#Are Golf Shoes Worth It | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beabnormal24 · 6 months ago

Note

I just saw that you’re writing Carcar fic, a snippet pls 🙏

I love your stories so much so I’m really excited ❤️

This is the first thing that I read when I wake up, thank you so much anon because this means a lot to me, so I'll do it.

(I edited this post, 'cause I had a bit of trouble publishing it)

Soo, a not-so-little snippet for you!

“Mate, I honestly think you’re just exaggerating. It doesn’t sound like that big of a deal to me, really.” Logan stretches his legs out, knocking his feet right against Oscar’s knee.

Oscar grumbles in lieu of an answer, lowering his head until he can hide his gaze in the bottom of his pint.

“Don’t know why you hate the guy so much; he seems alright to me.”

The thing is, Oscar Piastri does not hate Carlos Sainz.

Hate is too strong of a word for an individual with whom Oscar tends to have zero to no interaction whatsoever, except for forced polite greetings in the elevator and those rare times when Carlos decides that going out with Lando is worth his time.

Oscar sincerely thinks that only pretentious people claim to be as busy as Carlos does, so much so that he never seems able to find an evening to spend an ounce of time with his best friend.

So, no, Oscar does not hate him. He just can’t stand him, which is a big difference and Logan should note that.

Is the prospect of working alongside him on his most important project of his entire career going to deepen that grudge? Probably, surely.

But Oscar is, in fact, a professional, no matter what Carlos thinks of him, and he knows how to work with people he would rather keep a safe distance from. Nail guy and Germophobic guy should be more than enough proof.

“You don’t know him.” Oscar protests, sighing in frustration. Lando raises an unimpressed eyebrow next to him, tapping his chin. ��Alright, sorry Lando. You do not know him in a working context.”

“I mean, how different can that be?” Logan says doubtfully. “Lando said you don’t even work in the same department.”

“Lando is just biased because Carlos got to him before us.”

Lando snorts, shaking his head with an amused smile. “Wow, thanks Oscar, you make it sound like I can make my own decisions.”

Oscar shrugs. “You’re welcome.”

“Has he started complaining about being paired up with Carlos, yet?” Yuki asks just as he settles down two other pints on their booth’s table.

Alex trails behind him, carefully balancing two portions of fries on each arm before sliding in the empty seat next to Logan.

“Mate, you have no idea.” Logan groans, placing a sloppy kiss on Alex’s cheek as he steals a fry from his portion.

Alex rolls his eyes, but still lets him with a fond smile. Oscar sincerely thinks he could puke.

“I really don’t understand why you despise him so much. He seems alright to me.” Alex says, failing at hiding the curiosity behind his voice.

“Babe! I said the same exact thing!”

“And he’s a great golf player, honestly.”

Oscar sighs, knowing that he’s left with his shoulders against the wall.

It’s not like his friends would understand, anyway, since they do not have to walk in his shoes.

Logan and Alex do not count, because they like everyone, and Yuki is one of the most unfazed people Oscar has ever met, Lando is just obsessed with Carlos for reasons Oscar will probably never fully comprehend.

He’s left alone, on this matter, even when they all go out together and Charles and Carlos tag along, Carlos is the only one who seems to not have any joke or a single word to address to Oscar.

Lando says that he’s probably the one actually ignoring him. Oscar thinks that Carlos is just plain out rude to him, and only him.

But that’s a bit childish, so he’ll keep that thought to himself.

Everyone starts focusing on their own food, and Oscar stupidly hopes that the topic must’ve finally been brought out of his last Saturday night as a free man before three months of utter nightmare.

And then Yuki quips in and reduces his hopes to shreds. “On his first day, Carlos told Andrea that he thought Oscar was too young for that position, and that he would be inexperienced. Oscar heard him, and he’s totally convinced that Carlos knows that he heard him but he still never apologised and Oscar took that personally because he’s peevish.”

“I am not peevish!” Oscar groans bumping his forehead against the table.

“Yeah, Oscar, you are a bit peevish. Just a tiny bit, though.” He feels Lando’s hand coming up to pat him on the back, sympathetic. “Come on mate, I’m pretty sure he didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yeah, I mean, we say similar stuff about each other all the time at my workplace.” Alex offers, in an awful attempt at cheering him up.

It doesn’t do any magic at all, because Alex works as a teacher and Oscar has gone to school for enough years to know that teachers are only capable of hating each other for stretching out their hours longer than they should and preferring different students.

Well, unless they’re shagging like Alex and Logan, but they work in two different schools so that should not apply.

“It’s not just that.” Oscar tries to defend himself. Because holding a grudge for something that happened three years ago does sound a bit childish, and he’s not.

The rest of the table looks at him inquisitively, impatiently waiting for an answer, just the sound of the background music filling the silence that Oscar would so much prefer over having to talk about Carlos, of all people.

The worst topic they could choose for a Saturday night out at the pub, really.

“He’s just-“ he makes a vague gesture, hoping that they might understand it easily. Of course, everyone just blinks at him. “I mean, who goes around with only shirts that have his initials stitched on it? Who goes around acting like they know everything and they’re the best at it? And he says that Lando is his best mate, but I don’t see him hanging out with him that often, no? That’s just top dickhead behaviour, if you ask me.”

“Aw, Osc!” Lando exclaims, and in a matter of second, Oscar finds himself with his head caged under Lando’s elbow, the Brit’s hand mussing his hair. “You’re so cute, defending my honour.”

“You never did that for me.” Logan protests, and then more quietly to Alex. “Babe, he never did that for me.”

Alex smiles, patting his back lightly. “Do not worry, Lo, I’ll do it for you.”

“I’m not defending anybody’s honour.” Oscar splutters out, his cheeks growing hot, heart thumping in his chest, wild – a dangerous zone. He slaps Lando’s hands away from his hair, trying to ruffle them to some kind of order, but it’s no use, they’ll never make sense.

Carlos’ hair is always perfectly styled and composed. What a dickhead, indeed.

“I’m just stating the obvious.”

“Still, I can guarantee you that you do not need to worry about that.” Lando assures him, trying to reach back for his head, but Oscar is quicker this time, leaving him to poke Yuki’s cheek with a finger, instead. “He’s got other things to do on Saturday, usually.”

Oscar takes a sip of his beer to cover his snort.

He doesn’t trust Lando’s words, he’s probably just too biased by having been Carlos’ friend for such a long time.

Someone who’s not even married and who earns as much as Carlos does surely should not have that many things to do instead of hanging out with his friends.

But anyway, it’s none of his business. Rather, he should be glad he can at least escape him on Saturday.

“Sure.”

—

On Monday morning, Oscar clocks into work on time, his jacket is completely dry, his hair kind of makes sense and there’s a spring in his step, and he just feels good overall.

He has spent most of his Sunday sitting on the couch binge watching the entire final season of Brooklyn 99 and he’s convinced himself that whatever mind games Carlos might want to play with him, Oscar is stronger and smarter, and he won’t let himself get squashed.

Logan kind of fuelled his confidence, as well, with his usual monologues about the importance of believing in himself and remembering all the sweat and tears he put in to reach the place he’s in now, though Oscar is pretty sure he only comes up with them to exercise for his drama kids.

But the point is that he knows that it’s his job, that it’s his career, and even if he would probably get the promotion either way, he still wants to earn it. If not for Andrea, then for himself.

The fact that it’s his biggest project ever, just motivates him more.

He plops down on his office chair with a smile that must be breaking his face if the way Yuki glances at him curiously from the other side is anything to go by. But he just shrugs it off, playing dumb.

