#I can just tell I had fun writing it lol

[skyward-floored]

I still hold that this part from this fic is one of the funniest things I’ve ever written

#woozy Time is hysterical actually #rambles from the floor #linkeduniverse #linked universe #honestly it’s probably just one of the funniest fics I’ve ever written anyway #gosh I just reread the whole thing and bjnjfdvbfsgch #I crammed so many references in there too #I can just tell I had fun writing it lol

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The Pirate (Dad Squad)

EVERYBODY COME GET YOUR LINEBECK SOUP!!

Abel shook the strange feeling off of himself as they stepped through the gate created by the item. If it had led them here, that likely meant its twin had opened a portal to this land as well.

Blinking a few times to reorient after the brief kaleidoscope of light, Abel took in the sight of a bright sun, the smell of sea salt, and the sound of crashing waves. They were obviously by the ocean, though he had no idea where in particular, or what sea. He only knew of the Lanayru Sea, but tales spoke of other bodies of water that rivaled it.

Rusl walked ahead first, adapting quickly, eyes alert but face placid. Abel watched the Fierce Deity walk after him, unreadable as usual.

Something clearly caught their attention as they stood at the edge of the dock, staring. Abel peeked around them, wondering what it was, when he caught sight of the scene.

A ship was sinking. But it was moving towards them. Its deck had just been submerged, and its mast was all that was remaining. A man stood atop it, glaring ahead fiercely as if willing the boat to make it to the dock in time, but his posture was proud as if this had been planned all along.

What in the world...?

The mast managed to reach the dock in the nick of time, allowing the man to step off. He blew out a sigh, looking like his knees were about to buckle, when he caught sight of the group of men. He sized them up quickly, eyes widening a little at the sight of the deity, and then waved sharply. "How's it going? I'm just passing through. Gotta go now. Important things to do."

"Wait," Rusl interrupted, stepping into his way. "Can you tell us where we are?"

The man blinked, hackles less raised, confusion evident. "Where you--this is Mercay Island. How do you not know that? What, you get clocked by those red spandex wearing freakshows too?"

Abel immediately stiffened. "The Yiga were here?!"

"The who?" the man bounced back, looking even more confused as the wind whipped through his dark brown hair.

"It's a group of demon worshippers," Rusl explained. "They've taken our sons. We're tracking them. Where did you see them?"

The man's face flushed, eyebrows coming together in outrage. "They took someone of mine as well! And he's my best crewmate! Well, he's my only crewmate, but that isn't the point! I came here in search of a new ship to track them down since they--they sunk--"

Here the man sniffled, glancing away in seeming anguish at the lost of his boat.

"I'm sorry about your ship," Rusl said appeasingly. "But perhaps we can help each other."

The man hummed, crossing his arms and squinting at them as if he were debating the matter.

Abel started to grow impatient. "Do you want to find your crewmate or not?"

"Don't get short with me!" the man snapped. "I am Linebeck, captain of the seas, and I know this place better than anyone, especially you guys. I'm your only chance to find those freaks, so you're going to take orders from me now!"

The Fierce Deity picked the greasy looking man by the back of his coat, bringing him to eye level. The man, in turn, squealed, flailing his arms and legs in a desperate maneuver to get out of the hold, yelling, "LET ME GO, YOU BEACHED WHALE!"

Abel glanced at the deity, tempted to tell him to toss the man into the sea, but if he truly had seen the Yiga, then they unfortunately needed his help. Rusl just sighed, seeming to grow a little tired of being the sole negotiator of the group.

"How do you propose we find the Yiga if your ship has been damaged?" Fierce asked, silencing the man's squeals. "If I retrieve it, will you be able to repair it expediently?"

"Retrieve--it's sinking into the sea, you small brained land mass!"

Abel did have to almost laugh at that one. Rusl looked unimpressed by the man's impolite demeanor, but at least his insults were entertaining. Nevertheless, they needed to move.

Fierce seemed to sense Abel's impatience and Rusl's disapproval, casually tossing the sailor aside as he walked up to the mast. The man spluttered, shakily trying to get to his feet before promptly falling back on to his backside as he watched the deity singlehandedly start to pull the ship out of the water with a firm grasp at its mast. Abel heard the wood start to give, though, not tolerating the force it took to fight the water crushing the rest of the ship, and he put a hand on Fierce's shoulder. "Let it go. We'll have to find another way."

Rusl turned to Linebeck. "We'll work with you, friend, but not for you. Understood?"

Linebeck gulped, still trying to process what he just saw, and then he huffed, rising. "F-fine. Whatever. But I'm still in charge."

Abel felt his eyebrows pinch together. "That's not--"

"Let's go!" Linebeck announced, twirling around and marching towards the island. "I know just the ship we can acquire."

The three trudged behind him somewhat reluctantly. Abel bristled at being given orders from someone like this, but he kept his mouth shut for now. Instead, it was the sea captain who spoke first.

"So... what are all your names?" he asked as he continued to stride ahead.

The Ordonian answered first. "I'm Rusl. This is Abel, and Fierce."

"Fierce?" Linebeck repeated, glancing back at him. "Weird name."

"It is my title," Fierce clarified.

"Title? Who calls you Fierce? Fierce what, Fierce Breaker of Personal Boundaries?"

This man talked entirely too much.

"What's the plan?" Abel asked before the conversation could continue.

"That ship," Linebeck said, pointing towards a relatively large ship sitting in the harbor. "We can use that to track those scum."

"If you already had another ship, why were you perturbed at the loss of your other one?" Fierce questioned.

"It's not his," Abel surmised quickly.

Rusl smiled, rolling his shoulders. "All right, then. Who owns it?"

Abel glanced over at the Ordonian, a little baffled. He still hadn't entirely wrapped his head around what kind of work this man did - he was the most polite and kind of the group, easy with people, yet he condoned stealing in a heartbeat.

Not that Abel wouldn't steal if he had to, but... he had to. Rusl was... he didn't know. This just certainly was not the first time the man had done it, that was for sure.

And clearly, this sailor was more akin to a pirate.

Sighing heavily, Abel listened as Linebeck prattled on about some women "who won't be a problem," and the three men started moving steadily towards the boat.

Surprisingly, it only seemed to have two women aboard - Linebeck claimed that the rest of the crew was at the market. That at least made things simpler.

The four moved quickly. Rusl crouched low, leading the way and pulling out a dagger he hid in his belt. Despite being quite the swordsman, Abel had observed that Rusl often resorted to a dagger in close combat, and the more he saw it, the more he questioned the blacksmith's occupation. Fierce, on the other hand, left his hands open, likely not wanting to use his powerful blade on a couple women guarding a ship. Linebeck was also unarmed, curiously.

Sighing, Abel unsheathed his sword. He caught up to Rusl, and the two rushed up the gangway, picking a target and quickly overpowering them. Rusl never unsheathed his dagger, only using its small hilt to smack the woman across the temple, knocing her unconscious and covering her mouth as she fell. Her companion caught sight of him before Abel could get to her, yelling, but Abel easily tossed her overboard while Rusl pushed the other down the ramp.

Fierce walked aboard next, glancing around, while Linebeck sauntered aboard. The pirate's face was tight, as if he hadn't quite expected the ferocity the men had displayed, but he tried to cover it with a quick little, "Well done. Now we can depart."

"Not yet," Fierce said quietly, his voice in that low tone he used when stalking prey. Abel immediately went alert, whirling to find what he was looking at, when--

"Intruders!!"

Turning sharply, Abel saw a woman pointing from a door leading below deck. Within an instant, at least ten other women appeared, all armed and snarling.

"You said they were in the market!" Abel yelled as he readied for a fight.

Linebeck didn't reply, seemingly vanishing into thin air, and Abel only caught sight of his blue tailcoats slipping under a barrel.

"Did--did he just--"

"Not now!" Rusl snapped as their enemies charged on them.

Abel focused quickly, dodging a strike from a nearby fighter before parrying her blade and kicking her away to create some distance. Thankfully, he still had at least one functional shield left, and he quickly used it to block a jab from another enemy. Before he could retaliate, the two women were swept away by a... screaming woman?

Abel glanced to his right to see Fierce holding one of the fighters by her wrist and using her as a weapon to ram into the others. At his questioning glance, the deity explained, "The little hero usually does not approve of killing mortals. If these women prove problematic, I'll eliminate them, but for now--"

"Behind you!" Abel interrupted, pointing as another fighter tried to leap off the rail of the deck and stab Fierce in the head. The deity swatted her like a fly, and she rammed into the opposite end of the ship.

"Jolene!" some of the others shouted. Abel immediately perked up at the reaction - clearly this woman was important, maybe even the leader.

"Toss her off!" Abel ordered the deity, moving to intercept a few other enemies. He glanced to his left to check on Rusl and found the Ordonian starting to accumulate a pile of enemies who were on the ground writhing or motionless.

The former knight felt a swell of pride for his friend before looking back to see Fierce easily throwing the leader off the ship. As predicted, the others followed to check on her, leaving the men in peace temporarily. Abel put his sword and shield away to pull out his bow and arrows while Rusl pulled the gangway up to prevent them from returning. Moving to the edge of the ship, Abel nocked the arrow, aiming for a second before letting it fly. It sank into the woman's shoulder, making her scream in pain.

He nocked another arrow.

"Abel," Rusl interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder. "The fight is over."

Abel continued to stare at his target. Killing her would put the rest of her crew into chaos. It would prevent them from following them.

Rusl's hand tightened a little, reassuring but firm. "Abel."

Sighing, Abel slowly lowered the bow and arrow. His focus was interrupted as he heard splashing, glancing over to see Fierce throwing the bodies overboard.

There was a scrape of wood on wood, catching the men's attention, and they all drew their weapons to see--

Linebeck, peeking out from under the barrel. "Oh, are they all gone?"

I'm going to kill him. Abel marched forward, eyes alight with rage, when he was held back by Fierce, who pinched the back of his tunic to prevent him from moving ahead. He turned to snap at the deity, but his words were quickly overrun by the pirate, who dusted himself off and continued, "Well done, then! We're ready to set sail! I'll man the helm."

As he moved forward on the deck, he scurried all of a sudden, filled with seemingly feral energy, and stood on his tiptoes at the railing, shouting, "THAT'S FOR ALMOST BLOWING UP MY SHIP TWO WEEKS AGO, JOLENE!"

Before anyone could comment, he rushed to set sail as if his life depended on it, guiding the ship out to sea.

Abel blew out a frustrated breath, and he felt Fierce release him. He kicked the barrel under which the pirate had been hiding, taking little satisfaction from it but having to get his anger out somehow.

Rusl took a moment to calm himself as well, though far less noticeably, before he walked over to the wheel. "So where are we going?"

"Bannan Island," Linebeck answered, eyes on the horizon. "That was the direction they went, towards the north sea. They also claimed to be going to a Banana Island, so I think they heard the place's name wrong."

Banana Island. Goddess. Sometimes Abel was almost embarrassed that these were his enemies. Though it simply proved that sheer numbers could cause enough of a threat, despite how idiotic they were.

There was silence for a while as Marcay Island grew steadily smaller. The adrenaline of the fight wore off, and Abel slowly slid to the ground, feeling his stomach grow steadily more upset at the tossing of the waves.

"Who are these people, anyway?" Linebeck eventually asked, glancing at Rusl. "What do they want?"

"They essentially want to see the world burn," Rusl answered, crossing his arms. "Somehow that involves taking our sons hostage."

Linebeck pursed his lips, debating some issue, and sighed. "Well, that's rotten luck. Good thing you have me."

"Oh yes," Abel huffed. "Where would we be without you?"

Linebeck didn't seem to catch his quip, or if he did, his rebuttal was interrupted by Fierce asking, "Why did they take your crewmate?"

Linebeck's face soured, and he glared ahead of him at nothing in particular. "Whatever the reason, Link can probably get himself of out of it. But... I need a crew. So I'm finding the kid."

Link?!

No. Surely not. There was no way this disgrace of a man had a Hero in his crew, and--

Oh goddess he did, didn't he? That would be why the Yiga targeted him.

"Our boys are named Link too," Rusl said, eyes widening a little as he came to the same conclusion. "Heroes of Hyrule, spread across time. I think they must be targeting them because they know they'd stop them otherwise."

"Heroes? Hyrule?" Linebeck repeated, staring at him. "My kid isn't a--I mean, he's--look, he's my crew, and... he's a good kid, but..."

The pirate bit his lip, staring at the wheel a moment, still and silent. Worry etched every feature before he shook his head.

"The Yiga will perish," Fierce assured him. "We'll find your child."

Linebeck flushed. "H-he's not my child!!"

"Right," Rusl chuckled, patting the man on the back.

Abel sighed, ignoring the pirate temporarily and looking at at sea. The horizon bounced up and down along with the ship, giving him a headache, and he closed his eyes. He wondered if they'd actually have any luck this time - all they'd found were scraps of information and cold leads. This attack seemed fairly fresh, so hopefully they could make it in time.

Ugh. Closing his eyes made the seasickness worse.

Thunder rumbled, catching Abel's attention, and he hastily opened his eyes to see dark clouds ahead. "Uh..."

"Are we going to sail through the storm?" Fierce questioned, staring at the abysmal weather.

"No sailor goes through a storm on purpose," Linebeck immediately said. "That's just suicide. Lucky for you, I'm an excellent sailor. We'll skirt around it - I don't want to lose too much time."

At least Abel could agree with the man on that. But still... even he, someone who did not navigate the ocean, knew not to get near a storm out in the open sea. "Are we sure about this? We should probably try to avoid it altogether."

"And give those sea vipers time to get away?" Linebeck growled, glaring at the clouds. "Ha! I, Linebeck, master of the seas, can handle this just fine! I'm getting my crew back, blast it!"

Well... he couldn't fault him for his determination, at least. But still... Abel sighed, hugging the wooden support rung under the railing, lightly bouncing his forehead against it. "We're going to die."

