstract mush of colors and simple shapes. Her head was swimming in a pool of nausea and stress. Had it been a dream? Could all this talk of portals and higher worlds be blamed on unconscious neurons firing alone? Naily stood over her, frowning worriedly. "Gee whiz, are you okay?" Book groaned as she slowly rubbed her temple with her paws. Her head throbbed against their eyes so much she felt like they were going to pop out. Pillow rushed over to her. "Perhaps she's dead. Book, are you dead? Say 'yes' if you're dead." Book sat up, mumbling to herself. "AH! ZOMBIE!" Cried Bomby, as he grabbed a rusty hammer from beside him and swung hysterically. "ZOMBIEEEEEEEE!"

"BOMBY I'M ALIVE!" Shrieked Book, widening her eyes. She slumped over, eyelids squinting as she blinked repeatedly. "I'm alive," she clarified. "I'm awake… where are we?" Cake looked around. The seven were surrounded by large, worn-down buildings, covered with graffiti and offensive etchings. An opening in front of them gave way to what looked like a street; that and the blisteringly bright sun above them were the only sources of light in what was otherwise a dark open tunnel. He certainly didn't want to be here at night. "Looks like…" "It's an alleyway." Pillow interrupted. "I didn't know we were going to the real world." Book stood up. "No, the real world is back- whatever. We've seen it. Can we go home now?!" "What? No way!" Nickel perked. "We only just got here, let's have a look around!"

NO!" She shouted. "Err, uhh, I mean, what about all the fun things we can do here in the alleyway? Like calculating the total worth of all of its many things!" "Three dollars," answered Price Tag, who represented the value on their face. "Hahahaha, that helps!" Book lied, glaring at them. "or, we could play Interdimensional Red Rover! I'll start." She made a mad dash for the portal, speeding forward and crashing into the back of a machine.

Book felt her eyes open slowly. Her vision was a blur, her surroundings morphing into an abstract mush of colors and simple shapes.

Pillow was quick to interrupt her reverie, grabbing her and flipping her back into a standing position. "That's better," she hummed. Book was dazed but at least she was still conscious. "Urgh… Wait, what am I still doing here!?" She cried as her gaze met the portal. She fixated particularly on the giant contraption blocking her path. "Wh- what's THAT doing here?! Why is this happening!?"

"Your companions probably punished you for not following the rules," Pillow assumed. "They didn't even call you on over." "They didn't even call her on over," Naily whispered to Taggy. She walked up to the portal and threw a lone pebble at it. It banged off the back of the machine and flew threw a window. "Yup, that's blocking us off alright." "So we're trapped?!" Cake yelped, fearfully. Price Tag attempted to comfort him. "Aww, don't say that, Cake! I'd say it's more like very heavy encouragement to stay." "That's all we really can do, isn't it…" Cake conceded.

The group was silent for a moment. "Well…" Naily lingered as she raised a paw. "The only missed shot you can shoot is an unshooted shot, ain't it?" She started walking off, Price Tag following close behind. The others shrugged, following in her footsteps. Book was so distracted trying to interpret Naily's phrase that by the time she could muster up a response, she and the rest of the group had already left.

Book paced up to them, "Wait, you're all just leaving?" She cried. "You can't! Shouldn't you try and break the wall down, or something? We're gonna get lost!" "Don't worry, we'll go back," Price Tag assured. "We're just exploring first!" "No. Taggy, no! This isn't as simple as 'exploring', we have no idea what this place looks like, or where everything is, or how big everything is, if we lose sight of this alleyway we won't find our way back and we'll lose EVERYTHING! Cake, you just got back with Loser after years of not seeing each other and now you're willing to abandon him?!" The color began to drain from his face. Guilt began to wash over him. "Well…"

Naily stepped forward to interject. "Book, you couldn't even break it down with your full body weight. Would you rather invest all your time in a lost cause or use what time you have in this new world to take a risk? Look," she flipped Book open to tear off a blank page, "You can scribble important information down on this and when we find something that can break down the structure, we'll go back! It solves itself!" Book sighed as she rubbed her temple. If she was so sure... "I really hope you know what you're doing. Do you have a pen?"

Just Not walked casually through the street, Book sketching important details and sign names on her pages in case they got lost. Cake was quick to notice how uncanny all of this world's inhabitants looked: their faces had strange lumps beneath their mouths and eyes, and odd, patterned shapes on both sides of their heads. He assumed these were arms. Almost all of them towered over the group, some taller than Bomby and Book combined. Their eyes were rich with detail and color, almost all of them staring back at Cake with an atmosphere of judgement and suspicion.

He felt his cheeks turn pink. Did they hate him? Did he do something wrong? He'd clearly done something wrong. Why else would they keep looking at him?! "Looks like these guys haven't seen an object before," Naily hummed, derailing his train of thought. "Everyone looks so… same-ey." Nickel whispered. "How do they tell each other apart?" Cake sighed. At least his friends were somewhat on the same page, even if they didn't completely share his mindset.

"This place doesn't look like it has what we're looking for," observed Pillow. "Well maybe we just need to dive deeper!" Taggy eyed the crowd and picked whoever they thought was nicest. They scuttered up to them, making a ^.^ and striking a kind pose. "'Scuse me, sir! Me and my buddies were just looking for some caviar, and you look like the kinda guy who'd know their stuff about that."

"I don't," they replied, briskly. "Ah, well, we've all got room to learn. But could ya redirect us to someone who knows where we can find any? My gray weezerino over here could really go for some sevruga." They dragged Nickel towards them.

"Sevruga?" The man pondered. "Sounds Russian. You'll probably need a plane ticket, or something."

Nickel broke free from Taggy's grasp. "Does it cost money?" He said, playing along with Taggy's cool guy persona. "Because I happen to be pretty experienced in the field of things worth five cents or under, if you catch my drift."

The man was silent for a moment. "If you can't afford it, you can also drive," they muttered. "Through the sea. You'd have to hold your breath for a while, though."

Book cringed at the reminder. "Aaaaand that's where we'll end things for now! Thanks anyway!" She nudged Nickel, cueing everyone to speedwalk away.

The man was left with his thoughts. His inner monologue began to scold him. "Damn it, Barack, you should've gone with them. They seemed nice, even if they were cosplaying as random objects." He sighed as he pulled out a special red, white and blue senzu bean. You'd think a former president, let alone a Saiyan, would be better at talking to people, but here he was. Alone, and about as awkward as a worm in a spider club. "What an Obummer," he mumbled as he popped it in his mouth, letting the chemicals and sudden nutrition wash the regret and loneliness away.

Just Not walked for what seemed like ages, the ever-expanding list of turns, streets and stops growing harder and harder for Book to remember. Whatever part of the journey they were up to now, it certainly didn't look like the beginning. Most of the buildings now were more than two hotels high, a far cry from the quaint forts just a couple blocks back.

Book wondered if her team were actually serious about walking all the way out to the ocean just so they could go to this "Russia" place. Finally having enough, she decided to speak up. "Hey, guys, uhh… are we going to do anything other than walking while we're here?"