He’s just in a good mood, is that illegal?

“It is if you’re called Oscar Piastri.” Yuki tells him, no hair on his tongue. “You always look like-“ he makes a serious face, his lips closed into straight line, one eyebrow raised, sceptical. Oscar does not look like that, he thinks (he hopes). “Like those statues from Christmas Island.”

“I do not look like that at all.” Oscar glares at him, turning his computer on. “And it’s Easter Island.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

He spends the morning going through Andrea’s instructions over and over again until he can exactly tell the position of every single letter, and then he spends the rest of it making a first draft for a spreadsheet with all the products they will probably need to change a million times.

Carlos does not write him, nor does he come around to ask for him, either, but Oscar doesn’t question it that much. God knows he has his own side-projects, although minor, to care about but he guesses that spending some time to start brainstorming over this new one it’s not entirely a bad idea.

He’ll just email the file Excel to Carlos once it’s done, and then maybe they’ll shortly discuss about it, Oscar will even accept some suggestions because, against all odds, he is ready to work as a team. Besides, his creativity is pretty close to a zero percentage, but he has heard that Carlos knows how to do a mean presentation, and that’s how teams work, right?

Combine your best skills and all that stuff about sharing each other’s strengths. Oscar wouldn’t know about that, really, since he’s always preferred the solitary work, but he doesn’t have that much of a choice right now.

Yuki asks for poke at lunch, and Oscar is a man of his word, so as soon as the clock strikes half past twelve, they’re already out the door chattering about the latest apex legends’ update.

The guy behind the cash register smiles at him sweetly when he pays, and Oscar swears he winks at him as he slides the receipt over the counter, and sure enough when he looks at it there is a phone number scribbled on the paper.

Oscar isn’t exactly interested in dating as of now, but the guy was cute, and it did boost his ego a bit, and it might not be a bad idea to go out with someone that is not his roommate, his roommate’s boyfriend, his coworker and a weird friend from university. Maybe he could even get laid, which doesn’t seem like a bad prospect at all.

It’s just the combination of all these tiny little things that makes him feel better, more confident, almost ready to let himself believe that he could change his mind about Carlos, like Lando has been trying to make him for years, now.

Maybe he could actually reconsider him, even if just by stopping viewing him as a pretentious dickhead.

But Carlos just makes it incredibly difficult, it seems.

Oscar has just started settling back behind his desk when his attention gets caught by the new email in his inbox, that definitely was not there before.

To: oscar.piastri@g... From: carlos.sainz.vasq... Sub: team project

Hi Piastri, attached you will find your part of the project. Please, do not contact me on my lunch breaks, Friday nights and weekends. I will not respond. I sincerely hope you do not need any clarification, but if you do, you can write to the email above. Good work.

[See more]

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” He almost slams his laptop shut, feeling the rage bubbling up inside of him. Logan likes to say that he’s an emotionless human being, Yuki just compared him to a freaking statue, and yet Carlos Sainz is enough to make him doubt himself and his capability to have a decent control of his own emotions.

He inhales deeply, nostrils flaring as he tries to calm himself down. Breath in, and breath out, it’s just the first day of three months.

Which means that it can go even worse, fuck.

“What is it?” Yuki asks, curiously peering over his screen to take a glance.

Oscar had almost completely forgotten about his presence, and he just groans and turns the laptop around, not finding it in himself to explain without cursing one Spanish lineage or two.

“Mh, okay, yes.” Yuki mumbles, nodding understandingly with his chin propped up on his palm.

Oscar can see his eyes moving from one side to the other of the list, a list, of things that Oscar should do, that Carlos decided Oscar should do, just to prove himself once more as the biggest prick Oscar might’ve ever met in his life.

“Well, I don’t see the problem here.”

“You don’t- what?” Oscar splutters out, blinking once, twice. Yuki’s expression doesn’t change, it stays confused, amused even. “Isn’t it obvious? He gave me a list, Yuki, a list.”

“Yes and?” Yuki asks, unsure. “I mean, I would kill to have a teammate who tells me what I have to do. Splitting parts is the worst step for a team project, in my opinion. You should be glad.”

“I should be glad?” Oscar says, he almost feels crazy about it. “Yuki, can’t you see it? He’s doing it in purpose! He probably just decided what parts he didn’t want and gave them to me so I can, like, do his dirty laundry. I am almost 100% sure he’s going to take all the credit after and he just- ugh!”

Yuki looks at him, unimpressed, standing in front of Oscar’s desk like he’s seconds away from giving him a slap on his head. When they’re like this and the height difference is completely reversed, Oscar remembers that Yuki can be incredibly frightening, too.

“Oscar, listen to me.” Yuki says, gentle. Well, not really gentle, because Oscar is pretty sure that Yuki lacks that definition, but something akin to gentleness, surely. “I think you’re a bit stressed out right now, I get it, it’s an important project-“

“My most important project.” Oscar interrupts him. He feels compelled to remind that detail, which he doesn’t find small at all.

It will dictate the rest of his career, his future, his curriculum, his self esteem. He might be exaggerating, but he’s used to take things seriously only when he manages to convince himself that they are, in fact, serious.

But now that he thinks about it, he may just need a change of perspective: maybe having to work alongside Carlos is just a challenge for himself, one last obstacle to overtake before he can finally make all his years of studying and working his back off worth it.

He just needs to impose himself and he needs to show himself and to Carlos that he knows what he’s doing, and that it can easily be a 50/50 kind of work.

Perfectly balanced, yeah.

“- and I mean, anyway, if you’re not happy with whatever he decides, you can just go and talk to the guy.”

“You know what, Yuki?” Oscar says, standing up as he shuts his laptop close, feeling thrilled about the prospect of taking reins between his hands, for once. It must feel amazing, to finally have control over something, and it only makes him want that promotion more. “I think I’m going to give him a little speech about respect.”

“That’s not what I meant, but you do you.” Yuki shrugs before finally going back to his desk, sitting hunched over his screen and probably causing himself twenty different problems to his back.

It’s a spur of the moment, Oscar is not used to get them often, he prefers to be more levelheaded, in a way, more rational, logical.

But Carlos has always managed to get under his skin in a way that he never was able to point out, like he could just crawl inside and gnaw at it and smirk that too full grin of his that some would define as charming, Oscar just finds unappealing.

If he were to admit it, he would probably find the reasons of their mutual grudge behind deeply buried thoughts that Oscar has long since tried to forget about.

Like that time he had been scratching his own wrist with his nails, too long, too uneven, waiting for Lando to give him an ounce of his attention, just for Carlos to get it all with a bat of his eyelashes and a show of his straight teeth.

And Oscar has thought that, well, he did not know how to style his hair and he had always had bunny teeth and he did not post shirtless selfies on his socials, and he did not like to hop from one club to another to spend the time on a Saturday night, so hoping that Lando could turn around and look at him and say ‘Oscar’ all British accented and tongue in the little gap was just- ridiculous.

Rationally, that should not be considered as Carlos’ fault, but Oscar just knows that he knows. He swears he had seen him, winking at Oscar jokingly before taking Lando away by the hand, tilting his head to the side, curious, wicked, and then acting like Oscar wasn’t there, not even trying go engage him into conversations.

At work, it’s quieter, at least.

The only reason why Oscar still hasn’t spilled a hot coffee all over the front of his shirt is because Carlos kind of is his superior, after all, and people would surely almost immediately suspect of him if they were to find a distressed Carlos Sainz in sight.