Abel's relatively mild quip felt more and more like a promise the closer they got. The winds picked up, the sea turning a sickly green, and Abel nearly threw up with how much they were being tossed around. Rusl nearly flew across the ship as one wave almost overturned them, and Fierce had to grab him by his shirt to save him. The three men clung to the rail desperately, occasionally getting beaten by walls of water spilling overtop them.

Abel looked to the helm worriedly, feeling completely out of control and petrified, only to see Linebeck standing firmly, holding the wheel with a steel grip. He glared defiantly at the sea, almost daring it to try its worst, confident and firm in his stance.

At the sight, the former knight had to admit he felt almost a little reassured.

Another wave crashed into them, and Abel watched Linebeck release the wheel a moment, letting it turn sharply, guiding the ship to ride with the wave. Then he grasped it, guiding the mast with gritted teeth as he fought against the whipping winds. Fierce pulled Abel close, shielding both him and Rusl with an iron grip to the railing so the waves wouldn't knock them off.

Honestly, with the way they were getting tossed, Abel would be surprised if they didn't capsize. He clung desperately to both the rail and the Fierce Deity, feeling the mythical being's strong arm pressing him and Rusl closer together. Rusl and Abel exchanged a look, some kind of finality or certainty in each other's eyes as they nearly flew over another wave, facing it head on.

They still had to find their boys. Abel had to get back to Tilieth. He'd survived a damn apocalypse, he wasn't letting this be what killed him.

Glancing up at the pirate again, Abel saw the same fierce determination on his face. It was a promise, and despite how Abel's entire world was trying to kill him, he took comfort in it.

Abel closed his eyes, his forehead touching Fierce's sleeve, his hand brushing against Rusl's as they both held on to the deity for dear life, shivering and trusting and letting go.

Hylia... I leave this up to you. Don't let me down.

He lost track of time. All he heard was the crashing of waves, like claps of thunder, roaring in his ears, making his heart pound. But slowly, surely, the boat jostled them less, the wind didn't howl as it had, and the ship rocked and bounced up and down like a hammock instead of feeling like an earthquake.

Abel opened his eyes, dripping wet, tasting salt and bile, and saw sunlight.

Linebeck smiled down at them, hands on his hips, looking triumphant. "Told you I was the best."

Rusl barked out a laugh, slowly rising while Abel continued to shiver in Fierce's hold. "Well, I'm certainly impressed."

"Are you alright?" Fierce whispered softly, his arm shifting to rest his hand on Abel's back.

Hesitantly, Abel rose, testing his legs, though his knees certainly felt like they could give out at any moment.

It was official. He despised sailing.

But he could recognize and admire skill when he saw it. "Well done, Linebeck."

The pirate beamed, postiively preening at the praise, and Abel found he couldn't hold himself together any longer, leaning over the rail and vomiting.

Linebeck cackled quietly, heading back to his original spot. "Well, it isn't for everyone, I guess. But I promise the rest of the way is less rough."

Rusl helped Abel sink back to the floor while Fierce grabbed some water at the Ordonian's request.

"You good?" Rusl asked. He was shivering too, just as soaked to the bone as Abel, but he seemed far better put together.

"Nothing fazes you, does it?" Abel asked hoarsely, somewhat annoyed and jealous.

Rusl smirked. "We all have our strengths. You're certainly a better fighter than me."

If you say so. Abel pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a little less nauseous, and accepted the water Fierce offered him.

The sun slowly dried everyone off as they continued to make their way to their destination. Eventually, Rusl, being the talkative man that he was, starting gently interrogating their captain while Abel leaned against Fierce with his eyes closed. The deity didn't mind, letting himself be a pillow, but Abel could hear fabric shift as he turned to listen in to the other two.

"How did Link become part of your crew?"

"Well, I was hunting treasure," Linebeck explained. "Link wanted to find the ship I was looking for. His friend, uh, needed some help. So we worked together. I figured the kid worked so well it only made sense that he stick around. He..."

Here the pirate paused, and Abel looked over at him. His eyes were cast downward, and though shadows pulled at the dark circles under his eyes, he had a gentle smile on his face.

"He's a good kid."

Fierce sighed quietly, barely audible over the breeze. "I must figure out why these Yiga are after our children."

Linebeck grew flustered. "I said he wasn't my kid!! Look, he's just a useful member of the crew, okay? Honestly, I'm not that soft!"

Fierce blinked, the slightest crinkle to his nose, a dead giveaway that he was bemused. "You speak of love and affection as if they are weaknesses."

"Wha--I--this is silly, I am a pirate, and--"

"And?" Rusl prompted, eyebrows raised, a mischievous, gentle smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. Fierce may not have understood the man's blustering, but Rusl clearly was just trying to mess with him now, seeing right through his bravado.

Personally, Abel was just a little exasperated by it. Men who pretended they were "tough" and nothing affected them all the time simply to show off annoyed him. He used to maintain a calm façade not because he was trying to prove a point, but because the last thing people needed was to see someone in charge panicking. This was different. This wasn't a way to keep others feeling safe and secure, this wasn't a means of protecting others, this was a pitiful attempt for Linebeck to protect himself.

Perhaps it wouldn't annoy him so much if he didn't suspect the man behaved this way in front of his kid too. He could act a fool to others, but if he denied his affection for his boy right in front of him, Abel did not approve of that.

But he didn't have to say anything. Fierce's innocent confusion would tear down his argument well enough.

Linebeck huffed, looking like he was scrambling for an argument, but Abel had to interrupt it when he caught sight of something. "Is that land?"

Everyone turned to look, seeing a small splotch of yellow and black andd green, and Linebeck laughed triumphantly. "There it is! Land ho! I told you I would get us there in record time! Now hold on, you sorry land slugs, we're coming in fast!"

He was true to his word as it seemed to take little time to reach their destination. For once, it was blessedly easy to find their target - a large ship with the Yiga symbol on its mast, painted sloppily as if it had just been done, was at the port. Linebeck worked to slow their approach, when Abel instead insisted, "Don't slow us down, just ram it - we'll take care of the rest!"

"There's a cannon on this ship," Rusl noted.

"We can't risk hurting the boys if they're aboard," Abel argued, shaking his head. "Just damage it enough to stop them from escaping, and we can board."

Linebeck nodded. "Just so you know... it's uh, all up to you once we get there. I'm a fantastic fighter, but I'm afraid my sword is on my own ship."

Rusl and Abel both stared at him dully. "Right."

The men prepared themselves, weapons at the ready. Fierce pulled out his double helix blade, making Linebeck's eyes double in size. "Geez, overkill much? Get ready, we'll hit them on the port side."

"The--the what side?"

"Port, on the port--ugh, on your left!!"

The three moved, and Linebeck snapped, "Your other left!! Left from facing the bow!"

Abel sighed heavily, positioning himself and bracing for impact alongside the other two. As the Yiga ship grew closer at an admittedly unnerving rate, he prepared to jump.

Their boat slammed the Yiga ship, impaling its hull slightly and causing it to rock so severely that they could hear some of the enemies screaming and falling into the sea.

Linebeck roared in satisfaction. "HAHA, TAKE THAT YOU BRAINLESS JELLYFISH!"

Abel let the momentum of the movement carry him, Rusl, and Fierce across as they leapt with the contact. The Yiga boat was still nearly on its side when they landed, causing them to slip a little, but Abel recovered quickly, decapitating the first Yiga in sight before moving on to the next. The team moved quickly, with Fierce taking out swathes of the enemy in one fell swoop while Rusl tore ahead. Abel scoured the area for signs of a leader, entering the underbelly of the ship as well.

When he reached the brig, he froze, breath stolen from his lungs. There was another gate there, its bright kaleidoscope dizzyingly swirling, and two Yiga stood before it, holding an unconscious boy.

Oh hell no! Charging ahead, Abel stabbed one Yiga quickly, kicking the other off the child before finishing him off. Rusl hastened in shortly thereafter, wiping blood of his sword.

"Anyone else?" Abel asked as he knelt down to check on the child.

Rusl shook his head, cheeks flushed, eyes aflame. He held up a booklet. "Found a journal log, though. Might be able to help us."

At this point, Abel honestly wasn't surprised, just exasperated. He supposed the Yiga's main purpose in being here was to take this boy. Theirs were still at large.

At least they'd spared this boy the same fate.

Fierce entered last. "The enemy has been eliminated."

Abel sighed, looking down. The boy in front of him was young, not even a teenager from the looks of it, though he was likely close. His hair was thick and wispy, golden as the sands and thick with mositure and sea salt. He wore a green tunic and undershirt, paired with white trousers.

"Link!"

Catching the men's attention, Linebeck rushed into the room, kneeling down beside the boy. His hands hovered over him hesitantly, face paling at the abrasions on the boy's face. At first his concern was genuine, but his eyes shifted to the dead Yiga around him and suddenly he looked woozy.

Abel fought the urge to roll his eyes. He motioned with his head to Fierce, who quietly removed the bodies. With the distraction gone, the pirate returned his attention to the child, considerably less pale but still oh so hesitant and gentle with Link.

The boy stirred, squeezing his eyes before slowly blinking them open. Abel could see the immediate sparkle of relief as the boy registered seeing Linebeck, and the former knight smiled a little.

Linebeck smiled in return, hands finally settling on the child, patting hsi cheek and helping him sit up. His grip settled on the boy's shoulders, and he took a steadying breath.

And then he started shaking him like a rag doll.

"You stupid sea monkey, what were you thinking do you have any idea how much trouble I had to go through just to get to you, they sank my ship, now we have to get a new one--!"

The other men stared, a little caught off guard, and then Rusl gently pointed out, "Easy, you're going to give the kid whiplash."

Linebeck paused, glancing at them, leaving Link nearly limp in his grip, eyes dazed and clearly dizzy. The pirate huffed, pulling the boy to his feet, and Link stumbled around a few paces before nearly collapsing against him.

Sighing, Linebeck settled an arm around the child to keep him from falling over, letting him lean against him. "Well. The job's done, at least. But... didn't you say your boys were missing too?"

Rusl smirked. "Ah, so he is your boy?"

Linebeck jumped, eyes widening. "W-wha--no, I--you're dodging the question!"

Rusl waved the booklet in response. "I'm sure this log will have valuable information for us. But you and your son should get out of here. We'll make sure the Yiga can't come back."

Linebeck was practically inflating with hot air to rebuke Rusl's claims about him and Link, but he instead stormed out. "Honestly, I rescue you ungrateful sea barnacles and you mock me. I'm leaving."

"You forgot your kid," Abel noted dully as the boy shook his head and steadied himself.

"Link, let's go, what are you waiting for!" Linebeck called from above deck.

Abel put a steadying hand on the boy's shoulder while Rusl smiled warmly at him. "Better get going, son."

The boy looked between them, adn then the Fierce Deity, and then he nodded, saying softly, "Thank you. Thank you for taking care Linebeck."

With that, the kid ran outside, and Rusl laughed. Abel had to chuckle at the ridiculousness of it all.

"Let's get through this gate and seal it," Abel suggested. "We can read the journal after we get out of here. The less likely they can come back, the better."

Fierce's reply was cut off by voices from above.

"Linebeck, look! It's Jolene's ship!"

"Of course it is, I stole it!"

"But then why is your ship over there?"

"What?! My ship was--that's my ship!"

"Oh! I think I see Jolene on it!"

"She fixed my ship? SHE STOLE MY SHIP??"

Rusl and Abel exchanged a look, and then they both snickered.

Fierce glanced hesitantly above deck, but Abel shook his head. "Leave him to his fate. Clearly this is not their first encounter, and they've managed without us. We should go."

With that, the three men strode forward, preparing for another adventure.

#Tetra and Ciela were with Aryll and Grandma because there are only so many characters I can write that I don't know much about lol #I feel like Rusl might get annoyed with Linebeck occasionally but overall can see right through his little act #Abel on the other hand... whether he can tell it's an act or not he'd drive him nuts LOL #Fierce is just like “he isn't a threat and he's helping me so ok” #I feel like if Linebeck had stuck around and become a permanent member of the squad Fierce would've eventually inadvertently called him out #Fierce: Why do you choose to hide your concern and care behind meaningless words and bolstering bravado? Does it make you feel powerful? #Linebeck: *spluttering* #anyway Linebeck is an excellent sailor thank you for coming to my tedtalk #no matter how goofy or immature or cowardly he is this man is king of the seas and even Abel can respect that #Let Linebeck Be Cool 2024 #and then let him be a goof again lol #this was SO much fun to write oh my gosh #sorry it took a while to write but here it is :) #hope y'all enjoy <3 #also hope Linebeck feels right #Dad Squad #abel #rusl #fierce dadity #linebeck #phantom hourglass #legend of zelda #writing

[liquidstar]

a friend who'd wait :)

#im posting this very late because i was sort of weary of how it came out and ended up messing w it until it was like 4am oops. #and i have plans tmrw so... oh well! i did my best and ill put it out while i can! #and i tried to make the scene match barnard's colors lol #finn's ocs #finn's art #i know i said id do more sillay stuff with the simpler screentone only style but i had a couple more of these in me #and this is the first piece im making thats like an actual part of the story too rather than just setting stuff for fun #i wanna write something to go with it too but for now ill just sort of briefly explain the context in the tags here: #barnard has a pretty bad case of OCD and his compulsions have made it difficult to make friends in the past #he was never outright bullied or anything but people just didnt really have the patience to deal with it #he has compulsions that include stuff like walking through doors until it feels right and needing things to be perfectly aligned #which in group settings has lead to people having to wait for him to finish his rituals and join them #they might find it tolerable at first but eventually they grow impatient and hes just... not invited to stuff anymore #but juno is a newer member of the guild who ends up frequenting the same library. hes also kinda a little weird #and they dont become fast friends or anything but just sort of naturally spend time in the same place #though they never plan meetups they eventually fall into a routine. around the same time theyd just both be at the library #and read next to each other. and maybe talk a bit. and eventually they end up walking back to the guildhall together #since theyre going to the same place after all. and juno always waits for barnard outside the door #eventually barnard asks if this bothers him. juno kinda just tells him 'of course it does' without any malice or anything. just a statement #barnard is surprised and apologizes and juno says not to. but the next day juno doesnt show up at the usual time. #barnard assumes hes committed somekinda more by bringing it up. he ends up staying there late reading to get his mind off it & not ruminate #but when he leaves juno is in fact still waiting for him down the hall (see pic) having collected a bunch of books literally abt ocd #he fell asleep bc barnard stayed later than expected. and hes an eepy guy generally. and also one very bad at expressing himself #but now barnard gets that juno's 'of course it [bothers me]' had the implication of 'but its worth it' which no friend has previously done. #and from the interaction juno was also able to understand that this isn't something barnard just does for the hell of it so. he studies. #and checks a bunch of stuff out because he thinks it could help his friend too (theres ocd workbooks and such- i remember working w them) #and thats the point where they became more ''friends'' than ''pleasant library acquaintances'' #from there on they also do get into juno's problems. whole other bag of worms. but this specific scene is more about bernard from his pov #sorry about when i said briefly explain. i lied </3 #but compared to the whole sequence im picturing its brief so shhh

[starzzyeyed]

With All Your Heart And Soul

Summary:

Spencer knows better than to pray, he does. But right now, sitting here in the cold, with the all-consuming blackness all around him, he thinks that, maybe, he’ll give it a try. Maybe it’s worth a shot. It’s highly unlikely to make anything worse, after all. Or: Spencer gets kidnapped. What follows is the team's desperate attempts to track the person who took him, and events that, for Spencer, are worse than anything he's lived through so far.

