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#Can I get a whole show where he's just running
ccsainzleclerc5516 · 2 days
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You Could Be Mine
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: smut
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It was a hot summer evening and you found yourself on a private party on a 100 m yacht in Monaco hosted by none other than Lando Norris. Actually, you weren't initially invited, your best friend was, but when she mentioned to Lando that you were in town too, he was more than happy to send you a verbal invitation through her.
Lando and you have a history together. You met a year ago in a club when you were visiting Monaco for the first time. He was your friend's friend and from the first moment you laid eyes on each other there was an undeniable attraction between you two. You spent 3 unforgettable wild nights together back then, but there has never been anything more since then.
And here you were again, back in town, at his party. There was quite a lot of people for a private party, a lot of girls too, but his eyes were glancing at you the whole night. You could feel his gaze searching for you, but you also saw how many girls around him were practically begging for his attention and you weren't gonna be one of them.
You don't want him that much, you thought.
That's why he couldn't wait to catch you alone somewhere. Once you wandered onto the upper deck, the highest one where was no people, Lando saw his chance and took it. You two quickly got into talking. He was so obviously flirting with you, he really wasn't wasting any time, he wanted to let you know that you've been on his mind and that he didn't forget about your nights together.
"So for how long are you staying in Monaco?" He asked stepping closer to you holding his hands in the pockets of his white linen pants.
"Two more nights." You say biting your lip.
"That's such a shame.." Pulling them out of his pockets, one of his hands finds its way to your cheek and the other to your waist pulling you closer to him. "If only I'd known sooner that you were here..."
"And why is that?" You ask glancing at his lips as his thumb caresses your cheek.
He runs his tongue over his lip then gently traces with his finger over your bottom lip before mumbling "What if I told you I've been getting off to the thought of you?"
You smirk squeezing your thighs hoping he wouldn't notice it while your faces are only inches away from each other's.
"It wasn't easy to forget you either, I must admit"
"Yeah?" He asks and you nod putting your hands against his chest looking up at him. "So what are we gonna do about it then?"
"Well, you tell me"
"I'd rather show you" He murmurs before he finally presses his lips against yours. The kiss gradually changed from gentle and slow to fast, passionate and heated. He was hungry for more of whatever this was between the two of you. His tongue ran over your bottom lip asking for permission to enter which you willingly granted.
"Fuck, I forgot what a good kisser you are" He pants and you blush hiding your face in his shoulder. He gently moves your hair out of your neck so he can leave sloppy kisses that send tingly feelings through your body.
His hand slowly comes between your thighs slowly working its way up under your short dress as you slightly part your legs for him. Just as his fingers were about to reach your wet lace panties, a squeaky female voice interrupts you.
"Lando!" The girl screams from downstairs making you quickly close and squeeze your thighs at the loss of his touch as he pulls back from you. "Where are you? Are you coming down?" The girl asks climbing a few stairs to see him. It was the girl who had been crawling all over him all evening desperately trying to get a minute of his attention. Her gaze stops at you raising her eyebrow and eyeing you up and down.
"Give me a minute" Lando says brushing her off to which she mumbles something rolling her eyes, clearly annoyed at his lack of interests, and leaves.
"Is that your girlfriend to be?" You provoke.
"She'd like that, but she never will be" He reassures you once again pulling your body closer to him. "But you could be" You giggle, but don't say anything to his unexpected proposal?
"I'd love to fuck you against this fence now," He whispers squeezing your hips. "But I'll do that in the morning when everyone leaves"
"What makes you think I'll be here in the morning?" You tease him.
"There's no way I'm letting you go before I show you how much I've been thinking about you." He groans as you slowly lift your leg and press your knee lightly into his crotch. "Fuck, you're driving me crazy..Come with me right now"
Lando goes down the stairs first and you follow behind him. He takes your hand leading you as you two disappear unnoticed into one of the rooms on the yacht.
As soon as the door closed he was pressing you against them forcing his tongue inside your mouth and lifting up your dress. You whimpered as he vigorously turned you around pulling your panties to the side and gently pushing your cheek against the hard surface of the door. He slipped his fingers inside you only to spread your wetness all over your slit and over his tip before teasing you with it.
"Lan" You moaned.
"What baby?" He murmurs into your ear rubbing his cock over your folds, but not pushing himself in. "Tell me what you want"
"Stop with the teasing and fuck me already"
"Fuck, you turn me on so much you don't even know. Feel how hard you make me? It's fucking aching for you" He hisses grinding against your ass.
He positions his cock at your entrance and you eagerly push your ass back on him. You were dripping wet so he slid in without the slightest trouble.
"So ready for me" He groans scraping his teeth over your bare shoulder making you shiver. "You're so tight baby, fuuuck"
He was thrusting into you deep and fast, your ass was grinding back against his pelvis as the sound of your skin slapping against each other filled the room. You were so into each other that you weren't even trying to be quiet. You almost forgot that anyone could walk by the room and hear your moaning.
As the familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach started building, from the other side of the door, the squeaky voice of the girl who interrupted you once was heard again.
"Lando?"
"Shit" The voice snaps you back to reality as he abruptly stops moving making you whine ruining your orgasm.
"Lando, are you in there?" She asks again. He puts his hand over your mouth breathing heavily as he slowly starts moving again.
"Should I tell her how deep inside of me you are?" You ask quietly removing his hand from your mouth.
"She's fucking crazy, and I don't want anyone to touch you" He pulls out of you and turns you around to face him.
"I'm not scared of her, I know she can't have you the way I can" You didn't even mind that she was behind the door because you knew you had all his attention, you knew he was starving only your touch.
You start kissing his wide neck, running your tongue over the veins that were popping out as he throws his head back.
"Fuck, she's not even half of you"
He reaches under your ass tapping your thighs signaling you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. When you do so he leads you to the bed gently throwing you down and getting on top of you.
"I missed you" He says looking at your lips before you connect them. You were clinging to each other as he started thrusting into you again only this time slow, deep and raw. He was enjoying the feeling of your walls tightly hugging him.
"I missed you too" You were moaning into each other's mouth, gasping for air as both of you were getting closer and closer. "Faster, Lan, please"
"You gonna cum with me?" He asks. You nod and he quickens his pace. "I'm n-not pulling out, okay?" His voice cracked and legs trembled. You didn't even have time to answer as your climax penetrated your whole body. Lando's quickly followed by filling you up to the top.
"Ohh fuuck" He moaned before collapsing down on you.
When your breathing calmed down he propped himself up on his elbows looking at you and caressing your cheek before placing a soft kiss on it. "You okay, baby?" He asks.
"Yeah" You blush at the nickname he didn't call you by the last time you were together.
"Why are you blushing?" He asks smiling, but you're too shy to say why. "Tell me"
"I'm not telling you"
"Is it because I called you baby?" You giggle trying to hide your face to the side from him, but his fingers pull your chin back to face him. "I'm not letting you leave Monaco this time. You're staying here with me."
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Party Animal
Steve hated parties. And who could blame him? The infamous Halloween party of 1984 left more scars on his heart than he carried from all his other misadventures. Alcohol made people say thinks they buried deep inside, but then instead of owning up to them, they'd say "I was drunk", as if that was any excuse. So yes, Steve and parties didn't go together anymore.
And yet he stupidly decided to throw one anyway.
Look, they deserved it. All of them did - Eddie, Nancy, Robin, even Jonathan and Argyle, they all earned acting like actual teenagers for one evening. Steve wanted to see Eddie, now miraculously his boyfriend, just have fun, laugh, be silly. So a party it was.
It all went great - dancing, drinking, nibbling on mountains of Argyle's homemade pizza - but eventually they all got drunk. Not Steve, he just sipped one beer and kept an eye on everyone. Jonathan and Argyle were smoking outside, Nancy and Robin flirted in the most embarrassing way possible and Eddie...
Steve heard sniffling from the bathroom and his heart sank.
He didn't want to go there. He didn't want to be told that this was all a misunderstanding, that he pressured Eddie with his flirting, didn't want to hear he's bullshit again.
But no matter how terrified he was, he could never abandon Eddie. So he went in.
Eddie was leaning over the sink, wiping at his face and trying to control his breathing. "Shit..." he muttered and turned away from Steve. "Sorry, I...uh. I'll be there in a sec."
"Eddie..." It came out as a whisper. "Are...are you okay? Did I do something?"
Eddie just chuckled and pulled hair in front of his face. "Sure did," he mumbled.
And it made horrible sense to Steve. Of course he was the reason Eddie was crying. He couldn't help fucking up, he'd tried so hard to change but apparently it was 1984 all over again. So he took a deep breath and waited for the final blow.
"You're just perfect, Stevie."
Oh.
That wasn't what being broken up with sounded like. In fact, Eddie didn't seem angry at him at all. "...sorry?"
Eddie laughed, wet and high in his throat. "Like, you...you are too good to be true, you know? You throw a party for us and then you even don't drink so we're all cared for if anything happens? You...you give your best friend a green light to date your ex who shredded your heart to pieces? You invite the guy that your ex cheated on you with and his friend? You're just so good about it. And you're funny and so bitchy that I want to kiss you all the time. And I just...I love you so much, you know? And I've never felt that way about anyone and it's fucking scary, man."
Steve's racing thoughts came to a screching halt. Where he was too busy panicking and praying he'd still have time to fix whatever he did, now his brain settled on maybe I'm not getting broken up with? "So, uh..." he muttered as he watched Eddie try fix his eyeliner, "...there's, like, nothing wrong? Or maybe...do you want me to go slower? I know I can be a lot."
His boyfriend gave an incredulous laugh. There was no salvaging the eyeliner now, it was getting caught in Eddie's early crow feet, and Steve had never seen a more beautiful sight. "No, Steve. You're not a lot. In fact, you're just enough in every single way, but knowing that you're it for me, that good things can happen...it makes me terrified. I've never put all my drugs in a single lunchbox, or whatever metaphor you want to use for it, but with you I'm just throwing all the caution into the wind. And for the first time, I..." he stopped, chewing on his lip, "...I don't want to run away when I mess up. I want to stay, face the music and fix it. You're re-writing the Munson doctrine again and again and I just...I don't want you to settle for me, Steve. You are the whole package and I'm still cleaning all my messes. I guess today showed me that and I...yeah. Sorry about all this," he pointed at his tear-streaked face.
Eddie suddenly seemed so small, so insecure, and that wouldn't do. It woke Steve up from his frozen state and he took a step forward, cradling Eddie's face in his palms. "I'm not. Settling for you, that is." He was probably smudging the black even more, but Eddie would have been beautiful to him even fully covered in grime, and there were more important things to focus on. "Eddie, you keep talking about the Munson doctrine and being work in progress, but you don't see how you've thrown all the stuff I used to do out of the window, and I'm better for it. With you, I don't feel rushed, I don't have to perform or pretend. I can just live in the moment."
As he continued his speech, something strange started happening. Seeing people cry normally had a guaranteed effect on Steve - just one tear, quiet sob and he pushed his emotions down to be dealt with later or possibly never, someone needed him, and that was the priority. But now, staring at Eddie's wet eyes and shaky hands? He felt his own face crumbling and what better place to hide it than in Eddie's Metallica t-shirt. It smelled of cigarettes, pizza and the cheap laundry detergent that had come to mean home to Steve. "Sorry," he choked out. "Shit. I was...sorry, I'm supposed to be...you know. Consoling you. But I heard you crying and I thought...I..."
Eddie shook his head and tightened his grip on Steve's waist. "Oh Stevie. Whatever that pretty head of yours thought of, it's not happening. Unless it's kissing me, which duh, that's happening, if you want to of course, and staying with me to the point that you're sick of me."
Steve just whimpered into Eddie's shoulder, something that suspiciously sounded like "Now who's perfect, huh?"
His boyfriend just chuckled. "I guess that in a way, we both are. Maybe for each other?" If he'd aimed for self-deprecating tone, he failed. Instead, it was hopeful.
Steve didn't answer, but his embrace said it all.
They remained wrapped around each other for a long while, until Eddie whispered in Steve's ear: "how about we let the others celebrate on their own, hm? They won't be driving, their stuff is already in the guest bedrooms, and I hear your bed is wonderful this time of the year."
There was a muffled "yes" coming from Eddie's shoulder, and a few adjustments and "Good night!"s later, they found themselves in Steve's bedroom. Eddie managed to remove most of the rogue eyeliner, which was lucky. The time in the bathroom wasn't the last time he shed a tear that day, because as they were falling asleep, Steve said:
"You might be the first person who is dating the real me, and I'd like you to be the last one as well."
Tomorrow, he'd hold a funeral for the Munson doctrine. But today, he was going to wrap himself around Steve like a cuddly octopus and know that even if he doesn't manage to hold on tight the whole night, Steve would be there in the morning.
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xueyidweams · 3 days
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My faves of Penacony (Aventurine & Acheron) x gn!reader who gives them a flower bouquet ramble(!!!!)
Aventurine
i have fancy gifs now woagh!
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You were a bartender at a bar that was located in a pretty big casino in Penacony, where the gamblers come to drink their defeat away or celebrate their big wins. You’re pretty used to the racket and seeing the same faces and one day you see him. That gambler, he who never loses, he who has such pretty eyes and lips and he who winks at you so handsomely as you try to do your job and he who always seems to make some sort of electricity run through your whole body when your fingers brush.
You’re not a child, you know you at least like him romantically. You were gonna show your love with some flowers! That’s a classic, right? So you pick up some that you think match his pretty eyes perfectly and go to work, it’s pretty awkward but you can’t really see him anywhere else so this is your only shot.
You perk up as you’re cleaning some glasses and you hear his voice. Your heart does its routine again, beating so fast you feel like it’s gonna zoom out of your chest. You pat your chest just where your heart is and take a deep breath as he calls for his favorite drink. You make it, giving yourself an internal pep talk while doing so, and you present him with his drink. Only now, his glass is decorated with the flowers you bought for him, you decided to be more subtle at the end with a little note. “I hope you like the flowers, no match for your pretty eyes but I hope it makes you smile nonetheless.” Aeons you sucked at romance but damn it you tried and now you feel hot under the collar as you try your best to focus on your customers while aventurine’s eyes are STARING directly at your nape you can FEEL it.
You flinch a bit when he calls your name with that sultry voice of his, you go up to him trying to keep up some sort of professionalism. though that all goes down the window when he beckons you a bit closer, picks up a flower from the glass and tucks it onto your ear. “I think they look even prettier on you.” You stumble over your words as he smiles wordlessly, his eyes full of warmth you didn’t know they could hold and oh Aeons he is so much more pretty like this. Prettier closer, you really don’t want to pull away but there are customers yelling for you already and ugh!
He chuckles as he notices your obvious agitation, “go look after your customers, I’ll treat you to dinner if you’d like? Whatever you want, it’s on me.” He gets even closer, he is shorter when he’s sitting and its adorable to see him looking up at you— “if you’d allow me to privilege of getting to know you better, of course.”
Acheron
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As a hotel worker for the family themselves you’re expected to be professional and helpful at all times. Always show a smile never be so impatient, they are precious guests after all.
You sigh as you clean another pool of a soda that’s not even sold in Penacony, how did that even get there? as you complain in your mind about how rude these people are to you just because you’re getting paid to clean up their messes doesn’t mean they can just—
“Hello?”
Your head snaps up and your customer smile comes back, “Hello! Anything I can help you with, miss?” She blinks at you for a moment, caught off guard by your overly cheery attitude, she looks around and then at you. her gaze feels intense, it makes you feel shy. She finally speaks, “I’m.. lost. I don’t know where my room is.” Oh, okay that’s easy.
“What was the number, miss?” She looks at you blankly again, you both sit in silence for a few seconds, and she speaks again. “I’m sorry I forgot that… too.” You sigh as you internally facepalm. Deciding that this pretty but directionally confused lady needs help, you put on your big person pants and ask for her room number from the reception and you escort her to her room. She thanks you as she looks at you from head to toe, there’s a small smile on her face.
This happens a few more times over the week, you keep helping her. her company is really nice, she doesn’t really judge and you can talk about how much of a bother she can be, she affirms your woes with a nod or a hum and thats enough honestly. worst of all.. okay look, love at first sight might be cliche but come on! she’s pretty, tall, has a nice voice and is polite to you. she even brushed a plastic leaf that got on your head and her hand dipped to your cheek, you could feel the cold metal on her fingers and the eye contact went on for a few seconds too long and you felt yourself melt. plus! she was a guest, who knows how long she’s gonna be here? better take your chances.
You give yourself a pretty short pep talk, “if yes hug her if no run away.” pretty good plan all things considered. You had a purple flower bouquet on your hands and some chocolate that was cheesily made for valentine and you got it half for the price. You knock on her door and hear a shuffle, with every step she takes your heart beats faster and faster until she opens the door and it feels like the time stops. You stutter and stumble as her eyes bore into you, she seems full of interest but it still makes you nervous to be the center of attention. “I.. I um… ah!” You can’t do it, you thrust the flowers onto her arms, she takes it and you make a run for it, you’re so dumb dumb dumb what the hell were you thinking oh Aeons she hates you now she does—
what you don’t see is her smelling the flowers and looking after your running form, a familiar yet distinct warmth bleeds to her heart. Her smile a little softer, her eyes a little warmer, she holds onto the flowers and the next time she sees you, she will have some flowers ready for you too.