Pillow looked around, before catching something in the glimpse of her eye. "We can drive!" She chirped, pointing off to the distance. The others looked: a large, black vehicle stood before them. It was chunky, sleek, and surely big enough to fit everyone. It led a trail of multiple similar cars, all empty and parked in front of a beautiful hotel, one of the tallest in the street.

Book groaned. She had to start wording things better.

Price Tag inspected the vehicle. "Hmmm… doesn't look very seaworthy." "Plus, if we're going to steal it," Naily lowered her voice to a whisper, "we'd have to take out the guards first."

She pointed to two flags, waving proudly on the front end of the van. Nobody recognized either of them. Naily winked at Bomby, who raised a hand, gesturing everyone to stand back. The others were still, as he breathed in. He leapt forth, landing quietly in front of the trunk, before wiggling his fingers and slicing them through both flagpoles at once. The flags slid clean off, landing in his palms.

"THAT SHOULD BE BOTH OF THEM," He shrilled.

The others were impressed. Naily cheered eccentrically, whistling and wooing loudly like she'd just seen pigs fly. "Wasn't that the coolest thing you've ever seen!?" She yelled. "Alright, now let's get in the car!"

Everyone obliged, Naily hastily shuffling into the driver's seat and grabbing onto the wheel. "Oh, uhh, Naily, I think it would be better if I drive this time." Book cautioned, eyeing the pawless pedals. "Why's that?" Naily responded, smiling at her mindlessly. "Oh, it's just, y'know, I have…" She stopped herself before she could say "arms". She remembered a late night bar conversation she had with a very drunk Snowball, who was unfortunate enough to bring up that subject around her.

"It was terrifying," he moped as he chugged down another shot glass. "All I wanted was to join her team. I was nice. I did nothing wrong. I told them they seemed like nice people, even if they were weak and armless." His eyes widened with sorrow as they stared off into space. The memories hit him like a shovel, jabbing into the nerves of his emotions and digging tears out of his cold, almost dead eyes. "And then, out of nowhere…" He whined, his voice cracking in pitch. He turned to Book suddenly and grabbed her shoulders. "She owned me!" He cried, shaking her hysterically. Book could see the fear and vulnerability in his pupils as they dilated and shook. "She owned me! SHE OWNED ME! SHE OWNED ME, BOOK! I WAS OWNED! SHE OWNED ME!"

She didn't quite know what "owned" meant in this case, no matter how many times it was repeated. But if famous tough-guy Snowball was afraid to get on Naily's bad side, chances were Book should very much avoid that path as well.

"…a very strong drivers' spirit!" She finished. "Mine's stronger," Naily grinned. "C'mon, Price Tag, you take the pedals!" "On it!" They saluted, sitting comfortably beneath her. Book sighed as she moved to the back seat, while Bomby took passenger's. If anything went wrong she wouldn't be to blame.

After a bit of fumbling with the ignition and figuring out how four people would fit in two seats, the car started and the group were off. Nickel could barely make out someone glaring at them from inside the building, but he didn't care. This was a whole new experience for him! He shuffled his feet, making sure that they didn't damage Cake's frosting as he sat on top of him.

Book, meanwhile, sat directly in front of Pillow, whose arms wrapped around her in a spooning position. Pillow, ironically, was very passionate about keeping herself safe. She was the only one in the car, aside from Cake, who had strapped themselves in, and had even encouraged Book to share the seatbelt with her. She denied, nonetheless. She didn't need it on such a casual drive, and would hate to make either of them uncomfortable with a tight squeeze.

Naily stared at all the viewers, and they stared back. They'd been doing that a lot, hadn't they? Was it the van this time? She couldn't understand why it'd be such a spectacle to them, what with its all black coloring and rather uninteresting interior. Perhaps these viewers were just very easy to excite. Their brains would probably implode if they saw something with as much visual noise as the Freesmart Supervan, she thought.

Her brows quickly furrowed into a frown when she saw a series of billboards looming over the rest of the town. They all had the same image plastered over them: a creature, presumably a viewer, smiling smugly at the camera, in a confident, commanding pose. Underneath them, a series of stripes and a string of bolded, instructional text:

"Vote Ron DeSantis for presidential reelection, November 2028. A stronger government, a stronger America."

Naily scoffed. She hadn't even made it past her own team's first elimination, and here this guy was, plastering their mug everywhere trying to get people to vote for them twice? As if one victory wasn't enough? Something about it made her blood boil. It wasn't like their silly campaign would even work, anyway, none of the billboards even had letters or square brackets.

She saw some viewers in blue uniforms ripping a much smaller poster off a building: it had similar messaging, but the colors and figure looked different. Most likely it was endorsing someone else, encouraging viewers to vote for an opponent or a teammate. The blue uniformed viewers tore it off, ripping it to bits, before throwing what was left on the ground.

Whoever these contestants were the prize they were battling for must've been really elusive if it meant they were willing to hire their own personal goons. What prize could somehow be more enticing than limitless power? Why were these people so desperate to win it? Just a viewer thing, she guessed. As if object traditions were any less weird.

"So what do you all wanna do first?" Nickel inquired. "Ooh, let's see if they have a beauty salon!" Taggy smirked. "I'd personally LOVE to get my nails done." "That's funny," said Naily. "Thank you. But really, wasn't the plan to get something to eat?" "Didn't you hear the guy before?" Cake butted in. "The caviar we're looking for is probably 2763 canals away." "That doesn't mean we can't try something else!" Nickel replied. "Yeah! Let's see if they have any cool restaurants 'round here." As if on cue, Pillow looked out the window, immediately noticing a sign that stood out from the others. "How does Burger King sound?"

The rest of her team turned their attention to the restaurant. The bright and colorful branding of the logo enticed all of them. The word "burger" implied food, meat. A meal they could all share; the word "king" implied either medieval decadence or supremacy, as if the cooks here were the metaphorical kings of all burgers, delivering quality unmatched by any other chain.

"Don't mind if I do," Naily muttered under her breath as she turned the car around and moved into the Drive Thru. She knew how this kind of thing worked from her team's many late night visits to Gelatin's Steakhouse, but the experience of being in the driver's seat for once was almost surreal in a way. "So what do you all want?" She asked, flinching at the unnatural feeling of those words spilling out of her own mouth.

One by one, everyone listed off what they wanted. Being the only photosynthetic creature among them, Price Tag jokingly asked for a torch.

Naily rolled down the window and forwarded the message to the speaker, whose gritty and bitcrushed voice directed them to the next window. She did so, reaching what appeared to be the restaurant's kitchen and playing Where's Woody with her order as she stared through the window.

"Oh, there's other cooks. Do you want me to take care of them?" Asked Pillow, innocently. "No, it's fine." Naily replied, not knowing exactly what that meant. She tapped the wheel mindlessly as boredom began to set in. The group was left in awkward silence for a brief moment. "Let's listen to some music!" Pillow chimed in, again. She shoved Book off her and reached into the front seat, clicking the radio on. The scratchy, radical voice echoed through the car's walls. "And next up on our totally tubular 2000s throwback, 'This is Such a Pity' by Weezer!"