Rating: Explicit. 18+ only. Minors DNI please.

Overall Warnings: Kidnapping, blood, detailed descriptions of violence, torture and injury.

Chapter Warnings: Mentioned kidnapping, being held captive, vomit

For @tobias-hankel 's pre-whumptober challenge!

Read Chaper One under the cut or on AO3 here!

Spencer’s been missing for three days, and Hotch is going to lose it if they don’t get any leads soon.

Actually, he’s been missing for a minimum of three days, and a maximum of seventeen, but Hotch can’t think about the bigger number because if he does, he’s not sure he could keep showing up to work.

He’s not sure he could keep his stomach contents where it should be, either.

It’s a piss poor use of the word work, too, since all he’s done for the last three days is stand grim faced and pale in various corners of various rooms, while the rest of the team frantically oscillate between trying to gather any and all information that might help them find the bastard that took their Reid, and attempt – and ultimately fail – to order Hotch to, as Morgan had so eloquently put it the last time the topic had been broached, go the fuck home.

He knows he’s no use to them there; he’d been officially removed from the case as soon as it became clear that this was a missing person situation, as is protocol when the victim has a connection that goes beyond friendship to someone on the team. Which, he might not be as clever as Spencer is, but he’s fairly certain that husband might just fall into that category.

Even if he hadn’t been removed, he knows he’s in no position to help anyone. He can’t even look at the board that JJ and Garcia have been laboriously going over for the last six hours without feeling like he’s going to be physically sick, and the once fresh cup of coffee in his hand isn’t helping matters either.

But leaving, even if it’s just to go back to their house, feels like he’s giving up on Spencer and he can’t do that, not now, not ever. They’ll have to drag him kicking and screaming out of the building if they want him gone, and despite some similar threats from Morgan, and gentle placations from Dave, he knows no one is going to enforce it.

A tiny part of him almost wishes they would.

Distantly, he hears JJ shouting at someone on the phone, demanding that they hand over the security footage that she’s asked for three times now, instead of being pig-headed and demanding they turn up with a warrant first. Hotch wonders what else this small-town gas station owner has on his computer that he’s so terrified of being uncovered. He knows Spencer would have statistics for all of his internal questions; everything ranging from the number of self-employed people who have a petty criminal record they try to keep secret at all costs, despite the fact that they have no overseeing employer to get hung up about it, to those who stupidly use their work computers to harbour illegal files or other such documents.

He can practically hear his husband’s voice, can virtually see his face; abruptly paused midway through reeling off the facts at a mile a minute, suddenly realising he’s rambling and looking to Hotch for guidance, to steer him back to the origin of his spiel, and suddenly, the combination of severe lack of sleep and half-drunk cups of stone-cold coffee becomes too much.

Hotch barely hears JJ asking the person on the other end of the line to hold, and he doesn’t hear her yelling for Morgan at all.

He doesn’t know much about anything for a few seconds, but as his knees hit the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, it dawns on him how lucky he is that his body somehow managed to navigate him to the toilet by itself, rather than leaving him to throw up in the middle of the bullpen, in front of not only his own team, but every other agent with a desk there. Not to mention any potential passing agents or other members of staff.

A shudder makes its way through his body, and he leans further over the toilet, one arm flung over the seat with complete disregard for his suit jacket.

Spencer would have a fit if he could see him now. Sick or not, putting his hands anywhere even remotely near a public toilet would have his husband reeling, and he’s got a whole sleeve just casually draped there.

It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s worn this suit for three days now.

He’s vaguely aware of someone else entering the bathroom just as his stomach lurches, and he only just manages to get his head above the toilet bowl before he retches, a pathetically small amount of undigested toast that Garcia had managed to get him to eat that morning coming up along with the coffee that he’d tried to force himself to drink, to keep himself awake in case any news came in, that had sat like a rock in his stomach.

The footsteps stop at the open cubicle door where he’s half draped over the toilet, half over the floor, but whoever it is is stood behind him, obscuring their shoes from his peripheral vision. It’s probably Penelope. He expects JJ told her, and he knows the sign with a stick man figure hanging above the bathroom door wouldn’t have had her even batting an eyelid about not entering.

“Hotch.”

Only, that’s not her voice, and Hotch groans, barely managing to lift his head from the toilet to look at the man staring back at him, arms crossed over his chest and a look of poorly concealed worry on his face.

“Hotch, man, we’re gonna find him. You know we are.”

It’s not like Morgan to say things that he doesn’t believe to be true, and the certainty in his voice gives Hotch the briefest pause, before his stomach churns again and he’s forced to turn his attention back to the toilet.

He jumps when a hand comes to rest on his back, and a moment later Morgan’s squishing himself into the stall with him, his back resting against the opposite wall to Hotch’s while his hand never leaves his shoulder.

“Hey.”

Morgan doesn’t say anything more until Hotch drags his gaze up to meet his, and the absolute exhaustion present in the older man’s expression, the utter weariness that shows on his face is so much worse than the tears Morgan sees gathering in his eyes.

“We’re going to find him,” he repeats, and he holds up the index finger on his other hand when he sees Hotch go to speak. “We are, Hotch. You can’t give up hope now. This is Reid we’re talking about; he’s not going to give in that easy.”

Hotch takes a shuddering breath in, feeling what tiny bit of energy he’d been holding on to draining from his body in the breath he lets back out. He’s been running on nothing but fumes for hours now, there’s nothing left but a soul-destroying helplessness, the knowledge that he can’t do anything until they get a solid lead, can’t risk following up on dead ends that take him away from Quantico, from home, from everything he associates with Spencer and everything he needs to be near for when Spencer comes back.

“I can’t lose him,” he whispers, and Morgan bites his lip when he sees several tears escape Hotch’s eyes. Perhaps worse than that is the fact that Hotch makes no move to wipe them away. Maybe he doesn’t even realise they’ve fallen in the first place.

“You won’t. We won’t,” he says, as assuring as he can, and while his relationship with God is rocky at best, right now he’d willingly pray every day for the rest of his life if it meant they got Spencer Reid back to them in one piece. He squeezes Hotch’s shoulder, waiting until his boss looks up to meet his eyes before he gives his best reassuring smile. “He knows how much you need him, Hotch. He’s not going anywhere.”

It takes a moment, but eventually, Hotch nods and Morgan feels like he can breathe again. He stands up, allowing the other man a moment to compose himself, before he offers a hand and pulls Hotch to his feet, giving him a second to get used to being upright again before he guides his friend over to the sinks so he can clean himself up.

Because that’s what he is, Morgan thinks as he ducks back into the stall to flush away the meagre amount of vomit still sitting in the toilet. Hotch is his friend first and foremost, and his boss second. Just the same as Reid is his best friend before he’s his colleague. The fact that these two people are married to each other matters so little usually, but right now it’s making an already unbearable situation so much worse.

As he leans against the main door of the bathroom, preventing anyone else from coming in, Morgan prays quietly that nothing he’s said turns out to be untrue. He doesn’t know how he’d go on in life if Reid wasn’t there to annoy the shit out of him every day with his facts and statistics, but Hotch… he doesn’t want to even think about what might happen to one of his oldest friends if he never sees his husband alive and in the flesh again.

He doesn’t know it then, but he will soon find out that it’s his first prayer of many.

He waits patiently for Hotch to regain the composure he needs to go back out into the bullpen, however briefly he will be there before Morgan can rally some backup to force him somewhere to lay down, since it’s clear he’s not going to be able to remain on his feet much longer if they don’t get him somewhere he can feel safe to sleep.

When the other man appears next to him, looking worn and weary and haggard; his eyes red and raw and tired, Morgan grasps shoulder and squeezes, looking directly into his eyes for a moment, before he opens the door and follows him back out to where the rest of the team are undoubtedly going to be waiting. He hopes there will be some good news; a new lead, a potential witness, something, anything that will lead them to wherever Spencer has been taken, but he knows deep down that all that will be waiting to greet them is worried faces and palpable fear hanging in the air all around.

God, please let Spencer Reid live.

~*~

Thousands of miles away, the man consuming everyone’s fears and thoughts, sits chained and unconscious in a stone-walled dungeon.

#I had way to much fun making the cover picture for this #lol can you tell #starzzy writes hotchreid #I've never posted a fic to tumblr before so pls let me know if there's anything I need to alter! #definitely don't think I'm posting any of the darker chapters here just in case #18+ only #whump #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #hotchreid #hotchreid fanfic #minors dni #wayhas

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

Summary:

Three little scenes on the theme of singing.

:) I was in the mood for something short and sweet. Hope you enjoy!

#gotta go back to work for a bit but i couldn't resist posting this as soon as i had a few free minutes #i originally meant to post these on here only but the middle vignette got away from me a bit. lol #i think the moment miles complained about rose humming is the moment that cemented my severe dislike of him. like. dude. #your girlfriend is snow-white mary poppins the most adorable princess ever #and you complain? that she hums??? im going to break your kneecaps???? #idk what else i can say about dorothy singing 'what'll i do'. that scene is everything it changed my life ngl #i guess i wanted a happier memory related to it than 'oh she sings it and then leaves forever four episodes later' #i hope rose's pov works well! i'm never quite sure about it. i should give a try to a whole fic in her pov soon #please tell me im not the only one who found blanche's beer jingle to be the sweetest thing ever. she sang it in such a soft voice #like it's funny ofc but i just melted #might be because im in love with her though #i always ramble in the tags when i post this stuff lmao. i hope you all have fun #hugs and kisses for you! #the golden girls #golden wives #writing

[hecksupremechips]

RE danganronpa not having the best writing I was talking to a friend the other day about v3 about how it sucks that they set up Kaede to be the protagonist but then killed her off because while yes, Shuichi is a very good protagonist and he’s the only one that really gets interesting character development, Kaede could have so easily been an insanely interesting protagonist if she got to live because she has plenty of room to grow since she’s very clearly scared shitless and is deeply insecure about her ability to motivate and lead the group, but she smiles through it and lies about her feelings so much that the player doesn’t even know about her creating an elaborate murder scheme. And I realized that the way to keep her as a protagonist is for there to be a way that the first trial ends and someone else is found to be the killer (for example it could be Tsumugi if she weren’t the mastermind, or maybe someone else was in the library and killed Rantaro) and they get executed and thats that. Then at the end of the chapter we get a scene where Kaede is alone in her room and sighs in relief as it’s revealed that she hatched an elaborate plan to kill the mastermind but she wasn’t found guilty, either because she wasn’t the actual killer or because she was being protected by the mastermind. And so we the player have to proceed with the new knowledge that Kaede not only wanted to kill someone, she actually went through with a whole plan to kill someone and we didn’t even know about it and neither did any of the characters. And Kaede is on edge because on one hand she has to live with the fact that she was perfectly okay becoming a killer and that she failed to kill the mastermind so the game is going to continue and someone else was unlucky and got executed instead of her,but on the other hand she’s relieved that she wasn’t the one who died and that she was given another chance to find the true mastermind and no one has to know what she did. And as the game progresses it gets more and more stressful for her because she tries to keep up the positive energy but she’s living with this massive secret and she can’t let anyone find out about what she did and she finds herself still wanting to kill the mastermind so we the player don’t know how much we can trust Kaede anymore since she’s lying to everyone including us and she can very well kill again if she wants to

#danganronpa #kaede akamatsu #of course we couldnt have something like this happen cuz yay misogyny killed kaede and also like mentioned #dr doesnt have good enough writing to pull this off lol #yttd is at least able to pull something similar off with sara so at least i have that but still god like can you IMAGINE #how good v3 wouldve been if it had done this and like what i think is really fun is like #shuichi figuring it out cuz you know he would hed know in the first trial but in this version doesnt say anything #and he doesnt have to cuz kaede conveniently isnt the culprit #but like now hes stuck with this knowledge that she so easily couldve been #and you know shuichi is just like that last person shed want to know about this #but shed also be eaten alive by guilt from keeping it from him cuz she trusts him most and was the one encouraging him to pursue the truth #even if its unpleasant #so i like to imagine one of two scenarios like either shuichi eventually confronts kaede about this after shes become a bit more corrupt #and he plans to tell and shes forced to kill him to keep her secret #or a scenario where shuichi chooses to protect kaede over the truth and he becomes her accomplice #both scenarios would fuck up kaede quite a bit #and then i guess itd be really interesting to see if she becomes more and more corrupt and eventually does get executed #or if she owns up to her mistakes and decides to reveal her truth that shes actually fucking terrified #and she doesnt have as much control as she wants to and she has no clue if its gonna be okay #i think that would fit so good with the truth/lie theme too #goddddd like im so mad now cuz this is just like so good like why cant dr just be good its so easy

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 15: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should purchase some new shoes for himself while he's in the city...