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barbatusart · 3 days
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bit of thinking outloud but for my current tactician run im doing a special wyll origins playthrough im calling the Evil Wyll Run & it’s given me a lot of food for thought about his character (or at least the freedom of psychological movement + exploration afforded to an origin run!)
wyll spoilers abound we’re entering the wyllenium here
wyll always felt a bit underwritten to me - i know that’s partially because there was that big kerfuffle in the 11th hour with changing his whole story and personality on top of having to recast his VA, and frankly hats off to both original VA lanre malaolu & new VA theo solomon for their hard work - both brought tremendous performances, & i sincerely hope mr malaolu was paid well for his work & time even if his voice wasn’t used in the final cut (i would also say warlock as a class itself felt a bit underdeveloped but im 100% OK with chalking that up to me the player not understanding how to play warlock effectively yet lol im more of a fighter barbarian Hit Stuff guy)
but honestly this feeling of being “underwritten” combined with a character with a long history of heroism in his pocket made wyll really interesting to me even in my tav playthrough. for all his accomplishments he still feels like a blank everyman, or like he’s someone who fully believes he’s the main character who doesn’t “need” to do any extra work on himself - and honestly he feels Very much like he could be The Main Character. once his backstory of the son of the duke was revealed too i immediately got the sense of like, rich boy trying to prove his worth beyond his wealth and status by striking out & becoming that hero, or that Prince Charming. basically that perfect happily ever after somebody. and im of the opinion that you don’t get mixed up with a cambion in the first place unless you’re either the kind of naïve “everything will just work out” immature that tends to comes with his status as the son of a noble, or you’re hungering for power. depending on playstyle he’s very easily both of these things
on the naïve front (ie a good wyll playthrough) if anything he feels very believably immature, & from that perspective the events of the game feel as though they’re the prequel to the actual start of wyll's story where he finally finds himself & learns what kind of man he really is. we just dont get to see it alas, but i really enjoyed the thought exercise of somebody still grappling with overcoming his own immaturity. he feels like someone who can still grow and that his tale is just beginning
Evil Wyll (meaning any time mizora shows up he drops everything to enact her instruction & hasnt once tried to find a loophole out of his contract) which ive come to be far more fascinated by is someone clearly vying for power, which is interesting because his noble status would’ve given him all the power he wants had he Played Nice. to me it speaks of someone who wants to be able to take what he wants from life without it being handed to him, which contrasts in a really fascinating way with entering into a warlock pact at all. maybe he thought it was better that it be a decision he made as opposed to nobility given to him by his family ties, maybe there’s still that pollyanna sentiment of “it’ll just work out & ill live happily ever after.” again maybe both. maybe in a sense the fiend, as he calls himself, is a good excuse to shuck off any poor decision he makes or any genuinely heinous thing he does under mizora’s instruction - an identity he uses as power fantasy (and very much in tandem/interchangeable with the blade of frontiers power fantasy) until it means taking ownership for any of his misdeeds, and then a scapegoat.
may be a bit incoherent but im only now hitting act 3 in my origin run & im Really enjoying this difficult characterization ive cooked up for myself lol
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swamp-adder · 2 days
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I keep wondering about the financial situation between Holmes and Watson after the Hiatus. At Holmes' request, Watson quits his job and moves back in with Holmes to continue helping him with cases. Did Watson receive any kind of payment for his help -- a cut of the money Holmes received from his clients perhaps? A lot of fanfiction seems to assume they were equal partners and Watson got half; but honestly any scenario I can imagine seems awkward to me in one way or another:
- Watson being treated as an equal partner and getting half the money seems awkward when according to what's depicted in the stories Holmes was doing the vast majority of the actual work and Watson was mostly there because Holmes liked having someone to talk to.
- Watson receiving some money, but not a full half, makes Watson explicitly subordinate to Holmes in an employer/employee relationship, which just seems like an awkward dynamic to introduce into any friendship.
- Watson not getting paid at all would be awkward because Watson just quit his job for the sake of helping Holmes out, and has also been forbidden by Holmes from publishing any more stories for the time being. Meanwhile Holmes at this point in his career we're told is absolutely rolling in dough, creating a serious income disparity between them which could hardly help but be awkward.
Watson's financial resources that we know of at this point would consist of his wound pension and whatever royalties he's still getting from his earlier stories, plus the money he got from "Verner" for his medical practice. We're told in DYIN that Holmes' "payments [for the flat] were princely. I have no doubt that the house might have been purchased at the price which Holmes paid for his rooms during the years that I was with him." That makes it sound like Holmes was more than paying the full rent for the apartment by himself, so at the least Watson was probably living there for free. (This quote is from DYIN, which seems to be set pre-Hiatus, so this arrangement might have begun even by then.) Which also seems potentially awkward -- like something that could make Watson feel like a freeloader or whatever.
Honestly it's very understandable why Watson never explicitly talks about money, because the whole thing is just awkward any way you slice it!!
In the earlier days the whole thing seems less awkward to me because a) Holmes had less money himself and b) Watson is just choosing not to get a job and to run around with his friend instead, rather than having given up his career specifically at Holmes' request.
One thing that makes the "Watson lives for free at Holmes' place, eats out at Holmes' expense etc but doesn't get paid in cash" scenario seem more likely to me is the fact that Holmes felt the need to give Watson a bunch of money sneakily through buying his practice -- it makes me think he felt like he couldn't pay him in a more straightforward, above-board way -- that Watson would be offended by it or whatever.
On the other hand I was also reading some stuff on the wiki about the concept of the "lady's companion", where a usually single upper-class woman would invite a single female friend to live with her and pay her an "allowance" in exchange for social companionship. The companion was technically an employee but was treated more like a member of the family. Now, there are reasons why this arrangement was specific to women: a) there were very few ways for an upper-class woman to actually earn a living that wouldn't compromise her upper-class status; and b) upper-class women were expected to stay at home most of the time, so a woman living alone (especially in the country) could easily become lonely. But it does show that there was at least some kind of concept in this historical era of "living with a wealthy friend and being financially supported by them as if you were family" without it being Weird. So yeah IDK.
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puppy-steve · 1 day
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strawberry wine
real life has got me feeling stressed and uncertain so, naturally, i started thinking about a previous fic, which can also be read here
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The kitchen’s dark, save for the light above the sink. Steve is elbow deep in soapy dish water when the radio on the china hutch behind him clicks on, a soft country ballad trickling into the quiet space. Arms wrap around his waist and Steve huffs a laugh as he reaches for the dish rag to dry his hands.
He turns in Eddie’s arms and is met with an expression that’s so open and full of love. It still catches Steve off guard sometimes, still not used to being loved by someone who proudly shows all of his emotions on his sleeve.
Eddie takes Steve’s hand in his as they sway in the dim light. Steve buries his face in Eddie’s shoulder and closes his eyes, letting him take the lead.
I still remember
When thirty was old
My biggest fear was September
When he had to go
The lyrics are like an arrow in Steve’s stomach. He grips Eddie’s shoulder tighter and presses closer to him as they continue to sway in the slow circle. Eddie just rubs a soothing hand up and down his back.
A few cards and letters
And one long distance call
We drifted away
Like the leaves in the fall
Doesn’t mention the tears seeping through his shirt or the way Steve’s shoulders wrack with silent sobs. Eddie presses a kiss above his hair and holds him tighter while he croons softly.
Strawberry wine and seventeen
The hot July moon, saw everything
My first taste of love
Whoa, bittersweet
“I don’t want you to go,” Steve admits against his shoulder, feeling a bit like a child throwing a tantrum. He thinks he’s allowed to be a little selfish when it feels like his whole world is being ripped away from him.
Robin’s transferring her community college credits to a state school after her gap year ends and the kids are a month away from graduation and starting their own college journeys.
Corroded Coffin’s been noticed. Their gigs at The Hideout have been growing ever since Eddie’s name was cleared and the murder charges were dropped and there was an actual scout at their last one. Talked to the band and showed them a pretty picture of fame and fortune.
And a way out of this cursed town.
And Steve? Steve has no idea where he’s headed in life. He gave college a try three separate times after Vecna and dropped out each time after a semester. Too stupid to understand what his professors were talking about and unable to keep up with the workload while also working full time.
What good is he if the world isn’t ending? If he isn’t being the protector, the body they need when shit goes sideways (it always goes sideways.) His parents were at least kind enough to pay off the mortgage and cover the utilities for at least a year before they fucked off to God knows where, but once that’s up? Family Video only pays so much and he’s definitely not being paid to drive the brats around every weekend.
“I know,” Eddie says, because they’ve already talked about it. The band’s been invited up to Chicago to meet with label executives next month to let them hear some samples of their music, and that means the possibility of signing a contract and finally getting their big break.
Steve is so, so proud of him.
He’s also so, so lost.
They’ve stopped dancing. Eddie is still running his fingertips along his spine comfortingly. Steve sniffs and pulls back just enough to look at him. His boyfriend has opted for a flannel over a band t-shirt today. Steve fiddles with the collar and doesn’t meet Eddie’s concerned eyes.
“But you have to go.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. “I can’t hold you back from something you’ve waited your whole life for.” He gives Eddie a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Corroded Coffin is your baby.”
Eddie cups his face and frowns. “You’ll always come first, you know that, right? Even if I’m on the other side of the world, as soon as you say the word, I’ll come right back to you.”
Steve does know that, and it scares the absolute shit out of him. Being loved so completely and unconditionally. It’s been almost three years and he’s is ashamed to admit he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Eddie to wake up and realize he could do so much better than a washed-up has-been who peaked in high school.
For him to realize that Steve Harrington isn’t actually a good dude after all.
But he wants this thing with Eddie to last longer than three years. He wants forever with him and he can only hope that Eddie wants the same. So he swallows down his insecurities and self doubt and leans into Eddie’s space, pressing their noses together and taking the lead of the dance this time.
“I promise not to call too often, then.”
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taglist (mutuals lmk if you want to be added!): @yournowheregirl @steves-strapcollection @thefreakandthehair @stobinesque @vecnuthy
@tboygareth @flowercrowngods @starryeyedjanai @matchingbatbites @corrodedbisexual
@theheadlessphilosopher @patchworkgargoyle @sentient-trash @wormdebut @legitcookie
@corrodedcoughin @steddieas-shegoes @wynnyfryd @sidekick-hero @simplebtromance
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cheriladycl01 · 3 days
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The Rookie Prodigy - Carlos Sainz x Driver! Reader Part 6
Plot: You are a rookie coming into the 2022 season of Formula One into Alfa Romeo with team member Zhou Guanyu, being in a mid tier team can you help them rise up the ranks. What pressures occur for the only rookies within the 2022 line up!
Credit to macrazylive for the GIF
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'Where is Y/N Y/L/N' was the talk of the paddock on the coastline of Miami after you missed media day on Thursday. Zhou was there alone trying his best to make funny content but clearly the lack of you there was affecting him.
The presenters for Sky Sports also could tell there was a lack of you in the paddock. Obviously it was still loud thanks to Lando and those kinds of energies.
But where it was media day people didn't think too much of it, maybe you slept in and was too embarrassed to rock up late, or maybe you missed your Wednesday flight ... or maybe you'd been asked by your PR team not to show up because of everything with you and Lewis in the media right now.
There was a lot of noise around Lewis and you. A lot of it wasn't kind either, the worst being that people assumed you slept your way into your seat as the only woman in F1. This started a spiral of hate towards you, people had somehow doxed you and death threats had been sent to your home and you couldn't even log into your socials because it was so bad.
When you didn't arrive for the first free practice that's when more attention was brought to your absence.
"Have you guys seen Y/N?" Carlos asks the little group he was stood with, concerned he hadn't seen you.
"No, she wasn't here yesterday for media day and she didn't come out in FP1, her side of the garage was actually so slow and empty. Their main focus was on getting Zhou out!" Lando admitted having seen with his own eyes what your absence had done to the team.
"As a rookie it's risky missing free practice, maybe they'll announce a replacement for her tonight?" Charles offers sipping on his drink that he'd taken with him from their hospitality.
"I can't believe it, I wonder what's going on!" Daniel nods, wondering why the paddock princess wasn't here.
Things got stranger when you also didn't turn up for FP2 on the same day.
You also weren't there the next morning and everyone was thinking Alpha Romeo were going to have their first DNS of the season where you still weren't around.
It was around 20 minutes until qualifying was supposed to start when someone noticed your paddock pass had been scanned in. They sent someone from the FIA to search and see if it was a mistake or if you had in fact come in.
By the time someone reached the garage to ask you were already in your car waiting to come out for qualifying. You were nervous as hell, you'd missed out on all the free practices and never driven the Miami circuit.
You drove out and ended Q3 in P14, one away from the cut off and it was on a lap where you'd only just managed to get passed the flag in time to get that vital last lap in. Zhou despite having been around the whole weekend and participating in all the free practice sessions didn't have as great a run as you coming P17 and being eliminated for Q2.
Come Q2 and the commentators were in shock with how quickly you were coming to grips with the track. You were only a few tenths of a second off Lando's time coming in P6, a drastic change from your previous result.
You stayed sat in the car in Q3, everyone in the garage knew you didn't really want to talk right now. So it was only you engineer talking to you every now and then telling you stats and times.
Q3 again was pretty good and you were managing to start P5. And considering the week you've had you felt really good about that result.
The rest of the weekend just had awkward vibes, you could tell in your post race interviews how much you didn't want to be there.
"Y/N, it's great to see you back around here and what a great result for you despite being absent for all your free practice sessions!" the interviewer says and you just nod, it wasn't a question. It was a statement so you didn't have to answer.
"How do you feel about that result?" they ask.
"Yeah, good. I think I got as much as I could out the car as I could!" you reply and the interviewer sighs knowing this would be a hard interviewer seeing as this was the first time they were experiencing icy and cold Y/N.
You ended up the interviews quickly, your PR apologizing to the last few saying you wouldn't be doing any more of them.
You went back to the hotel exhausted, just wanting to sleep and get this weekend over.
Twitter was going crazy over how you had been acting in your interviews, your fans specifically were really concerned and of course because it was brought up online all the other drivers saw their reactions and had to go look for themselves.
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The ones who hadn't really interacted with you just put it down to an off day, which did happen with drivers particularly rookies who were being too hard on themselves which wasn't uncommon in the newbies.
But for those who did know you and had made the effort to welcome you to the sport, like Zhou, like Carlos, like Lewis, like Charles and Lando and George and Alex ...
They all could tell something was seriously wrong, but it seemed impossible for anyone to get hold of you.
Even the next day on race day, you showed up in the paddock for the national anthem of America, and were ushered straight to your car by your PR team, all the other drivers sharing a look of confusion.
You looked so exhausted and worn out, but they didn't know why.
The race wasnt good, as well as being tired from a severe lack of sleep, there was also your mental state affecting your drive. So you went from P5 down to P7, still in the points but it just didn't really feel ... good enough and you went back to the hotel disappointed.
Your PR team had refused you do any media after the shit show you caused with your bluntness yesterday and thoughts it's best to send you on your way to Switzerland to sort everything out that had been happening and get ready for Spain.
"Charles, she wont answer me..." Carlos had complained to Charles worried about the young driver.
"I don't know Carlos, we're all routing for her and hoping she's okay but maybe she just needs some time alone because of all the pressure. She the first in years to be here, as a woman you know... i cant imagine the pressure she's been feeling" Charles explains with a sigh.
"Mmmmm Toto have you heard anything about Y/N... she's well I don't think she's okay!" Lewis asked his boss in the Mercedes garage.
"Mmmm nothing, but i'll reach into my contacts. I knew her since she was 13 because she was the frist female Mercedes Development Driver/ Young Driver we sponsored. It's a shame really she isn't driving for one of our teams" Toto sighs, knowing Lewis wanted answers starting to tap away on his phone.
You knew these people cared about you, but right now... what you were dealing with and experiencing, you didn't want to drag any of them into.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v
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porcelainseashore · 2 days
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Into the Ether (3)
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(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, ...)
Pairing: Vampire! Toreador! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader
Summary: At the all-night events cafe you run, you’ve become acquainted with an elusive patron, Leon, though you can never remember the last moments of your interactions together. After a harrowing encounter, a love-hate relationship develops between the two of you as you grapple with your newfound status in a world of darkness and investigate the reasons behind the untimely attacks.
Content & Warnings: 18+ Resident Evil x Vampire: The Masquerade crossover, horror, mystery, romance, slow burn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, swearing, smoking, non consensual blood drinking, blood bond, vampire turning, violence, injury, mild gore, torture, minor character death, RE characters (Chris, Claire, Ada, Wesker, Jill, Sherry, Hunnigan, Rebecca, Baker Family, Merchant, Patrick), VtM concepts (Camarilla, Anarch, Sabbat, Second Inquisition, Toreador, Ventrue, Brujah, Gangrel, Nosferatu, Malkavian, Tremere, Ghouls).
Authors' Note: Suggestive themes, violence and mild gore ahead.
Taglist: @admirxation @xoxostarlet @miss-oranje-disco-dancer ❤️‍🔥
AO3 Link
Chapter 3: Fires of Rebellion
“So, talk,” you demanded, crossing your arms as you kept yourself at a suitable distance from Leon. 
Both of you were currently walking up north along Good Street towards the City College. The plan had been to take a left at some point and head over to the park by Warren Street, where hopefully there would be some benches for you to relax on. It was still early enough in the night for your surroundings to be relatively bustling with people, so you weren’t too worried that the man beside you would try anything risky or stupid. In any case, you knew where you kept your pepper spray at hand if things went south.
“You’d already sensed it from the beginning,” he stated, swallowing thickly. How was it this hard to tell you who he really was? If he could sweat blood, he’d fill a whole bucket’s worth. Pig’s blood. A cop in pig’s blood. He knew plenty of people who’d pay to see him drenched in the vermillion fluid. “That I’m not exactly normal.” That was what he settled with.
“What, you mean like a serial killer or something?” you scoffed, shaking your head in mild vexation.
“No.” His voice was solemn but firm as he glanced at you briefly, making eye contact. “I didn’t… assault you, not in the way you think.” He pressed his lips together into a thin line. “I just- I do things… that aren’t exactly normal.”
Great, Leon. You just made yourself sound like a fucking magician. Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers and paused his footsteps. “This is going well.”
You almost felt sorry for the guy. He seemed to be having such a difficult time articulating what he wanted to say. Was it some sort of kink he was talking about? The logical part of your mind berated you, insisting that this could go down far worse than you imagined, but you pushed it aside.
“Like what?” you asked, your morbid curiosity getting the better of you.
His jaw tightened as he shifted his weight uncomfortably from side to side.
Before he could respond, you took the initiative, positioning yourself in front of him as a form of challenge. “Show me,” you requested.
His head darted in every direction, scanning the area with an animalistic instinctiveness and you thought you saw his eyes illuminate in a different color. However, when you blinked a second later, it had returned to its original pale shade of blue. “Too many people,” he muttered. “I’ll do as you ask, but we need to head somewhere quieter.”
You should’ve ran off after he said that, but your legs stayed rooted to the ground. Your lack of self-preservation was alarming. “The park, then?” you suggested.