But they still work in different sections, and they never have to cross paths unless they happen to be in the same elevator at the same time, or by the same coffee machine at the same time. They never make small talks, sometimes Carlos just glances at him and nods his head and makes a half assed comment about his commitments for the week like he’s someone too important to be around Oscar.

And Oscar wants to strangle him or scoff at him and give him a piece of his mind, but he does not, because he’s rational and levelheaded.

On top of that, the inexperienced comment and the lack of apology thereof does still sting, though he’ll never admit it.

The upper floor is a little bit nicer than the one his and Yuki’s office is, with longer corridors and opaque glass doors and plants that are actually alive.

Well, he and Yuki had tried to keep one between their desks, but the attempt had failed after they had realised they had forgotten watering it for four weeks straight. But at least they had tried.

Oscar doesn’t really think about what he’s going to say when he pushes the door open, nor does he when he strides into the office, basically uninvited.

And then when he finally thinks about it, it’s just to remain utterly speechless at the sight of Charles half slumped down on the little couch in the corner, scrolling away on his phone.

“Hi Oscar.” Charles says, enthusiastic as all the other times he and Oscar have interacted in the past. Oscar likes him, even though he can’t help but feel slightly intimidated by his attractiveness, but Charles has always been nice to him and when he goes out with them at the pub, he’s always asking Oscar about his day and appearing actually interested about it.

Which doesn’t explain why he would be friends with such a douchebag like Carlos, but it’s not like it’s any of his business.

“Hi Charles.” Oscar replies, unsurely taking a step forward. It doesn’t change the aspect of the situation, of course, what is supposed to be Carlos’ office chair is still as empty as the first time he laid eyes on it. “Am I in the wrong place?”

“Were you looking for Carlos?” Charles asks with a strange lilt to his voice, one that is not just from his accent, Oscar can tell.

“Uh, yes?”

“Then yes you are in the right place.” Charles concludes. “But at the wrong time, he’s out for his lunch break.”

Oscar checks his watch, then he checks it another time just to be sure. “But lunch break ended fift- twenty minutes ago.”

“Yeah, but he has to do other things, so he asked for a later lunch break.”

A later lunch break.

What kind of immense prick asks for a different lunch break than all the other employees? Who does Carlos think he is?

Oscar sincerely thinks he has never met someone as full of himself as Carlos in his life, not even that one guy at his high school that went around claiming to be able to get every single girl in his bed.

Which Oscar knew for sure was a big load of bullshit because he had watched Lauren Smith reject him at their final year’s party, and Oscar had given him a drunken blowjob in a bathroom on the same night.

And still, Carlos managed to top that off.

“Alright.” Oscar says calmly. “Then I guess I can come back later.” He finishes, already turning around to get out of this office as soon as possible and go back to lament on Yuki.

But Charles doesn’t seem to be of the same opinion, clearing his throat to get his attention back on him. “Uh, we will be in a meeting later.” He says sheepishly, and then adding, “I’m sorry I didn’t know you needed him so soon.”

It’s not Charles’ fault that Carlos is a douchebag, really, and Oscar is not that immature to act like one. “Do not worry, I will come back tomorrow, then.” One deep breath, in and out. “Thanks Charles, I’ll see you around.”

“Bye Oscar!” Charles waves at him, back to his enthusiastic self.

Oscar can’t share even an ounce of that same giddiness, right now, so he just closes the door behind himself and curses the name tag on it, flipping the golden plate off.

And then once again before getting inside the elevatore.

It’s cathartic enough.

To: carlos.sainz.vasq... From: oscar.piastri@g... Re: team project Sub: adjustments

Hi Sainz, I was not able to find you and I would like to discuss the attachment of your last email. As it is a team project, I think that we should work, in fact, as team, unless you might’ve missed Andrea’s directives, though I am pretty sure you were sitting next to me. I sincerely hope you do not need any clarification on that. Good rest of the day.

To: oscar.piastri@g... From: carlos.sainz.vasq... Re: adjustments Sub: appointment

Hi Piastri, I guess I can concede you a talk face to face over the matter. You can meet me in my office tomorrow at half past ten. Do not be late.

To: carlos.sainz.vasq... From: oscar.piastri@g... Re: appointment

I won’t.

#carcar #carloscar #oscarlos #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #oscar piastri #my fic #ao3 fic #formula 1 rpf #lando norris #charles leclerc #yuki tsunoda #alex albon #logan sargeant

58 notes · View notes

uru-writes · 1 month ago

Text

*:･ﾟ✧ TOYFRIEND *:･ﾟ dg/james lee x yandere! ??? ·˚ ༘

music: persona 5 - beneath the mask instrumental with rain

tw: yandere behavior, stalking, anonymous gifts/messages, sexual humor, slut shaming, mentions of sexual favors, mentions of purging, mentions of alcohol/gambling addiction

"He probably sucks the teacher off."

"Is it even worth it? It's not like he's gonna be famous or something."

"I hear his poetry's not even that good."

"He's just a liar. He probably throws up his lunch, too."

Jihoon heard these whispers almost everyday at school. He'd gotten used to them, they don't hurt quite as much as they used to. "They're just jealous," his classmate told him. But the faces that surrounded him, the crooked smiles, the gazes sultry with amusement told him otherwise. That classmate's less than discreet glances did not escape him either.

It seemed the more his prowess was awarded and he was paraded around like a trophy; the more he seemed to shrink in on himself, slump when he walked, keep his head down at his desk so as not to be seen. He had gotten used to it. His ego only got him so far before all his efforts began to backfire in one way or another. The epic highs and lows of high school . . . something or other.

Presently, he was sitting at his desk, in the back of class of course, trying to eat his lunch in peace while he watched some others kids playing soccer through the window.

"Maybe he jerks off the other players so they let him score," he hears a girl whisper as she walks through the door.

"That doesn't explain the poetry, though," another girl says. "Oh!-"

Jihoon had stopped eating and was staring them down, eyes lidded and glazed over.

"Let's leave him alone!" One of the girls whispers.

"Maybe he's waiting for someone!" The other one teases while they both the classroom.

If there was one thing Jihoon was still proud of, it was his surprising amount of composure. He could jack off in the back of the classroom, and no one would notice. Probably. Most likely. He's never tried it. He has grades to keep up!

The rest of the day passes uneventfully. Or as uneventful as it gets for Jihoon. He disliked studying at school, so he leaves as soon as he is allowed. As always, he quickly finishes his assigned cleaning for the day and walks to the front building, where he changes his school shoes for his old raggedy ones. He pulls over his hoodie, his favorite that he liked to wear as often as possible. He speed walks home from there, eager to finish his studying so he could do his workout for the day. He had been given a day off from working the register at the grocery store, so he was determined to put his time to good use. He was feeling particularly ambitious today. He also wanted to study up on a new sport he was trying, golf. Boring as it sounded, it couldn't hurt to add to his repertoire.

He ponders about the different angles, trajectories, and postures, swinging his keys in his hand all the way back to his apartment. He used to live with his dad in another apartment, but Jihoon moved out after witnessing his intense alcohol and gambling addictions. Not to mention their near constant arguments. He mysteriously disappeared to another town, much to Jihoon's delight.

He unlocks the door and steps inside. The place was messy, typical of a high schooler. Papers, clothes, and bedding strewn about. Organized chaos is what they call it, he thinks. At least one part of him didn't have to be perfect. Though, he slightly recoils at the musty scent that clouded the room. Likely the result of not washing his bedding.