~

It costs quite a bit of coin, but in the end he decides that having a new sturdy pair of boots will serve him well on his travels. After he's done in the shop, he rushes back to the local inn before nightfall, eventually settling into a somewhat restless sleep..

The next morning, he orders some cheap vegetable stew from a food stall, then lounges in a park as he has his breakfast, watching the squirrels weave through flowering trees and birds pecking about in the dewy grass.. When finished with his meal (and sufficiently recovered from the emotional turmoil of burning his tongue on the soup), he quickly sells his old pair of shoes to a sketchy pawn shop before finally getting back to his journey...

By his calculations, if he he walks all day, it should only be two more sleeps before he gets to his destination, so he sets out to travel as efficiently as possible. He doesn't have the money to rent a cart, or the skill to ride a borrowed horse, but, he does have some fancy new walking shoes and a renewed sense of purpose. No more meandering through fields looking for flowers, napping in the shade, or scanning the ground for cool rocks.. He's going to focus this time!

......After a few hours, he comes across a broken down carriage in the middle of the road, with few people surrounding it, seemingly stuck trying to repair a wheel or something. It's hard to discern from afar..

Maybe if he helps them, he could get a free ride.. or some coins.. or make a new lifelong friend! Who knows? Possibilities flood his mind, this is what adventuring is all about! Wandering into interesting situations and making the most out of them!! .. But, then he recalls his previous oath.. he's supposed to focus today and not allow himself to sidetracked.. And who says he has the skills to help anyway? It could always just be a waste of time... Hmm...

What should he do?

~

~

Additional Information

the adventurer's current main quest: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has

#paventure posting #poll #polls #choose your own adventure #GHWOOPPPs yeah it's been an entire month basically since the last one ghj.. I said I was trying to get back on schedule.. idk what happened #I guess I initially thought that april would be a less busy month but then it actually ended up being MORE busy with a ton of appointments #and stuff so then I had like no time. on top of trying to get a lot of other stuff done... so.. eughhh #I DO STILL want to keepon track of this more though. I want to at least get him to the abandoned castle so he can complete #his quest. I think like. the first poll a lot of people seemed to like and care about and participate in so it was kind of like 'oh! cool! #it can be a fun collaborative story with a lot of people!' but then gradually less people participate or care so then I kind of allow mysel #to slack with it as well liike 'oh its fine if I miss a day or two here and there' which then turns into a month when I have other stuff #to do lol. Because it does still take time. like maybe 2 hours to put a post together. even if the art and writing is relatively rushed and #quick. Especially since polls are not editable once posted so half the time is just proofreading the post and tags 15 times #just to make super sure there's no errors or etc. lol.. But trying to clear two hours of time during an already hectic day for something #that generally speaking very few people are engaged with or care about at all when it's meant to be interactive (like with normal art #or costumes or other stuff I do - low interaction doesnt bother me since that's not the point/it's not as relevant. but with an actual poll #you do want like.. the most poeple possible to vote on it etc. lol) so it's like.. ehhh #I was originally thinking like 'oh i could do this for an entire year and tell like a whole story and it'd be cool to see where it ends #up eventually after so long and the community kind of choosing the direction of everything!' but now its like 'well people care significant #ly less about the following polls than they did the first one so maybe not As Big Of A Thing but I do at least want to finish the current #thing going on' etc. I mean if in the next few posts it becomes More Of A Thing then it's very fluid. I could do it for longer #but with the way things are looking it's like. is it worth the time investment when i ALSO have 800 other creative projects I'm meant to be #working on?? etc. etc. ANYWAY though.. Still there will probably be at least 10 or however many more since there's still like 1-2 more days #before he even gets to the castle plus then doing things AT the place. #I want to continue his journey!!!!! I also have just felt sick and weird and so unfocused for a while eughhh.. sorry #OO I almost forgot about his injury from the fight. i had to just add it in the last moment lol.. SEE this is why I proofread 100 times #I can't edit polls so they have to be Correct the first time.. ueghhh

[umbracirrus]

Ok!!! I'm not touching up the drawing any more.

Florian and Drissa, my heroes of Kvatch <3

#meg has done some drawing #hok oc Florian Livius #hok oc Drissa #you can tell that I drew these on different days lol. For some reason I was really feeling the 'thicker brush vibes' today with Florian #i've been having a lot of fun writing these two this past week and now drawing them too :3 #i also had a lot of fun drawing the curls of Florian's hair. But I also loved Drissa's scar and braid and ear piercings #for that matter I love giving my OCs ear piercings at the moment #florian is a guy who wants to redeem himself to make himself feel worthy of being by Martin's side. #Whereas Drissa just has a lot of pent up anger she lets out with fighting and just wants a family. And she gets what she wants. Kinda. Heh.

[theflyingfeeling]

Hi dear, so excited to see you doing Valentines promts again!

How about Olli/Allu having a very moomin date? 👀

Hiiiiii! I'm so excited to be writing these again! <3 Here it comes, my first Valentine's Day prompt fic of the season! ✨

First of all, I'm not sure if this is moominous enough for you, sweet anon, but I hope you like it nevertheless 💖

Second of all, this maaaaaaay have gotten a little out of hand, and not only in terms of the wordcount. You'll see what I'm talking about when you read it 🤭

It's kind of an AU, but nothing too specific, just your regular no-band AU in which Olli and Allu meet each other for the first time (in person). Again, read and find out 🙏

.

.

words: 5708 (see? unnecesarily long 🙄 so you better make yourself a nice cup of something and just sit back for this one!)

rating: something between G and T, I guess 😅

trigger warnings: none, but prepare for a whole lot of pining and a bit of sillyness, as per usual 🥰

edit. now also on AO3 💖

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Your Tinder date wants to take you where?”

Aleksi sighed as they stopped to wait for the traffic light to turn green.

“First of all, it’s not a date, and certainly not a Tinder one,” Aleksi corrected Niko for about the twelfth time that day. He still regretted telling his friend he was meeting this guy he had been chatting with on a discussion board almost daily for over a year. Too embarrassed to admit it was a platform for fantasy role play, Aleksi had seen it best to simply answer “online” when Niko had asked him how he had met Olli, which naturally had led to Niko promptly deciding “online” equalled a dating app. “Second of all, I don’t think he’s actually taking me to the Moomin Café, we’re only meeting there.”

“Of all the places in the city?” 

“It’s a recognizable landmark!” Aleksi exclaimed and proceeded to picture the two-metre Moomin statue that stood in front of the theme café dedicated to beloved literature characters. With a small smile forming on his lips, he then imagined his internet friend waiting for him beside it, hopefully wearing the cool leather jacket Aleksi had seen in pictures, and was almost left behind when Niko suddenly jaywalked across the street.

“Still,” his friend said when Aleksi strode to catch him up, “the place doesn’t exactly ooze romance.”

“I told you, it’s not–”

“Not a date? Then why on earth did you send me all those selfies of you posing in different outfits, asking for my opinion? I’ve never seen you want to impress anyone that bad without hoping to get in their Moomin sheets.”

“I’m not– wait, what?” Aleksi turned to look at Niko to see the man hardly able to hide his amusement.

“Well, since he’s taking you to a Moomin café I suppose he also has–”

“Just– just shut up, okay? Whatever he has in his bed is irrelevant because we are not–” Aleksi’s heart almost stopped when his eyes spotted the enormous Moomintroll down the boulevard and, indeed, a man he recognized as Olli standing next to it. To Aleksi’s mild disappointment, Olli wasn’t wearing the leather jacket but a simple outfit of black pants, a white t-shirt and what seemed to be a bucket hat on his head. He had a searching look in his eyes, stopping to glance at almost every passerby as his fingers fumbled with the zipper of the waist bag he was wearing across his chest.

“Is that him?” Niko whispered as they approached the front of the café.

“Y-yeah,” Aleksi said and cleared his throat, surprised to hear his own voice come out so hoarse and breathless, just because he caught a glimpse of his long-time internet friend for the first time in person.

All the way walking downtown, Aleksi had been annoyed by Niko’s insinuations about the date (which was not a date) with his online boyfriend (who was not his boyfriend), all the while trying to calm down the strange feeling in his stomach that he tried to explain with having drank too much coffee at breakfast (which he chalked up to barely having slept the previous night (because his head had been full of Olli and his rosy cheeks and gentle eyes until dawn, stuck in his mind after they had said goodnight to each other on Skype at two in the morning)). He had rolled his eyes at Niko’s merciless teasing, because there was no way he was going to admit he had been counting the days until they’d finally see each other face-to-face, sighing longingly or giggling into his pillow whenever he imagined even standing in front of Olli, mere metres away from all that charm and beauty that had Aleksi forget his lines during role play or smile to himself when he saw something that reminded him of Olli.

Maybe he’d even be bold enough to hug him. From Olli’s Instagram Aleksi had gathered Olli didn’t shy away from physical endearments, at least not with that curly-head blond Olli had told him was his best and oldest friend – “like a brother,” Olli had said, and Aleksi tried to ignore why hearing that had been such a relief – but of course Aleksi couldn’t know whether being physically affectionate applied only to Olli’s closest friends. He wouldn’t blame Olli for wanting to just nod at him from a respectful distance on their first meeting; he was still, all things considered, just some random dude he had started speaking with on the internet one blessed day.

They were roughly ten metres away from the entrance of the café when Olli finally noticed him. When their eyes met each other, the curve of Olli’s eyebrows softened and his lips parted, but then he directed his gaze to Niko walking next to Aleksi, and suddenly he looked just as lost and nervous as he had just moments before while he had been waiting for Aleksi to show up.

“Right, I guess this is where I leave you to it. If he turns out to be a serial killer or some other kinda lunatic, just give me a call and I’ll come rescue you, yeah?” Niko tapped Aleksi’s shoulder and skipped to the other side of the street before Aleksi could argue that he was pretty convinced Olli was neither of those things and that he wouldn't need to be rescued, thank you very much.

Aleksi saw Olli’s shoulders relax as he walked closer, then his lips starting to curve upwards. When there were only a few metres separating them, Olli glanced at the ground before looking up at Aleksi again, no longer able to hide his smile. 

“Hi,” Olli said softly and stretched out his arms towards Aleksi.

“Hi,” Aleksi sighed, and when Olli pulled him into a hug he was sure he was going to cry. Olli felt as soft as he looked and smelled even better than what Aleksi had imagined in his head, of honey and perhaps a hint of citrus. 

“So good to see you,” Olli said, much closer to Aleksi’s ear than he had anticipated, so close that it gave him goosebumps, even though in Olli’s embrace he felt warmer than he ever had in his life before.

“Yes, at last,” Aleksi agreed. All the sudden dopamine in his system made him so daring that he nudged the side of Olli’s head with his, causing the man’s hat to fall off. 

“Woops,” Olli laughed as he noticed the impact their embrace had on his headwear and finally let go of Aleksi.

“Sorry,” Aleksi smiled, crouching to pick up the hat. Handing it back to Olli, he noticed the Moomin character embroidered on it.

In his mind, he saw Niko raising his eyebrows knowingly.

“Shall we go in? They have an offer on cinnamon rolls today.”

Did I not tell you so? Aleksi heard Niko’s voice in his head. 

Yeah, and? Aleksi telepathically replied to his friend; with the way Olli was smiling at him, a little shy and his Groke bucket hat somewhat askew as he held the door to the café open for him, Aleksi would’ve walked through the gates of Hell if that’s where Olli wanted to take him.

Aleksi nearly gasped when Olli touched his lower black lightly as they entered the café, gently guiding him forward to the cosy coffee shop that filled Aleksi’s nostrils with the mixed aroma of brewed goods and freshly-baked bun. They didn’t say much as they stood in the queue to the counter, just sort of smiled at each other, and Aleksi wanted so much to pull Olli in for another hug or at least hold his hand a little.

“So, umm, who was that, by the way? The guy you came with,” Olli broke the silence between them. Aleksi was in a hurry to answer when he noticed Olli’s smile had begun to falter.

“Ah, that was just my friend Niko. He insisted on escorting me, like some sort of…chaperone. He once had a Grindr hook-up steal his sunglasses, so he doesn’t trust anyone he meets online anymore.”

(There was no point arguing with Niko that maybe he had just lost them himself, because why would someone run off with children’s heart-shaped sunglasses that were no use for anything, least of all for blocking the sun, as the lenses were glittery and tinted pink.)

“Oh, so he’s like Joonas,” Olli rolled his eyes. “I believe he’s sitting in that Starbucks on the other side of the street spying on us, in case you decide to brutally murder me in broad daylight.”

“I guess that just means they love us?” Aleksi shrugged amusedly. 

“I suppose so, but why they gotta be so weird about it?” Olli laughed and shook his head. His sunkissed curls swayed on his forehead, and Aleksi felt the same urge to sweep them off with his fingers (or with his lips maybe) that he had often felt when they had been laughing together at something silly via Skype. Olli probably noticed his dreamy expression, as he was soon to smile at the floor below their feet, an attractive blush spreading to his cheeks which looked even more velvety in real life.

It seemed they had winded up in the middle of the worst rush hour at the coffee shop, for it took them several minutes to reach the edge of the counter. When they finally did, Olli turned his back to Aleksi to get a tray from under it, revealing the illustration on the back of his shirt. Aleksi remembered having seen that exact t-shirt on Olli before, with the small text on the left side of his chest, so he was taken by surprise staring at the print of a mountain and a rainbow peeking from behind it.

“So, umm, do you come here often?” Aleksi asked, thinking it would be a less awkward conversation starter than “nice shirt”, which would’ve only revealed Aleksi had been checking out his backside (which was quite nice, there was no denying that), but then he realised how tacky the opening line he had gone for must have sounded; he had heard Niko hitting on unsuspecting guys and girls at the bar with that exact question every Friday night.