He nodded in compromise. “I could work with that.”
The rest of the walk there took place in awkward silence, as you dwelled on what he would do and whether you were walking into one big, fat trap. Well, at least Patrick had his business card. And PIs, they had a registered license, didn’t they? It was too late to back out now, you’d gone this far and you wanted to see it through.
When you had found a secluded bench at one of the shaded corners of the park, he spoke up again. “Do you remember the first night we met? When-”
“You offered me cigarettes in exchange for coffee,” you finished the sentence for him.
“Yes,” he said with a wistful smile, as if reminiscing about a day he’d cherished but had long since passed. “You felt it, didn’t you? Compelled to stay, but with no reason why.”
Despite your reluctance, you had to agree with him. That moment between standing by his table and sitting with him to share in a smoke had been like entering the twilight zone. You were you, but yet, at the same time, weren’t.
“I can do it again here, if you want,” he murmured, his eyes burning with an intensity that seemed to bore right into you.
It wasn’t the first time you had leaped before looking. You’d always been known to be a little more reckless than your peers, but it seemed like you never really learnt your lesson well. “Be my guest,” you gestured melodramatically, as your hand swept across in one grand motion.
“Now, you’re just mocking me,” he chided, though a ghost of a smile still lingered on his lips.
This time, there was a tingling sensation in your body, like an invisible warm light gradually enveloping you, except it seemed to exude from him. You were entranced by his stature, the minute details of his face, everything about what he was, to the point where you couldn’t tear yourself away from his gaze.
“Sit,” he directed gently, placing his hand along the back of the wooden bench.
You felt nothing but desire. Desire to do anything he wanted you to. Without a word, you sank onto the bench like a doll, still giving him that doe-eyed expression one would normally reserve for a celebrity they were starstruck by.
Taking his seat beside you, he urged, “Come closer.”
Obediently, you shuffled up along the bench towards him, except it wasn’t out of fear of punishment, but a strange, radiant love that emanated from within you. When you were just inches away from his face, he slowly revealed the tips of his canine teeth, which were pointier than usual, and seemed to grow with each passing minute. As his features eased up, you could feel the uncanny warmth dissipate from your core, and though you were still captivated by him, his face seemed to lack the same lustrous sheen it held moments ago. Like a wandering spirit, you had arrived back into your own body. You were you again.
His eyes latched onto you, waiting, watching, biding his time, to see what you would do. Though he remained poised and composed, the unsteadiness of his breathing and the flicker of trepidation across his irises gave him away. He was afraid that you would leave him, for good. And after what he had given to have the right to Embrace you, he wouldn’t know how he would live with himself if he were rejected.
It felt like hours had gone by until one of you spoke up. “Do you hate what you see?”
“No,” you answered, almost too quickly, cupping his cold cheek in the palm of your hand. He closed his eyes and sighed blissfully into it, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. It felt moist and heated against your skin.
You surprised yourself with how well you were taking all of this in. This shouldn’t have been possible and nothing about what he had shown you made sense. You blamed your tolerance on the late, sleepless nights and hanging around with the offbeat characters who frequented your cafe. 
What if monsters did exist? you humored. Maybe not in the literal sense of vampires, but someone who relished the flavor of blood, and who’d learnt a few tricks of hypnotism. You tried to rationalize it as much as you could, but there were still so many missing pieces you did not fully understand.
“How many times?” you asked. “Did you force me… each night?”
He lowered his gaze, marred by shame, while looking to his hands nestled in his lap. “It was just that once,” he whispered. “I wanted you to stay with me.” 
He pursed his lips. “The rest, later on… was you.”
“Did you-”
“Yes.” 
You didn’t even need to continue your sentence for him to know what you meant. Yes, he tasted your blood. Yes, he enjoyed it. Yes, he came back for more. And more.
“I’m sorry,” his voice cracked.
You didn’t acknowledge his apology, allowing even more time to slip through your fingers. A while later, you ran them along his cheek towards his lips, where his teeth which now looked more like fangs lurked. Right, how would you explain that away?
He didn’t stop you when you traced one of their edges, as if trying to figure out if they were real. He let you press the tip of your finger against its peak, purposely pricking yourself in some kind of deluded masochistic fantasy. The rush you felt from it was indescribable, like a spike of venom flowing into your veins, though it wasn’t as intense as the previous times to truly immobilize you. Grasping onto the back of the bench, you steadied yourself from the dizzying sensation.
A dark, ruby bead blossomed at the site of the puncture. His mouth lay open as he inhaled sharply, gripping the trousers on his thighs, and there was a wild look in his bloodshot eyes. However, he remained motionless, restraining himself somehow, as if awaiting your instruction.
“You like this?” A mixture of bewilderment and arousal seeped into your tone, as you brought your bleeding finger to rest just at the entrance of his mouth.
All at once, his veneer of calmness shattered. He swirled his tongue against your fingertip, causing you to gasp as it made hot laps around the miniscule droplet of blood you had to offer him. Dipping his head, he took the rest of your digit into his mouth, eventually sucking on it whole as he emitted a low groan in pleasure. When he finally let it go, a slick string of saliva connected to it from his lips, wet and hungry with need.
“I, um-” you shuddered, at a loss for words, as you retracted your finger, folding it into your hand.
Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he straightened up in his seat, adjusting his attire and hair, as if he had come back to his senses once again. “You don’t have to decide on this right now,” he assured you.
“Okay.” You nodded shakily, your mind spinning from all the events that had just transpired. “Could we take another short walk before I head home?” 
It would probably help to cool off a little, you thought.
“Anything you need,” he asserted, getting up as he took another glance around the park, before extending his hand to you.
You stared at it, contemplating further. “Just don’t-” you hesitated, pausing to rephrase your words. “I want to trust you, Leon.”
“I’ll earn it back,” he promised. “However long it takes.”
That was all you needed to hear from him. Perhaps you were naive to a fault, but you took his hand anyway, allowing him to lead you out of the park, and to whatever else fate had in store for you that night.
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Over the course of the evening, a thin fog had developed, shrouding the sky and enveloping the moon and stars in a blurry veil, casting a muted light over the city. You and Leon had taken a short detour towards the more touristy part of town, where the landmark Saint Michael Clock Tower overlooked the grand waterway.
The ornate, Gothic structure loomed intimidatingly ahead, its roof cloaked in a wispy gray mist, though you could still make out the time on its huge clock face. Ten minutes past midnight. It was getting late, and although you were accustomed to working until the wee hours of the morning, you preferred to get some sleep on your nights off when possible. However, right now, a part of you wished that the night would last longer. 
There wasn’t such a wide distance between you and Leon as before. In fact, your fingers were nearly touching, but neither of you had taken it further to close the final gap. Even in complete silence, punctuated only by the sounds of the city’s buzzing nightlife, both of you had somehow agreed on which pathways to take, falling in sync with each other’s footsteps, pauses and turns, like an unspoken dance. It was nice like this, having no expectations of the other person, just walking and feeling the thread of connection that bound the two of you.
Every now and then, he peered at you inquisitively, and you wondered if he had something to say, but when you looked his way, he turned his gaze back to the street in front of him. Coming to the entrance of a tunnel arbor near the clocktower, you paused to admire the sight of the vines and flowers that were wound around the metallic arches, interspersed with marigold fairy lights. There were still a decent number of stragglers in the vicinity. Probably the remaining tourists for the day who didn’t quite want to wrap up yet, some of whom were posing for pictures near the picaresque arbors.
“Cat caught your tongue?” Always the instigator and taking the confrontational approach. That was what you were known for.
“Hm?” he deflected, yet smiled at you knowingly.
“Just looked like you had something to say.” You shrugged, placing your hands on your hips.
“Nothing escapes you, huh?”
He was teasing you again; you were certain of it. Though this appeared to be twofold, where the second part was meant as a misdirection to hide a secret from you. 
“It should be obvious that I like you,” he stated plainly.
Obvious to the point where he couldn’t afford to have one of those obnoxious Anarchs stake their claim over you, just for a bit of territory. You were worth so much more to him than that. Surely, it would be the lesser of two evils for him to be the one to Embrace you? It was all he could think about when he made that deal with Ada. Always justifying and compromising. That was what he was known for.
You couldn't fathom the sheer astonishment and joy that overcame him when Ada returned with the news a few weeks later:
“The Prince granted your wish,” she mentioned with an indifferent wave of her hand.
“How?” he choked in disbelief. “It usually takes years!”
“You underestimate me,” she scoffed. “Have you forgotten that I’m the voice of society?”
“No, of course not.” He hung his head in disgrace, as if he had just been told off by a parent.
“Anyway, I don’t have to tell you twice that you should thank him in person.” 
Lifting a bejeweled chalice to her lips, she tasted its contents, allowing it to linger on the palate before letting it wash down her throat. “And by ‘thank’, I mean ‘grovel’.”
“Yes, sire.” He bent down on his knee and kissed the back of her hand in respect.
A shadow of annoyance flickered across her face, morphing into a frown. “You do know this makes you look weak?” she questioned rhetorically. “Being unable to convince the Prince yourself?”
He knew better than to respond when Ada was in such a mood.
“Don’t embarrass me.” 
Her warning rang loud and clear in his ears.
“Who is it obvious to?” you challenged, pulling him out of his reverie. Maybe you had an undeniable urge to see him lose control over you again.
At this, he drew closer towards you, his eyes ablaze like a blue flame, as he snaked his arms around your waist. That was it - the thrill, the feeling you missed. It rippled through your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake. But before he could go any further, a sudden force tore him from his hold on you, hauling him violently backwards. He was flung in the air across a couple of yards, landing against the wall of a building with a sickening crack.
In the background, you heard screams coming from all directions, alongside whooshing sounds, followed by loud thuds. One soon popped up behind you and in an instant you found yourself smacked to the ground. There was a shrill ringing in your ears, your eyes watered, and your vision blurred as you started seeing double in front of you. You felt the back of your head. Wet. Sticky. Flowing. Your fingers were red and the concussion you suffered induced a dizzying spell.
A grizzly face appeared before you, but you couldn’t quite make out any distinguishable features, except for the familiar shape of long fangs that glistened under the arbor lights. There was no time to put up a fight or even cry out for help, as you began to sink deeper and deeper into unconsciousness.
Leon had watched the entire scene unfurl before him like a twisted snuff film coming to life. The attack had taken him by surprise, but he quickly got up from his fall, resetting his bones and shaking it off like nothing had happened. The whole place was awash in scarlet. Blood streaked the city streets, trickling into every gap and crack, as the victims were messily drained of their lifesource. Whoever was behind this wanted the world to know. And that was when he witnessed the first of them turn.
A Mass Embrace? These Kindred definitely reeked of the Sabbat, and if not, they weren’t anyone who had been presented before the Prince; he would know. There wasn’t a second left to spare - he had to find you immediately. In his line of sight, he saw one of the culprits feeding on you greedily, and the primal rage he felt within him almost caused his Beast to take over. He hunched over and growled ferociously. His features transformed into something monstrous and his eyes were crazed as globs of saliva dribbled down his mouth.
It was fanning the flames of a Frenzy, one where he would slaughter every being in his path regardless of who they were, tearing them from limb to limb, and eviscerating their carcasses for what they had done to you. But his concern for your well-being won him over. Mustering up his willpower, he resisted the Beast as much as he could, and though he was still enraged, he needed to think straight and prioritize getting you to safety. That was all that mattered.
In the bat of an eye, he zipped across, yanking the other vampire away from your limp body, as they traded rapid blows. Another aggressor joined in the fight, as Leon dodged their swift counterattacks with deceptive ease, before connecting his right fist to one of their jaws and dealing a precise uppercut with his left to the other’s ribs, catching both of them off-guard. 
Everything seemed to pass by in quicktime as he moved with an unnatural grace, spinning mid-air over one of their backs, only to grab the other from behind and slam him to the ground savagely. Gathering the rest of his strength, he took advantage of the momentum to stomp on the vampire’s head with the heel of his shoe. There was a nauseating crunch as his skull caved in from the blunt force trauma, splintering and sending blood splashing across the pavement, driving him straight into torpor. One down, one more to go.
The brutality of the violence he had displayed unnerved him, yet fuelled his excitement as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He attributed it to being partially influenced by the Beast the moment those bastards had put your life in danger. At least he had not fully succumbed to it. That was what he tried to tell himself while putting a lid on his unquenchable thirst for more. More violence. More bloodshed. They deserve it…
A cacophony of ghastly howls erupted from a distance, bringing him back to reality. Jill, it had to be, Leon realized. The Sheriff was coming to subdue this severe breach of the Masquerade. As the other vampire lunged at him, Leon’s reflexes took over, timing it such that he skirted the edge of the assault unscathed. Instead, he circled around, placing the attacker in an unyielding headlock. The vampire struggled vigorously, attempting to kick and claw his way out of Leon’s grip.
It was then that he heard Jill’s gruff yells in the vicinity, as the pack of dogs under her control barked and gnashed their teeth viciously at the remaining offenders, clamping down on their legs to prevent them from escaping. The Hound, a group of Kindred who reported to her, had arrived in tow, twirling wooden shafts in their hands, each sharpened at one end. Grinning menacingly, they struck at the assailants, staking them immobile before dragging them away.
“You need this one?” Leon called out. He might as well play by their rules where he got the chance, even if the Prince himself had decreed a perpetual Blood Hunt on the Sabbat. Anything to be in the former’s good graces. It was all for show, anyway.
Jill turned sharply, her mouth contorting into a wicked smirk, as she stalked towards him. “Leon… always at the right place, right time, huh?” Her voice was more akin to brutish snarl, but he knew when she meant her threats and when she didn’t. At this point, she was on his side.
“We have our hands full of the rebellious trash.” She jerked her thumb back to her crew, who were skulking around in the dark with their catch. “Kill this motherfucker.”
Without hesitation, Leon snapped the vampire’s neck clean, ripping his head off in the process as his lifeless body fell to the ground in a heap. Letting out a huff from the effort, he tossed the head aside, feeling nothing for the wretched being that lay at his feet. Or did he? He chose not to dwell on it any further, finding something else to distract himself with as he glanced down at his clothes, frowning when he noticed they were smeared with all sorts of fluids and innards. Dry cleaning was gonna be a bitch.
Jill signaled towards your body with her chin. “This one’s barely alive.”
“She’s mine.” A deep-seated possessiveness surged through him as he stepped between you and Jill, unwilling to let you be snatched away from his grasp again. Swooping down, he lifted you into his arms, ready to cart you off from this gruesome site. “Please, I don’t have much time.”
Narrowing her eyes, she tilted her head and a low rumble reverberated from her chest. “Alright, pretty boy. You’re answerable to the Prince though,” she warned.
“Understood,” he replied snippily, cringing at the nickname she often used to wind him up.
Directing her attention once again to her Hound, she commanded, “Torch the rest!”
The poor, newly created vampires never stood a chance, dealing with both the life-changing alterations to their bodies and the molotov cocktails now lobbed at them. They had no idea what was happening as they were set aflame in the towering bonfire, screeching and wailing until they were reduced to nothing but ashes. The smell of singed skin and flesh hung in the air.
Tightening his grip on you, Leon recoiled involuntarily in fear as he fled from the raging inferno. “Hang in there for me,” he whispered, praying to a long-forgotten god that he wouldn’t be too late this time. 
Racing like his life depended on it, he kept to the shadows, using the cover of darkness to navigate through the maze of Raccoon City towards his haven.
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sixx-sixx-sixx · 10 hours
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THE TRADER’S DAUGHTER — cooper “the ghoul” howard x female!oc
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warnings(?): dbf!cooper, female!oc, oc is described as brown eyed (but feel free to picture whatever you want), proofread to the best of my ability (correcting capitalization is not my priority on my phone, this is hard enough to format as is), this series will have smut at some point but let me work up to writing that (meaning, let me smoke this joint and see where the wind takes me), there’s allusion to smut in this towards the end but it’s nothing wild
(this is part one of some)
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Daisy hadn’t seen Cooper for a very, very long time. She’d never forgotten the charismatic cowboy that told her stories of the old world and of his encounters with creatures in the wasteland. The ghoul that would bring her little trinkets from his travels, gifting her a pearl necklace for her 10th birthday. A single pearl on a dainty silver chain that she would wear every day until it wore out. She was 13 when that happened, and was utterly devastated. Thankfully, she had charmed a local boy for a new chain, sneaking behind her dad’s back to go on a few dates with the kid. She’s continue to flirt with men and make empty promises to them to replace the chain each time it broke.
Cooper had gotten himself into some thick shit, spending a good time locked up by some raiders and other bullshit that got him sidetracked. On the other side of the goddamn wasteland, on the fucking east coast. How did he even get to the fucking east coast? By the time he made it back to the trading post, over a decade had passed, and it showed in the size of the once-familiar settlement. More gambling, more fighting in the streets, whole lotta bad shit that he didn’t have time to get involved with. He made his way through the town, his gaze trained on the old trading post at the center of town. He took careful notice of how men sneered at him as he passed by them, mumbling some racist bullshit about his ghoulishness.
Fuck them, he thought as he stepped up to the door of the trading post. He opened the door to hear the old bell jingle to alert his presence, watching as a young woman walked out from the back room with a routine “Welcome to Jo’s Shack, what can I get you?” leaving her pretty pink lips.
Daisy was almost in shock, seeing the ghoul standing in her doorway. She had assumed the worst over the years, as his visits had become less and less until they were not at all. She figured he was dead, shriveled up and baking in the sun. Or worse, she worried he had gone feral, which was always going to be inevitable in his case. Either way, she would keep extra chems stocked for the day he returned.
Cooper strolled towards the counter and looked at the girl, recognizing those big brown eyes from a mile away. “Hey, little flower. Your daddy around?” He asked her, his eyes flickering down to look at the pearl around her neck. Huh, he didn’t know she’d have kept it all those years. Pretty things were hard to keep around these parts.
Daisy’s face broke out into a grin and she gave him a little nod, leaning forward to get a good look at him. “Sure is, I’ll go get him for you. he’s not gonna believe this.” She had to fight to maintain her composure and keep her excitement at bay, going through the back room and up the stairs to the second floor of the shack to where her father was sleeping. In the ghoul’s absence, Daisy had grown to be a respectable trader, taking over the face of her father’s shop after growing up learning from the best. Although the population was tougher, she was just as tough, and nobody dared to fuck with Jo’s Shack or the woman running the place.