Pillow appeared to recognize the name, and showing more emotion in that moment than throughout the rest of the trip, she frowned slightly and clicked the radio back off. "Silence also has its perks." As awkwardness descended upon the vehicle, each member of Just Not silently waited for another to speak up, spark a conversation and break the tension.

"How would we kiss?" Price Tag inquired.

Naily raised her eyebrows in surprise. "What? M…me?" "Yeah," They looked up at her and smiled casually. "How would we kiss?" "Uhhh…" She was confused more than anything. Hadn't she already kissed them plenty of times before? "You mean…" She moved to give Price Tag a casual yet loving smooch on their forehead. They chuckled as their face began to warm slightly. They didn't expect her to demonstrate, but weren't complaining. "Oh, nah, heheheh, I mean more…" Their voice grew quiet. "more deeper than that, if that makes sense."

"Oh." Naily's face lit up. "OH, you mean, like, you wanna make out? Like…" She looked out the window, then back to them. "…like now?" They silently nodded, making a bashful <:].

She frowned, sympathetically. "Oh, Taggy, sweetheart, I'm sorry, but you don't exactly have a… 'mouth' mouth, do you? There's not much for me to work with…" They matched their expression, a disappointed :(. She was correct. Price Tag did technically have a mouth but it lacked any depth and couldn't be used for anything other than talking and making faces. The closest thing they could get to tasting anything was their antennae, which they used to drink water and absorb light energy for nutrition. Using that would be unbelievably awkward, though…

"If there isn't a way," they technically lied, "can we at least pretend?" Naily smiled. That she could do. Turning them down at this point would just be cruel. "Oh, alright," she grinned, playfully rolling her eyes. "C'mere." She pulled Price Tag towards her for a kiss. They let out an adorable EEK! as their "lips" met Naily's.

Within seconds the LARP kissing session was in full swing, much to the chagrin of Nickel who looked on in partial disgust. Despite being on their team, he hadn't seen the two interact much, especially not with such blatant intimacy. "Ugh, somebody needs to get a room. Are they always like this?" He hissed to Bomby.

"YEP," he beamed. He could confirm what with how close the three had grown since Naily's return from years of separation. The long-distance relationship they were forced to adapt to after TPOT 5 didn't exactly scratch their mutual itch to be in each others arms. The current sight brought back a particularly pleasant memory from more recent times:

When the show ended and they finally had a chance to reunite, the three had all built up such a desire to give affection to one another that the first thing they did as soon as they made physical contact was hug for three straight days. Sometimes, Bomby would do some footwork, carrying them into their room and grabbing drinks or food, all while not breaking the hug of course. But for the most part, those blissful 75 hours were spent doing nothing but chatting, snuggling, relaxing, and watching random shows on TV. Oh, the way they all cackled watching the Exitors' real time fandubs and hilariously bad reruns of the Object Bang Theory…

Since that faithful day, one would rarely be seen without the two others. The closest they got to splitting was when they chose to sit at different tables, over an argument regarding how to spell fortnite, a period of two weeks, which was resolved later that morning. But aside from that, they were strung together like a sowed blanket. Or, rather, welded together like three small Lego pieces, pressed together with ease and virtually impossible to be separated from that point onward.

Naily slowly moved backwards as she stared into her lovers eyes. "You're so beautiful," she hummed. Price Tag chuckled sheepishly as their blush deepened, before gazing off to their left. "Naily…" "Yes, honey?" She pulled them closer. "She's here…" "Yeah, I'm here…" She wrapped her paws around them in a hug. "I'm so sorry I ever left you…" "No, I mean…" They frowned. "At the window. Our order's here." Naily looked to see someone with bags of food. "SHOOT!" She cried as she dropped Price Tag and scrambled to look natural. "We'll, uhh, be taking our food now, thanks!" She smirked, nervously.

The worker was uninterested. "Uh-huh," She muttered tiredly as she handed the bags of food over to her customer, who grabbed on to them with what she thought were really large gloves. She didn't know what it was with these kids and their weird ass fashion trends but at this point she was so exhausted that she couldn't bother to care. Working 16 straight hours without a wink of rest had taken its toll and all she wanted was to get this last bunch of customers over with so she could end her shift. "Will that be cash or credit?" She sighed.

Naily blinked. "What?" "Cash or credit?" The cashier repeated. "How are you going to pay for your order?" Nickel stood up and slid over to the front. "Oh, I think I see what this guy's deal is. Check this out!" He flopped face-first onto the counter. The cashier stared down at him, then up at Naily, who stared back with an inattentive grin. "…Is that a nickel?" The unamused cashier mumbled. "The one and only!" She confirmed. "Okay. This is five cents," she said, blankly. "Your order is $104.86." "Uhhh, actually it's worth much more than meets the eye!" Book interjected, trying to stop a conflict before it could begin. She scrambled to make something up, "It's a one of a kind, uhhh… Nicko…min…ator, the last of its species!"

"What? No I'm not!" "Oh yeah, you are!" Price Tag >:]'d, sticking to the bit. "He's only one of the highest priced thingamajigs on the market!" They wrapped their string around him and fibbed the highest value they could count to. "check it, 8 whole bucks!"

Book facepalmed. Cake grew worried. "Wait, are we really gonna just leave him here?" "It's fine," said Pillow. "There's other ones." The cashier raised an eyebrow. "So he's not one of a kind? W-Whatever, we can't accept this. If you can't afford to pay for your order I'm afraid you'll have to return it." "Well," sighed Nickel as he stood up, "I know when I'm beat."

"Now just hold on, Nickel…" Naily flicked him back over on his back. "I think I can make this work. Here, I'll write you a check." She opened the glove compartment and grabbed a paper slip. She scribbled something down and slapped it on the counter, sliding it over to the cashier, who was too tired to realize she couldn't accept that as payment either.

She picked up the slip and was met with a crudely written note, "Distraction". "DRIVE!" Shouted Naily. By the time the cashier had realized what was going on, her group of dine-and-dashers had already sped off, with the food, but without the odd nickel cosplayer that still lay on her desk. "They're gone, aren't they?" He asked. Wendy sighed. Trillions of entities in the universe and none of them wanted to give her a single fucking break. She pressed a button at the top of the room, "Code 2762 at 1:15," before resting her chin on the bar and waiting to be allowed to leave. "You got anything you wanna kill time with?" She slurred to the coin costumed fellow. "Uhhh…" He thought of an interesting conversation topic. "I cranked a machine once."

"What are you doing?!" Cried Cake as he watched the Burger King fade away from his vision. "He's still in there! NICKEL'S STILL IN THE RESTAURANT!" "Oh yeah… Well, the only option to get him back I can think of is to go through the Drive Thru again, and that's gonna need a lotta quick maneuvering now that we've burned bridges." Naily searched through the bags for some fries. "How about we eat first? Can't have good reflexes on an empty stomach!" Price Tag looked up at her. "I thought you already ate?" "But these are better for the brain," replied Naily as she stuffed a pawful of fries in her mouth. "Potatoes and all. Not as high in mercury." "Ah, that's fair."