For that reason, Aleksi sighed in relief when Olli turned back to look at him with a small smile, neither embarrassed nor bothered by his corny (but accidental) pick-up line.

“Every now and then. Their muddler cake is heavenly,” Olli replied, then added in a lower voice: “although it is quite pricey.”

“Their what cake?”

“Muddler cake!” Olli beamed. “It’s like mud cake, but, you know…. Muddler,” Olli then pointed at the stack of Moomin mugs in front of them, his index finger directing Aleksi’s gaze to a purplish mug with a character wearing a saucepan for a hat.

“That’s a… muddler?”

“Yeah.” Olli’s grin was even wider when he picked the mug up and set it down on the tray. “And that’s his sweetheart, Fuzzy.” Olli showed Aleksi a pink mug with a character in a wedding gown decorating its side.

“Should I get that one then?” Aleksi smirked, hoping the flirt (this time intentional) would not go unnoticed by the other man.

“Actually I have something else in mind for you, hold on…”

Aleksi watched as Olli eyed the collection of mugs in different colours until his finger stopped at another one of purple colour. Aleksi couldn’t pride himself on knowing a whole lot about Moomins, but even he could identify the character on this one as Hemulen, the philatelist friend of the Moomin family.

“Hemulen? Care to tell me why?” Aleksi inquired, squinting his eyes at Olli, whose smile went from ear to ear by then.

“Well, you know, ‘cause he’s… bald. Like you.” The restrained laughter was obvious in Olli’s voice.

“You’re comparing my appearance to that of a hemulen?! I could so easily be offended, you know. I thought we had moved on from the bald jokes by now.” Aleksi sniffed dramatically, although he could no longer force back his own smile. He had gotten used to his friends ridiculing his new haircut weeks ago already.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. To be fair, you look nothing alike: at least Hemulen has some hair on his head.”

“You better be paying for those overpriced muddler cakes,” Aleksi muttered, pretending to appear insulted but failing horribly, judging by Olli’s heartfelt giggles. 

“Oh, that goes without saying. You can actually go and find us a table, I’ll order and pay.”

Aleksi left Olli at the counter and hurried to claim the window table for two that had just become vacant. He gently removed the Moominpappa plushie that was sitting on the other seat and put it on the windowsill. While Olli was making their order of muddler cake and possibly some other Moomin-themed treats, Aleksi stared out the window to watch the people passing by, although he hardly registered anything he was seeing.

He had been too nervous to confess his feelings to Olli via web camera, too afraid of rejection, too anxious when thinking about the possibility of Olli laughing it off instead of returning his feelings. Many times he had broken his own heart by imagining how Olli would’ve been outraged by Aleksi claiming to have a crush on him when they had never hung out in person, or how Aleksi would make it awkward by having assumed Olli was into guys when they had never really had that talk. It wasn’t long ago since Aleksi had come out of the closet to his family and closest friends, so he was still a little cautious about who he confided in and was yet to figure out how to bring it up in a casual conversation without being too blunt or clumsy about it, but he had tried dropping subtle hints along the way. While he wasn’t sure of Olli’s orientation yet, he couldn’t help but hope that the lingering looks and the rainbow on his shirt meant something.

Before Aleksi could allow his mind to wander too far from his current reality, Olli appeared opposite him with a soft oof as he set the tray on the table between them. On two plates there were pieces of the alleged muddler cake, and on a third there was a large cinnamon roll for them to share, Aleksi assumed. The Moomin mugs Olli had chosen for them were now filled, with Moomin characters drawn on the creamy topping. Aleksi noticed one of them had a small heart next to Moomintroll’s head, a detail the beverage Olli claimed for himself was missing.

He mentally added it to the list of Possible Signs He Likes Me Too (But Let’s Not Get Our Hopes Up). 

“Mmmmh,” Olli hummed when he sipped his coffee. The cream left a small white line above Olli’s upper lip, on the tufts of facial hair he was sporting there. The sight was too adorable for Aleksi to say anything about it.

“It’s so nice to finally hang out,” he said instead.

“It really is,” Olli agreed. “And to think we live so close to each other, what took us so long?” he chuckled into his cup, making the cream on top of it waver.

“I know, right?” Aleksi chuckled back, albeit knowing exactly why, at least on his part: he had been scared of appearing too eager or too creepy or too anything to suggest they meet face-to-face, until Olli himself had brought it up the other day.

He had to take a sip from his own mug to gain more courage for what he was about to say next.

“You know, I… I’ve been looking forward to this ever since we made the plans. I really enjoy your company.”

Olli stopped forking his chocolate cake to look into Aleksi’s eyes, his features so soft and endearing Aleksi wanted to lean over the table and snog him silly already.

“Me too,” Olli replied, and suddenly it wasn’t only the coffee warming up Aleksi’s insides. “In fact, I…” Olli laughed shortly and turned to admire the pastry on his plate again, “I’ve been so excited I’ve hardly slept lately.”

“Oh,” Aleksi said, because oh. “I mean, you too?”

“Yeah,” Olli laughed bashfully, and there was clearly something extremely interesting in his muddler cake, as his gaze was nailed to the plate. “I can only hope my poor neighbour downstairs hasn’t made a complaint about me for stomping around in the middle of the night.”

The image of Olli pacing back and forth his living room with an expression not unlike the one Aleksi had seen on his face outside the café, just because he was too thrilled about their date-that-was-not-a-date, made Aleksi fall for the man even harder, for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. As far as Aleksi knew, no one had ever felt that way about seeing him before, or at least no one had ever confessed it to his face.

“Well. Now we’re here,” Aleksi smiled at the man, almost crossing his fingers under the table in a prayer for Olli to look up at him again and make him feel those sweet little butterflies in his stomach once more.

His wish was granted when Olli did exactly that, his smile cuter than ever, if that was even possible.

“Yes. Here we are.”

After the sort-of confessions and the slight awkwardness was over and done with, their still-not-a-date-but-kinda-starting-to-look-like-one advance more relaxedly as they moved on to talk about the topics they usually discussed, from music to sci-fi movies to their favourite show wrestlers, until both their mugs were empty and there was nothing but crumbs left on their plates. They had spent over an hour just chattering away, but then Olli glanced at his watch and the approach of their inevitable parting began to hollow out Aleksi’s chest.

“I’m sorry, I’ve kept you to myself for too long, you must have other things to do today,” Aleksi said, although he would’ve done anything to keep Olli to himself just a little longer.

“I don’t, actually. Nothing but a pile of laundry waiting for me at home,” Olli answered as they stood up. The black bucket hat Olli put back on his curly head had seemed a little silly to Aleksi at first, but now he wished he wouldn’t have to let it out of his sight. “What about you? Any plans for the evening?”

“No, not really. But I should be going back home soon, or else Rilla will sulk at me for the rest of the day.”

Olli’s eyes brightened at the mention of the dog. “Oh, Rilla! I wish I could meet her too one day, I always love it when you show her on Skype.”

A wild thought popped up in Aleksi’s head; a silly, unimaginable, and completely absurd thought, but he decided to give it a try anyway.

(Niko wouldn’t have to know.)

“Why don’t you come and meet her now? My place is only a short bus drive away. That is, if you think your pile of laundry can wait a little longer still.”

The Groke hat did an excellent job at shading half of Olli’s face when they stepped outside in the sun, but Aleksi could still make out the smile sneaking on Olli’s lips, slowly but surely.

“I suppose the dirty socks won’t miss me too much.”

~

Niko would be disappointed if he knew, Aleksi thought to himself almost the first thing he opened his eyes the next morning.

Almost, because his first thought had been how cute Olli’s little snores sounded next to him.

His second thought had been how soft Olli’s hair looked, dishevelled and covering his eyes, before Aleksi had reached his hand to sink his fingers in it to discover it was exactly as soft as it looked.

And his third thought had been how enticing Olli’s lips were, how heavenly they had felt against his own the night before, how he couldn’t wait until Olli woke up so he could get a taste of them again.

Then, maybe as his fourth thought of the day, he could spare one for his poor friend, who only wanted the best for him. However, considering Olli was yet to show his homicidal tendencies by stabbing him with a kitchen knife, ransacking his entire house and kidnapping Rilla, Aleksi allowed himself to bask in the knowledge that Niko had been wrong, for once in his life.

They had entered the house with Rilla barking at Olli and Olli awwing at Rilla, until they had come to a mutual agreement of liking each other a lot, or so Aleksi gathered by the way they had later that evening snuggled on Aleksi’s sofa, almost making him feel like the third wheel. Aleksi had cooked them pasta for dinner and they had walked Rilla at sunset, admiring the colour of the horizon and finally holding hands when they had turned back home at the end of Aleksi’s street. Glasses of red wine had been poured and long, yearning looks had been exchanged as they had sat around Aleksi’s kitchen table until the wee hours, talking and laughing and simply enjoying each other’s company, after months of wanting to do nothing but that, but somehow both of them being too afraid to make the first move, as Aleksi had figured by then. 

Olli had already been on his way to the front door, out of Aleksi’s desperate reach, but something had stopped him, had made him stay, made him linger in Aleksi’s touch when they had hugged one last time. 

Aleksi’s breath had caught up in his throat and all his thoughts had fallen out of his useless head when Olli had glanced at his lips once, twice, perhaps a third time if Aleksi had given him the chance before bringing his own to Olli’s; he could no longer stand just imagining what kissing Olli would be like.

Now he knew; soft and delicate at first, almost hesitant, until Olli would wrap his arms firmly around Aleksi’s body and devour him, push himself even closer to Aleksi, despite the fact they were already pressed tightly together, skin on skin, mouth to mouth, heart to heart.

The bed had creaked when they had fallen on it, but soon after the room had been filled with entirely different kinds of sounds. If Aleksi wasn’t still flying high on the euphoria he had felt then, he might have been embarrassed about how needy he must have sounded. Instead, he was comforted by finally being sure Olli shared his sentiments, needed him close just as much as he needed Olli. Aleksi almost laughed out loud when he thought back to all that pining and wondering he had gone through over the past months, blind to the fact it had all been mutual; that Olli had felt exactly the same all along. 

Now, with the dawn already greeting them behind the curtains of Aleksi’s bedroom, Aleksi smiled as his unexpected (but oh so desired) overnight guest shifted beside him, nuzzling his cheek against the pillow. 

“Are you awake yet?” Aleksi asked him.

“Mmmmmmmhhhh,” Olli groaned in a way that sure awoke certain places of Aleksi’s body. “Maybe.” Olli’s speech was muffled by the pillow.

“Well, I suppose you’ll let me know when you’re awake enough to continue where we left off last night. I’m kinda missing those lips of yours, you know.”

Said lips then curved into a lazy grin (and almost burst Aleksi’s heart with bliss when doing so).

“C’mere then,” the lips mumbled, and Aleksi didn’t need to be told twice.

His plan of spending the morning in bed uninterrupted was threatened, however, when he heard a quiet ping from his bedside table.

Accompanied by loud objections from Olli below him, Aleksi reached for his phone to find a notification from a new WhatsApp message from Niko.

How did the Tinder date go? Please answer or I’ll assume you’re lying dead in a dumpster.

Aleksi giggled while writing his reply, with Olli peppering his chest with small kisses.

It was… Moominous 😏

Then Aleksi put his phone on silent, leaving Niko to wonder what ever he meant by that, and turned his attention back to something a little more urgent.

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[Meanwhile at the Starbucks across the street:]

The moment he stepped in the coffee shop and saw the man sitting by the window, Niko recognized him immediately; the bright blonde curls, the expressive blue eyes, and the plump red lips that were now pursed around a straw instead of Niko’s dick. The man was even wearing the same DIY style jean jacket he had thrown on the floor of Niko’s bedroom when they had made haste to undress each other on that steamy summer evening some weeks ago. The name scribbled on the plastic cup he was holding also matched the one imprinted on Niko’s memory.

On his forehead, half buried in the fluff of messy curls, Niko spotted a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses.

“You!” Niko gnarled at Joonas, who slowly moved his gaze from the window to Niko’s direction.

“Huh?”

“Thief!” Niko spat once he was standing next to Joonas’ table. It appeared seeing the man again after that night triggered something in him that resulted in only being able to form single-word sentences.

“Excuse me?” The way Joonas squinted his eyes told Niko his face didn’t ring a bell to him.

“Those are mine!” He pointed at the sunglasses resting on Joonas’ locks.

“Ummm, no they’re not? Also, who are you again?”

Niko clenched his fists; the audacity of this man, first for taking possession of his property, and secondly for not even remembering “the best cock he had ever had”.

“Those are my sunglasses that you stole from me after you… you know, after we…” Niko was hesitant to continue, nodding politely at the couple with two young kids in the next table following the scene with disapproval written on their faces.

“...After you ran away from wherever they were keeping you and you mistook me for someone else?” Joonas offered unhelpfully, a mix of confusion and amusement gleaming in his big, annoyingly alluring eyes.

Pure spite had Niko leaning in to whisper in Joonas’ ear.

“Don’t you dare pretend you don’t remember me when I milked you so good you probably couldn’t remember your own mother’s name for days afterwards.”

Niko closed his eyes and bit his lip when he felt Joonas’ hot breath in his ear, memories of their night together coming rushing back and going straight to his groin.

“Bold of you to assume that doesn’t happen to me every Saturday night.”

“You are unbelievable,” Niko growled back before standing up. “I’m afraid that makes little difference though. I’m here to collect back what’s mine, whether you plead guilty or not.” He straightened his hand towards Joonas as a request to be handed back his stolen possessions.

“Wait, are you actually being serious? You really think I’ve taken your sunglasses?”

“I know you’ve taken them!”

“I’ve never met you in my life, you madman!” Joonas insisted with creases on his forehead as he stood up and headed to the door. Niko followed him outside, not wanting to let those sunglasses out of his sight again.