She stepped back out to the main room and leaned against the newly-reinforced counter, a bright smile on her face as she gazed up at him. He was just as handsome as she remembered, though she was never truly able to capture how his eyes lit up at the sight of her.
“Flower, you are just as pretty as a peach.” Cooper flashed her a wide grin, unashamedly flirting with the girl who he had essentially watched grow up. And whew, did she grow up good. He couldn’t help himself as he let his sunken eyes roam over the smooth, exposed skin of her chest, the tank top she wore under her unzipped jacket left little to the imagination.
Daisy thought his southern drawl was absolutely intoxicating as she slid a little box of chem vials across the counter to him, “Thank you, Coop. Don’t tell dad I gave these to you.” She winked and leaned back as her dad came out to greet his old friend, letting the two men greet each other like they hadn’t spent any time apart.
“Cooper Howard, you son of a bitch! I hope you brought me that Brahmin you still owe me.” Josiah grinned as he pulled the ghoul in for a hug, giving him shit over some long-forgotten wager on a card game. Coop patted him on the back with a shit-eating grin, “Yessir, why, yo’ momma’s waitin’ outside!”
Daisy watched Cooper closely as she stood beside her dad, taking in the way his skin had started to redden in places she didn’t remember being scarred over before. She had spent her whole adolescence infatuated with him, playing it off as a silly little girl crush on a big strong man (who had killed for her, but that’s a story for another day.) Her pulse quickened as she overhead her father invite the ghoul inside for a drink and to rest, watching him come around the counter to push through the curtains leading to the back.
It was fucked up, Cooper knew that. He knew it was fucked up to already be thinking about the woman behind him. Thinking about how sweet she sounded when she said his name, thinking about that little pearl necklace dangling in his face as she skillfully sat atop his—
He really needed that drink, and maybe a puff of his inhaler before he went feral at the thought of something as soft and pretty as his Daisy having anything to do with something as scarred and distorted as him.
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a/n: okay yall what do we think about part one? I got to the app to post it and immediately rewrote the ending because I hated the original, so I hope this was good!
taglist: @savanahc @one-of-thewalkingdead @silverose365 @neverendingdumptser
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Badge Bunny Part V
Masterlist Here!
Summary: It all comes to a head with Roy. Will Gator let the sins off his past dictate his future or will he be the better man that he knows you deserve?
18+ Only! Minors DNI!
CW: Reader is referred to as "Bunny" or "Bun". Minimal use of Y/N. Canon type violence. Gun use. Gator is wounded - no graphic detail. Mild angst. Smut! Unprotected P in V. Creampie.
WC: 8.7K
“Something's going down at the ranch. I think Roy's finally lost his goddamn mind. Feds are headed over there.” Andy rushed out, breathless as if he'd run all the way here, face a little bloodied and bruised. He was still in uniform, though it was dirty and disheveled, sans his duty belt.
“Gator?” You asked, already knowing the answer.
He nodded, gaze falling to the floor.
“He's been there all morning.”
“What's going on? And don't lie to me Andy.” Pushing your finger roughly into his chest.
“I want the full story. Not some half-truth bullshit.” Tired of sitting in the dark, you needed some answers.
You took him to the back so you could talk in private without the whole bar hearing about the sorted affair. They would all know soon enough. Small town gossip spreads like wildfire, especially if it involves the Tillman family in any way.
Roy had the entire ranch on lockdown. He'd somehow gotten wind of a traitor in his midst that was feeding information to the FBI.
Andy was an immediate suspect. After the entire incident with your kidnapping and sending those blood samples off despite Roy telling him not to, it had earned him a spot at the top of the man's shit list.
“They had me tied up in one of the sheds. If it weren't for Gator, I…” he swallowed thickly, as if he were reliving it all once again. “I don't know what Roy would have done. He showed me some tunnel on the back of the property. Helped me escape. I flagged down a car once I made it to the main road and had them bring me here.”
“Oh my God, Andy! Why didn't he come with you? What the fuck is he doing?” You groaned, swearing then and there if he made it out of this shit alive you were going to kill him.
“He told me to place a call to the feds and made me promise to make sure you stayed put. There's nothing else we can do.”
You stopped pacing back and forth looking at him with a dumbstruck expression.
“What? So, you are working with them?” Trying to wrap your head around everything that he was trying to tell you.
“No, Y/N. Gator is!”
Not even Roy could have seen it coming. Everyone pegged Gator as the Sheriff's idiot son. A fuck up so blinded by getting his father's approval that no one thought for a second he could have been the informant.
If Roy asked him to jump, he'd ask him how high but that all started to change a little over a year prior.
There was only one thing that would make him flip on the old man in a heartbeat.
You.
He'd asked you to trust him. Told you whatever happened it was for the best. Now you truly saw why. He was taking Roy down. It was his way out.
“Andy, how am I supposed to stay put when you know what Roy is capable of? If he even thinks for a second that it's Gator…” You trailed off. Taking a seat at the edge of Henry's desk to let the weight of it all sink in.
“I think he's got this. There's nothing else for Roy to do but surrender.” He tried to reassure you with a half-smile but you saw right through it.
You sighed, standing back up.
“Let me clean that cut up for you. It's the least I can do. You're a good friend to me and Gator.” You grabbed the first aid kit and went to work. It was deeper than you thought, probably needed a stitch or two but he was dead set on keeping the both of you here.
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After Gator helped Andy find the underground passage, he made his way back to the main house where he knew Roy would be waiting.
He took a deep breath before entering. Knowing his part, he has to play it cool just until the feds get there. He gave Andy strict instructions to let them know what they were going to be up against.
The kitchen was left in shambles. Roy told Karen and the girls to leave before they finished breakfast. At least he seemed to care enough to spare them from some of what he had planned that day.
From that point on it had been madness. He'd called in what was essentially his calvary. A lot of armed idiots that had no business holding a gun.
Somehow, he'd gotten word the FBI was coming to raid him. Gator was still unsure of where it actually came from, but he knew Roy had friends in high places.
He wandered down the small hall that led to the back of the house where Roy's office was, the door sitting ajar.
He didn't bother knocking, pushing it further open and taking a step forward. Roy's eyes shot up as soon as the door opened.
“Gator, what are you doing here? I told you to watch the goddamn shed with Bowman.” He hissed out.
“Yeah, uh… Andy and Bowman are both gone. Shed's empty.” His gaze fell to the floor briefly before looking back to Roy.
“Gone? Both of them?” His face flashing confusion.
“Yup. Suppose Bowman moved him? Ya’ give him the order to execute or somethin’?” He asked, trying to draw his suspicion.
“Fuck.” He gritted out between clenched teeth getting up and coming around his desk. “I didn't give any kind of order. Get your ass out there. Tell everyone to start looking for them.”
“Yeah, course.” Gator turned, making his way back down the hall and out to the porch telling the rest of the guys to start looking.
He was sure it had given Andy enough time to get to the highway. No one knew about that escape hatch except himself, Roy and the other being Bowman, who was currently unconscious and tied up in said escape tunnel.
He set about pretending to help look for the two missing men hearing the sirens in the distance, breathing a small sigh of relief. It would all be over soon.
As Roy stepped out onto the porch, pulling his hat down tight upon his head the caravan of black SUVs made their way down the highway stopping at the front gate.
He had the entrance blocked by his armed cohorts.
“Well, here we go.” He said, looking over to Gator with a sinister smirk.
“Dad,” he said, sounding more like a frightened boy than the man he was trying to be, as Roy turned back to look at him. “No one has to get hurt. Ya’ could just… just give yourself up.”
“Give myself up? You do realize you're going to prison too, right? It's not just me going down at the end of all this.” He fixed him with a glare before turning and mounting his mare. “Shut the hell up and find those two idiots.”
He nodded, biting his lip as he watched him mosey toward them, taking a leisurely pace as if he was unbothered by the entire scene. Roy seemed to see it as more of a nuisance than any kind of real threat.
He couldn't tell what was being said, so he made himself scarce trying to bide his time.
The feds already had a plan in motion. Gator told them about the hatch and tunnels that would lead them to the back of the property. It would be easy access and they could take everyone from behind while they were still occupied with the front gates. They knew once they had Roy the rest would give up without their so-called fearless leader.
Gator made his way to the back of the property, meeting about 10 men dressed in SWAT gear along with FBI Agent Joaquin.
“He's in his office, but ugh… y’guys mind if I have a word with him before ya’ barge in there?” He asked.
“I think we can spare a few minutes. I can give you head start but if bullets start flying, hit the deck.” He waved Gator off turning back toward his team ready to give their orders.
He made his way back to the house, hitting his vape trying to steel his nerves.
This time the door was shut, so he quickly rapped his knuckles against the smooth wood.
“Yeah?” Roy grunted, as Gator popped into view.
“Son, what the hell is it this time?” He was exasperated dealing with him for the day.
“I need to talk to you. Man to man.” He stated, coming to stand in front of his desk. Roy finally looked from the window to face him.
“Well, spit it out.” He hissed.
“The feds are on their way, already on the ranch. Thought it would be better to hear it from me.” Roy watched him intently but stayed silent letting him continue.
“If you had just left her alone.” He looked him dead in the eye as he spoke. “You tried to take away the one thing that matters most to me.”
Roy had gravely miscalculated just how much you'd meant to his son. He saw you as nothing more than a bump in the road assuming that Gator would eventually get bored of his new, shiny plaything.
He was losing that grip on him little by little thinking his only way to get it back was to get rid of you.
The kidnapping had gone according to plan, just like Roy intended, until it didn't. Those idiots he'd hired had gotten greedy. Threatened to let you go if they didn't get more money but before he could take matters into his own hands Gator had found you.
The FBI had reached out months prior, it was only after that stunt that he finally placed the call that set everything into motion.
“So, that's it then? Turn your own father in over what? Some fuckin' whore. I should have fuckin’ killed you a long time ago. You're nothing but a sniveling worm. I'm ashamed to even call you my son.” He was seeing red, reaching for his gun.
Gator grabbed his own, before Roy had the chance to flinch. His words had no effect on him. He'd all but given up hope of ever winning his father's affections and praise. He didn't care anymore. He had you.
“Don't.” He aimed right at Roy's chest, finger on the trigger. He never wanted it to end this way.
Shouting down the hall pulled Gator's attention for a split second, as his eyes drifted from their target giving Roy enough time to get his hand around his own pistol.
Two shots rang out as the swat team swarmed the house.
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“So, what should we do? How much longer do we just sit and wait?” You'd finally asked after thirty more agonizing minutes. You'd both made it back out to the bar, taking a booth in the corner.
Your knee was bouncing, unable to keep from chewing your nails and looking out the window every few seconds.
“He wants you to stay put. So, we'll stay put.” Taking another sip of his soda, watching you over the glass. “Don't even think about it.”
“What? I wasn't thinking about anything.” The way you glanced at your keys sitting next to you told him otherwise.
“Y/N.” He warned, with a glare.
“Fuck, fine.” You crossed your arms, continuing to look out the window with a huff. “I'm going to get a drink. You want a refill?” Asking as you got up.
You had your back toward the door when an SUV peeled into the parking lot. A woman with short, dark hair got out and made her way into the door.
“I'm looking for a Miss Y/L/N.” She announced, looking around the near desolate place as she removed her sunglasses.
You whipped around.
“Um, that's me.” Voice coming out meek. You knew she had to be FBI. You suddenly felt sick, preparing for the worst.
“I'm Agent Meyers. We need you to come with us please.” Her curt tone left no room for arguing as your eyes cut over to Andy. He got up and met you both.
“I'm Deputy Andy Tate. I'm the one that called you guys. You mind if I tag along?” He didn't want to let you out of his sight, even if they were supposed to be the good guys.
She looked him up and down before nodding.
“Sure, follow me.”
-
Agent Meyers wasn't much for small talk. She had explained you were needed but didn't go into detail. Apparently, it was a need-to-know basis, and you didn't need to know.
Your stomach was in knots as you watched the world pass by outside. Andy tried to soothe you, telling you it would all be okay, but every doubt was swirling within you.
As you pulled up to that familiar gate and picture-perfect farmhouse that was anything but, you saw they had people lined up and handcuffed on their knees against the fence.
They'd managed to round up and arrest everyone. As predicted, when they found out Roy was done, they all gave up without a fight.
There were two ambulances, one pulling off as you all pulled in the other parked directly in front of the house.
“Where is he?” You anxiously asked.
“He'll be over there.” You opened the door and shot out running before they had the chance to come to a stop.
“Hey!” Meyers yelled, but you didn't hesitate. You needed to see him. Needed to make sure he was okay, and your worst thoughts had not come to fruition; make it all tangible.
He finally came into view, sitting on a gurney at the back of the vehicle. His shirt was removed. They were bandaging up his shoulder as you shouted his name.
He turned, standing up as you slammed into his chest wrapping your arms around him as the tears began to flow.
He groaned with the impact, pain shooting through his shoulder and back, but he didn't care, wrapping his arm tight around you pulling you into him.
Roy had managed to shoot him in the left shoulder, while Gator's aim had been much more accurate. A shot straight into the gut. He'd been taken by the other ambulance for emergency surgery and then he'll be swept off straight to a federal prison halfway across the country.
“Gator… I …” You sniffed, looking up at him. “I thought…” Your hands roamed his chest, easing over his bandaged shoulder taking it all in. Cupping his cheeks, your thumb running under a slight bruise that was blooming under his eye.
He pressed your head back to his chest, kissing your temple.
“It's okay baby. I'm okay. We're okay.” His words soothing as they washed over you.
You just held each other for a few more minutes before someone cleared their throat from behind you.
“Sorry to break this little moment up but it's time to go.” Agent Meyers spoke.
Gator nodded, as you looked between the two of them.
“Bunny, look at me.” His eyes pierced yours as he spoke calmly.
“We’re going to be okay. But I have to go with them. There's a lot of shit I did, that I'm not proud of I still need to answer for.”
You knew what he meant. For all the good he did, there were still things he would have to pay for which still meant prison time.
“I'm proud of you.” You looked right into those soft, hazel eyes as you spoke. He looked so downtrodden, but you lifted his chin.
“I'm so proud of you baby!” You stood on the tips of your toes, smashing your lips to his. They were a little chapped but warm as you melted into him.
It suddenly crossed your mind this may be the last time you get to feel him for a while as his tongue grazes your bottom lip. Allowing him entry, you glide against one another so effortlessly it was easy to get lost in the moment.
You broke apart only to catch your breath. Whispered “I love yous” were spoken before he was handcuffed in front of you.
“Okay, Mr. Tillman.” Agent Meyers guided him to an SUV, sitting him in the back.
His eyes were filled with worry as they shut the door, mirroring your own. Andy sidled up beside you as they drove out of sight.
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5 Months Later
“You don't have to keep coming every week.” The way it came out let you know he was tired but so were you. Tired of him acting like you were just going to give up and leave him to rot in a prison cell.
Since he'd helped the feds, they had given him a nice plea deal with a reduced sentence of 18 months. With good behavior, he might be out in 12.
It was the best he could have hoped for with all the involvement in Roy's dealings, but Gator had given them enough to send him away for the rest of his life.
It was still going to be agonizing but you wanted to be there for him every step of the way.
“Yes, I do. Who else is going to bring you these nasty cookies you love?” You teased. Packing another overnight bag for your 8-hour trek.
“Y’gonna make me fat, if ya keep bringin’ those.” He chuckles on the other end. “But seriously, if the drives gettin' to be too much, ya’ don't have to.”
“I don't have anything else to do. I know that sounds pathetic but it's true. All I do is work, and then come home. The only thing that's getting to be too much is how quiet the house is. I miss you.” You said it earnestly, sighing into the phone sitting on the edge of the bed.
“I'm sorry Bunny, if there had been another way…” he trailed off, sighing on his end as well.
“No. Don't start that. I am so damn proud of you, Gator Tillman!”
Of course, it was all over the front pages, but they left out the part where he had been an informant. Everyone assumed the very worst about him, just like Roy. But he was your hero.
If only you could see the grin that split his face any time you told him that. The way his eyes lit up. He had sought Roy's approval for so long, it felt refreshing to hear that he'd done something right from the one person who truly loves him for him. All the fuck ups, all the short comings he saw in himself that you never judged him for. You loved him. You were proud of him.
“I love you, be safe. I'll see ya’ tomorrow.” He had his one-minute warning come through the line.
“Ok baby. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you more!”
“Not possible.” He grinned again, as the line clicked dead.
He'd been sent to FCI Sandstone, a low security facility in Minnesota. It was a little over 8 hours from Lehigh. Thankfully Roy was sent halfway across the country to a maximum security facility so neither of you would ever have to cross his path again.
In the few months that he's been away, it's been a struggle. You were left on your own again, but you could breathe a sigh of relief. The entire town felt like a weight had been lifted. No one was looking over their shoulder fearing they might be on the bad side of Roy Tillman.
Andy was appointed interim Sheriff, since half the department went down with the raid. Andy and just a few others were left to pick up the pieces and start from scratch.
He was a good man. Gator made sure that he was never implemented in anything to do with Roy or himself. He was doing a great job, weeding out the few left behind and hiring new, upstanding deputies to help run things. There was no doubt he'd be running and win the upcoming election.
-
You had your routine down, leaving out every Tuesday afternoon after your shift. Hitting up the same motel halfway there. Waking up before dawn to go the rest of the way. Spending Wednesdays with him at the prison.
They'd give you one-hour allotments of visiting time. You'd been his only visitor.
You drive through the gates, flashing your smile and waving at the guards. They knew you by name at this point.
“Hey Bill!” You greeted the guard at the entrance.
“Hey, Y/N. Must be Wednesday.” He chuckled, waving you through the X-ray. You knew the routine. Tossing everything into the bin to go through, then yourself. Pat down examination and you were off to the designated visiting area.
You'd always sit at the table closest to the window, furthest away from the guards. It was quiet. No one bothered the two of you.
You sat the cookies in front of you. The one thing you had actually taken the time to learn how to make and you'd gotten good at it. He loved them.