He sets down his backpack next to his desk, glancing at a pile of mail on top from the previous day. Monthly bills, credit card offers, university pamphlets, and the like. One odd, small envelope sat at the top of the pile. It was dark red and addressed to him in neat, compact Hangeul.

Jihoon picks it up and examines it. Nothing stood out other other than his name. He carefully slit it open, pulling out the white card inside. He flips it open, and a small stack of bills falls out onto the desk. His breath hitches when he reads the card.

'Buy yourself a new pairs of shoes.'

Bright red ink. And at the bottom, a flamboyant signature heart.

Jihoon counts 70,000 won in the stack. Was this a joke? But no one would give up so much money for a joke. Must be some kind of gift from an admirer. But who could it be when everyone at school despises him? Although, the kids at his school aren't normal after all. They sure were dedicated, if anything. Surely, it couldn't be . . . a teacher?

How many people could know about his ratty sneakers, anyway? It's not like he goes anywhere other than school and the grocery store. Not that there's anywhere else to go.

And If it came from anyone dangerous, surely he could just beat them up, right?

Jihoon shoves the contents back into the envelope and decides to investigate tomorrow, electing to finish his to-do list. He finishes studying quickly, and with even more fervor than intended, his workout as well. Satisfied with this amount of productivity, he cooks a small dinner and finally freshens up.

His shower is longer than normal. He closes his eyes and lets the steaming hot water sting his skin. Against his will, his mind drifts back and forth between school and the mystery note until he gets out. He sluggishly gets dressed, muscles aching slightly, and brushes his teeth. He slips into his bed despite his damp hair, pulling the covers above his face, a final comfort. He'd go back to work the next day and everything would be fine. He is settling in for sleep, but his eyes shoot open when he realizes.

He brought that pile of mail in yesterday. And that red envelope wasn't in it.

~ Earlier that week ~

It was late at night and the store was about to close when he came. The door bell rang gently as he opened it.

"Welcome," a boy called halfheartedly, not looking up from the ground which he was sweeping around his register. The man noted his dirty sneakers that look like they'd been worn to death. Oh, that won't do.

He nearly rolled his eyes as he looked around, unimpressed with the compact layout and monotone color palette. The lame interior design and general rundown nature of the store made for a strangely suffocating feel, as though someone had attempted to make it as boxy and uncomfortable as possible. He'd heard something about this store being owned by a guy who was some bigshot gangster back in the day. Maybe the guy went broke.

He began to peruse the aisles, not searching for anything in particular but watching out of the corner of his eye. That boy wasn't paying attention to him. It was a smart choice to wear boring black clothing, not typical of him, but that was his idea. Though his hair was rather notable, bright red streaks throughout his natural black hair. He had tried to brush it out of his face and pulled his hood over.

He circled the aisles closest to the registers, looking for something to buy that made some sense and settled on a couple air fresheners for his car.

When he went to pay, the boy stopped sweeping and quickly rang up his items. He didn't look at him, only asking something about whether he had found what he was looking for. The man quietly affirmed. He paid in cash and took the plastic bag.

When he reached for it, the boy finally made eye contact. The ever so slight dilation of his pupils and raise of his brows did not go unnoticed by the man, who merely offered a polite smile.

He left the store without another word, hands in pockets and eyes closing. It was gonna be a bitch to walk all the way back to his car, which was parked on the far outskirts of the town.

Back inside the store, Jihoon watched curiously the stranger to whom he had just sold car fresheners walk off into the darkness, not a car in sight.

#lookism #lookism dg #kang dagyeom #james lee #lee jihoon #diego kang #na jaegyeon #dg x jaegyeon #webtoon #manhwa

25 notes · View notes

mangoshorthand · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! I saw your Five Hargreeves oneshots and wanted to submit one if that's alright. Could you do one where the reader has a fascination with hypnosis and tries it out of Five. It works, but it ends up affecting them both more than they thought, leading to smut. I loved the way the reader took care of Five in Lucking Fucking Pillow and I like the idea of Five letting his mind shut off in order to take a break. If you don't want to do hypnosis can I request some Sub!Five fluff/smut? Thank you!♥

Not the biggest fan of hypno so I went for Sub!Five fluff/smut. I tried to incorporate the idea of Five taking a break and being mesmerised, (even if not literally!). Hope you enjoy xx

In Your Hands | Five Hargreeves/ GN Reader 3.1k words, Rated E

He thought retirement was all he wanted: he envisioned himself kicking back, perhaps taking up fishing or birdwatching or golf or whatever old dogs like him were supposed to do. So, at first, he threw himself into it, wearing a lot of khaki, flannel and tennis shoes and wandering around the city waiting for relaxation to occur.

But, somehow, it never seemed to happen: fishing and birdwatching made him want to tear out his hair, golfers were all assholes (plus he could never get the fucking ball to go where he wanted it to) and he very quickly exhausted his appetite for museums, art galleries and attractions.

The resulting feeling was very much like boredom. With dismay, he found that he was as ill-suited to an idle life as he was to khaki and flannel. Perhaps it was having the body and brain chemistry of someone in his early twenties, or maybe it was something more essential. It wasn’t, as his siblings liked to insist, that he got off on the thrill of an impending apocalypse, but Five’s was certainly a mind that needed a bone to gnaw on.

His first project was his car. He’d first scoured the country for the perfect 1970 Corvette Stingray and then fixed it up to his liking. For months, he could be found in Academy’s parking garage, head under the hood or entirely underneath the jacked-up car and cursing softly as he tweaked, tinkered and optimized the engine.

He was obsessed, living on the intricacies of the work. The mechanical nature of it appealed to his meticulous nature: the little problems to smooth away and the occasional need to think outside the box. He would lie awake at night, brain raking over how to coax the reluctant carburetor into better operation again and again.

As much fun as he had, as with every project, there came a point where he couldn’t do any more. When the car returned from the body shop with a reconstructed paint job, she was in as perfect condition as such an old car could be- there was nothing for him to do but drive her. This was enjoyable, but didn’t give his brain enough to chew on long term.

So, since then, he threw out the idea of retirement along with the incongruous clothing. He just let his brain carry him wherever it wanted to go: sometimes that was recreation and relaxation, at other times it was chasing his latest obsession.

But there was a problem: when ‘on the job’, Five knew no moderation. He’d work on this latest thing for hours into the night, neglecting you and running himself ragged into the bargain. It came of having to obsess in order to stay alive during the apocalypse; he’d learned this crazed single-mindedness there, and it was as if he knew no other way to be.

So when you found him in his dad’s office, hair sticking up in all directions and surrounded by stacks of books, newspapers and an entire chalkboard’s worth of calculations, you sighed heavily.

“What are you on this time, Five?”

“Samuel Shawcross!”

“What?”

“Samuel Shawcross,” he repeated, flicking through the pages of a book feverishly.

“You mean the…aerospace guy?”

“Exactly!” he said, a slightly mad look in his eye, “The billionaire owner of Atlas Aerospace, both famed and mocked for his researches into time travel. An asshole who's shadier than a ten foot parasol.”

You snort laughter at this, but amusement fades as you watch him flip over the chalkboard to write on the other face.

“Billionaires are always shady. Look at your dad.”

“I know!” he said, impatiently, dropping the chalk “and that’s exactly the problem. He and Dad- they knew one another. They were working on stuff together! Look. Look at this!”

He handed you a piece of paper, dated a short while before Reginald’s death. It seemed like the final page of a letter.

-the success of my latest round of testing, I can surmise that it will be extremely appealing to you as well as our associates. I intend for it to be ready within the next decade. Onwards and upwards! Your friend, Samuel Shawcross

You look from the letter, back up at Five.