“I don’t know what you were on that night to have been blessed with such a severe amnesia, but we have met before!”

“May I inquire where or when you think that happened?” Joonas’  lopsided grin was just as charming as the first time Niko had seen it. It made him furious.

“A couple of weeks ago. At that new LGBTQ club. After… after you DMed me on Grindr.”

“The Queer Room?” Joonas appeared to be racking his brain for a moment, then he shrugged. “Sorry, honey. I can’t say you’re the first guy with whom I’ve been palling around there.”

Joonas’s face looked genuinely apologetic, which made Niko wonder if he really was as clueless as he seemed, or whether he himself had imagined the whole encounter in his daydreams.

Still, it didn’t solve the mystery of his missing sunglasses, the sunglasses he was sure were the exact same ones the blond guy was now lowering on his nose.

“I guess you’re just gonna have to refresh my memory,” Joonas flashed that awful, sly, stunning smile of his again. 

“You wish.”

“Suit yourself,” Joonas shrugged again. “See you later, strange sunglass gu–”

Niko was livid at himself, for letting himself be bullied to take such desperate measures, but the deeper he stuck his tongue down Joonas’ luscious mouth, the more of it he wanted, had wanted since Joonas had sloppily kissed him goodbye before stumbling out of his bedroom.

They were both a little breathless when they broke the kiss. It took a while for Niko to realise Joonas was still holding Niko’s lower lip in between his teeth, until the man sucked on them one more time before letting Niko go. Niko’s own fists were still gripping the collar of Joonas’ jean jacket tightly.

“Wow. I can’t believe you actually gave in.”

…Wait.

“What?!”

“And I can’t believe you fell for that? Man, the Theatre Academy has no idea what they missed when they rejected me,” Joonas chuckled, wiping his mouth.

“You–” Niko let go of the man to inhale and exhale a few times before continuing, “you do remember me.”

Joonas tilted his head. “Oh, babes, I saw you bounce across the street before you walked in.” Then he lifted his hand to touch Niko’s chin. “I was instantly reminded of the night we shared.”

“Yet you have no memory of committing a theft?” Niko crossed his arms on his chest and lifted his chin to meet Joonas’ stare.

“That I genuinely don’t, because it never happened. Maybe this is just your subconscious telling you you miss me…”

“Oh, fuck off,” Niko snapped, trying to ignore Joonas’ hand sneaking on his hip. “The only thing I’m missing from that night are my fucking sunglasses!”

His outburst made Joonas sigh and roll his eyes. “Clearly you are not ready to consider the possibility we might own identical ones and that yours are just somewhere in your car or apartment.”

“Clearly you’re not ready to admit you mistook those as yours and just took them without asking!”

“Look,” Joonas moved his hand on Niko’s shoulder, “we could do this the whole day. Let’s just go to your apartment and–”

“So that you can steal more of my property?!”

“–AND I will help you find your stupid sunglasses! Since they’re so goddamn important to you.”

The thing was, they weren’t even particularly dear to Niko; in fact, they were more or less a kids’ toy, something he had bought as a joke when tipsy from margaritas, and pretty much useless if you needed something to shade your eyes from the sun. It was more about principle and dignity than anything else. (Tommi had not stopped giving him shit ever since Niko had told him about the incident.)

“And also to prove my innocence,” Joonas added, his lips pouting.

“Something tells me you haven’t been innocent since you came out of your mother’s–”

“You leave my mom out of this!” Joonas yelled at him from behind him when Niko began walking towards the bus stop. He made sure to wipe his smile off by the time Joonas caught him up.

~

“Where have you seen them last?” Joonas asked. They had been rummaging through Niko’s two-room for nearly ten minutes, and still the only pair of heart-shaped sunglasses they had seen were the ones sitting on Joonas’ head.

“On that chair in the hallway. Where you took them from.”

“Oh, just drop it already,” Joonas frowned. “You do realise I have things to do and places to be, yet I’m here helping you put your mind at ease about this puzzle, out of the pure kindness of my heart?”

The remark made Niko’s mouth snap shut. If (if!) Joonas was being truthful and knew nothing about Niko’s glasses, it truly was rather considerate of him to be there with Niko, turning his apartment upside down in search of the cursed piece of accessory, even if he also had his own reputation at stake.

“Well, they’re not under the sofa cushions either,” Joonas sighed and threw them back on the couch before slumping on them himself. “Is there a place we still haven’t looked?”

“I doubt they’re in the oven or in the bathroom sink cabin.”

“Oh, I’d check those too if I were you, just to be sure. You don’t wanna know where my friend Olli once found his phone after an unusually wet night out.”

Joonas’ anecdotes, as intriguing as they were, were of little help in their current task, so Niko decided he’s better off not knowing indeed.

“Did you check all your pockets yet? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve panicked, thinking my wallet’s been stolen when I had just forgotten it in the breast pocket of another jacket.”

“They’re not in my pockets.”

“Did you check though?”

Niko groaned at Joonas’ persistent eyebrow raise, but turned on his heels nevertheless. Once in the doorway, he started groping the jackets and shirts hanging from the coat rack.

“They’re not in my pockets, because I never put them in my–”

His hand touched something hard inside his grey hoodie, making him freeze.

Because he never did put his sunglasses in his pocket, not since his new Ray Bans had dropped on the pavement and broken into pieces. However, there they were, as if by some miracle, even though Niko could’ve sworn over his 00s nü metal CD collection that he had not put them there.

Or… maybe he had? His brain was too confused to make any sense of the situation.

“Oh, hey, you found them!” Joonas rejoiced as he joined Niko in the dim hallway. “Well, looks like you owe me an apology.”

The smile on Joonas’ lips was sweet as ever, and Niko couldn’t wait to wipe it off.

“Oh, I‘ll show you an apology,” he murmured and began pushing Joonas towards the bedroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s notes:

Aaaaahh it’s been a while since I last wrote an “after-credits” scene 🥰

I wanted to include Aleksi’s Moomin sheets somehow but I couldn’t think of a convenient way to do that (i.e. I didn’t want to make the fic any longer than it already was), so you’re just gonna have to do the job yourself and imagine they woke up in Aleksi’s Moomin sheets 💕

Muddler / Fuzzy / Hemulen (the new Hemulen one looks so nice 😍)

Moomin coffee art

The Moomin Café referenced here is partly a product of my imagination. The only Moomin café in Finland at the moment is at the Helsinki-Vantaa international airport. There used to be one in Helsinki but it was closed during the covid lockdown and from what I've heard/seen, they did have Moomin mugs (duh!), gigantic cinnamon rolls, and Moomin plushies that you could position on the chairs to keep you company (I never had the chance to go there 😔). I assume the Moominworld theme park in Naantali also has some kinda Moomin café (I’ve never been there either :\)

Muddler cake -> not a thing, I completely made that one up 😂 It’s ridiculous, I know, but I just couldn’t help myself with the word play!

...Sooooo, did the incident with the heart-shaped sunglasses go as told here, or did Joonas actually take Niko’s by accident, not realising this until he was at home, and then proceeded to keep them with him at all times in case he’d run into Niko again (let’s assume they hadn’t exchanged numbers and Niko had been so outraged about his stolen sunglasses that he had deleted Grindr) and then just put them in Niko’s pocket when Niko wasn’t looking, because why should he just admit he had taken them, especially with Niko storming in the Starbucks accusing him of theft, when he could play with Niko a little instead? Who knows 😏)

#blind channel rpf #blind channel fanfiction #valentine's day fluff by theflyingfeeling #(yes i'm using the same tag as last year because i'm ~lazy~) #not sure when i'll post the next one. could be tomorrow could be a week from now. who knows? not i! stay tuned 😘 #also i'm not sure if i'm able to finish all the prompts before february 14 but i'll try. but remember: every day can be valentine's day! 💕 #btw before y'all think i'm some kinda valentine's day maniac: i'm not 😂 i'm just a sucker for romantic fluff lol #(in finland valentine's day is celebrated as ''friend's day'') #also: i don't make moodboards (i mean. writing takes me long enough so i don't need moodboard stress on top of that) #but DAMN if i wasn't tempted to make one for this! #anyway. can you tell i had maybe a little too much fun writing this? 😂 #i hope you'll have fun reading 💗 #ollixallu

[theangrypomeranian]

tfw you've been thinking about deleting your most popular fic from a past fandom

#sally speaks #look #i know everyone over there loves it for some reason #but it's really not good #like at all #the pace is choppy #the tone is all over the place #and there are so many embarrassing simple writing mistakes #not to mention plot holes that the whole fic could fall into #(and ngl it kinda did lol) #and I've grown past the need to keep it up for numbers #idgaf about fandom fame anymore #i write for me now i write to have fun #and imo if you read the fic you can tell that i wasn’t that into it and was just writing it to get it over with #idk man #i just don't really like it much anymore #and i REALLY don't want to have anything to do with that fandom anymore #I've taken big steps to distance myself from that fandom but that fic makes me feel stuck #i had good times and memories but i need to move on #idkidk #god I missed just screaming into the void here lol

[blinkbones]

hey ofmd fandom. have a writing warmup that turned out alright Jim/Oluwande post s1 stuff for a "fear" prompt. hope u like <3

Finding their way back to the ship was no relief, even when they were all allowed on board again—all but Stede. Which meant that most of the other outcasts had stuck to him, but… he had been unable to. Not with Jim stuck there.

They were, perhaps, the scariest part of all this. Now, this should not have been a surprise: Jim’s homicidal potential had been long established, and their mere presence should, by all means, have been enough to make anyone uneasy. But of course, they were also his partner, the tender wolf kissing his cheekbones and stroking his neck where the pulse would always jump into disarray. Oluwande trusted them to be on his side, as much as he trusted their competence with a knife. He had seen it first hand many times—ghost-quiet, a spirit made of sharp wind. They would have that steely stability of absolute focus in the way they moved that reminded him of a buzzard. It had been hot to look at, many times. One cannot overstate the pull of attraction of a very dangerous creature that knows what it is that they are doing, and are oh-so-good at it.

Or so you would think.

In this new context, Jim was in that state of keen battlefield awareness, perpetually. The enticement was gone; instead, Oluwande felt a mixture of sadness and dread, topped with the occasional spikes of terror that had him reevaluate his ability to swim. Jim looked tired. A few thin lines of stress had been permanently folded into the sides of their eyes. Another ran up the space between their eyebrows. Their jaw had a constant tension in it, like the next punch could hit at any point.

(To be fair to them, they had been hiding it exceptionally well. The only reason that Olu had noticed at all, was because he spent such an inordinate amount of time and energy paying attention to them.)

The implications were frightening.

#is this too short for a read more? i played it safe #our flag means death #jim jimenez #oluwande boodhari #ofmd oluwande #ofmd jim #ofmd fanfic #ofmd fic #ofmd #my writing #jim x oluwande #oluwande x jim #if i have to type anymore similar tags my eyes will cross #anyway. correct my english? YES critique my writing? not here. this is sketchbook equivalent and i barely checked for typos #i mean. if u WANT to critique it's fine i dont mind. i just think this aint worth it LOL #my english tho... always........ please. #also fun fact: i had to google both of their names lmfao #such a poser i am #i am SO tired i honestly cant think of any etiquette thign i might want to check i did right. and u can tell im tired because im hardcore #--rambling. yeah. yeah. author is half asleep in the tags. it happens #im just concerned about etiquette because fandom is.... stressful #anyway. if u read this snippet i love u bye #my posts

[alfheimr]

My Favorite Cheap Art Trick: Gradient Maps and Blending Modes

i get questions on occasion regarding my coloring process, so i thought i would do a bit of a write up on my "secret technique." i don't think it really is that much of a secret, but i hope it can be helpful to someone. to that end:

this is one of my favorite tags ive ever gotten on my art. i think of it often. the pieces in question are all monochrome - sort of.

the left version is the final version, the right version is technically the original. in the final version, to me, the blues are pretty stark, while the greens and magentas are less so. there is some color theory thing going on here that i dont have a good cerebral understanding of and i wont pretend otherwise. i think i watched a youtube video on it once but it went in one ear and out the other. i just pick whatever colors look nicest based on whatever vibe im going for.

this one is more subtle, i think. can you tell the difference? there's nothing wrong with 100% greyscale art, but i like the depth that adding just a hint of color can bring.

i'll note that the examples i'll be using in this post all began as purely greyscale, but this is a process i use for just about every piece of art i make, including the full color ones. i'll use the recent mithrun art i made to demonstrate. additionally, i use clip studio paint, but the general concept should be transferable to other art programs.

for fun let's just start with Making The Picture. i've been thinking of making this writeup for a while and had it in mind while drawing this piece. beyond that, i didn't really have much of a plan for this outside of "mithrun looks down and hair goes woosh." i also really like all of the vertical lines in the canary uniform so i wanted to include those too but like. gone a little hog wild. that is the extent of my "concept." i do not remember why i had the thought of integrating a shattered mirror type of theme. i think i wanted to distract a bit from the awkward pose and cover it up some LOL but anyway. this lack of planning or thought will come into play later.

note 1: the textured marker brush i specifically use is the "bordered light marker" from daub. it is one of my favorite brushes in the history of forever and the daub mega brush pack is one of the best purchases ive ever made. highly recommend!!!

note 2: "what do you mean by exclusion and difference?" they are layer blending modes and not important to the overall lesson of this post but for transparency i wanted to say how i got these "effects." anyway!

with the background figured out, this is the point at which i generally merge all of my layers, duplicate said merged layer, and Then i begin experimenting with gradient maps. what are gradient maps?

the basic gist is that gradient maps replace the colors of an image based on their value.

so, with this particular gradient map, black will be replaced with that orangey red tone, white will be replaced with the seafoamy green tone, etc. this particular gradient map i'm using as an example is very bright and saturated, but the colors can be literally anything.

these two sets are the ones i use most. they can be downloaded for free here and here if you have csp. there are many gradient map sets out there. and you can make your own!