Naily handed a fry over to Book, who handed it over to Cake. "You want this one, Cake?" "I'll eat when we get home," he muttered, quietly, as Book took the fry back and ate it. He was too pertubed to dwell on food. How could anybody not be pertubed knowing one of their friends was accidentally left behind? How was nobody freaking out?! Book could see he was fearful, almost to the point of tears. "Cake? Are you feeling alright?"

"We left him behind…" He weeped. "We abandoned him! We're never gonna see him again!" Book felt guilt wash over her. "Oh, don't say that! You know he's just a few blocks away." She rubbed his back. "Look, I know our teammates are a bit… erratic, at times, but they still care deeply about their friends, don't they? They'd never do something that out of line if they weren't sure it'd end up alright in the end." He sniffed. "But what abo-"

"Shh," Pillow hushed as she slid into the front seat, pointing onto the window. "Look over there," she exclaimed, cueing everyone to look in her direction. It was the same hotel where Naily had found the car. Pillow was particularly fixating on a suited man standing outside, who appeared particularly livid for whatever reason. He was kicking and screaming, jumping up and down in unabashed fury. "Isn't that the guy from the poster?" Taggy pointed out.

"Oh yeah," Naily replied. "Ron whacha call it. Gosh, his face's practically turning red. Pillow, try reading his lips!"

Pillow rolled down the window and peeked her head out, curling her hands around her eyes to mimic binoculars. She spoke in a monotone voice. "-idiots, I don't care who you are, I am the President. If you don't get it back in five seconds, you can tell your kids they won't be having a christmas… look, there they are, that's my car, those assholes stole my car, shoot them, shoot them."

"PILLOW!" Cried Book, who pulled her down just in time to miss the flurry of bullets coursing through the windows. Everyone followed suit as gunshots flurried through the car; the bullet-proof glass was strong, but the government's exclusive top-model NERF guns were stronger. When the noise fell silent, Naily perked back up. "Whew, that was close. You guys all good?" "Not mentally," Book whimpered. "We have one casualty…" Cake spoke, crestfallen as he held up a soda cup. Liquid bled out of the gaping bullethole in its middle, pouring through the front and back ends. Taggy giggled. "Heh. Well, if an object got shot today, I'm sure glad it wasn't one with a face. Huh, Naily?" They looked up at her, frowning when she didn't humor their playful quip.

"Naily? Are you OK, buddy?" Her eyes were wide, blank, empty, yet filled with despair. Invisible tears fell down her face, sliding down to the corners of her mouth, a small frown with lips that covered her clenched, grinding teeth, as if to give but a glimpse at her interior rage. Price Tag's face formed semicolons. They'd never seen her like this. "Slow down." Naily hissed at their partner, who understood quickly. They eased pressure on the pedal as Naily slowly turned around, the vehicle creeping onto the sidewalk.

"Wait for my signal…" She carefully waited for non-target pedestrians to clear the runway. Book began to connect the dots. Her heart sank. "Naily, it's just a cup, whatever you're gonna do, don't do it!"

"Brake…" Bomby fastened his seatbelt. Those gunmen had really done it now; there was no stopping Naily at this point. Whatever was about to happen, was about to happen. "RAM IT!"

The car shot forward. Onlookers screamed and leapt out of the way as the vehicle sped towards the clique of suits. The self-proclaimed President's jaw dropped in horror as the cadillac careened towards his body. His ear-splitting scream was cut off with a loud, painful crunch, his body crashing into the windshield, his nose breaking and his arm bones forced to twist into unnatural angles. His face flattened from the sheer force, like something one would see out of a Tom & Jerry cartoon. It quickly slipped downwards leaving only a trail of blood, which was quickly cleaned off with the wipers. The body fell under the tires as they crushed out what little life remained in the corpse.

"Aw yeah!" Cheered Taggy as they gave Naily a high-five. Book's jaw was agape. "That was… you just…" "Now that Big Red's been taken care of, let's get Nickel back!" She flicked the radio back on instinctively, and like something out of a cheesy movie, a song began on cue. "Look at this photograph," the speakers blared. Pillow barely bat an eye. She clearly didn't mind this song as much.

Nickel flailed his legs around. "And it's just, she does nothing, while I toil and toil and toil for some stupid recovery center that doesn't even work after a while!" Wendy was attentive to the story the stranged coin costumed fellow was telling. She didn't think it was real, at all, but anything to keep her awake while she waited for management to let her leave.

He stood up and started gesturing wildly with his feet, "Flumple dumple smordledorf, it was degrading! Like, I was reduced to a cranking slave, crank crank crack 'till the sky goes black." He sat back down with a huff. "Why didn't you just, like… stop?" Wendy asked. "What?" "Like, just stop cranking. If you feel, like… degraded, or whatever it was, why keep doing something you hate, y'know?"

And let his friends die? He quickly grew defensive. "Oh yeah, well…" He stuttered, struggling to come up with a comeback. "Why don't you… stop… your thing?!" She fell silent. Nickel's response was cheap, and poorly delivered, but something about it resonated with her in a way she couldn't describe. Could she really do that? Just stop doing her job for a while because it strained her mental health to the point of splinters? Then again, money was tight… She furrowed her eyebrows. "You do your whatever, I do mine," she dismissed vaguely.

A car swept by, as the dine and dashing group from before grabbed Nickel by the foot and pulled him back into the car. Taking back a tip? Now that was low… not that he was, actually, a coin of course. Was he? Whatever, he was gone anyway, but his idea remained…

Cake grabbed onto Nickel and hugged him tightly, as he sobbed hysterically. "NICKEL I'M SO SORRY I MISSED YOU SO MUCH I WAS SO WORRIED I'D NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN," He spouted, as he peppered him with platonic kisses. Nickel shut his eyes, shielding them from the brown smooch marks appearing all across his body. He was glad Cake loved him enough to fear for his safety, he just wished he wasn't caught so off guard. "Thanks, but I was kinda in the middle of something…"

"Well that doesn't matter, now," Naily said as she swung the car back onto the road, then into the nearest parking lot. "You must be starving after all that waiting! Here…" She took the items that weren't fries out of the bag. Those were for later. She threw a cheeseburger at Nickel, some nuggets at Cake, a 'whopper' at Bomby, an ice cream at Pillow, a salad at Book, and took the kids meal for herself. The plastic toy inside, presumably inedible to her, was given to Taggy; an astronaut of some kind, with Toy Story 7 branding, they were merely estatic that it eminated light of any kind for them to, quote unquote, "eat".

Nickel stared into the burger, his focus blotting out all other senses. This was it. The purpose of the entire trip, to get at least a taste of viewers' world food. With great carefulness, he moved the food toward his mouth and bit into it, his teeth digging into the papery outer layer, the soft, warm bread, and the juicy, succulent meat. He thinks he forgot a step, but it doesn't matter. He's eating now, and he can finally taste the higher realm.

But something about it feels off, artificial. Less personal than Two's cooking. It tasted better, obviously, but what it had in flavour it lacked in heart. There is no love, no passion to be tasted, rather, homogenized corporate fluff.