“Where’s the rest of it?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” he said, beginning to pace like a caged tiger, “it’s nowhere.”

“But it could mean anything.” you say, confused.

“Don’t you get it?” he said, eyes wide, “The old man was an asshole but he sure as hell wasn’t slapdash. If the other half of this letter is gone, then it means that Dad deliberately destroyed it or someone else took it. And the only reason either of those things would happen is if it was sensitive information!”

You looked down at the letter and then doubtfully back up at him.

“Five, it’s been years since your father died. How many people have been in and out of here since then? It could just have been lost. Knocked off a table or something and then thrown out. You told me Klaus ransacked this place.”

“That letter says this device could be ready any time now. We gotta know what it is, surely? If some idiot like Shawcross gets his hands on time travel then we’re all on paradox highway, heading to kugel-town!”

You dropped the letter on the desk and took him by the lapels, feeling his fast breathing. His raised heart rate was perceptible even beneath layers of fabric.

“You’re running away with yourself, Five. Who says this is a time travel device? Who says it’s a device of any kind? Maybe it’s a…a recipe for a really great cocktail or something?”

“What cocktail recipe takes ten years to develop?” he said, though sounding slightly less sure.

“Isn’t this for the Commission to deal with, anyway?” you say, quietly, pressing your body against his, “Why, when they have the Infinite Switchboard, is this down to one sexy boy and his chalkboard?”

The back of his thighs hit his father’s desk. He swallowed, his sturdy adam’s apple bobbing as he looked into your eyes. He found that they pulled his inexorably into their own depths.

smut below cut

Suddenly, what had consumed him so fully seemed less important to focus on than the insistent press of your body and the tug of your eyes. Yet he couldn’t quite stop the whirring of his mind. The little ‘what ifs’ and ‘whys’ churned and fired away like the engine of his Corvette.

You turned your attention to his throat, to the prominence of cartilage that had betrayed his interest. You leaned towards him and laid a kiss there. It was a small kiss: barely more than a peck, but his skin lit up with gooseflesh.

You smirked at the sight.

Five felt his jaw go slack as you moved your face to whisper in his ear, making sure your breath fluttered across his neck along a slow, teasing path.

“Are you stressed, baby?” you whispered, oh-so quietly.

He nodded dumbly, your voice running into his ears like honey, obscuring all other sounds.

“That big old brain of yours giving you trouble?”

“Yes,” he croaked, letting his knees go and leaning against the desk for support.

“So clever, aren’t you? Sometimes it’s nice to just…let go.”

He didn’t respond, instead closing his eyes as one of your hands crept to the other side of his neck and stroked him lazily. The already pebbled skin bristled and a pleasant chill crept down his spine.

He so wanted to let go. He moved into your touch, quietly asking for more.

At this, you hummed delightedly into his ear.

““You always take such good care of me, Five.” you whispered, “You even try to take care of the whole world…but let me take care of you for once. Just let it all go.”

He nodded again, not trusting his voice.

“Shall I help you relax?”

Another nod.

“I don’t hear you, Five,” you said, with a touch of playful reproach.

“Yes please,” he whispered, quickly; eager to please.

You kissed his lips and felt him yield easily to your caresses. You burrowed your hands into his hair, pulling gently. He made a small noise into your mouth and melted into you further: letting himself be kissed. Your lips, firm but soft, communicated all you wanted to tell him: tonight, he was in your hands.

As a sharp heat built within you, you withdrew, unable to help nibbling at his lower lip as you did so.

He looked at you with a patiently expectant expression: ready for you to do with him as you wished. To you, Five was always perfect, but in this mood? He looked practically edible as he looked back at you. His swollen lips were parted, shining with traces of salvia. His fine green eyes were guileless and mesmerized. Undeniably delectable.

You felt a rush of something as you looked at him. So cute and charming, it actually hurt. There was nothing to do but grab his tie and twist it in your fingers, your other hand drifting down his body.

He let out a soft ‘oh’ as you cupped his clothed crotch, weighing his arousal in your hand.

“Hard already?” you said, as if disbelieving, “you must really need me, huh?”

He capitulated to the game without a second thought: it was the path of least resistance now that his cock was as hard as a battering ram and throbbing with the need to feel skin on skin.

“I do, I really need you,” he breathed.

“Are you desperate?” you said, giving his swollen package a little squeeze.

“Yes,” he groaned, “I’m desperate, okay?”

You stepped smartly away from him and he took confused half-step forward to follow you but you turned on your heel and walked swiftly away.

“W-wait,” he said, uncomprehendingly, “please don-”

But he understood as he heard the key click in the lock, locking the door of his father’s office against would-be intruders. You turned back to face him.

“Get undressed baby.”

He nodded again, grateful and certain in the knowledge that he was safe in your hands. He shrugged off his jacket as his numb fingers fumbled with his waistcoat. It was hard to concentrate on the task, so befuddled was his brain. This was complicated further by the sight before him. As his layers of clothing fell away, so did yours. You’d already stripped off your top, revealing the chest that he could never tire of touching, stroking and kissing.

His gorgeous eyes followed you reverently as you removed the rest of your clothes and moved to sit behind the desk. You leaned back comfortably in the commodious desk chair., noting with amusement the way he tripped over his own pants and underwear as he took them off.

Soon, he was standing there in only his socks.

“Come here,” you said, patting your knee, “come and sit nice and close against me, okay?”

He obeyed, looking around uncertainly just as he was about to sit, unsure how you wanted him. Taking him around the waist, you guided him onto your lap.

“That’s it baby. Lean back. Feel me against you.”

He sighed as he did so, losing himself in your touch: in your palm rubbing a comforting circle onto the firm plates of his lower stomach. He reclined fully, resting his head beside yours, his neck forming a graceful arch.

He let out a little puff of air at the feeling of your warmth: the closeness of being cradled this way. It was bliss and it held the promise of more bliss to come.

“I got you, sweetie.”

He made a little noise in response and, smiling, you pecked gently at his pulse point. There, his heart was coming to a slower, steadier rhythm as he relaxed into you. His breathing, you noticed, was becoming deeper, even as his cock stood out proud; a loud exclamation point between his thighs.

You kissed again and again at his neck, the backs of your fingers drifting up and down his stomach. Five didn’t verbally object to this little tease, but couldn’t stop himself nuzzling and butting softly at your cheek, asking you to take him in hand in much the same way as an insistent cat might ask to be petted.

When you didn’t immediately give in, he squirmed against you, restlessly. Spreading his legs wide and arching his back. You hissed in air as his perfect ass wiggled sinfully against your crotch.

Then, it was his turn to hiss as your fingers, on their drift down his stomach, brushed against his swollen, deep pink tip. When you flittled your fingers back up his stomach, he actually whined.

“Please. Please touch me properly down there.”

He certainly sounded desperate.

“It’s okay, baby,” you said, kissing his temple, “of course I will.”

So you wrapped your fingers around his shaft and he made a sweet, formless, high pitched little sound.

He exceeded your hand’s grasp, but not by so much that he couldn’t feel completely enveloped by you. As you massaged his straining dick, you smoothed away the final, lingering preoccupation of his mind, his hitherto furrowed brow clearing and settling into smoothness.

You and the mounting pleasure were the only real things to him as you stroked him, your other hand ghosting lightly across his thigh. He sighed softly, spreading his legs even wider for you as the hand moved to cup and softly rub his balls, your thumb working in a slow, languid circle.

“Feel good, darling?”