you can apply a gradient map directly onto a specific layer in csp by going to edit>tonal correction>gradient map. to apply one indirectly, you can use a correction layer through layer>new correction layer>gradient map. honestly, correction layers are probably the better way to go, because you can adjust your gradient map whenever you want after creating the layer, whereas if you directly apply a gradient map to a layer thats like. it. it's done. if you want to make changes to the applied gradient map, you have to undo it and then reapply it. i don't use correction layers because i am old and stuck in my ways, but it's good to know what your options are.

this is what a correction layer looks like. it sits on top and applies the gradient map to the layers underneath it, so you can also change the layers beneath however and whenever you want. you can adjust the gradient map by double clicking the layer. there are also correction layers for tone curves, brightness/contrast, etc. many such useful things in this program.

let's see how mithrun looks when we apply that first gradient map we looked at.

gadzooks. apologies for eyestrain. we have turned mithrun into a neon hellscape, which might work for some pieces, but not this one. we can fix that by changing the layer blending mode, aka this laundry list of words:

some of them are self explanatory, like darken and lighten, while some of them i genuinely don't understand how they are meant to work and couldn't explain them to you, even if i do use them. i'm sure someone out there has written out an explanation for each and every one of them, but i've learned primarily by clicking on them to see what they do.

for the topic of this post, the blending mode of interest is soft light. so let's take hotline miamithrun and change the layer blending mode to soft light.

here it is at 100% opacity. this is the point at which i'd like to explain why i like using textured brushes so much - it makes it very easy to get subtle color variation when i use this Secret Technique. look at the striation in the upper right background! so tasty. however, to me, these colors are still a bit "much." so let's lower the opacity.

i think thats a lot nicer to look at, personally, but i dont really like these colors together. how about we try some other ones?

i like both of these a lot more. the palettes give the piece different vibes, at which point i have to ask myself: What Are The Vibes, Actually? well, to be honest i didn't really have a great answer because again, i didn't plan this out very much at all. however. i knew in my heart that there was too much color contrast going on and it was detracting from the two other contrasts in here: the light and dark values and the sharp and soft shapes. i wanted mithrun's head to be the main focal point. for a different illustration, colors like this might work great, but this is not that hypothetical illustration, so let's bring the opacity down again.

yippee!! that's getting closer to what my heart wants. for fun, let's see what this looks like if we change the blending mode to color.

i do like how these look but in the end they do not align with my heart. oh well. fun to experiment with though! good to keep in mind for a different piece, maybe! i often change blending modes just to see what happens, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. i very much cannot stress enough that much of my artistic process is clicking buttons i only sort of understand. for fun.

i ended up choosing the gradient map on the right because i liked that it was close to the actual canary uniform colors (sorta). it's at an even lower opacity though because there was Still too much color for my dear heart.

the actual process for this looks like me setting my merged layer to soft light at around 20% opacity and then clicking every single gradient map in my collection and seeing which one Works. sometimes i will do this multiple times and have multiple soft light and/or color layers combined.

typically at this point i merge everything again and do minor contrast adjustments using tone curves, which is another tool i find very fun to play around with. then for this piece in particular i did some finishing touches and decided that the white border was distracting so i cropped it. and then it's done!!! yay!!!!!

this process is a very simple and "fast" way to add more depth and visual interest to a piece without being overbearing. well, it's fast if you aren't indecisive like me, or if you are better at planning.

let's do another comparison. personally i feel that the hint of color on the left version makes mithrun look just a bit more unwell (this is a positive thing) and it makes the contrast on his arm a lot more pleasing to look at. someone who understands color theory better than i do might have more to say on the specifics, but that's honestly all i got.

just dont look at my layers too hard. ok?

#process #art tutorial #unsure what else to tag this as. if this does not post properly i will cry.

[reiderwriter]

So obviously Spencer is iconic for his wide range of haircuts over the show, and I have this vision of a Spencer x hairdresser fic where he goes to the same hairdresser all the time because he likes the routine and it’s what he’s used to. So like they’re low-key friends bc he’s been her client so long, but then she notices he can’t come as usual and he tells her it’s because he’s always away or working late. So because they’re close she gives him private late appointments after she closes bc they’re more accessible for him, and then they’re always together late at night, and eventually they fall for each other!! And like she loves his curls and cringed when he wanted it cut short but loves it regardless AHH I JUST LOVE IT. Bonus points if Spencer gets to recommend his hairdresser girlfriend to his teammates just to brag about the fact he has a hot girlfriend lmao. I get it’s kinda long lol, if it’s too long a premise then no worries, just sharing it is nice :)

A/N: Hi! I love the idea of hair stylist reader, so I had a lot of fun writing this~♡ Thank you for your request, I hope you enjoy it!

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: implied Autistic Reid, brief mentions of sensory issues, writer does not care for the shows Canon hair continuity and does basically whatever she wants.

Masterlist

The first time you'd met Spencer Reid, you hadn't been able to cut his hair. Which was a damn shame because it really did need cutting. 

Sweeping up the floors of the hair salon you worked at, you had noticed the man lingering outside, wringing his hands together and pushing them awkwardly through his hair, approaching and retreating every few seconds. 

You watched him through the mirrors, and let him dance around like that for five minutes before deciding that the evening breeze would be a boon during the hot summer night that was about to set in on you. 

Opening the salon door, you stepped outside and soaked in the fresh air before turning to the now frozen, slightly awkward man. 

“Can I help you?” You tried to put a welcoming smile on your face, but the salon was past closing and empty beside you. You should've been heading home by now, but something in the man's posture had you dawdling.

“The barber shop down the road closed down,” he said quickly, as if the words were practised on his to guess moments before. 

“Yes, that's true. It's been six months now.”

“Six months?” he squeaked out, running a hand through his hair as he turned inwards. 

“Do you… need a haircut?” 

“Yes. Yes, are there any other barber shops in the area?” 

You rolled your eyes and walked back into the salon, picking up a robe and a shoulder cover and spinning around the closest chair to welcome him. 

“Well, are you coming in?” 

“But you're closed. Your sign says you're closed.” 

“And I'm still here, aren't I?” 

He didn't argue any further and hesitantly stepped into the salon. 

You helped him out of his bag and put it away before helping him into the robe and shoulder pad. 

He awkwardly stood around as you prepared your scissors and station again, switching on the mirror light so you could fully see his face and hair. 

And damn was he attractive. As you smoothed his hair out of his face, you were met with warm brown eyes, open and anxious, like a deer caught in headlights. Or, more accurately, a dear caught in a hair salon. 

You had to blink and look away as you remembered what you were about, standing up and leading him over to the sink. 

“I'm… I'm a little bit sensitive about my hair,” he admitted quite meekly as you tested the temperature of the water. 

“Okay. Is there anything specific?” 

He sat himself in the chair but didn't lower his head to the bowl, so you waited. 

After a minute or two, he gently lowered his head to the bowl, and you helped his progress, making sure he was comfortably settled. He didn't speak, just let his shoulders relax and closed his eyes as you turned the water on his locks. 

You enjoyed the simple repetitions of your job. Everyone's hair was different, that was true, but there were really only so many ways to wash hair. 

You rinsed his hair thoroughly, keeping the water away from his face and ears with a face guard before beginning to lather it up. 

For a man who hadn't seen the inside of a salon in six months and likely a hairbrush in the same length of time, his hair was healthy. 

De-tangling as you went, you ran your hands through the lengths of his hair, taking note of how it fell, which parts were healthy, and which had developed split ends. Then you began massaging his head, working the shampoo into his roots, making sure his scalp was free from any possible dirt or dry skin. 

This was the best part of the haircut for you, and you knew your regular clients enjoyed it greatly as well. Which is why you probably shouldn't have been too surprised when the man fell asleep. 

It took you a few minutes to realize that was what happened, the face guard obscuring his face from your vision. When you squeezed the water from his hair, patted it dry, and twisted it into a towel so the water wouldn't run down his back, you had no clue that he was away with the fairies. 

It wasn't until you asked him to stand, and he didn't even move that you moved around the sink and lifted the face guard. 

If he seemed anxious awake, it had melted away now. He looked younger asleep, more calm and confident somehow. His eyelashes were long, a fact you only noticed when you leaned in to get a better look at him. 

It was your hand unconsciously tracing a hand along his jaw that woke him back up, and for a second, you just stared at each other, faces inches apart. 

“I'm.. I'm so sorry, I should go. Thank you for… I should go,” he said hurriedly, pulling the robes and towels off and snatching his bag up, running out the door. 

“Wait, your hair,” you called after him, but he was gone. 

And he hadn't paid. 

It took a week for you to collect the payment, though you couldn't care less about the money anyway. 

But a week thinking about the man's delicate features, his shy smile and stutter, and you were very distracted. 

Thinking about him had become your full-time job, as much as cutting hair had, and you'd had a few close encounters with the scissors when you were lost in thought. 

You'd been thinking up back stories for the man ranging from the romantic to the obscure to the downright realistic. So, a week later, you found yourself behind on work and needing to stay late, just as he stepped into the shop a second time. 

“Hello?” You shouted from the backroom, hearing the doorbell jingle as it opened. “We're actually closed right now, so- oh.” 

He stood awkwardly in the door, his face already flushed slightly. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi,” you said, trying to stop the grin spreading across your face. You didn't want to scare him off a second time. 

“Last time, I… kinda ran away. I was… I'm not the best with-” 

“With haircuts?” 

“With change.” You both nodded at that, awkwardly staring at each other. 

“So…?” You lead, trying to encourage him to introduce himself, hoping he would reveal something you didn't already know. 

“You're closed again, but could you cut my hair?” He asked, pushing the long locks back on his head as he stood a little taller. 

“It would be my pleasure…” you trailed off as a question, needing to know his name. 

“Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor… just Spencer is fine if you'd prefer.” 

“I'm Y/N. Come and take a seat.” 

You slid him into the robes once again and got through a hair wash without any accidental naps this time. Though you did notice that he seemed to be enjoying it just as much. 

His sighs left you feeling hot, your heart beating as you focused on his hair to draw your gaze from his lips. 

When he was back I'm front of the mirror, he again looked like a scared cat that had been backed into the corner. 

“So, what'll it be, Spencer?” You asked cheerily, combing your hand through his locks to detangle them. 

“Hmm? Oh, a water would be nice.” 

“For your hair, Spencer. What haircut do you want?” 

“Oh! Oh, um, just a…just a haircut.” 

Your face scrunched up in confusion as he doubled down. 

“But what kind of haircut?” 

“What kind?” 

You pulled away from his chair for a minute and went to grab a cut reference book. 

“Okay, so we've got undercuts, or trims, I can do pompadour or bowl cut or-” 

You looked at Spencer's face again and saw that he looked more than confused. 

“How about I just cut your hair and after you tell me if you like it or not?” 

He nodded and gave you a weak smile as you grabbed your scissors. 

Twenty minutes of silence later, and you felt Spencer exhale in relief as you dusted off the back of his neck and pulled the robes off of his clothes. 

You'd gone for a shorter cut, but his curly hair had such a nice natural texture that you left it a bit longer on top. Without his hair in his face, his jawline was sharper, his eyes brighter, and you were somehow more infatuated. 

He stood up shyly and you smiled at how good he looked. 

“Okay, perfect! Let me just-” You lifted your hand and smoothed out some of his hair, picking up some strands and pushing them back and forth until it was just right. 

He caught your hand just as you were about to pull away, and you suddenly realized how close he was. Or more accurately how close you had gotten. It was like you were breathing the same air. 

“D-Do you like it?” You asked, voice small and high as it battled your heartbeat to be heard. 

“Yeah. I like it. It looks… it looks like a haircut.” 

You giggled as his grip became gentler, and your hand fell down to your side, brushing his chest gently as it descended. 

“How much do I owe you?” He asked, and you led him over to the register to complete the payment. 

“Thank you,” he said as he grabbed his bags to head out the door. 

“Just doing my job. I'll see you in six weeks,” you said, waving him off. 

“What for?” He asked, voice confused but bright. He sounded almost hopeful. 

“For your next haircut, Spencer.” 

He smiled and waved back as he walked back into the dark and disappeared down the street. 

No one could ever accuse Spencer Reid of being forgetful, and six weeks later, he was back in your chair. 

Except he didn't arrive at 11pm this time, but instead 11am. 

The other customers and stylists gawked at the man as he walked in, and you thanked the gods that your seat was free as he met your eyes. 

“Hi.” 

“Spencer! You're back.” 

He nodded shyly, head hanging a little as he ignored the many looks from the women in the room and the eruption of whispers and loud glances in his direction. 

“It's been six weeks. You said that's when I'd need another haircut.” 

You laughed a little as you pulled the robe around him. 

“You know, I say that every time, but most people ignore me. I love a man who can follow directions.” 

The eruption of red on his cheeks left you feeling suddenly tongue tied, and you carefully redirected the conversation back to the task at hand. 

“Same again, Doc?” You asked, readying your spray bottle and supplies. 

“Actually, could we, ah, go shorter this time?” Hesmiled sheepishly and watched as you ran your fingers through his tangled hair. 

“My boss, last time, said I looked like I joined a boyband, so…” 

“Your boss at the hospital?” You asked, clinging to every detail you could get from him. 

“The hospital?” 

“You said you were a Doctor, do you work in a lab instead or-”

“Oh. No, I work at the FBI. I'm not a medical doctor, I have a PhD. I have three, Chemistry, Engineering, and Mathematics.” 

You whistled. “Impressive. You can't be older than 30.” 

“I'm 29.” He said, smiling at you in the mirror, and you smiled back, hands still running through his hair. 

“So, no boy band haircuts, okay. For what it's worth, though, you look totally hot.” 

The words cut the conversation short, and you tried your best to take the words back as you went off to the sides to grab your sheers. 

Half an hour later, and you could swear that half the salon had given up pretending to be doing their jobs and were just awkwardly ogling the man. If the shorter “boyband” hair was good, the undercut you'd done for him was even better. 