You were staring out the window, when the buzzer went off alerting you to the door being opened.
He walked out, hands cuffed in front of him wearing that prison issued bright orange jumpsuit you were now so accustomed to seeing. His hair was never slicked back anymore, but he kept the cut the same. Soft brown locks hung down against his forehead.
He donned that crooked smile that made your heart melt as he made his way over to you.
“Hi baby.” He sat across from you extending his hands as the guard unlatched the cuffs. He rubbed his wrists before placing his hands to the table.
“Brought your favorite.” Shaking the Tupperware in front of you, then sliding it over.
They allowed some touching in the visitor's area but not enough. You longed to push the hair from his face and kiss those lips you've missed.
He took the lid off and immediately dove in, taking a cookie and humming around the sugary taste.
“I think these get better every time, Bun.” Finishing it before looking back at you, a crumb at the edge of his lip. You reached up, and brushed it away with your thumb, lingering just a moment.
“God, I miss you.” You whispered, dropping your hand as he reached across the table intertwining his fingers with yours.
“I'm right here, and hey, if I stay off the naughty list I get conjugal visits next month.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively making you laugh and roll your eyes fondly.
“As much as I would love for you to fuck me senseless, you know that's not what I mean.”
“I know, baby.” The grip on your hand becoming a little tighter.
You fell into an easy conversation. You always told him about what was happening since he left.
“Spoke with Andy. They're expecting and he's absolutely over the moon. They're still planning on getting married, but they're going to wait until after the baby.”
You were still talking but he was hung up on that first part. He felt like a failure all over again. That could be you and him. Happy. Engaged, maybe even married. But no. He was stuck here because of all the stupid choices he had made long before he'd met you. He knew he didn't deserve you.
You stopped talking when you noticed his crestfallen appearance. Eyes glossy, and pouty lips.
“Hey, what's wrong?” You shook his hand lightly. “I know that look. Don't.”
“It's just…” he began but you cut him off. He got like this from time to time.
“I know what you're thinking. Stop, ok. We'll get our happy ending once you get out of this place.” You smiled.
A happy ending. What you truly wouldn't give. You'd both been through too much to not see this through.
“Plus, I'm moving closer. I can get another job, another place to live. We don't have to go back to Lehigh. Nothing ties us to that place.”
“Bunny,” his gaze softened. He truly didn't deserve you.
“Nope. I know what you're going to say. I've already made up my mind.”
“Fine, just make sure to clean out the house good before you do. Attic too.” You looked at him with confusion, knowing you had never stored anything up there.
He simply smirked and winked at you.
“Um… ok weirdo. If you say so.” You eyed him warily. “I…”
“Tillman, times up!” The guard shouted, interrupting you.
“I’ll call you tomorrow to make sure you got in, sweet thing.” He said, winking before his hands were cuffed once more.
You watched as the guard led him away. It was always inevitable, but it didn't hurt any less each time.
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It scratched at the back of your mind on the drive home. He was so adamant about checking the attic. It was going to bug you the entire way.
This time you wouldn't stop halfway to rest. Making the drive back to Lehigh in one go, making a few gas station runs but nothing more.
You got in late that night, feeling dead on your feet as you walked into the house throwing your bag on the couch making a beeline for the hall where the access to the attic through the ceiling lay.
You reached up, straining, barely grabbing the thin string but you were able to pull it down as it fell open with a creak.
You took the rickety steps one at a time, grabbing your phone to use as a flashlight. Your head popped up looking around but not immediately seeing anything. To your right, there was a duffle bag you didn't recognize but this must be what he was alluding to.
Your hand gripped the handle, it was fairly heavy, as you brought it back down slowly, placing it on the kitchen table.
Taking a deep breath, you tugged the zipper, gasping when the contents were finally revealed.
The bag was full of cash. More than you'd ever seen at one time in your life.
What you hadn't known is that Gator found that bag when he had rescued you, immediately recognizing it because it was the same one, he had seen at Roy's a few days before it all went down.
That was his turning point. The final nail in the coffin. If Roy could do this to you, there was really nothing he wasn't capable of.
The feds had been whispering in his ear for a few months. After you had broken it off that morning, that was his first call. Even if the future with you was uncertain, he had to keep you safe and taking Roy down was his only choice.
As the initial shock wore off you noticed an envelope sitting to the side.
You tore it open immediately to find a handwritten note.
Bunny,
I figured sooner or later you'd find this before I got out. Knowing you, you're ready to high tail it out of Lehigh and I don't blame you.
Get out of Lehigh, you deserve better than this. Better than me. I never understood why you stuck around, you're too good for me.
On the off chance you still love me, there's enough to get you by until I get out, if you want to wait for me. I understand if you don't. I'm writing this knowing what lays ahead of me.
I know you're going to be pissed, but I did it for us. For our future, if you'll have me. I know I should have done it sooner, and I'm kicking myself for writing it in a letter instead.
There's a velvet box hidden in my sock drawer, if you haven't found it already. I promise I'll ask you proper once I get out. I love you Y/N, more than anything.
Love, Gator
PS- Got your necklace fixed. Missed seeing it around your neck.
Tears began to stream down your face as you clutched the letter reading it over once more before your feet started carrying you toward the bedroom you once shared with him.
You hadn't touched any of his things since he'd been gone. So, you'd never happened upon the small velvet box he was referring to.
You shoved his socks out of he way until your fingertips brushed up against it. You hesitantly pulled it into view, holding it in your hand until you sat on the bed.
You were still crying as you lifted the edges. Your necklace slipped out, catching it before it hit your lap. It had been broken during the kidnapping but with everything that had gone on since you hadn't thought about it but were now grateful to see it again.
Your eyes roved over the ring that was held within. It was simple, modest by most standards, but it was perfect. You'd never expected this from him.
It was a thin, gold band with three diamonds. A center cut with two smaller ones flanking each side. You hesitantly lifted it from the box, sliding it down your ring finger and holding it up to examine it more closely, as it caught the light and sparkled with your movement.
Finally, you clasped the thin gold chain back around your neck, holding the delicate “G” between your fingertips once more.
You knew he'd be calling around noon the next day, expecting you to have stayed at the hotel overnight. You had an idea, not letting on that you'd found everything laid out for you, instead surprising him on your next visit.
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It was bittersweet, packing up your things and getting ready to leave Lehigh. The first home you shared with someone you truly loved.
Since you'd let him know you were moving to Minnesota to be closer to him, it had been a whirlwind of emotions and planning. Your next weekly visit was tomorrow.
In a week's time you had already found a small apartment for rent not far from the prison that would be perfect until he was released so you started the packing process.
During your calls, you'd never let on about the duffle bag. He couldn't say anything, so there was no way he'd mention it over the phone which played to your advantage. Keep him waiting and wondering.
Today when you walked through the gates you were positively giddy. Not only were you surprising him, but this would be your first conjugal visit.
Unlike before, they led you to a small room in the back of the prison. It provided privacy with a small bed and seating area, a counter dividing the room in two.
You were instructed to sit. They'd bring him in.
Your knee was bouncing with anticipation at the thought of finally being able to touch him after 6 long months of waiting.
The feel of running your fingers through his hair, his arms wrapped around you in a warm embrace, vibrating at the thought.
You moved the container of cookies to the small table in front of you as the door swung open.
Gator stepped in, a wide grin splitting his face, as he walked further into the room. His eyes never left you, licking his lips as he turned his body toward the guard so they could unshackle him.
“Alright Tillman, you've got an hour. Just be dressed by the time I get back.” He nodded, “ma’am” leaving the two of you alone.
“Hey, sweet thing!” He rubbed his wrists, watching you ease up from your seat crossing the room, quickly advancing toward him, barely giving him enough time to move his hands out of the way before you pummeled into his chest throwing your arms around his waist pulling him into a bone crushing hug.
“Damn Bun! Miss me that bad?” Letting a small chuckle escape, circling his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.
“You know I miss you!” Melting further into his chest. The fabric of his worn, orange jumpsuit scratched at your face, but you just buried it deeper, breathing him.
You held each other for a few moments before finally lifting your head. As your eyes met, he moved his warm, calloused palm to your cheek before he moved in letting his lips crash to yours, nose pressing into your cheek as he tilted his head pulling you further into him.
He immediately deepened it, hungry for more. His tongue darts out, licking at your lower lip as you part your mouth for him. You hummed at the taste of him, almost making you weak in the knees and rushing a spark to your core.
You finally broke apart, panting as your foreheads came to rest together.
“It would have been a yes, you know.” You whispered. “You should have just asked a long time ago.”
His brows knit with confusion as he pulled away to look down at you, his eye catching the glint of gold around your neck immediately cluing him in to what you meant as his gaze softened, and a lopsided grin returned to his face.
“Yeah? That so?” He reached for your left hand, pulling it into view. The ring was situated on your hand perfectly. “So, you still want to be with me?”
“Of course I want to be with you! I love you, you idiot! And you absolutely are asking me properly once you get out of here!” You giggled as he lifted you excitedly, peppering kisses all over your face as you tried to squirm away from the sudden onslaught of affection.
“So, does that mean I'm fuckin' my fiancé today?” Setting your feet back on the ground.
“God, is that all you're worried about?” Rolling your eyes, slapping at his chest.
“No. But Bun, I'm dyin’ here. It's been six fuckin' months.” He suddenly pressed his hips into you, his already hard length pushing into your lower stomach.
“Sure you haven't fallen for your burly bunkmate? I know it can get really lonely in here.” You laughed, as he groaned.
“Real cute, Bunny.” He was walking you back as he spoke, suddenly lifting you up on the small counter stepping between your legs and crashing his lips to yours once more.
The kiss turned more heated as you both tilted your heads, melting into each other as you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him further into you by the collar.
He began to trail lower, kisses to your jaw to that little spot below your ear that has you releasing a breathy moan that instantly has his cock twitching between you.
“Oh fuck, I've missed those sounds.” He hissed out, helping you shed your jacket letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor reattaching his lips to you, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down the side of your neck.
Your fingers trailed up his chest finding the zipper on the orange jumpsuit you've come to loath, slipping it down as he let you pull it from his shoulders, letting it fall open to his waist. He wore a plain white shirt underneath, fisting the material in your hands as he pulled your hips closer to the edge of the counter.
His hands drifted under the fabric of your top, sending goosebumps across your flesh, as they roamed higher. Raising your arms to let him discard it alongside your jacket.
He's quick to drift to the clasp of your bra, undoing it with ease, letting the fabric fall away from your chest as his large palms engulf your soft flesh, kneading it a little roughly only spurring that now prominent ache between your legs when his thumbs graze over your nipples causing your back to arch further into his touch.
“Oh fuck, baby!” You moan out, gripping the bottom of his shirt trying to pull it up. You were needy. It felt like a lifetime since you'd been able to give him so much affection. Feel his warmth, skin to skin, lips skimming over your soft flesh. Reacquainting with each other's bodies.
Once his shirt was discarded, his hands traced your curves sending a shiver through you.
Your eyes caught the scar on his shoulder that hadn't been there before. A harsh reminder of what he's had to go through.
He follows your eyes, as your fingertips trace over the bit of gnarled, dark flesh.
“I would take a million more as long as I knew you were safe.” Whispering between you.
“I know you would. I just wish you didn't have to. I love you.” Whispering back, moving forward to place a kiss there before placing another to his lips that quickly turned heated once again.
You pushed at the jumpsuit, he helped you discard it and toe off his shoes as you worked quickly on your jeans.
Once his attention came back to you, he helped you lift your hips and slide them down your legs. His hands were immediately back to you, roaming any of your exposed flesh he could reach.
He took a moment, pressing his lips to your forehead, hand to your jaw.
“I've missed you so fuckin’ much Bunny. I love you.” Leaning his forehead to yours, closing your eyes, feeling the warmth of his palm to your cheek.
“I've missed you too.” Whispering as he captured your lips once more, less rushed. His lips glide across yours, tongue ghosting along your bottom lip begging for entry as you parted them. Tongues moving against one another in a slow, passionate dance.
He closed the small gap, as you wrapped your legs back around him. His clothed length pressing into your core as your hips seemed to move on their own accord grinding down against him, catching your clit on the downward movement eliciting breathy moans from both of you.
His hand slips between you, finding the damp spot on your panties, pressing the pad of his thumb into the soaked fabric.
“Bunny, you're so wet. All this f’me? Fuck, I'm a lucky bastard.” He hissed out, finding the edge of your underwear pulling them to the side and letting his fingertip trace your slit before pushing at your aching entrance only breaching slightly, making your hips chase his hand for friction. He trailed up, finding your swollen clit as the pad of his thumb swiped deftly before pulling away. The band of your panties snapping back into place.
“You wanna move… this over t’the… bed?” He rushed out between pants and feverish kisses.
“Please.” You manage to get out before he's gripping your ass, hauling you up and over across the small room without his mouth ever leaving yours.
His knees find the small bed and tosses you down. The springs are a little hard and unforgiving squeaking under your weight with a small bounce that makes you giggle all the same as you lean back to stare up at him.
He's long and lean, looking a little more toned than you remember. Boxers doing nothing to hide his raging erection. His hard cock straining against the fabric, now eye level with you.
You reach up, tracing a finger down the length of him, leaving him gaping and throwing his head back.
“Fuck, I need you.” He hisses out, as you gingerly reach up pulling his boxers down his toned legs, finally releasing him. His length bobs against his abdomen, standing at full attention. Your cunt clinches at the thought of getting him inside of you. Never satiated properly for the last six months you were aching.
He didn't miss the way your thighs rubbed together as he looked down at you, as you took him in your hand, bringing your lips to his soft, ruddy tip, placing a soft kiss there before shifting your head as you ran your tongue up his entire length.
“Oh fuck, baby.” He pulled your chin up to look at him, as you smirked. “Hey sweet thing, as much as I would love to have your mouth, I need your pussy.” The end came out as almost a growl as he began to ease you back onto the bed, his fingertips grabbing at your panties as he practically ripped them from your legs as you heard an audible rip but you didn't mind as he tossed them somewhere across the room.
Crawling between your thighs, parting to accommodate him eagerly. His thick chest hair rough against your nipples, as he presses himself to you taking his length at the base, suddenly running it up your soaked folds making you moan out and arch further closing any gap between you.
“That's it baby. Need it as much as I do, huh?” He hummed, bumping your clit on the way up that made you whine as he captured your lips once more, lining himself up as his head catches your dripping hole.
Your hands grip at his back, running your fingers through the short locks at the nape of his neck pulling the strands when he pushes himself in an inch more.
The toys at home could never fill you the way he could with his thick, long cock. It began to sting as he pushed further. A moan caught in your throat, as your head hit the back of the bed, mouth going slack at the feeling.
“Goddamn, Bunny. You're so… mmmph…. Fuckin' tight.” He grits out, face turning soft once he looks up to notice your brows pinched tight.
“Hey, Bunny. Relax f'me, baby.” He coos, cradling your jaw, thumb rubbing soothingly under your bottom lip.
“I'm relaxed, you're just a lot, baby.” You finally say, opening your eyes gazing into his lust blown irises, nearly black save for the thin mossy ring around the outer edge.
“Yeah?” Lopsided grin returning. “Too much for that tight little cunt?” Not letting you answer before finally burying himself completely as your nails dig into his back with a near pornographic moan escaping your lips only spurring him on.
He slowly pulls out, feeling your walls stretch and flutter around him before quickly plunging back in, feeling impossibly deeper before rocking his hips into yours at a brutal pace.
The stretch and sting slowly subsides giving way to pleasure as he pushes in and out, a fresh wave of arousal soaking you both. You can't suppress the filthy moans falling past your lips.
“That's it baby, let them know how good I'm fuckin' MY pussy. Ya’ don't have to be quiet in here.” He continues roughly pushing his hips into yours as you gasp and writhe beneath him. The sounds of your slick as he drives into with each thrust would have you blushing, but you were too wrapped up in the feel of him to care.
The way your walls were sucking him in and pulsing around his cock, like you were made just for him, was enough to make him cum right then and there.
“Mmmph, Gator you feel so… g-good.” Managing to squeak out, the head of his cock continually massages that spot on your frontal wall with ease.
“Missed this pussy so fuckin' much. Been dreamin’ about the day I could… fuck… cum in her again.” His thrusts get more urgent, as your pussy flutters around him once more.
“Yeah, Bunny? Want my cum? Stuff you full until you can't take anymore?” You whimper at his words, that coil within you winding tighter with each in and out motion working you both toward your high.
He nips at the soft skin at your bared throat, gaining your attention.
“Huh, bunny?”
Barely able to think or speak at this point, you nod at his question knowing he wants an answer. He moves his mouth higher, taking your bottom lip between his, sucking lightly before letting it go with a slight pop. He loved you like this. Too cock drunk to speak and about to fall apart only for him.
He moves his hand between you, expertly finding your clit, as he begins rubbing circles against you working in tandem with his thrusts bringing you closer to the edge. Your back arched off the bed, crying out.
“Fuck! Don't stop!” You huffed out.
“Wouldn't dream of it, sweet thing. Need you t’cum f’me. Gonna leave you so full I'll be leaking out of ya’ for days.” Another whimper slipped out, just as that coil began to snap.
You didn't have time to warn him before your pussy clamped down around him.
“Oh fuck! There she is.” He hissed out, taking his hand from you so he could pound you into oblivion, chasing his own release while working you through yours.
Your nails dig into his shoulders, sure they were drawing blood at this point from the grip you had on him. Your orgasm hit so hard that your toes curled as sparks flew behind your eyelids.
A few more thrusts and he follows behind you, his dick throbbing and kicking up inside of your tight channel as his balls tightened, painting your walls with his spend. He continued to fuck it into you, cursing and panting before collapsing onto your chest.
“Oh fuck Bunny. Goddamn, I missed you.” It came a little muffled, his lips pressed up against you where his head lay in the crook of your neck.
“I missed you too, baby.” You hummed, as he finally pulled his softening cock from you, laying on his side, so you could be face to face kissing the tip of your nose and pulling you close.
“You're an idiot, if you thought I was going to run. We've come too far to give up now.” You whispered, with warm affection and brushing his hair softly from his forehead before leaning in for a kiss before you were so rudely interrupted with a loud knock.