He nodded against your cheek, body going heavy in your arms. One hand gripped the buttoned leather of the chair’s arm, and the other stretched back, over his head to brace himself against the chair’s back.

As you stroked him this way, there was just enough of Five left to be satisfied by this situation. What a way to stick it to the old man! What would he say if he knew that Number Five was getting jacked off in his desk chair? What better middle finger to the old bastard than by desecrating his precious study by being a total slut in here?

But as your warm, clever fingers brought him closer to the edge, all thoughts of Reginald were (thankfully) driven away by the deep desire smoldering in his guts, his tingling nerves and the mounting adrenaline.

He groaned a soft ‘oh’ as your hand delivered a particularly harsh jolt of pleasure.

You kissed his cheekbone.

“I love making you feel good, baby.”

He only sighed in response.

Your hand briefly left his shaft to swipe at the pearl of precome beading heavily at his tip. Half of this, you rubbed down the length of his shaft, to slicken your hand as you finished him. You gathered the rest, however, wet, hot and sticky on your finger tips.

You raised it to his face and his lips parted. An eager tongue lapped and licked at the seed coating your fingers.

“You like that?” you asked, delightedly

“Yes,” he breathed, recovering himself enough to speak, “fuck, I think I’d like anything you want to give me.”

“God, I love you,” you gushed, unable to stop yourself smiling at his complete change in attitude; the swing straight from manic energy to submissive desire.

“I love you.” he babbled, “I love you so much.”

At this, he angled his face up towards yours with needy entreaty, so gave him the asked-for attention and kissed him again. He was going to come quickly: you could tell by the way he suckled gently but needily at your lips.

When you broke apart, his heavily-lidded eyes didn’t leave your face, looking up at you with hazy adoration. You kissed his silky hair and held his gaze.

“I’m going to make you come now, baby. I’m going to make you feel so good.”

“Yes.” he murmured, “Yes please.”

You sped your strokes, his tip making a satisfying thwap thwap thwap against your thumb on each upstroke.

His asscheeks tensed and his hips jumped upward to meet your ministrations, whispering a steady stream of rhapsodic affirmations.

“Yes,” he said, “Yeeesss. Oh God, please!”

Tight little moans were creaking from deep in his throat. He sounded like a tiny, feral thing caught in a death grip.

You grasped him tighter and he whined, socked feet scraping and whispering against the turkish rug as he struggled for purchase. His hip bones stood out against his skin as he curled backwards, rubbing his hair into further disarray against your shoulder.

“Fuuccck.”

“God, Five, you make me crazy.” you whispered, “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Mmmph!”

“Yeah, come on: that’s it.”

And then, at your encouragement, his cock pumped against your grasp. His hips surged forwards helplessly with each throb. He gasped shrilly, bucking and grinding against you and crying out in rapture.

“There you go baby,” you said, voice full of lascivious satisfaction, “There you go.”

You lengthened your downstrokes, milking him for all the pleasure you could, noting with satisfaction the way his come splashed copiously onto your arm and wrist.

“Yes. Oh fuck. Yes. Fuck,” he chanted, “Yes. Fuck yes. Thank you!”

His thighs trembled like a nervous terrier as you pulled the final few spurts of come out of him. As the ropes turned to drops, the trembling lessened into sporadic twitches. He breathed long, shaky ‘Ohs’ into your ear as he enjoyed the waning spikes of satisfaction. Gradually, you slowed and then stopped your hand.

Five lay spent against you, his breathing relaxed but shallow. His eyes were closed, head leaning entirely on yours. There was nowhere for you to go with him weighing you down, so you ignored the come getting tacky on your skin and folded your arms around his chest.

“Did I make you feel good, baby?”

A confirmatory grunt sounded from his throat. Clearly, he was in no state to say more. So you took the rare opportunity of Five’s being silenced to whisper to him:

“I love you. You’re so perfect. I love taking care of you like this. You deserve it, sweetie: you really do. You need to relax a little, okay? Get out of your own head now and then. You can’t always be on the go.”

He made no answer but a sleepy smile. After a couple of minutes of silence, you spoke to him again.

“Are you still planning to investigate Samuel Shawcross?”

“Who?” he said, a trace of humor in his dragging voice.

“Attaboy,” you said, placing a final kiss into his hair.

Megalist

Request info + rules

NOTE:

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See request info + rules for request status and more.

#sorry I suck at choosing gifs #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy smut #the umbrella academy five #umbrella academy number five #umbrella academy five x reader #umbrella academy five x you #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #number five imagine #five hargreeves imagine #number 5 imagine #number 5 x reader #number five x you

360 notes · View notes

liquid-geodes · 2 years ago

Text

WHY has no one talked about the way Freddy says "I could open this gate if I had Monty's claws"?

He says it SO tauntingly, like he WANTS you to go decomission Monty for his claws. And when you compare it to the timid way he says "This requires Chicas voice to open" It's even CLEARER that between the two, he doesn't feel a very strong resentment towards the idea of having Monty's claws

And I think that couples EXTREMELY WELL with the sadness in his voice when you take him up to Bonnie Bowl, the way he says "I do not come up here anymore... I miss him..." With so much grief. You can feel it in his tone that Bonnie is still an open wound for him, and why wouldn't it be? Bonnie has been with Freddy since the very start, Freddy has NEVER existed without Bonnie until now. Yes he's known Chica for a long time, but not NEARLY as long as he's known Bonnie.

So yeah, he hesitates with Chica's voice gates. He knows from the start what would need to happen to his friends in order for him to open these gates the way they do, and he just doesn't seem to care about that when it comes to Monty.

And I think it's incredibly telling of Freddy as a character and what he believes happened to Bonnie:

He thinks it was Monty's fault.

He blames Monty for what happened to Bonnie, even though Monty is JUST the replacement. Monty wasnt made specifically to replace Bonnie. Bonnie was decommissioned, the company needed a bass player for parties, Monty was there, so they sent him to parts and services and gave him the necessary upgrade needed to fill the role. Monty wasnt MADE to play the bass. He was made for mini golf.

We as a player know that Monty wasnt responsible for what happened to Bonnie (depending on which ending you pursue and how much attention you're paying to it) but Freddy doesn't know that. Freddy doesn't know about Burntrap, doesn't get to see Bonnie's parts being used on his body. To Freddy, Bonnie was taken out so Monty could gain popularity. Who wouldn't hate that when it meant your best friend was no longer around?

And I think that's another reason why Monty is so aggressive. Sure Freddy talks up this big game of his band mates being his friends, but does Monty truly feel welcome amongst them? He wasn't made for music and glamor. He was made for golf and carefree fun, low expectations and an easy going day to day life of helping little kids play mini golf. Now he's a star, one of the most important animatronics in the whole pizzaplex. He has to be liked or else he'll end up like Bonnie too.

He's out of his element with big shoes to fill, a position he knows he'll never live up to. And now THE star of the show, the guy who's name is on the building, essentially snubs him before he even gets to know him, all because he's convinced Monty had something to do with why Bonnie was decommissioned.

But Monty doesn't know that.

How could he?

How would Monty guess that Freddy didn't like him because he thought he was to blame? There's no way he'd know that, so he assumes it's because he's just not good enough. So he tries harder at every performance, each show is an opportunity to prove his worth.

So when Freddy drops in the middle of a show? It sets him off. That was his opportunity of the day to prove that he belonged in the band. It's like Freddy didn't want him to be there SO BAD he'd malfunction and ruin the show over letting Monty prove himself.