His train of thought was derailed by a series of blasting sirens, fading in from in front of him. "W…what's that?" Pillow looked to the front window for the source of the noise. There, crawling over the horizon, were a flock of cars speeding their way. Atop their rooves were sirens, flashing red and blue. "Oh, I know these guys! They're feds." She turned to Naily, smiling. "They're probably angry at us because we killed their leader. We should drive. Now." She got the memo, forwarding the message to Taggy, who floored the pedal and swerved the car onto the road. The chase was on.

The car bulleted down the path, dashing away from the persuing police. Onlookers gasped as sirens whined throughout the street, dispatch after dispatch chasing the rogue presidential cadillac. Many scrambled for their phones to take pictures of the incident, eager to document perhaps one of the strangest events in U.S. political history.

One enemy car managed to catch up with Just Not, preparing to throw them off course. Ram! Nickel flew off Cake, hitting the back of the driver's seat before collapsing onto the floor. "Oh dear!" Book cried as she stood to pick him up. Ram! The car surged forward. Book was thrown out of her seat, pages aflutter. Pillow, who was restrained by her seatbelt, took notice. "You seem to be having trouble with one of the drivers," She observed. "Do you want me to take care of them?" "Y-yeah, sure, do what you can!" Book groaned as she rubbed her temple. Ram! The car swerved from left to right. Naily struggled to keep balance, frantically trying to stop the car from spinning. Taggy twisted into awkward positions in a desperate attempt to hold onto the pedal. Bomby gripped onto the grab handle, failing to curb his panic. "WE'RE GONNA DIE!" He screamed. Ram! Like a kick in an already bruised chest, the car was shoved again. "HURRY!" Cried Bomby. When Book finally managed to regain composure she could make out Pillow reaching for the back of her covers, pulling out a large, black shape. Her eyes widened. "I-is that a…" Ram! Book shrieked as she fell back onto the floor. Pillow rolled down the window, unfazed.

"I lied, earlier." She said, as she unbuckled, and took aim. "I have a gun."

Right as the car was about to ram again, Pillow fired a spray of bullets, which burst through the enemy's windshield and caused the car to swerve away in surprise. It turned sharply to the left, spinning directly into a building, which collapsed on top of it in a fiery explosion. "BURN IN HELL, YOU CAPITALIST PIG DOGS!" Cried Pillow.

Naily saw the car fade away, and sighed in relief. The feeling vanished as she saw a sharp curve in the road. "We're about to turn!" She shouted. Pillow noted, grabbing onto the grab handle and using the velocity from the vehicle's swing to fling herself onto the back trunk. She used one hand to cling onto the window, and the other to hold onto the gun. Bullets fired hysterically at the cops as they swerved, desperately trying to dodge the storm of gunfire while keeping chase with the criminals.

"How are we going to get home?!" Cake panicked as he pulled Nickel in for a protective hug. "I don't know!" Naily snapped. "The alleyway could be anywhere!" Book facepalmed. Her cover was starting to redden from the amount of times she had slapped it these past few hours. Taggy made a <:[. "Book, weren't you keeping directions?!" "Me?!" Book replied. "Oh, yeah, me, uhh…" She scrambled across the floor. That page couldn't have gone too far, could it?

After a few seconds of searching and a quick buildup of fear, she finally found the page. She sighed as she sat back in her seat and buckled up, scanning the pages for any valuable information. In spite of how rushed it was, it felt surprisingly comprehensible. "Okay, do you know where Barnes Street is?" "No!" Naily responded, before seeing a street sign. "Yes!" "Okay, turn right there…"

Pillow felt herself slide sharply to her left, flipping over onto her front as she struggled to maintain her grip on the rim. She found herself awkwardly shifting onto her right as she tried to get a good look at the pack of feds, still following her with intent to kill. If they didn't recognise her before, they certainly recognised her now.

She was running low on ammo, and if she wanted to permanently get rid of the threat, she'd have to change tactics. She looked up. A helicopter flew above them at an almost safe distance. She assumed it belonged to a news station, of some sort. Stupid spies, probably broadcasting this live for the whole world to see, like it was any of their business. At least in BFDI there was a chance to edit some of the more personal things out. She took aim.

She unexpectedly swerved back to her right, this time almost falling off the car. Her feet slid off the trunk, and for the moment, she thought she would end up skidding onto the road, meeting an untimely end as her cover was ripped to shreds. Yet, thankfully, a swift swerve sent her back to the uncomfortable, yet safer position she was in before, and she, once again, took aim.

"OK, now you're gonna wanna stick to this road for a couple more metres!" Book instructed. Naily obliged, using this time to glare at the car coming up to her right. It slowly gained on her, and she anticipated another ramming. But instead, the driver rolled down the window and poked their head out to talk to her.

"DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA," they shouted, over the unending howls of the wind. "HOW FAST YOU'RE GOING?!" Naily rolled down her window. "NO," she remarked, "I CAN'T READ." "I'M GOING TO NEED TO SEE YOUR LICENSE AND REGISTRATION!" She rolled her eyes, pulling out an I.D. from who knows where and sticking her paw out to give it to them. They grabbed it and read its label, a single, crudely written word: "Distraction". Looking up from the note, they were barely given enough time to react to the car in front of them, and with a painful crash, they demolished the entire front of their car, and practically their entire body. "Naily 2, Viewers 0!" Cheered Taggy.

After skillful shooting at the helicopter's rotors, Pillow watched the fireworks. The machine barreled down uncontrollably, spiralling into the police herd and colliding with a loud, dramatic explosion, which sent debris flying even in her close vicinity. The bright orange light soon faded, leaving only piles of rust and rubble. Pillow sighed in relief, and swerved back into the car. That spectacle was worth the world. "Uhh, guys, I think we missed," Cake muttered as he pointed to the bright neon "alleyway" sign that they had just sped past. That must've been where we came from, Book thought as she facepalmed.

To make matters worse, Bomby could see another herd of cars speeding towards them. "TURN! TURN!" He shouted. Naily swerved around, this time heading in the opposite direction. Her stomach dropped when she saw a pile of cars blocking her path. "Well, we're done for." said Nickel. "Taggy, brake!" Naily commanded. Much to her surprise, they didn't. "Price Tag, brake!" "No, we can't!" They snapped. "You can make it through this, you ran over that guy, you can run through a couple cars!"

Their words were kind, if not poorly timed considering the circumstances. Nethertheless, she trusted them enough to play along. She angled herself towards the alleyway and shut her eyes, hoping with all her might that they were correct and she would push through the piles of cars. It was either that, or nothing.

By now, a crowd of almost every object in the hotel had gathered around the vending machine. Green tape was set up near the area, so nobody but those willing to try and fix it could cross. Surprisingly, after so many hours, nobody could seem to understand what was wrong with the vending machine, or how they could get Winner's "money" back. Not even Golf Ball could fix the issue.

Snowball, one of the only objects who hadn't previously showed up, stepped proudly in to the fray. He strutted down the cleared line, "You're all stumped by a vending machine? Pathetic! I can fix something like that in seconds," He boomed, shoving Golf Ball out of the way, "because I have arms!"

"No, stop, don't." Said Winner, sarcastically. He breathed in, then out, as he stretched his arms towards the vending machine. "Open sesame!"