“10 minutes Tillman!” The guard shouted through the door.
“Fuck.” He hissed, leaning his forehead to yours. “That went by too fast.”
“Yeah, it did.” You giggled, kissing his cheek, sitting up.
“Hey,” grasping your hand, once more looking at the ring on your hand. “I’m sorry ya’ fell in love with such a fuck up.”
“I'm not. You're a good man, Gator Tillman. You just needed a push in the right direction. No one ever thought you were a fuck up except Roy and look where he is.” You placed your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.
You finally pulled away to get up and get dressed, as he followed suit knowing your time was dwindling.
“You better grab a cookie, while you still can.” Pulling your shirt back over your head.
“Bun, I got my sugar fix.” Grabbing you from behind, pulling you back into his chest, kissing your cheek as you melted into his touch. “Just needed my sweet thing.”
The door swung open, jarring you both from a few moments of bliss.
“Thank God your dressed.” The guard sighed and laughed as you both rolled your eyes.
You faced him quickly, stealing away one more kiss.
“I'll be back next week.” Smiling softly.
“I know, baby.”
You watched him go, winking at you before he walked out the door.
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The next few weeks were a blur, seemingly going by in the blink of an eye.
You had said your goodbyes in Lehigh. Henry throwing you a small going away party for the hell of it. There were a few tears and lots of well wishes. Of course, Maggie made you promise to keep in touch.
You could have easily used the money that Gator had supplied for the next couple of months, but you didn't see a reason to waste it all. Using it more for a nest egg for the both of you.
Finding a job wasn't difficult. Every bar or diner usually had a high turnover, easily securing a waitressing job at a diner not far from your apartment.
Life went on for the next few months. Seeing Gator weekly, phone calls every other day to get you by.
As it drew closer to his incarceration hitting the one-year mark, you became anxious. The parole board would be looking at a possible early release and you had hoped the feds would put a good word in for him, but it wasn't a given.
“So, by this time next week we'll know if you're finally a free man?” Phone pressed to your ear, sitting on a wooden crate by the dumpster out behind the diner.
“Yup. Warden told me yesterday that the parlor board was already reviewing the case.” He sounded hopeful but you weren't convinced.
“That’s great baby.” Voice coming out a little weak, ready for all of this to just be over and done with.
“Cheer up, Bunny. I have a feelin’ it'll all work out.”
You hoped he was right. Never failing to believe what came out of his mouth. He had a way of sounding so sure of everything.
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The day of the hearing, you sat by the phone practically chewing your nails down to the quick. Busying yourself with whatever would distract you, but it wasn't working, as you found yourself glancing at the nearby clock every few minutes the closer it drew to noon when the hearing would begin.
You knew it may be a while before you would hear from him, but anticipation and anxiety were getting the better of you.
12:15, 12:30, 12:45
Still no word. It felt like torture, every agonizing second drawn out.
Suddenly that familiar number popped up, quickly pressing that green button with frenzied energy.
“This is a call from Sandstone Correctional Institute. To accept this call from Gator Tillman please press 1.”
You held your breath as it connected him over.
“Bunny?” His almost breathless voice came through the line.
“Hey, baby. I'm here.” You rushed out, heart pounding in your chest.
“I'm coming home.”
Home. Such a funny notion to him now.
He didn't think of the house on the ranch or even Lehigh. He only pictured you. Your kind smile that captivated him the first time he laid eyes on you. That unruly mouth that could knock him down a peg but was heaven all the same. He loved everything about you.
The only person that had ever made him feel truly loved.
He was coming home to you.
-
Processing was completed and 48 hours later you were sitting outside the prison gate, leaning against your car.
The loud buzz signaling the gate opening grabbed your attention as he strolled out. That cocky demeanor was still intact, dick first, head held high; smirking when he spotted you across the lot already running toward him.
You jumped straight into his open arms, being fully enveloped by him burying your head into his chest. It was like you could finally breathe for the first time in months.
“It's finally over?” You spoke timidly, holding tight as if he might be wrenched from your grasp.
“It's over.” A simple but all-encompassing answer; both free to live the lives you want.
“So, where to handsome?” Starting the car and looking over to him.
“Well, I thought we could make a stopover in Scandia.”
You quirked an eyebrow his way.
“Uh… My sister, Nadine, well Dot reached out to me a couple of days ago. Thought we might swing by.” He smiled and shrugged.
“You have a sister?”
“Yeah. Well, she was also my stepmom. Long story.” He chuckled.
“Gator, what the hell?” Rushing out with a look of abject horror on your face.
“Bunny, it's not what you think. I can tell you all about it on the way. She's expecting us for supper.” He leaned over, kissing your cheek.
“God, your family is more fucked up than I thought.” Pulling out of your spot and getting onto the highway.
He grasped your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.
“Yeah, but you still agreed to marry me.” He grinned.
“I haven't agreed to shit. You still have to ask.” Giving him a smirk in return but admiring the ring proudly situated on your left hand. You wouldn't trade him for the world.
You'd gone through literal hell, and you weren't about to let him go now. It didn't matter where the two of you ended up as long as you were together.
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bteezxyewriter12 · 3 days
Text
Annoyed Series
Jongho
Pairing- Jongho x Named Reader
Word count- 1.1k
Includes- Everything is consensual, slight angst, wall sex, semi public sex, passionate sex, fluff
Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa
@yeosxxx @seokwoosmole @jjongsbebe @wisejudgedragonhairdo @meowmeowminnie @woo-stars @borntowalkaway @usagionthered @san-realblkwife @seonghwasstar @jejeyeppeo @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @prayerofthehaim @realisticnotes @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @stephy-nicole13 @mknae-jongho @amyz78 @marvelfamily3000 @bykeynote
Masterlists- check out for more fics
📝Annoyed Series Masterlist
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📝ATEEZ Masterlist
📝Jongho Masterlist
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"Hmmm I think San could", my best friend giggles to Wooyoung
I clench my jaw, glaring at their backs, so annoyed as I hear her answer to Wooyoung's absurd question- Who does she think can fuck her the best out of the eight of us
Where he comes up with these questions is beyond me as is why she's answering it
"Really?", Wooyoung asks, "Not Jongho?"
"I don't think Jongho is that kind of guy"
What kind of guy?
She doesn't think I can fuck her really good?
"Yeah he's a total prude", Wooyoung laughs
"Yeah", she agrees, shocking me
And I've had it
Getting up, I stride over to the couch they're sitting on
"Jo, I need to talk to you", I say agitated
"Are you ok?", she asks concerned
"Yeah, just come with me"
She shrugs at Wooyoung, then stands up following me out of the dressing room and into an empty one
"What's up Jongho?", she asks
I turn to her, pushing her against the wall, "You really think I'm a prude?"
Her eyes widen, "You heard that?"
"It was hard not to hear with how loud Wooyoung was", I snap, "Do you really think I couldn't fuck you the best out of the eight of us?"
"I uh...I don't know Jongho. You're not exactly....passionate about a lot of stuff"
Just because I don't show it doesn't mean I'm not
And if it's one thing I'm passionate about, it's her
My best friend and the girl I fell in love with when we were twelve
And she has no idea and apparently thinks I'm a prude
I'll show her
"Then let me prove it to you"
"Uh what?", she asks, shocked
"Let me prove that I can fuck you the best"
"Jongho...I uh.."
"What's the matter? Scared?"
"Scared?", she snorts, "Of what?"
"That you won't be able to get enough after I'm done with you"
Her mouth drops in shock
"I'll fuck you so good you'll only want my cock in your cunt from now on"
I swear the utter disbelief in her face would be comical if I wasn't so annoyed
I raise my eyebrow at her and she nods, "Yes"
Good
Pulling her to me, I kiss her, fireworks going off in my vision
She moans, kissing me back, letting my tongue in and play with hers
Her arms move around my neck and I bend down, picking her up, her legs wrapping around my waist
Leaning her against the wall, I reach under her skirt and tear at her panties, ripping them off her
Her hands slide down my shirt, getting to my belt and undoing it, then my pants
I pull my pants and boxers down enough to free my dick, pushing against her
"Fuck so wet already", I smirk against her lips, "I didn't even touch you yet and your soaked for me"
She nods, leaning her forehead against mine, "Please Jonghie, fuck me"
Aligning my cock to her hole, I push in but I go slow
I want her to feel my whole cock going inside her
I go in a little at a time, impaling her on my cock, her tiny pussy spreading just enough to wrap around me
"Oh fuck", she cries
"You feel me baby?", I murmurs, "Feel how hard you make me?"
She nods, "Yes Jonghie. Please all of you. Want all of your big cock"
"You'll get it baby", I assure her, stretching her cunt wide open
I finally get all inside, reveling in the pulsing her wet pussy is doing, a hum of pleasure running through my body
Pulling back, again I go slow, making sure she feels every inch of my dick leave her
She shivers against the wall, leaning her head back against it, moaning loudly
I leave my head inside her, then slow but hard I push my cock back in
I bottom out, my head stroking her spot, making her pussy water around me
I continue to move, thrusting slowly but powerfully, deeply, listening to her pretty moans, the bliss increasing
"Fuck you feel so good. I knew you'd feel this good"
She nods, whimpering, "I knew you'd feel this good Jonghie. I knew it"
Her words register, making me smile
Seems like I'm not the only one who thought about this
"Yeah? You knew?", I ask, burying deep inside with each stroke, feeling her spasm and cream my cock, sucking me back in
She nods, moaning my name
"I'm gonna fucking wreck you just like this", I murmurs, "Make you feel every inch of my cock. Ruin you for any cock but mine"
"You already did", she moans, her eyes opening and looking at me
I'm shocked to see the love in them
"I love you", I confess, surprising myself
She smiles, touching my face softly, "I love you Jongho"
Then she's kissing me passionately and I fall into her kiss
Holding her tightly, I keep moving my hips, rolling slowly into her clenching pussy, loving how drenched she's leaving me
Her hole throbs harder, squeezing the life from my cock as I fuck her against the wall
"Gonna cum for my cock?"
"Yes", she moans between kisses, "Gonna cum in my pussy?"
I nod, "Fill you right up jagi"
God, I'm so close
"Then tonight, I'm taking you home and fucking you all night. Eat this pretty cunt. Let this pretty mouth suck my cock. Then fuck you open again and again"
"Yes, fuck", she whimpers, "Tonight and every night"
I murmur in agreement
"You're mine Jonghie and I'm never letting you go"
"Don't Jo. I only ever wanted to be yours. I won't let you go either", I promise her, "I love you"
"I love you", she says, her lips against mine, her words washing over me
I thrust hard into her cunt, my head smashing her spot and she moans my name as she cums
"Jongho!"
Ecstacy blasts in my vision, pleasure running right to my cock and I moan her name, coming into her orgasming pussy
She tugs and milks my cock, feeling utterly good
I hold her tightly as we both ride the pleasure, watching how beautiful she is as she cums
I can get used to seeing this
When it ends, she smiles softly at me, then kisses me again
"Think we should go back?", she asks after we pull away
"I don't want to but yeah we probably should"
I put her down and we fix ourselves the best we can
I pick up her tattered panties and put them in my pocket
She giggles, "Perv"
"You're perv", I shoot back
"Yeah", she giggles, taking my hand
Once we get back to the dressing room, Wooyoung look up at us grinning
"Guess the answer to my question is Jongho"
"Shut up", I say rolling my eyes while she laughs
She glances over at me nodding, as I smile at her, "Yeah, it's Jongho"
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batsplat · 3 days
Note
Chad reed on always the entourages creating the drama. I cannot believe that is what caused rosquez downfall but also given the level of Vale's celebrity and the way he carried himself, I can totally believe that it was the entourage (iPad stand I'm looking at you) that brought the end
(about reed's 2020 quotes in this) yeahhh I mean the downfall was caused by a whole bunch of factors, not just any one thing... like all great tragic narratives, it feels inevitable from a global perspective and yet thoroughly preventable in its specifics, with loads of points where you think, 'oh, if things had just gone a little bit differently'... there's this tension in how, in the end, maybe it would've always gone wrong, but a lot had to come together for it to go wrong in quite such a spectacular fashion
reed's definitely correctly identified one of the factors - the entourages, and valentino's entourage specifically. though fwiw, I did cut off the article before reed predicted the marc/fabio rivalry was headed a similar way (this was from 2020, obviously before the arm injury):
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for better or for worse, fabio has skipped the villain arc to head straight to the depressed frenchie arc
regardless of whether this rift would have happened or not, the idea that marc would have gotten a new appreciation for the situation valentino found himself in is at least an interesting one. though if anything, the rivalry with fabio would have more closely paralleled valentino's with the other aliens (new talent coming through, but with the previously dominant rider still a regular winner). now is the time marc's learning what it feels like to come back from a prolonged absence from being competitive at the highest level - and of course with a new superstar simultaneously making his debut
so yeah, anyway, tragedy, you can point to all sorts of strains and pressures and tension inherent to professional sport that were exacerbated by the personalities involved and the influence of the media and the passage of time etc etc. but never mind all that, let's get back to entourages! I know you mention everybody's favourite b-list shakespeare villain, but I'm going to basically mostly ignore him because it's well-trodden ground. yeah, it does help to have one guy who's whispering poison into your ear for a prolonged stretch of time before showing up at your motorhome doorstep with a bunch of telemetry and a dream. and yeah, there were people in valentino's entourage definitely encouraging this path to doom. but what I'm also interested in is the flip side - why nobody stopped him
I would like to submit into evidence this passage detailing the thoughts of vale's mechanic alex briggs. now briggs in this excerpt blames two groups for how things went down in 2015:
the yamaha side (specifically the press group) for not talking him down from the ledge before the presser
the crew chief and other assorted italians on the team for being too "yessy" and not standing up to him
let's briefly (for a given value of the word) focus on the first one. if you're a random yamaha pr person and you see the valentino rossi run to a press conference (given he was late) with a bunch of papers in his hands (well, he's not actually holding the papers in those gifs, but presumably somebody's got them), it's probably a tough ask to expect you to hold up the valentino rossi and ask him what exactly he's intending to do with those papers. also, is he really going to back off because you, random yamaha pr person, have asked him to please not accuse the competition of sabotage? added context is that some at yamaha were aware of what valentino thought about the race at phillip island (which we'll get to in a sec), but god knows if the pr people did. unless he confided in anyone on the yamaha side what the plan was, a lot of them would have been blindsided too - which does come back to the problem of how big a deal valentino is and how maybe you're a little more cautious about questioning what he's about to do with those papers than you would be with somebody else. it does feel like perhaps a bit too much to expect for them to have launched some last-minute intervention, or to even know what kind of intervention they could have gone for beyond low-level comedy hijinks to stop him from even getting to that room. why did nobody from yamaha place a banana skin in his path
but we do know that at least some in yamaha were aware of valentino's great big phillip island sabotage theory, because lin jarvis has very helpfully told us as much (from the post-sepang media scrum):
Q: Do you think it was a mistake for Valentino to [provoke?] Marc so much on Thursday with a very personal and hard attack? Jarvis: There are always many different ways of addressing different problems - Valentino chose to do it in that way. Perhaps that is what provoked Marc into being quite aggressive on the track. I really don't know, you need to ask Marc not me about that. Every action has a consequence. That's life. Q: And did you know before that Valentino was going to be so aggressive with Marc in the press conference? Did you know before? Did you discuss with Valentino about this decision or you didn't know until it happened? Jarvis: Personally, I was not aware of that. I was aware of Valentino's opinion of the race in Australia, but I was not aware... but I was not aware that he would - Q: Don't you think because Valentino at the end of the day is an employee of Yamaha he should discuss before with you about such an important decision, to attack a rider of another factory in such a heavy way [...]? Jarvis: You can't control every incident, everything that happens and you know, generally we have a very good [...] relation, connection with our riders, we talk to them before about things before, but anyway I think this is something Valentino felt strongly about and it was his decision and that's it.
note the use of the word "personally", which does leave the door open to others within yamaha (outside of valentino's inner circle) knowing what was going to happen. jarvis, unsurprisingly, comes down pretty firmly on the side of 'well what were we supposed to do'. given that jarvis admits he knew valentino's theory and is hardly a stranger to valentino's modus operandi - after all, he was already team boss at the time of another tense press conference in sepang eleven years prior that took place in the wake of valentino accusing a competitor of messing with him - you do have to wonder whether yamaha could not have tried a little harder to stop valentino. but again, accounting for the power of valentino's status and the power of his character, I'm personally unconvinced yamaha could've done much to convince valentino to change his mind
so then: the italians. a little bit of context - briggs started working with crew chief jerry burgess in 1994 and both of them were on mick doohan's team for all of his five 500cc titles. when doohan's injuries forced his retirement, valentino inherited his championship-winning team upon moving up to 500cc. jb was vale's very first crew chief in the premier class, and him as well as briggs have been working with vale since december 1999. understandably, this is a very tightly-knit group. it is one that made the jump to yamaha with valentino - here's just a quick excerpt (also from oxley's valentino rossi: all his races) about briggs' thoughts on that move:
When Valentino decided to defect to Yamaha, he was determined to have his crew go with him. Only one stayed at HRC. "We first got to know about the Yamaha deal in Portugal, I think [September 2003]," Briggs continues. "I wanted to stay with JB, because I hadn't finished learning what I wanted to learn. "I remember a clandestine meeting in the car park at Phillip Island, about salaries and how everything was going to work. It was really exciting. When I very first started working with Honda the whole group was very much a team. Towards the end we felt like it started to become a bit us and them: the engineers and management, then the mechanics and the riders. They'd sort of got too big for their boots - they'd designed this wonderful bike, so it was like it had nothing to do with us. That made it easier to leave.
and also about the move to yamaha, from the 2020 barker biography of valentino:
But with his trusted crew chief Jerry Burgess and most of his other team members from the Honda garage agreeing to defect with him, Rossi had the crew he needed, not only to win but also to enjoy his racing. It was a heartening display of loyalty and something of a risk for all involved. ‘When I announced to the mechanics that I was going with Valentino they said, “I’m coming too,”’ Burgess later explained. ‘Some of those guys were leaving very secure jobs and taking a big gamble.’
the group also survived the move to ducati (obviously a deeply frustrating two years not just for the guy riding the bike) and the move back to yamaha. but then, valencia 2013, valentino announced his decision to fire jb in a press conference organised for the pair of them. his 2013 season had been deeply frustrating - yes, he had gotten a podium in his first race beating both marc and dani, but after that generally speaking he couldn't come close to matching the other aliens when healthy. he was comfortably the fourth best rider that year, scrapping and clawing his way through midfield battles and having to rely on misfortunes befalling the three title contenders to achieve his podiums and his sole victory at assen. he was considering retiring at the end of the 2014 season once his current contract expired, but wanted to try everything he could to see whether he could be competitive again against the world's very best. and so, he made the decision to roll the dice and get himself a new crew chief, the italian silvano galbusera
now I have to say, personally I have a lot of time for this decision (even if it was maybe not... uh, enacted in the most graceful of manners, given how sudden it was). I come from a sports background where a certain ruthlessness in personnel decisions is encouraged and generally praised - if something isn't working, you should have the courage to make a change, even if it's deeply uncomfortable (including on an interpersonal level). also, while it was a sudden departure, it's not like burgess was that keen on sticking around much longer (again from the same oxley book):
Valentino ended his collaboration very suddenly at the end of 2013. Burgess was shocked but not too much, because he already knew that he was coming to the end of his own career. "When it ended for me I'd already been doing it 30-odd years and I'd told Valentino a few weeks earlier that I wasn't going to sign any more multi-year contracts. I was 60 by then, so I'd go year by year. I'd already signed a contract for 2014, but I would've thought if we hadn't had any more success by then that there wasn't much point in continuing. I felt we would win more races but I was more doubtful about championships. "I'd read enough sporting biographies to know that sportsmen change their coaches towards the end of their careers. It can give them a spike in results but it doesn't change the overall story. Looking back, Valentino's career went on longer than I expected. He enjoyed some success but no more championships and that's what you race for. Of course he was in the unique position of being able to get a factory bike until he retired. He was very special and deserved everything he got."