And maybe thats why Monty spends so much time up on the catwalks over Monty golf. Clearly he doesn't feel welcomed by Freddy, so why hang around Rockstar Row any more than he has to? I'm sure Chica and Roxy are indifferent (at least Roxy probably. I'm sure Chica likes Monty just fine, even with a dull ache from Bonnje being gone) to Monty being there now, but Monty is probably thoroughly convinced that since Freddy doesn't like him, it's game over for him. Freddy's word is probably law around here considering the place is named after him, so Chica and Roxy would probably go along with it if Freddy decided Monty wasnt cutting it.

So yeah, he'd retreat to the one place he could ever call his own, the one place that was made just for him. The only place he truly belonged. Monty Golf is his safe haven from Freddy, because Freddy had NEVER had ANY say over what happens in there. Freddy can ignore him and be mad at him in the Atrium all he wants, but Monty Golf is HIS place. Monty Golf is whatever HE decides it is.

But now he's isolated, in a building that's supposed to bring nothing but joy. Of course he grows bitter, watching the other three get along just great while he's forced to watch from the outside. Of course it hurts, it makes him angry and confused on WHY he's just not good enough, why doesn't he deserve that as well? Was it because he wasn't Bonnie? Was it because he just wasn't living up to everyone's expectations?

Never in a million years would he guess that this all stemmed from Freddy's suspicion that he was responsible for Bonnie's decommissioning

Idk, just something I noticed today while replaying Security Breach. His tone at a Monty gate is chillingly carefree for what he's insinuating, and he doesn't dare take that tone when talking about a Chica gate... it's all very suspicious to me and I wouldn't trust Freddy to be alone with Monty after that

#idk its just my theory #although the messages you find in game support this a LOT #lots of evidence on this one lads ngl #security breach fnaf #fnaf security breach #five nights at freddy's security breach #fnaf montgomery gator #montgomery gator #freddy fazbear #fnaf freddy #glamrock freddy #glamrock chica #roxanne wolf #fnaf roxy

289 notes · View notes

obxone · 1 year ago

Text

Vigilante Shit (Chapter Four)

Edited-ish. ~2.8k words

Tag list: @fishingirl12 @gillybear17 @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gills-lounge @emmafitzzz @redfieldfx @baby19sthings

Masterpage

You stretch your legs, flexing up on the balls of your feet to release the ache in your calves. A sigh from how good it feels leaves you before you plop down onto the stone steps leading to the parking lot. Mav said he would be out after swapping his golf shoes and closing out his tab for the day. And you are happy to wait for him after his promise that it would be worth waiting around a little longer.

A body drops onto the steps next to you as you take a sip of the lemonade you brought with you. “Don’t want to go home yet?” Rafe asks, his voice low. He stares out at the parking lot; his elbows braced on his knees. "You never used to want to go home."

“I do actually, but I’m waiting on Mav.” You swirl your lemonade a little so that your hands have something to do along with your focus. Not looking at Rafe is in your best interest, especially when he is this close to you. “You should go back to your buddies, Rafe. Leave this low life to herself.”

“You heard that?”

“Of course I did! I’m not deaf.”

He rolls his eyes. “He didn’t mean it.”

You laugh. “What? Of course, he did. This is Topper we are talking about.” You stand and look down at him. He stares up at you. Something familiar and stomach twisting reflects at you in his blue eyes. “Go back inside, Rafe. If you keep talking to me, people will notice.”

“And? Let them talk. I don’t care about that shit.”

You snort. “Since when?”

“Since always!” He looks at you like you have three heads as he stands abruptly. “You know me better than that.”

You shake your head, looking away from him. “I don’t know you at all. I never did.”

He steps closer to you. His chest brushes against your shoulder, and his breath fans over your face.

“Is that why you won’t look at me?” He asks, venom lacing his tone. "Is that why you started hooking up with fucking Barry?"

You bite your lip, trying to keep your composure. After a long pause, you blow out a breath and turn your attention to Rafe. “You know exactly why I can’t stand the sight of you.”

“No, I don’t,” he grits out. His fingers warm on your skin when he grabs your upper arm. “You have never told me.”

You frown, looking down at where he touches you. “Let me go, Rafe. Your buddies may not remember who I am right now, but when they figure it out, they won’t like you touching me. Especially your best buddy Top.”

His hand falls away, and he rolls his eyes but goes inside without pushing any further. Relief washes over you, and you glance at the lot. You should leave now before the risk of running into Topper increases or the chance of Rafe coming back does. But leaving Mav without an explanation is not what you want to do.

“Thinking about bailing?”

You spin to see Mav smiling at you in a teasing manner.

“Only a little.” You laugh. “Figured if your friends came that it might be best to get out of sight.”

He frowns, hands going into his pockets. “I’m sorry about them.”

You shake your head. “Topper is the one that called me a lowlife, not you.”

His frown deepens before he glances over his shoulder. “He’s an asshole. Can I at least walk you to your car?”

“Sure,” you smile and walk side by side. “So… did you at least kick his ass in golf?”

He shakes his head with a chuckle. “Only a little.”

“Better than nothing right?” You murmur before stopping at your car. “Well, this is me.”

He glances over at your car. Eyebrows scrunch together when he fixates on something. “Is that a bookmark hanging from the mirror?”

“Yes,” you laugh, glancing at it. “It is scented.”

“What does it smell like?”

You shrug, leaning against your car. Your feet aching after hours of running around the Island Club. “Mr. Darcy.”

“Mr. Darcy…” He rubs his hand over the back of his neck. You can tell he is nervous after he exhales and rolls his shoulders. “A Pride and Prejudice girl then, huh?”

You smile a little. “So, the kook academy has Jane Austen on their syllabus?”

“Just the one book.”

He moves closer and touches you. His fingers skate across the back of your hand and down to your fingers.

“What’s going on, Mav?”

He smiles a little before clearing his throat. “Would you go on a date with me please?”

“Oh.”

His smile falters, and a small pang shoots through your heart at the sight of it. “If that isn’t…”

“No,” you rush, cutting him off. “I’m just surprised given… the reactions,” you say softly, gesturing at the Island Club. “Kooks and pogues do not tend to mix that way.”

“I don’t care.”

You laugh before tipping your head as you study him over. “All right then, I would love to.”

He grins so wide you wonder if his cheeks will pop. “Great, can I have your number now?”

“Yes.” You cannot help but to blush before he hands his cell phone to you. You input your number and hand it back. “So, I guess I will see you for our date.”

His fingers slot through the spaces of your own, and you glance down at your joined hands. “How is tonight?”

You smile before meeting his gaze again. “Sounds perfect.”

He steps that last bit closer, and his lips brush your cheek. “Tonight, six pm. I’ll text you for your address, okay?”

“Okay,” you murmur, tipping your head back to look at him. “I should get going. I need to check on my brothers.”

“Okay.” He relents and takes a step away. You also take a step back before reaching for your door handle. “Hang on!” He steps closer to you once more. His hands cup your face, and he leans down to press his lips to yours. It is only a simple press of his lips against yours. It makes your heart flutter. “I’ve been dying to do that.”

You laugh and wrap your hands around his wrists. “I’ve kind of wanted you to do that.”

He pecks your lips again, and you blush before he lets go and takes two steps back. “See you soon, y/n.”

“See you.”

----

“Hold on. You met a guy at the beach and then again at work today. He is friends with Rafe and Topper, he kissed you, and now you’re going out with him?” JJ asks, dumbfounded, as he moves around the living room, trying to find his backpack.