Nothing happened. Everyone was silent for a brief few seconds. Snowball took another deep breath. "Open sesa-"

The car burst through the machine, flattening Snowball in the process. It flipped over repeatedly as the other objects rushed to get out of the way, Winner particularly growing afraid as their once dimmed fears were quickly rekindled. Finally, it settled, resting on its back.

One by one, Just Not climbed out of the vehicle. Naily, realizing that she wasn't dead, leapt around in celebration and cheered. Seeing Taggy, she leapt into their legs estatically, giving them multiple swift kisses and thanks. Their string began to wag again as the affection extinguished their uneasiness. They made a ^w^, their voice cracking as they cheered giddily that they were both okay, and they didn't think twice before reciprocating her hug as they wrapped their legs around hers tightly. Soon afterwards they were joined by Bomby, who pulled both of them in for a group hug. "OHMAGOSH! NAILY! TAGGY!" He cried, as the group barrel-rolled forward in excitement.

Soon after they were joined by Cake, who was glad to see his friends were alright, then Nickel, then Book, then Pillow…

"Just Not?!" Cried Two, as they all stopped to look at them. "Where have you been? We've been trying to fix this ve-" They froze when they turned around to see a giant, green portal. They were left in a paralyzing state of shock, their jaw agape as they stared at the wormhole.

"The real world," they slowly turned to the team. "You went to the real world."

Price Tag sighed, as they stepped forward. "I guess there's no denying it any longer." They shut their eyes into a U_U. "It was Winner. Winner forced us to go." They recoiled. "T-Taggy!" "Winner! You mean you were in on this?!" They began to sweat. "Well, I mean-" "Yeah, totally! We were just trying to keep to ourselves, but they threatened to terminate our cable subscription, it was horrible!" Naily put a paw on her forehead melodramatically, playing along with the bit. "Book, you can back us up, right?"

But Book was already running off. She held up a finger, likely to indicate that they had taken things 'one' step too far, before disappearing into the distance. The joke was on her, though, Naily thought. She was holding up the wrong one.

Either way she couldn't keep up the act. "…It's just a prank?" She shrugged.

"I DON'T CARE IF IT WAS A BIRTHDAY GIFT OR ANOTHER TRIAL FROM GOD!" Two yelled, "I AM BEYOND ANGRY AT ALL OF YOU! Winner, I gave you clear instructions to not randomly create portals to the real world without my permission."

"I'm sorry!" They sighed. "N-Nickel said there were purple tomatoes, and I was hungry!"

"You eat those literally every other day! Nickel! I tell you to be more grateful for what you have, so you run off into another dimension?!" "W-well, yeah, but the food they have there doesn't really taste- have the same heart that yours does."

"…YOU ATE THEIR FOOD?!" They cried, taking personal offense. "Look," said Naily, "I'm really sorry if we did something wrong by running off. We just wanted to find more of the exotic caviar you were talking about!"

They frumped. "The ca- Is that what this is about?" Nickel's eyes darted around. "Well, yeah, where else would you get it from?"

"Nickel." Two said, bluntly. "Nickel, look at me. We have a canal, with fish in it. That lay eggs. Caviar is fish eggs."

"Oh." He tapped his foot, awkwardly. "Well that's why we didn't really… find any, anyway. We mostly just ate burgers."

"Whatever you ate, it wasn't worth violating one of my clearest rules!" They sighed. "Look, I'll let you all off the hook this time, since clearly none of you had any malicious intent." They walked towards the portal, while eyeing Winner, "and using your limitless power irresponsibly, even for just a minute, is admittedly tempting," before standing in front of it. "But you all could've gotten very hurt, and for that risk alone, I don't want you ever sneaking out like that again."

They turned around. "Now I'm going to go get some stuff for oh MY GOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDD!" They screamed as they saw a flurry of tanks, helicopters, and police cars aiming directly at them. They hastily ripped the portal off the wall, folding it into a bite-sized piece before swallowing it with a quick gulp. They breathed heavily for a few seconds. Winner raised their eyebrows. "That's impressive." "WHAT DID YOU- Thanks, by the way, thank you for noticing, but WHAT DID YOU DO!?"

Pillow pulled out some shoelaces. "We also killed the president."

Nickel bit into his fried caviar. It was crunchier, and more bitter than his previous feast. "Well, maybe two week house arrest isn't that bad after all!" Naily perked, kicking her feet against her assigned bed as she switched on the TV. "Yeah," Taggy said as they huddled under the blanket. "We get room service and everything!" "AND, THANKS TO DOORDASH, 4% CASHBACK ON EVERY PURCHASE." Cheered Bomby. Naily awkwardly nodded. Perhaps exposure to the viewers' world had gone to his head.

She looked up at the roof - gray, like the rest of the room - and silently sighed. While she appeared about as optimistic as the others, secretly, Naily couldn't wait to get out of here. The room's dull coloring was nowhere near as visually stimulating as her walls, which were somehow littered with bright neon blinkie gifs and other animated posters. She stared enviously at the bed which would've been assigned to Book had she not been pardoned by Two. Stupid justice. She was probably being rewarded with a nice, tropical vacation for her efforts to stop the situation from escalating before it began, while the rest of the team lounged in prison.

Naily was right: but in actuality, being separated from her friends even for a little while was perhaps just as punishing to Book as this ordeal was to Naily. The friend group they shared was tight-knit: nobody could stay mad at each other for long, and even if they didn't think it, they longed to see each other again and quickly reconcile.

"Well, Burger Kings come and go…" Cake stated as he ate a fry, whose recipe had been copied from the titular restaurant after much research, "but you're all the only monarchs I'll ever need."

Awkward, yet sweet. That was Cake. He huddled up with the rest of his team in a hug while thinking about how Loser would be the royal jester in this metaphor.

Ironically, Nickel thought to himself as he took another bite of his caviar, Two perhaps did need to go to the viewers' world to make proper ground sevruga after all, before the incident made it too dangerous for anyone to venture into again. Except it wasn't the caviar that was obtained from the viewers' world.

It was the microwaves, delivered by Black Sea Shipping Company.

Pillow crept into her room. It had been vacant for the past fortnite on account of her house arrest. Her friends were currently having a reunion party downstairs to celebrate finally being able to interact with the outside world. How naive, or rather, ignorant. They had finally taken a step outside of their little bubble and were still perfectly content with staying inside? Their loss.

She bit her fingernail into the shape of a key, and unlocked her drawer. Two had confiscated her gun after finding it during the car inspection. They didn't, however, think to search her room. Searching through her pile of backup weapons, she found another: a ray gun. Smaller, and with a much slower firing speed, but it packed a punch if you had good aim. Perfect for what she was trying to achieve.

She switched it to "Portal" mode. The incident was probably all over the news by now. It would take a lot of work to cover it all up, but if Pillow had her heart set on fixing what was broken, chances are it wouldn't take more than a few hours. If all went well she would be back in time to catch the end of the party.

She aimed at the floor.

She breathed in.

She fired.