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which, look. again, personal bias, but to me it's reasonable to part ways with somebody who doesn't think any more titles are plausible, because at that point it's just somebody who has a very different view on your career than you do and may well not stick around for much longer anyway. also, at the end of the day, jb was wrong! valentino came extremely close to winning another title, and just because he didn't, doesn't change the fact he could have. if it had rained on the 8th of november 2015 in valencia, we might be having a very different conversation. (or if they hadn't changed the bloody qualifying format post-2012.) honestly, if the 2016 and to a lesser extent the 2017 season had gone just a little differently - a working bike in mugello here and an unbroken leg there - he could have been a genuine title threat in two more seasons. in any case, what it does show is that valentino even at the end of 2013 was still as determined as ever, was ready to engage in what was a huge gamble (given how almost all his success had come with the highly decorated jb) on the off chance he might find what it took to win again. this will not have been an easy decision for valentino. here's a write-up of the presser at valencia, that stresses how uncomfortable the occasion was, how surprising a decision it was to jb, but how publicly at least there was a lack of recriminations (which, to be fair, wouldn't be much fun to do in a shared presser):
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(you'll note that the phrasing in the presser about athletes attempting to extend their carrers by changing things up is echoed in what he says in that book interview where he adds that it doesn't change the overall story, again suggesting he didn't really believe valentino would be competitive. he also uses the same phrasing in ANOTHER interview that confirms as much, but I think you get the point.) valentino said at the time, "it was a very difficult decision for me because I have a great history with jeremy. he is not just my chief mechanic. he is like part of my family. my father in racing". this is somebody he'd been working with since age 21, somebody who is not only revered within the paddock for his work with several of the sport's greats but is also a man who valentino obviously has a close personal connection to. meeting for the first time when vale snuck into the honda pit to check out the bike he might ride next season, hitting it off immediately, countless rowdy dinners together, parties, jb and another older colleague sitting back when food fights started, watching valentino grow up, working with him throughout all his big manufacturer switches, all his successes and all his failures... as much as anything else, it's evidence of how strong vale's desire to win was, how determined he continued to be, to make this choice at this stage of his career. and jb was open to the idea (at least publicly) that it might end up being a smart call:
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the 'dirtiest' part of the whole affair is how it was actually carried out - it's not great form to tell your crew chief the day before you end up doing a press conference together to announce your choice. for whatever it's worth, this is how valentino justified the timeline:
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and lastly, which I think is the most key part, is valentino's belief. because at the end of the day, the only reason why he's doing any of this, and the only reason why what was to come was possible at all, is that he himself still thought that he could challenge for another title - as much as that belief had come under strain:
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now what this piece also goes on to say is that nobody believes this will work. nobody believes that firing jb will lead to better results. people expect that this is going to lead to his retirement, quite possibly at the end of 2014. it's worth just remembering sometimes how extraordinary valentino's return to the top of the game post-2013 really was, how it went against how we expect a rider's competitive lifecycle to work, went far beyond the longevity exhibited by any top rider before or since - all while going up against riders who are widely believed to be some of the best to ever do it. valentino beat jorge in both 2014 and 2016, and remains one of two people to outscore prime marc marquez over the course of a season. not to engage in too much rossi prop here, but sepang 2015 can't really be understood without all the frustration that led up to it, to this one golden chance, this miracle that everybody had believed to be impossible (sometimes even valentino). this wasn't supposed to be happening. it was happening. and then, so so close to the finish line, valentino could feel it slipping, slipping, slipping away
but of course, we still don't know whether changing crew chiefs is the key factor that made him competitive again. maybe he just needed a bit longer to get back into the swing of things post-ducati disaster. maybe the bikes just started to suit him better. hey, maybe it was that nifty exercise regime he'd engaged in a wee spot of espionage for so that he could pinch it off his teammate. what we can say, however, is that valentino's choice both tells us a lot about his mindset, as well as (to finally bring us back to the actual point of this post) representing a massive shift in his 'entourage'. this is what briggs is referring to in his quote - the italians. the new crew chief. the people who couldn't stand up to valentino. now obviously, as mentioned above briggs had worked with jb for the better part of twenty years and can hardly be considered a neutral party. here were briggs' feelings on the matter (yeah it's from the same oxley book again, I got it new for eighteen quid which is a very generous price, would recommend):
When JB was out at the end of 2013 it was like losing my mechanic dad. I remember being in the garage when we found out about it. Then they arranged a kind of farewell, a kind of hodgepodge farewell. It was terrible, I didn't like any of it. I was just hiding behind one of the bikes in the garage, crying, going, what's going on here? It didn't seem right to me. I think maybe Valentino thought he would get faster again sooner, but I think it took at least a year to get the taste of the Ducati out of his mouth. I think if he'd stayed with JB we would've won the championship in 2015.
which. look. we don't have time to unpack all that. but. the point is that obviously briggs wasn't exactly a massive fan of the change within valentino's team, and his comments about the 2015 season do have to be read with that in mind. as to whether vale really would have done better in 2015 with jb at his side, your guess is as good as mine. all that being said, a part of me wonders how much losing that grounding presence enabled valentino's late-2015 spiral. maybe not in terms of talking valentino out of the great big fluctuating lap times treachery theory - to state the obvious, valentino got himself involved in plenty of drama during jb's time as a crew chief. jb himself occasionally helped add fuel to the fire in those feuds, like his infamous comment about how he would be able to fix the ducati's issues in 80 seconds that casey still brings up every three business days (the comments were poorly phrased but also somewhat taken out of context, in that jb was talking about a specific set-up problem). he's generally been pretty happy to be forthright about valentino's rivals, for instance this about casey:
My feeling at the time was that Casey probably only had one game plan, and having watched Casey over the years, he doesn't have a plan B. If it doesn't go his way from the outset, it's probably one of the weaknesses that he had through the youth that he had, through the lack of experience that he had. That's not a criticism of him per se, he was still only 22 at the time.
(this is about laguna seca 2008 and how he helped valentino win that race, including in plotting out vale's rather ruthless tactics - which casey was of course not exactly a fan of.) or these. uh. harsh comments about dani from spring 2010:
Q: Is that atmosphere or track knowledge? Is it like the Spanish finding something extra at the racetracks in Spain? JB: Well, therein we show the weakness, don't we? If you can get up on that weekend, on the technical racetracks of Spain, why can't you get up on the technical racetracks like Australia, where the Italians do? Lorenzo is a guy who will and does. Stoner has been able to get up on tracks all over the world. Unfortunately, Dani Pedrosa's into his 6th year in MotoGP, and he's won 8 races, Jorge Lorenzo's two months into his 3rd and he's won 6. It's night and day between those two, is the way I see it. Dani's an extremely fast rider, but a shockingly poor racer. Q: Were you surprised at Jerez [2010] when Pedrosa fought back when Lorenzo passed him? JB: When did Dani fight back? With two laps to go, and he didn't even get close enough to try to come back. Dani has never been a fighter in races, he's a lovely kid, don't get me wrong, but you can see that Lorenzo, having Pedrosa in front of him, it was never going to be the way he was going to finish that race. He was going to finish on the ground or he was going to finish in front of Pedrosa. That's the sort of race that we want, we had that with Biaggi and Valentino, and from history with Schwantz and Rainey. All the good riders have always had somebody they have had to put the target on the back of. It was Doohan and Gardner, and Doohan won that battle hands down, and I think Jorge Lorenzo's going to win this battle [with Pedrosa] hands down.
kind of a dick! so his attitude to valentino being valentino has generally been a) well having enemies is good, actually, with an added slice of b) good luck to his enemies :) - see also this quote (from the barker biography) in the context of the gibernau rivalry:
And that made Rossi even more dangerous, as Jerry Burgess pointed out: ‘Valentino is the sort of rider I wouldn’t want to get angry. He can take you apart on the track.’
so yes, jb is also perfectly brutal in his own right, as you presumably have to be to work alongside valentino so closely for so long. he is, however, also somebody valentino has a massive amount of respect for, somebody who helped turn him into a legend and is responsible for a lot of vale's success - not least, of course, in the pivotal move to yamaha. he was replaced by a man of a far far lesser stature in the sport, one who presumably would have been grateful to valentino for the biggest job he was ever going to get. if briggs is right and there was a shift in valentino in 2015, surrounded as he was by italians (derogatory) who could not stand up to him, who allowed valentino to insist on war and peace on the pit boards, to focus more and more on things that had nothing to do with riding... it would be going a little too far to say that valentino was missing an adult in the room given he was, in fact, in his thirties and should have been capable of being that adult. and who knows what jb would have said or thought or done about the great big childhood hero deception theory. but sepang 2015 was the culmination of a lot of things, including a pressure cooker of a season that grew more and more tense and put more and more stress on everyone involved - perhaps for none more so than valentino. maybe, just maybe, if he'd had somebody around him with fifteen years of experience in handling him, who could have just occasionally told him to knock it off, to concentrate on the racing, to keep things simple (always jb's defining philosophy), to maybe not get so wrapped up in the great big spanish collusion theory...
or maybe it wouldn't have mattered! maybe we're getting cause and effect all wrong here; maybe valentino was deliberately fashioning his entourage into one that was only going to give him positive feedback. maybe he would have just stopped listening to jb, maybe the very decision to fire jb makes it clear he was no longer interested in what jb had to say. it's a tragedy, after all! maybe it was always going to go like this. maybe it was always going to end like this
speaking of entourages, marc's manager played a bit of a cameo role in fanning the flames just a little further (article from marca, 26/10/2015):
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alzamora obviously will be somebody valentino is familiar with, having raced him in 125cc and also having just coexisted in the paddock over the years. valentino could of course be lying, but idk, why would he? he's already made his case by this point, and what if alzamora were to contradict him? if it's true and this conversation did happen, you do have to say it's a spectacularly unhelpful intervention from alzamora. even if marc was mad at valentino, why the hell are you telling valentino this AFTER sepang 2015? what's the plan here buddy
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^ 1999 world champions: alzamora in 125cc, vale in 250cc and alex criville in 500cc. people think motogp lore is complicated but if you know like, five guys, you're set for about twenty years of drama
which does get to the heart of the matter - a lot of these people have big egos and their own agendas and they love to run their mouths. they like talking a big game and getting involved in things they really shouldn't be getting involved in. is reed right that these people in the riders' entourages 'created the drama'? well, no, I think the two men at the centre of this particular tragedy were plenty capable of doing that themselves. nevertheless, you can point to how professional sports (and motogp in particular) forces you to rely heavily on a small group of people to keep you sane at the centre of the storm, and the risks that can emerge when that small group collectively unmoors itself from reality. you can point to the perils of fame, both in making your reliance on your inner circle so unnegotiable as well as in providing you with the status and power and ego to ignore anyone who might wish to change your mind. you can point to specific figures in this story who managed to incite the conflict between the two of them, as well as how the pressure cooker competitive environment they were operating within helped set up the ultimate catastrophe. you can point to how valentino lacked anyone with the power to stop him - both in the direct sense of forcing him to reconsider and the indirect sense of commanding his respect enough to make him see sense. maybe, just like in 2004, valentino had simply been "looking for an excuse" and he was always headed down this path. or maybe if somebody had just held him back a little that year, kept him focused on his riding, maybe if the right person had intervened at the right time...
maybe, maybe, maybe. that's why it's a tragedy
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Vox biology headcanons I mentioned last time, because why tf not
• Vox has 2 brains Well, only technically. He has hardware needed to power a TV in his TV head and an actual, human brain just below his head, somewhere along high-chest level. The actual biological spine starts just under where the neck part of it would end, but instead of there being unsupported nothingness, there's a fucking metal spine that fills in the void. A bunch of wires extend from the hardware, forming a sort of secondary nervous system, allowing Vox to do all his tech bullshit.
The thickest of the wires runs all the way down Vox's spine and exits in the place where the tailbones would usually be, succesfully forming a tail. The tail actually can extend about 2 meters (or 6ft), but about half of it is tucked away inside his body. He can roll up the tail to about 25 cm (3ft : 4, 3/4 of a foot ig?) or extend it up to the afformentioned 2m/6ft. It's mainly used to be able to move around while charging or to be able to find a chargeport from the comfy spaces to sit.
Vox's tail is shaped like your standard computer charger, with the end being a B-type plug used in the US (due to him being American while alive). It is, as mentioned before, not actually a tail, but, rather a charging cable. After updating his head to a newer, more energy-consuming model it just appeared one day. As stated in previous hc's, Vox needs both sleep and charging, and here I explain why.
Basically, charging is for his hardware, and without it he can't do all his tech bullshit, overheats a lot and generally enters a state that is most simmilar to the flu. He also experiences problems with his display due to the hardware powering it literally dying.
Now, sleep in needed for his human brain. Without sleep he will show typical symptoms of a person who hasn't fucking slept in a while. What's suprising is that he won't notice for a while, since his biological NS (nervous system) will use the energy of his mechanical NS to stay alive (and vice versa!), but before the 'no sleep' symptoms set in, he'll have trouble with his memory due to the lack of sleep, which makes it unable for his short-term memory to be transfered to his long-term memory, and his ADHD making the whole short-term memory shit even worse. (Yes, he does have ADHD; will be explained in another post)
BONUS RADIOSTATIC
When Alastor dissapeared, Vox put himself on the amazing "23h work day" schedule and allowed himself one hour of charging time. Due to sufficient charging, his symptoms of lack of sleep were limited to shitty memory and light chronic fatigue, which kept progressively getting worse each year that Alastor was gone, but Vox substitued sleep and combatted his symptoms with...!!! (drumroll please!)
A shit ton of energy drinks, coffee (both drink and powder) and sugar mixed together into an unholy mixture that no other denizen of Hell nor Heaven would dare to touch with a 300m/900ft pole
So when Alastor returned to find his bf/husband barely alive (or, well, as alive as a demon can be) he analyzed his schedule and proceeded to seduce/force Vox into taking a week-long break to get some motherfucking sleep for once. Vox then proceeded to not be able to sleep on the first day and then completely crashing and sleeping about 60 hours straight (gay) on days 2-4. Alastor basically wandered around, cuddled Vox and was happy that his masterplan worked. After trying to make up for as much missed sleep as he could, Vox woke up, ate like 5 kg of spaghetti (Al was in the mood for pasta), drank like three big-ass bottles of water (about 4,5 liters), went to the bathroom and took an hour-long shower, after whichhe crashed back too sleep for another 12 hours before he stopped the sleep fest.
Alastor was both concerned and impressed at that, since that's a lot of fucking spaghetti, but also that's almost certainly more water than the average demon is supposed to drink per day.
In the end they went on a date and just chilled for the remaining time and Alastor made Vox a new, 6 hour work plan and he would't take 'no' for an answer.
(credits to @deppresion-soup for the tail thing and most of the Radiostatic bonus. It was their idea, I just kinda changed and expanded it in the 1:35 AM rush) (PS they have an amazing fic on ao3 with two-sided radiostatidc for once)
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penelopepine · 2 days
Text
Little Purple Stars Pt. 2
Part 1 Part 2
Ghost x FemReader x Soap
Content: Soulmate AU, fluff, no angst
Despite having made contact with your soulmates it had taken another 2 weeks before finally being able to meet up in person. They had managed to get in contact with your coach though and the three of you were able to exchange phone numbers.
 It turns out that Sun and Moon, or Johnny and Simon as you know them now, had found each other a while ago. They had just been waiting for you to show yourself; which led you to where you were now. Sitting on a plane making your way to England; to them.
You wished that you could've dropped everything and ran to them, but you needed to stay and cheer on your fellow teammates during their events. That didn't mean you weren't almost constantly talking or texting with them though.
Johnny and Simon talking over the phone matched the way they drew. With Johnny being talkative and open; while Simon was more reserved and added his input when he deemed it necessary. Their voices had initially surprised you, but surprise was soon replaced by butterflies in your chest with the way they said your name. 
Plans were quickly made to meet up as soon as you were able to. Everything was happening so fast, but at the same time not fast enough. 
All throughout the plane ride Johnny and you had been exchanging little doodles; Simon adding his little hearts next to all of them. Making sure to let you know that he was here, and engaged with what you two were doing. 
"Ladies and gentlemen, please remain seated, we are about to land in just a moment." The pilot announced to the plane; it was time.  Time to meet your soulmates. You had a photo of them already, Johnny had sent it on the second day of you three talking to each other saying it was only fair that you know what they look like as well.