You turned him around to get a closer look, using the excuse of making sure his hair was symmetrical enough to stare at him some more as you got closer to finishing. 

“Okay,” you said with a sad sigh. “You're all finished, Spencer. Let's get you rung up.” 

He nodded and followed you quickly, pulling out his wallet as he paid quietly. 

“Okay. And I'll see you tomorrow,” you said, as he picked up his bags to leave. 

“Tomorrow? I thought you said it was six weeks between haircuts.” 

“It is. But it's also my day off tomorrow, so I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner. With me.” 

He blinked at you once. Then twice, and another time before smiling and looking away. 

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

He ran a hand through his hair and nearly walked into the door he was trying to walk through, but your heart still fluttered as you waved him out. 

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

[ozzgin]

I love your reader insert stuff!! The yandere yazuka series was vvvv entertaining, I wish I had a big scary gangster to scare away my stalker lol

If you are open to requests, how about Idol!Reader x Yandere!Bodyguard. I love the trope so much, and I'm interested and what you'd do with the idea. No worries if you're not interested tho!

Best wishes

-🌟

I just finished writing it and you've got me punching the air with your prompt. It wasn't really my thing but I'm now sold. Thank you for the trope idea. :’)

Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (I)

Short scenario featuring your bodyguard that takes his duty a little too seriously. Not that you’d mind…

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

TW: violence

(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)

"Fantastic show tonight!"

The older man guides you in and closes the door behind him. You smile warmly and seat yourself on the sofa. He quickly follows, although at a terribly uncomfortable proximity. His legs are pressed against yours and he extends an arm behind you, pretending to stretch. You shuffle awkwardly and lock your hands in your lap. You can already tell where this is going.

"With your talent, I'm confident we could triple the number of attendants. We just need a bigger venue." He nods at you and taps your thigh with his other free hand as encouragement. You notice the wedding band digging into his skin. 

"Alas, let us not waste the evening with business talk. I'm sure a stunning lady like you has better things to do." He laughs at his own compliment and ponders for a minute. "In fact, why don't we have dinner together? I know a great restaurant in the area."

You open your mouth to speak, but are distracted by the sudden, mild pressure on your leg. Somehow, his greasy fingers have wandered further up in the time you listened to his shameless offer. You've been in this career for long enough to guess what such proposals entail. If you say no, best case scenario he presses further, calling you a stuck up bitch and reminding you who has the power in this partnership. Worst case scenario, he leaves the room and the calls and invitations to perform will gradually drop. 

Yet your situation is special, benefitting from an additional possibility. A loophole, if you may.

Should you scream? Oh, he always gets so angry when you act scared. It's an immediate trigger. He really has a soft spot for your glistening, frightened eyes. You glance up one final time at the perverted smirk silently disregarding you. If you are to be honest with yourself, you'd very much enjoy seeing it wiped off forever. Why not? You're feeling particularly mean today.

So without hesitation, you release a high pitched yell of help. The door bursts open and the hinges creak. A tall, toned man walks in, and without a word he lunges at the manager, pulling him by the collar of his cheap dress jacket. You hold your cheeks dramatically, and bat your eyelashes at your bodyguard.

"H-he tried to molest me..." you mumble between sobs.

That's all he needs to proceed. Now the real fun begins. You can hear the muffled screams of protest. The bones crack and the flesh bends under his iron fists. Standing before your bodyguard, they all end up looking like ragdolls. Comically limp and weak, folding and breaking with no resistance. It amuses you greatly.

When did it all begin? You can't remember anymore. You were in your early years and this scary looking stranger entered your little backstage room. His explanation was brief and to the point: as your fame increases, so will the threats to your safety. He was appointed as your bodyguard. You couldn't care less, so you just shrugged. 

You've always been on the playful side. Not necessarily rude, just some innocent tease and banter wherever it's well received. Seeing him so quiet and stoic, you couldn't help but try to push his buttons: changing in front of him and requiring his assistance, occasionally asking him to pick you up and carry you because you could no longer walk. Naturally you would've stopped at the first complaint, but that's the strange part: no reaction ever came. He went along with everything. You assumed it's part of the job. Celebrities aren't known for their good manners, so hiring someone that loses their temper easily would be a fast ticket to termination.

Then you had your first encounter with one of the unpleasant fans you've been warned about. You could only stare in terror at your bodyguard's feral, unhinged reaction. The unfortunate fan's face was so disfigured, you wondered if anyone could ever manage to fix it back into shape. The bodyguard was panting and you could see the sweat coating his face and chest. You were rather confident there were many other ways to deal with it and this wasn't on the recommended list. Thus you felt compelled to ask the million dollar question:

"You act like a jealous spouse. Do you have a crush on me or something?"

You kind of regretted your audacity towards a man that had just nearly killed someone. But his features softened instantly and he turned to you, wiping his forehead and straightening his collar. 

"I suppose so. Is that an issue?"

As you stared ahead, processing his unbothered act, you sensed your cheeks feverishly burning. Uh oh. You hadn't anticipated such a nonchalant confession. You thought back to all the times you stood before him, bare and flirty. Was he merely holding back his urges the entire time? Or was he finally paying you back for all the teasing? Then again, his face didn't betray any hint of humor.

"I've never heard you joke before", you decided to test the waters.

"I'm not. Why would I joke about something like this?" He gazed at you incredulously. 

As somber and honest as ever. Well, that would indeed explain why he'd let you get away with the cheeky behavior. The more you considered it, the more entranced you became with the idea of indulging in such a relationship. As a famous idol, you couldn't be seen dating anyone. One rumor of you having a boyfriend and the agency would've had your ass suspended. But no one said anything about messing around with your bodyguard. He has to be with you all the time, so no one would suspect a thing. And you could definitely expand his list of responsibilities. You'd been terribly stressed lately, after all, and an outlet to release your frustrations would be most welcomed. Your bodyguard would never refuse pleasing his beloved.

You chuckled and pulled him towards your dressing room, giddy with excitement. Something about his imposing presence, like a wild animal that had just escaped from the leash, aroused you to no end. You've had your share of crazy fans, but this was the cherry on top. 

"Should we leave?"

You're jolted out of your daydreams by his low, rough voice. Ah, you missed the grand finale. Too bad. The bodyguard approaches you, with the shirt wrinkled and the top buttons popped open under the shuffle of his vicious attack. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach.

"Not yet. You know how I get when you act like this..." You pout and look away. "You need to take care of me first."

He grins at your last statement.

"Of course. Is the sofa okay?"

You nod.

"Then let's get you undressed, miss."

Is this what they call a scary dog privilege? 

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #female reader #yandere bodyguard #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #male yandere x reader #yandere original character

[archiverstappen]

HI!! Hope you are well! I was wondering if you could do a smau, ferrari!reader (daughter of the ferrari family, like hier to the company? Idk how to explain lol) x max verstappen, where they have known eachother for a while through Jos and stuff, and they are really close, but everyone thinks it's just because they are friends? And then max hard launched reader because everyone is shipping her with one of the ferrari boys? Thanks! <3

hard launch ✧ max verstappen

max verstappen x ferrari! fem! reader

masterlist

had so much fun writing this! thank you for sending in your request anon <3 (requested)

[twitter]

[instagram]

yn_ferrari

liked by charles_leclerc and 1.830.616 others

yn_ferrari eat pasta drive fasta 🍝

view all 1.828 comments

scuderiaferrari See you tomorrow boss 🫡

username mother is mothering more than she has ever mothered before 😍

charles_leclerc bet you were drunk after drinking that amount of wine

↳ yn_ferrari stop spreading lies

↳ username never beating the couple allegations

↳ username i ship it🥰

username “CHA” for CHArles?!??! 🥺🥺

↳ username GIRL😭😭

maxverstappen1 🫃

↳ yn_ferrari papa asked you to let charles/carlos win for once🥹🙏🏼

↳ maxverstappen1 As much as I love papa, I’m afraid I can’t do that💙

↳ yn_ferrari @/nicorosberg please do your magic

username IS THAT MAX IN THE 3RD PICTURE?!

↳ username it’s charles😌

yn_ferrari

liked by carlossainz55 and 1.288.711 others

yn_ferrari always a meaningful race at monza! so glad to be back and see all the tifosi that came to show their support❤️ congrats to @/carlossainz55 for the podium! (and to @/maxverstappen1 for breaking the record 😒)

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maxverstappen1 Thank you, Y/N😚

↳ yn_ferrari it’s all your fault! @/nicorosberg 🙍‍♀️

↳ nicorosberg Forza Ferrari❤️

↳ yn_ferrari you’re welcome, i guess you deserved it🤷‍♀️

↳ username is it just me?? but i feel like y/n is so rude to max sometimes :/

↳ username girl chill😭😭 that’s just how they are, they’ve been friends for over twenty years now

scuderiaferrari Lovely to have you and bossman here! Please visit often❤️

↳ yn_ferrari i think i still have to recover, feels like my hand is broken by how hard papa squeezed it throughout the race

username “ferrari fans always in spain (without the s)” SO TRUE 😩

charles_leclerc Are we still on for the family dinner tonight

↳ yn_ferrari you’ve been uninvited, you almost gave papa a heart attack

↳ carlossainz55 😂😂😂

↳ yn_ferrari you too mr. sainz

↳ carlossainz55 THATS NOT FAIR

username i just love the banter between charles and y/n😭 i want what they have

[message]

[instagram]

maxverstappen1

liked by yn_ferrari and 4.716.109 others

maxverstappen1 You still make my heart beat fast, Ferrari❤️

tagged: yn_ferrari

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yn_ferrari i thought i told you to keep it PG😡 5 SECOND PENALTY FOR MAX VERSTAPPEN

yn_ferrari unoriginal caption taken from song lyrics?! 183621 SECOND PENALTY!!

↳ maxverstappen1 I love you🥰

↳ yn_ferrari love you too 😮‍💨

username SCREAMING CRYING WTF😭

username i can’t see i’m blind😵

redbullracing SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY?! 😮

↳ scuderiaferrari FORZA FERRARI SIEMPRE!!!🐎

papaferrari Please delete

papaferrari @/yn_ferrari I think we need to have a little chat

↳ yn_ferrari i’m not the one who posted the pictures😭

↳ papaferrari Okay… Please tell Max not to come to the dinner tonight 👍😁

↳ maxverstappen1 WHAT NO, I CAN EXPLAIN

username b-b-b-but charles + y/n? 🥲

↳ username we lost💔

username a good day to be a ferrstappen shipper

↳ username WAR IS OVER

username THE 2ND PIC I-

charles_leclerc Took you guys long enough🙄

yn_ferrari

liked by maxverstappen1 and 3.921.551 others

yn_ferrari some things never change

tagged: maxverstappen1

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username okay i guess they’re cute or whatever🙄

maxverstappen1 ❤️💙

papaferrari Can you just give this old man a break…

↳ username i volunteer to be your daughter 🧎‍♀️

username fell to my knees in the middle of walmart

charles_leclerc 20+ years of this 🫠

↳ yn_ferrari 😬😬😬

↳ maxverstappen1 💪💪💪

username i just need to know papa ferrari’s current favorite grid son, given all the situations happening right now😂

↳ yn_ferarri will always and forever be @/sebastianvettel

↳ charles_leclerc WOW

↳ carlossainz55 WOW

↳ maxverstappen1 WOW

↳ kimimatiasraikonnen Wow.

↳ sebastianvettel 😁😁😁

_

pictures (c) to pinterest and instagram

#max verstappen #formula 1 #f1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen social media #max verstappen smau #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 social media #f1 smau #archiverstappen

[starkwlkr]

bigger than the whole sky | max verstappen

when i heard emma’s stone speech LET ME TELL YOU I GRABBED MY PHONE ASAP AND STARTED WRITING REMINDER FACECLAIM DOESNT HAVE TO BE EMMA STONE I JUST WANTED TO USE THE PIC LOL

INSTAGRAM

liked by f1, martingarrix and 635,788 others

maxverstappen1 ophelia was very happy to see her mother win an oscar and have a mention in her speech. congratulations, yourusername you’re incredible as always. we love you!!

danielricciardo hello ophelia’s dad. can she come to the next race?

maxverstappen1 i have to ask ophelia’s mom

martingarrix little miss phee 🤍

liked by author

redbullracing mini verstappen is always welcomed!

yourusername the loves of my life!!

maxverstappen1 ❤️

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Australian Grand Prix 2024

“look, phee! that’s daniel. can you say hi daniel?” max pointed to the australian man who was entering the red bull motorhome. it was ophelia’s first time attending a race so max wanted to make sure she was okay at all times. that meant that ever since the verstappen family entered the paddock, max had ophelia in his arms, even when he had interviews.

daniel approached the family of three with a giant smile plastered on his face. “hi, little miss phee.” he waved at the three year old girl. “are you having fun?”

ophelia was a shy kid. when you and max would get invited to one of your friends kids’ birthday party, ophelia would always stay with you or max. she wasn’t interested in playing with the other kids.

“it’s okay, phee, daniel is a friend.” max encouraged the girl.

“you’re daddy’s friend.” ophelia said in a low voice that daniel could barely hear.

“yeah, your dad has loads of friends here. you want to meet them?” he asked.

“tell mommy we are going to meet daddy’s friends. we’ll be right back.” max gave ophelia a kiss on the cheek.

“we are . . meeting daddy’s friends!” ophelia told you with a giggle. if there was anyone who could get ophelia to open up, daniel was the man.

“okay, but come back soon. mommy is going to miss you so much.” you stood up from your chair and gave ophelia a kiss. you looked at max, who was too excited for ophelia to meet the rest of the drivers. “have fun.” you kissed max’s lips, but ophelia playfully moved max’s face away from yours.

“that’s my mommy.” ophelia told max.

“what? no way! she’s mine!” max played along as him and daniel walked out of the motorhome in search of their friends. you watched as your boyfriend and daughter laughed making some people passing by see that max enjoyed being a dad so much.

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #mv33 #mv1 #actress!reader #f1 smau #max verstappen smau #dad!max verstappen