#this sucks but i am free. okay? #bfdi #bfb #tpot #maintagging this WE BALL! 🏀🏀🏀⛹️🏀⛹️⛹️⛹️ #sketch.swf #fic.avi #Naily bfb #Naily tpot #Price Tag BFB #Price tag tpot #Cake bfb #Cake tpot #Nickel bfb #Nickel tpot #Bomby BFB #Bomby TPOT #Book BFB #Book TPOT #Pillow BFB #Pillow TPOT #nailtag #nailtagbomb #just not TPOT #much of this was written before tpot 6 which is why 4 and X arent there. sorry #also there was meant to be a scene where Loser calls Cake on the phone while everyone's in the drive thru and orders onion rings #wouldve been cute and established that all of the post-split contestants were back as well but i forgot Lol #i need an ensemble tag for when i do the whole team the last time i did it there were so many tags it messed with the search results

[staceymcgillicuddy]

Prompt #9 please!

Oh, Nonnie, this is my last prompt in the inbox and it got me all in my emotions as well! Love an established relationship feelings-fest! (Prompt is "Listen to me.")

~~~~~~~

“Chrissy?” 

Eddie taps on the door of their overpriced hotel room and waits. He has a key, but he wants to respect her need to take a moment. After all, it isn’t every day that your wife flees her little brother’s rehearsal dinner in tears after telling her own sainted mother to “just shut up, okay?” 

Not that Laura Cunningham’s much of a saint. Still, Eddie’s treading carefully because this is the first significant time they’ve spent with the Cunninghams since the Christmas disaster of ’91, and there’s nothing that can send Chrissy spiraling back into the abyss of her childhood faster than a scathing comment from her mother. 

“Hey, Bets,” he says, trying again with a nickname that he only pulls out when the stakes are high. He can’t remember how it started—Christine Elizabeth shortened to Lizzie, Beth, Betty, Bets, maybe—but after eleven years together, eight of them married, and a hundred pet names split between them, what does remembering matter?

Pressing his ear to the door, he waits until he hears a sob before deciding that she’s had warning enough and uses his key.

The room smells like Chrissy’s perfume with an undercurrent of faux-floral toilet scrub. It’s not a place they could ever have afforded alone, which is part of the problem. As parents of the groom (and at said groom’s request), Phillip and Laura are paying for their attendance, which has set Chrissy on a self-destructive path where she has to battle a tornado of tolerance and an earthquake of obligation and yes, sure, Eddie’d suggested they just get a room at the Motel 8 and save themselves the hassle, but she’d wanted to do it for her brother. For Charlie. For his bride-to-be, Addie, who’s actually a cool girl. They’ve been to stay with Chrissy and Eddie in Chicago twice now, and Eddie digs her taste in music more than he’ll ever admit. 

(Addie also said she dug Eddie’s band-on-the-side, which is all he needs to love someone forever.) 

“Eddie,” comes a plaintive wail from the bed.

Chrissy’s curled on her side with a pillow hugged to her abdomen, still wearing the blue floral dress she’d sported to dinner. It has ridden up her thighs considerably, and Eddie must have grown as a person because he only thinks about that for maybe .02 seconds as he crawls onto the bed behind her and wraps an arm around her waist to pull her against his chest. 

“She had it coming,” he says into her artfully coiffed hair, which rests shellacked and sticky against his lips. “Baby. She did.” 

“Is Ch-Ch-Addie mad?” 

“Nobody’s mad except your mother.” In fact—and he won’t tell her this now—Addie’d been hiding a giggle behind a napkin. Eddie knows for a fact that she feels about Laura much the same as he does. Only, you know, she can’t say that to Chrissy because while Chrissy’s allowed to hate her mother, nobody else can say a word, and God, yeah, families are complicated. Eddie’s grateful that he only has to worry about Wayne, and Wayne never gives them any trouble. 

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” she says around another miserable little sniffle. 

“Eh.” He shrugs and kisses the spot where her shoulder meets her neck. “She was picking at you, and you snapped. It happens.” 

“But I wasn’t going to do it this time! I was… I worked on all those coping m-mechanisms!” That brings a fresh volley of tears. “Sandra’s going to be so disappointed.” 

“What, like you’re gonna get a bad grade in therapy?” 

“Yes!” She trills the word out on a wail.

Eddie loves her so much, but she’s making a mountain out of a molehill, and while he never minds comforting this particular damsel in distress, he’s also not gonna let her beat herself up when Laura’s the one who threw the first punch. 

“Alright, buddy, c’mon.” He pulls away enough to coax her onto her back, where she stares up at him from puffy, red-rimmed eyes and a blotchy complexion. “Hey.” 

“Hi,” she says. 

There’s snot beneath her nose, so he grabs a Kleenex from the box on the nightstand and holds it to her face. “Blow.”

She blows—honks if he’s honest—and he chucks the tissue onto the table before focusing on her. 

“Okay, counselor, facts of the case. Did your mother kick the evening off by telling you your dress was too tight?” 

Chrissy frowns. “It is, and—”

“Bzzt!” Eddie digs his fingers into her side, which has the intended effect of shocking her into a squeal. “Irrelevant. Conjecture. Also, bullshit. You look hot. So, true or false, counselor? Did she do that?” 

Chrissy nods, mute, pressing her lips into a thin line. But, hey. Not crying, so that’s something. 

“And did she, or did she not, tell everyone at the table that they’re paying for us to be here?” 

Another nod. 

“After which—and correct me if I’m wrong here—she put her hand over your plate so the waiter couldn’t give you any of the lobster risotto.” 

Chrissy’s mouth twists into what might be termed a smile, and she shrugs. 

“So then I switched plates with you, and she gave me that look she always gives me.” 

“What look?” 

“The look where I’m a pile of actual dogshit she’s just stepped in.” 

“Oh.” Chrissy’s smile widens, and she shrugs. “Right. That look.” 

“All of that to say, by the time she gave her little speech about grandchildren and welcoming a daughter into the family… I dunno, Bets, it felt like justifiable homicide to me.” 

“But I did it in front of everyone…” 

“Yeah, well, so did she.” 

“But—“ 

“No buts. Listen to me. Your mother’s never going to change, but you change every day. That’s why you’ve got me, and Sandra, and all our friends who actually like you instead of the stupid little dress-up doll your mother spent eighteen years trying to turn you into.” 

This is not the first time they’ve had this conversation. Chrissy already knows how he feels. However, if the message takes a million times to sink in, Eddie’s willing to keep talking. 

Chrissy blinks, sniffs, and rubs her eyes. “Okay,” she says because she’s not so good at acknowledging the truth of the matter. “I should call Charlie’s room. Apologize to him and Addie and—”

“Or,” Eddie says, cutting her off before she can work herself into another lather. “We could call up room service and charge two fucking massive slices of chocolate cake to your parents.” 

“Eddie…” 

“Best part is, they’re both for you.” 

"Eddie."

"I'll have a bite. And you can call your brother, too."

~~~~~~

All the prompts I've answered!