The photo has been very cute, you may or may not have made it your phone's screen saver. It was them lying down together with Johnny smiling wide at the camera while Simon's face was partly hidden behind Johnny's head. Leaving you only to see his intense stare and blonde hair.  
You make your way off the plane to the baggage claim making sure to keep an eye out for two certain individuals. It isn't until you spot a giant sign with your name on it surrounded by purple stars do you finally see them. 
Simon is standing stoically, a bouquet of flowers in his hands, and with a plain black face mask covering the bottom half of his face. 
Johnny on the other hand is practically jumping where he stands. He is also holding onto the sign and starts to excitedly shake it once he catches your eyes. "Lass, over here!" He yells as he pats on Simon's shoulder before pointing to where you're currently standing.
You can't help but smile watching them. Doing your best to not all out run to them as they too start to walk towards you.
As soon as you’re in arms reach Johnny drops the signs and picks you up. Spinning the two of you in circles, giggling while holding onto one another. He quickly places you down right in front of Simon.
"These are for you." Simon holds out the flowers for you to take.
"They're beautiful!" You bring the flowers close to your chest smelling them before you hesitantly open your arms out in a hug. It seems that was all Simon needed before he too was pulling you close to his chest; holding you tight. 
"Well done love, winning the gold, we're disappointed we weren't able to be there, but just know we were watching you the whole time."  Simon whispers before he releases you from his grip kneeling down and picking up your bag. Obviously ignoring your remarks about how you can carry your own stuff. 
"Aye let him carry it lass heaven knows once he gets his hands on something he doesn't let go." Johnny says, giving you a wink. 
"Oi don't start with that now Johnny." 
"I didn't say anything that wasn't true Lt." A mischievous grin spreads on his face as he turns to face you, "Simon here might act all big and tough, but I promise ya he's a softie."
 "I'll keep that in mind next time we train MacTavish. Let's see if you still feel that way afterwards." 
In a faux whisper that clearly meant for all to hear Johnny leans into your ear and says, "See what did I tell ya; a softie that one." 
Simon doesn't say anything, simply glares at the other man in front of him.
You couldn't help but laugh at how the two are acting. It's cute to see them bickering with one another; you feel content to just listen to them talk.
Upon hearing you laugh both turn towards you. Simon's eyes lose that glare once making eye contact with you. "I can be soft for you though, love." His hand comes up to caress your check. 
You feel your face become hot as his hand continues to touch you for just a few more moments before pulling away as he looks towards the other. “Johnny, pick up the sign and let’s get out of here.” 
"Aye, let's get you home bonnie! We have the entire day planned out for you; starting with you taking all the relaxation you need. Take a nap, shower, or whatever you need while me and the big guy here make our ice princess a very special meal."
Johnny holds your hand, and Simon has a hand on the small of your back as the three of you make your way out of the airport. 
Home that was a good way to describe what you were feeling right now; you felt like you were home right now standing between the two of them. There was still a lot you had to learn about them, but you would gladly spend a million lifetimes doing so if needed. 
End Notes:
Thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed this! It really does mean a lot to me. I plan to start writing more so if anyone has any ideas swing them my way and I'll see what I can do!
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itsabouttimex2 · 20 hours
Note
Hi can I please request Yandere Alphabet for MK please 🙏💗 I really enjoyed reading your Redson version
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Yandere Alphabet: MK
(Let’s Start Over!MK is now available to chat with!)
Authority: Do they see themselves as above their obsession?
No, not in the slightest. MK views you as his equal, even if he won’t always treat you as such- he’s got the powers and the staff, after all. Why not just leave the hard stuff to him?
Bread: Can they cook or bake? Is Y/N responsible for their own food?
MK cooks and delivers noodles, so he’s obviously got some skill in the kitchen- I like to think that cooking with Y/N (and Pigsy) is a frequent bonding activity for him. Although, he does enjoy just making things for them as a surprise.
Cruentus- How do they respond to Y/N being hurt, both slightly and severely?
Even little wounds like paper cuts are met with worry, bandages, and lots of comfort. If you’re on the younger end, he might even kiss the bruises or scrapes.
If you’re hurt seriously? It’s like a switch flips, albeit temporarily. He’s absolutely vicious towards anything he considers a threat, willing to outright shatter the bones of his enemies to keep them from endangering you.
Disengage- What’s their response to being ignored?
Worry and concern. And then smothering Y/N until they either tell him exactly why he’s getting ignored, or they give up and return to “normal”.
Enclosure: Where do they keep Y/N?
As a noodle delivery boy with a one-room apartment, MK doesn’t have anywhere to keep you, nor does he have a way to get you to his room without alerting anyone.
Facade: Are they good at hiding their true intentions?
Yes, to a certain point. He’s pretty decent at pretending that this is all part of being a hero, trying hard to protect someone he loves. But then there’s little cracks running through those defenses, his clones performing surveillance well into the night, his insistence on Y/N sleeping over for weeks on end, his attempts to scare suitors off… the closer you look, the worse it gets.
Garment: Do they take control of Y/N’s clothes?
Nope- not unless he’s demanding them to wear one of his jackets when the weather gets cold. Also, trashing anything “revealing”. Aside from that, he’s pretty respectful towards their choices.
Handicap: How do they handle Y/N being or becoming disabled?
If they start disabled, MK is an absolutely sweetheart about the whole thing, bringing you your pills in the morning every day, making sure you eat after taking them, keeping you hydrated so you don’t experience nausea/headaches after the dissolve in you. He’ll insist on pushing your wheelchair, or even outright carry you wherever you need to go. Making food that won’t trigger your Sensory Processing Disorder, bringing you new clothes that won’t make you itchy, etc.
If they become disabled, MK blames himself for not being a better hero for you and triples down on his protectiveness, potentially even locking you inside for days on end to prevent your condition from being worsened again.
Intertwine- How physical are they? Do they enjoy skinship and touch?
Eleven out of ten, here. MK’s hands are always on you. Your wrists and head and hair and back and waist, hugs and pushes and pulls that keep you where he wants you, ready to drop everything and cuddle you at a moment’s notice. He just needs affection so bad.
Jaunt: Are they willing to take Y/N out? Where do they go?
Yes! He wants to take them all across Megapolis and show them so many cool things. Museums and cheese tea stalls and pop-up events and the zoo and every fun thing he can think of that might make you smile and laugh- without putting you in any form of danger.
Kindness: What brings out the best in this yandere?
You. His family. Being a hero. He won’t ever stop being a kind-hearted young man, no matter how severely his obsession might swell.
Limitation: What holds them back? Work? Family obligations? Physical weakness?
Yes, yes, absolutely no. He still has to earn money and save the city/world and spend time with Pigsy and Mei and Tang and Sun Wukong. He’s a pretty responsible kid in spite of everything, which means he’s far from the worst potential yandere- if you have a good enough heart to save innocent people at the risk of your life again and again, you aren’t going to be that bad of a person, even if they’re struck lovesick with obsession.
Morals: What lines are they not willing to cross?
MK won’t resort to any form of physical punishment, not even ear-dragging. No (intentional) gaslighting. No harming your friends and family, unless they prove to be a serious threat to you. He wouldn’t withhold affection or love, nor would he smear your reputation or destroy your livelihood.
The point of him obsessing over Y/N is to keep them safe! He doesn’t want to hurt them at all!
Nausea: Can they tend to an illness, or would they rely on a doctor?
If the home remedies that Pigsy has taught him don’t work (unlikely) he’ll resort to a doctor’s professional advice- probably Mei is the one who foots any fees, just to lend a hand to her best friend.
Obcordate: What reminds them of Y/N?
Sunflowers, towering blooms that represent warmth and adoration. Sugary drinks to binge during movie nights. White lilies, symbols of innocence and sweet-natured souls. Marshmallows, soft and squishable and sweet.
Pacify: How do they comfort Y/N? Do they even bother trying?
Movie nights with lots and lots of snacks, soda, and junk food. Monkey Cop, for something mindless and fun. Some of Mr. Tang’s scholarly lectures, for interesting background noise. And cuddles.
Queue: Do they have something of equal or greater importance to Y/N?
His friends. His surrogate father. Megapolis. The world. He can’t just throw that all away for one person, as much as he loves you.
Redemption: Could they grow out of their obsession and make amends with Y/N?
Season Four would redeem him. The Ink Curse shreds him a brand new hole over his obsessiveness, about how it��s hurting him and Y/N. How he’s a worse hero for it, how he prioritizes his obsession even over people who are in more danger, how he’s butchering his training by skipping to spend time with them, etc.
And it actually works. MK realizes that he needs to back off and work to overcome his obsession, for both him and Y/N to be happy. It might not ever fully leave, but it does get much better.
Sobriquet- What nicknames do for they have for their obsession?
“Mèimei”, for someone he views as a little sister. Dídí for someone he views as a little brother. And he hopes that you’ll repay the favor and call him “Gēge”.
Troop: How many people do they obsess over? Is that obsession spread equally?
Just one- Y/N.
Underdog: Who‘s on the yandere’s side? Would they help out?
Mei, who agrees that Y/N is a big cutiepie and needs to be protected. Pigsy and Tang, who want their surrogate son to be happy. Wukong, who just doesn’t want the kid to lose someone he loves. All of them are willing to “babysit” on occasion, too.
Vocalize: How do they justify their actions?
MK will just say that anything he does is for the sake of “protecting” Y/N, and he believes it with all his heart. It doesn’t help that none of his closest friends call him out of any of his more unethical actions for a very long time.
White Whale: Why do they pursue Y/N, exactly?
They’re sweet and precious and helpful, and he doesn’t want to see the world so carelessly rip that away from them. MK lost a lot of his innocence and gained trauma, and he’s intent on keeping them safe and sound and mentally well, even if it’s by destroying anything that dares threaten to harm them.
Xanthous: What do they really want?
Unconditional love and support from someone he cherishes.
Youth: How old is Y/N in comparison to them? Younger, same age, or older?
Younger by at least a year. MK wants to be someone’s “big brother” so bad. He takes that role very seriously, too. Holding your hand as you cross the street, tucking you in at night… even as a yandere, he’s kind of a sweetheart.
Zealous: Do they pursue Y/N doggedly, or are they more laidback and casual with their approach?
He’s rather dogged, honestly. There’s an almost sweet enthusiasm to his protectiveness, like a guard dog who just wants the praise of his master.
Author’s Choice 1: Would anyone else go yandere for this specific Y/N?
Yes. Pigsy and Tang both insert themselves into Y/N’s life as father figures, agreeing with MK that they need to be protected, if not outright sheltered. The kid is sweet and polite, offers to help constantly, is always volunteering in community projects and lending a hand to those in need.
How could they let the world rip up something that is so unabashedly good?
Author’s Choice 2: Do you have any AU’s involving this character?
Aside from Primal Moon, the afore-mentioned Let’s Start Over!
Basically, several after MK’s adventures end and he’s grown up, a notably innocent and sweet kiddo comes along and meets him on Flower Fruit Mountain, having taken the mantle of ‘Monkey King’. (I’ve also considered calling him ‘Monkie Knight’ in this AU given the whole ‘working for the king and fighting for good’ thing. Still ironing it out!)
He decides to start training them so that they can one, intent on teaching them everything he knows. MK tears out an itty-bitty portion of his power and stuffs it into Y/N, allowing them to wield the staff. Once they’ve mastered enough of his skills to wield it, that portion gets pulled back out. (And Y/N is out to bedrest for three full days, just in case it hurts them.)
The new Monkey King/Monkie Knight seems kind, and really he’s not all that bad-
But MK is trying to relive his story through Y/N, and constantly impedes their own journeys to make them safer. The hero is basically forcing someone else to avoid the traumas he went through so he can feel content, as though his own traumas never occurred.
And this works out decently, until Y/N starts going their own path by redeeming a villain that MK never thought he’d see again.
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thunderwetter · 17 hours
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TF One Theory - Why do the Waves stand with Starscream?
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So I was thinking about this screenshot and to me, there's one very obvious reason why this shot is the way that it is:
At this point in time, Starscream leads the revolution. There's no Megatron to cause beef between the trio. They pull in the same direction.
Okay so take everything here with a huge chunk of salt, we don't know how and why the war has started and neither do we know what the whole deal with the Con insignia is, but what we do know is that D-16/Megatron wears it the entire movie, discovers a helmet with the same shape and that there's a war going on even before Orion and D-16 have any chance of starting it. A war without insignia, mind you.
This screenshot heavily implies that the war (or at least a war) has started without Megatron and instead, his three angels are the leading figures with Starscream on the throne - but why would the Waves serve him?
First of all, the easiest explanation: Soundwave cares more about their goal than he does about their leader.
In previous versions, it has been established that Soundwave is willing to serve any Decepticon leader as long as he believes in them and that they will make the Decepticons succeed. From Marvel to the various cartoons and comics, he has rarely ever taken command and usually was right by the side of whoever barked the loudest: be it Megatron, Starscream, Shockwave, Ratbat or Galvatron (to name the most prominent examples). He's often seen to favor Megatron in comparison to others, but he's willing to replace him too if he doesn't see any future with him leading them to victory. See these examples from US Marvel G1 where he helped Shockwave destroy Megatron after he went insane and IDW1, where he allied himself with Galvatron, hoping to achieve peace:
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Keep in mind that both of these examples were reactions to Megatron's failures. In the Marvel version Megatron went insane after Optimus died and was incapable of leadership, in IDW1 Megatron defected to the Autobots and denounced the Decepticon cause.
In early Prime, Soundwave kept Screamer in check, however he did not contest his leadership as he later did with Airachnid. He saw Starscream as a realistic alternative or at least a temporary solution while Megatron was out of order. Once again, him following someone else was directly caused by his previous leader's inability to continue doing so.
Soundwave's loyalty is to the cause.
But what about Shockwave?
Shockwave is traditionally shown to stand in direct contrast to the others. While in Cyberverse his dispute with Soundwave is played as a joke and his disloyalty to Megatron is merely hinted at, in the comic runs he is just as treacherous as Starscream and while he's not being as obvious with it, he definitely has the intention to ursurp the Decepticon throne or more. In the Aligned continuity (specifically the Exodus novel) it is mentioned that he provoked a war between Tarn, his city, and Vos, Starscream's seeker city, to not only eradicate the seekers but also to get in Megatron's favor and prove that he is the superior second-in-command. In the Prime cartoon later on, they have an active rivalry. Starscream is constantly being pushed back, and, most notably, is the only one to trigger Shockwave's emotions. Shockwave emotes with his antennae, showing irritation and annoyance with Starscream and even openly threatens him with physical violence.
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However as is the case with Soundwave, Shockwave is seen to be willing to work alongside Starscream if necessary. During the End of Prime, we see Shockwave grab Starscream and flee to Cybertron together, where they also collaborated on reviving Project Predacon for Predacons Rising. Shockwave is easily capable of killing Starscream, he could also just left him with the Autobots after Megatron's end, but he didn't. He saw more logic in sticking together. He saw use in him. Curious, it almost seems like these two can get along once there's nobody to suck up to anymore, doesn't it?
G1 also has some very interesting Shockwave moments that lead me to believe that TF One is gonna lean heavily on the G1 characterizations for Starscream and Shockwave (and most likely Soundwave, too) OR make Megatron the reason for the rivalry to even bloom.
During Countdown for Extinction, Starscream makes Shockwave believe that Megatron is dead. Shockwave, blindly loyal in this version, shows distress and despair, however he allows himself to be pushed to the side by Starscream and do as he wishes (until he realizes that Megatron is still very much alive). In The Revenge of Bruticus, Starscream and Shockwave are also seen working together out of necessity, giving us this glorious screenshot.
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But all of these examples are taken under the circumstance that Megatron is a key figure. "Megatron" doesn't exist yet in TF: One - so why is Starscream the leader? Who put him in charge?
We don't know the reason for the war / the purpose of the revolution yet. We know that transformation isn't a given in this version (yet) and we know that freedom is not what it seems. D-16, B-127, Orion Pax and Elita-1 are all seeking freedom and this is what not only gets them their T-Cogs but also the ability to explore a world that's completely different from the city they know.
We know that Iacon exists - so perhaps other major cities we know, such as Kaon, Tarn and, most importantly, Vos, could be a topic and possible locations in the movie. My first thought was that maybe the revolution of this timeline started in Vos, in the Seeker capital, and it was Starscream who started it, given that in multiple version he leads the city-state.
Because think about it: What is the perfect symbol of freedom if not wings, if not the ability to fly? Even the damn throne looks like it has wings!
We've seen quite the amount of seekers in the trailer too, seekers that are able to fly and to transform. Seekers that are identifiable.
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These two are somewhat getting focused in the trailer, possibly Skywarp and Nova Storm (like in Earthspark), the second might even be Sunstorm (if Hasbro even remembers he exists).
At another point in the trailer we also see a winged corpse in the foreground. I have a feeling that transformation and especially transforming to fly is going to be an important aspect in the war here.
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The amount of fliers heavily implies that we are perhaps right in Vos, the center of attention, and that is why Starscream is in charge. We are, quite literally, in his realm, on his turf. He is the most powerful one around because he knows his way around the city and he can fly and maybe he also has the political power needed to engage in a large-scale conflict like the one we saw. We've seen him as a politician before, as a good one too.
Whether it's with his words or his actions, he convinced the Waves to follow him and they deemed it the most logical choice to follow him to achieve their goals - whatever these may be.
Probably Megatron will be the one to rally everyone under the same banner, establish the Decepticon insignia and potentially sow the seed for the rivalry between his three commanders, becoming the ideal symbol, both a leader and the figurehead of his revolution.
I almost wish for the tables to be turned and him snatching leadership from Starscream, but I think it's more likely that the dynamic will naturally develop...or be forced on him with some good old abuse, we know Megatron. I wouldn't be surprised to see him beat Starscream up and the Waves realize that maybe following the strongest wouldn't be a terrible idea.
But yeah! That was my interpretation/analysis of that one specific frame. I'm really hyped about this movie, in case you can't tell lol.
Lemme know what you think and if you got something to add, feel free to sneak into my ask box and leave your two cents!
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