#bsc diaries #Anonymous #prompt meme #hellcheer #fanfic #hellcheer fanfic

[lostghost0o0]

The Outsiders Headcannons: At a Mexican Party

Ponyboy -

would be super awkward at first

he would be sitting at the ‘kids table’, just fidgeting with his fingers

eventually the primos would start to small talk with him, getting him to open up

all the adults really like him

they think that he’s super respectful and polite

of course the tios will tease him over his name

but then they’d probably reassure him, pat his back and say something like; “No mas estamos jugando contigo, mijo!”

they’d think he’s to skinny and practically force him to eat lol

“Comé, mijo, comé!”

abuelita would absolutely adore him

she’d ask him to help her with everything, and Ponyboy being the mannered kid he is, would always oblige

she’d pinch and kiss his cheeks

“Gracias mijito!”; “U-Uhh.. no problem…”

Pony would blush and get all embarrassed and the gang would tease him

secretly likes the motherly love from abuelita

Sodapop -

I can’t think of a lot for him 😭

I’ll try tho

the primas would absolutely swoon over him lol

they would ask him to dance repeatedly

the primos would ask him for tips on how to get girls and he would gladly give them advice

one of the little kids would probably have a crush on him

they’d get jealous of one of the primas that got to dance with him, might even throw a small tantrum

the tias would constantly make comments like; “Estas tan guapo, mijo!” “Que hermoso niño!” “Tienes novia, mijo?”

they would try and hook him up with their daughters

I could honestly see him flirting with the tias playfully/as a joke and the tias would laugh all loud

they’d do that cheer that tias do like; “Ahhhhhh!”

Darry -

Darry would kinda just be there

but he’d definitely get along with everyone

everyone thinks he’s this super strong guy and they ask him to do favors for them a lot

the little kids would think he’s a superhero or something and some might follow him around

they’d probably beg him to pick them up lol

the tios would probably give him a nickname like; “Superman” “Luchador” “Rocky”

they also think that he’s super responsible

one tired mom would probably ask him if he could take her sleeping baby inside to a random bedroom

“Oh, sure. Where do you want him?”; “It doesn’t matter, just as long as he’s in a bed and he doesn’t roll off.”

Darry does NOT know how to hold a baby

the whole time he’s internally freaking out; ‘Am I holding him too tight?’ ‘Am I doing this right?’ ‘I don’t wanna drop em’, please don’t drop him’

he’s actually doing fine but to ease his worries the tias help him out anyways

If it’s a kid’s birthday then I can totally see him helping out the tios holding up the piñata

he’d actually really enjoy the party, they’d make him feel appreciated :)

Johnny -

they’d probably all think that he’s Mexican

everyone would automatically feel comfortable around him and speak to him in Spanish

Johnny would kinda just look at them confused before explaining that he doesn’t understand

“Como estas en escuela?”; “Uh… S-Sorry I don’t speak Spanish…”

they’d think that he’s just a ‘no sabo kid’ and try and teach him Spanish

Johnny is pretty quiet and stand-offish so everyone would try and include him in everything

drinking, dancing, karaoke, anything you can think of they called him over to join them

I think it would be cute if they called him ‘morrocho’ due to his dark tanned skin

constantly feeding the family dog when nobody’s looking

I also think it’s cute if he develops a soft spot for the kids at the party

like, he lets them drag him around to play with them

according to the book, he’s the shortest in the gang

the primos tease him a little over his height and at some point they even toss him up in the air(my own primos have done that before lol)

they accidentally throw him up really high and poor Johnny is a bit shaken up(has also happened to me), they immediately apologize

all in all, he starts to feel a part of the family :)

Dallas -

the kids absolutely love him and he “hates” that

he wanted to be mean and mess with the kids so he flipped over the bouncy castle

he wasn’t aware the kids would find it fun tho and begged him the rest of the night to do it again

“Do it again! Do it again!”; “No.”

the kids would definitely follow him around because they think of him as the cool older kid

if it was a kid’s birthday party he would definitely wreck the piñata, yank it off the rope, and rip it open, spilling the candy everywhere

Darry would be annoyed but the kids would cheer and quickly scram to the ground to find candy, almost making Dal fall

he would also smash the birthday kid’s face into the cake to be mean, and again, the kids thought it was funny

he would definitely flirt with all the primas, they would think he’s a perv or cute or both

they also think his blue eyes are scary

the primos and him would have a little beef cause Dallas yelled at them for throwing up Johnny lol

would def get along with that one cholo cousin there

the adults don’t like him, they think he’s a bad influence

he complains about the attention he’s getting from the kids but deep down he likes it

Two-Bit -

you KNOW this man is drinking with the tios

they all think he’s funny af

would laugh his ass off when the kid got their face smashed into the cake

he has no enemies fr

everyone likes him, old and young

he somehow learns how to dance cumbia, bachata, la iguana, merengue, and how to zapatear all in one night

but he absolutely STRUGGLES with salsa(same)

there’s always that one tia that encourages people to dance, so of course she called up Two to dance with her

everything was going fine till Marc Anthony’s ‘Flor Palida’ came on, he actually tripped over his own feet and fell lmao

he learns how to do ‘a la bim, a la bom, a la bim bom ba’, which is basically a way of cheering before taking a drink

he basically becomes one of the tios

when they play loteria and el borracho comes up, they say his name

he leaves the party all wobbly too, they gotta help him to the car

I strongly believe that he would leave the party dressed completely different, probably like this;

Steve -

was stuffing his face the entire time

birria, carne asada, menudo, posole, arroz con leche, flan, anything you can think of

he felt like he was in heaven

when people didn’t finish their food they would pass the plates over to him

the kids don’t like him

when the candy from the piñata came out he dove in and stole some of it from the kids just to pick on them

many cried and later that night they ganged up on him lmao

I KNOW he knows how to do a grito, he’s super good at it too

he empresses everyone when he does it

he’ll try to speak Spanish but it just sounds so funny

he’ll speak Spanish with a thick American, southern accent

he definitely gets competitive in loteria

he practically shouts buenas when he wins

“La Escalera-“; “BUeNaS!!”

he’ll leave the party with a whole bunch of containers of food

BONUS!

Cherry -

would honestly be uncomfortable at first since she’s never really been to any parties before

there’s also a lot of people, makes her a bit nervous

but some primas start to talk to her and she starts to ease up

the tias think she’s absolutely beautiful and don’t hesitate to tell her

“Ay, eres tan hermosa!” “Que bonito pelo tienes!”

similar with Soda, they’d try and hook her up with one of their sons

she’s an only child but she’s always wanted little siblings, so she absolutely adores the little kids

she plays with them as long as it doesn’t involve getting dirty

she stays with the primos in one room for most of the night, where the primas spill the chisme

“Y sabes que? I heard that Ricky got a girl pregnant!”; *gasp* “No way!”

a couple of little kids sneak into the room and the primos yell at them to leave, but Cherry convinces them to let them stay

the little kids braid Cherry’s hair and she just lets them, they listen to the chisme and whisper some of their own add-ons to Cherry

she ends up leaving the party with all the primas’ numbers and they continue to talk chisme on the phone

#the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #ponyboy michael curtis #sodapop patrick curtis #darry curtis #johnny cade #dallas winston #two bit mathews #steve randle #cherry valance #se hinton #mexican #hispanic heritage month #coming soon #i had so much fun with this #lowkey #feel like im sharing my culture with ya’ll #:) <3 #Spotify