You finish tying your shoelaces and stand to adjust your skirt. “Yup.”

“Well,” John B muses, enjoying the tables turning now that you have a kook interested in you, all the while flipping a pen that he found on the coffee table over and over in his hand.

“Oh, be quiet, Lover Boy.” You glare at him in warning, and he smirks, chewing on the end of his pen. “And you!” You turn to JJ, your tone accusatory enough that he freezes in his spot. “Don’t think I don’t notice how you look at Kie.”

John B laughs loudly, head tossed back while JJ splutters in shock.

“That’s what I thought,” you sass him, and John B’s laughter increases. You smile at him before turning your attention back to JJ. “Have you even told her?”

John B smirks at his friend before meeting your gaze. “What do you think?”

“No! JJ, why not?”

He shrugs, scrubbing his hand through his blond locks. You can read the stress on him clear as day, and he will not look at you for a second. But then those stressed blue eyes turn onto you. “I’ve tried, okay? I’ve tried that door, and it is locked.”

You stare at him for a second, trying to understand if he is being truthful. When he stares back at you with a distant look in his eyes, you know that he is telling the truth. “Fine, but I think she does too.”

John B smirks, looking at the pen. “But then there’s Pope…”

“Pope-schmope.” You mutter, and they both crack and smile at that. “He isn’t my brother, and they would never last. Pope needs someone that challenges him in other ways. Kiara isn’t meant for him.”

You love Pope, you always will, but you know all three of them. Pope and Kiara would never make it. They would be fine at first, but in the end, Kiara would get bored, and she would break his heart. It was better to do it now before they got too deep.

“But Pope likes her,” John B responds before JJ can.

You frown, glancing around the room. “Well… you know my opinion. Time is short.”

JJ nods, looking away before he finds his backpack under the sofa. He yanks it out and grins before shouldering it on. He kisses your cheek before he passes by you for the door. “Have fun on your date. Be careful, promise?”

“Promise.” You smile, patting his chest. “You be safe, promise?” You return the request just like you used to when you were kids and had to split up to hide from Luke in his drunken rages. Both boys hug you tightly, squeezing you into their group hug. “John B?” You ask, keeping your voice soft as you stare at the brown-eyed bonus brother.

“Yeah?”

“Promise?”

“Promise, y/n.”

“Good!”

He pecks your cheek before the hug ends, and you smile at both.

“You know that you’re welcome to come stay here if you ever need to. I don’t mind vouching for you.”

He smiles, hugging you again. “Thank you, but home is the last thing I have with my dad.”

“I understand,” you say quickly, cutting him off. “I’m the big sister. I just want to do my best at it.”

He nods, a sad gleam in his eyes, and you have to look away.

“Either way, stop by here as much as you want. Dinner is always an option.”

Both boys show a smile before they hustle out together, talking about their evening plans at The Point. You laugh, watching them go. At times it still feels like they are eight again and causing chaos in their wake—eight years of solid friendship.

A few minutes later, the sound of a car honking has you smiling, and you check yourself in the mirror, fluffing your hair before glancing as Mav knock’s on the screen door. He grins at you, and you blush, looking down at your outfit to make sure you look as decent as he does in his clean, pressed oxford shirt and shorts. His muscled tan forearms are on display as he leans against the frame. Your heart rate increases at the tall, dark, and handsome man in your doorway waiting on you.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

“Hi,” you smile brightly and cross the small distance to the door. After collecting your crossbody, you push the screen door open and pull the main door shut. He waits for you to lock it before he grasps your hand tightly. “Do I get to know what we are doing tonight?”

“Dinner and then ice cream…” He muses. “Maybe a walk by the docks…”

You grin up at him. “I love that.”

“Good!” He smiles and opens the car door for you. He helps you in before closing the door and jogging around to get in. You look around the car, the smell of expensive leather and his cologne mixing in the confined space. Mav stares at you, a smile tugging at his lips. “Everything okay?”

“Mm-hmm.” You meet his gaze, and he smiles before leaning into you. Your lips press, and you hum, kissing him back. After a moment, you part and you squeeze his hand. “I’m starving.”

Both of you laugh, and he begins the drive to the restaurant. “Understood.”

Dinner and ice cream go perfectly. Your face hurts from how much you are smiling and laughing at his jokes. You are enjoying your time with Mav, and you hope he is feeling the same. Mav’s hand holds yours as you walk along the boardwalk together. You smile up at him when you both come to a stop at the end of the dock. “I had a wonderful time tonight.”

“Great,” he responds, his other hand moves up to touch your face. His thumb skates over your chin. “Me too. I was nervous at first.”

You lean up on your toes and press your lips to his. He kisses you back, his touch sliding down your back to pull you closer. You smile against his lips before stepping away.

“Care to watch the sunset with me, Beautiful?”

“Absolutely,” you beam up at him before glancing at the pinkening sky as the day gets ready to end.

“Mav!”

Both of you turn to see Rafe and Topper strolling down the dock. Your hand finds Mav’s, and you squeeze it while worry floods over you.

“Are we interrupting something?” Topper smirks, his gaze fixated on your clasped hands, and your stomach turns as he openly checks you out again.

You slip closer to Mav, and he is aware of it. His arm loops around your waist to tug you against his side.

“Yes.”

Topper’s smirk widens, and he glances at Rafe, whose attention is fixated on you and only you. You look back at him, your skin prickling as a dangerous smile slowly spreads across his lips.

“Top,” Rafe starts, clasping his hands in front of him in anticipation. You swallow, tightening your hand on Mav’s shirt. “You remember her, right?”

Mav looks at you in confusion, but you continue to watch Rafe. A challenge in both of your eyes, because if he does this then the entire game changes.

“From the Island Club, our server,” Topper smiles, nudging Rafe. “I know she is a pogue, it has only been a few hours, Rafe.”

Rafe smirks, shaking his head before he fixates his attention on you. “No, no, Top. No,” Rafe murmurs with a shake of his head. “You really don’t remember her?”

Topper looks between you both, confusion written plainly across his face. “No, I don’t.”

“Tell him who you are, Angel.”

Topper’s eyes widen, and realization dawns on his face. “Y/n Maybank?”

You look away, clearing your throat before staring back at him. “So what?”

“What is going on?” Mav finally speaks, and you look at him. It takes everything in you not to lash out at Rafe, but keeping your history where it belongs wins out. You are starting fresh. You refuse to be pulled back into those messy dark depths you had crawled out of during your time away from the OBX.

“We used to be friends of sorts,” you offer, and his hand tightens around your waist. “I can explain more when we are alone…”

“She used to be my girlfriend,” Rafe offers his voice hollow and void of emotion. But his eyes blaze with unspoken turmoil.

Mav shifts to get a better look at you. You nod once, cheeks heating. He squeezes your waist before turning to the other two.

“Okay.” He shrugs. “I have ex-girlfriends. Her past doesn’t matter to me.”

You inhale sharply with relief, your fingers clasping his against your side. His thumb brushes yours in comfort. Mav realizes just how wide the gap between kooks and pogues is at this moment.

“If you’ll excuse us, guys. I’m going to finish up my date and take her home.”

Mav guides you through the space between Rafe and Topper. Rafe glares at him, and Topper smirks at you, but you ignore him, clinging to Mav’s hand. He opens the car door for you. Hesitating, you press your free hand to his chest.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” He asks, moving closer. His body crowds you against the side of the car. “Having dated someone?”

You nod, frowning before glancing as the sound of two motorbikes drive by. A spidery chill crawls down your spine because you know who sits atop the two bikes. Mav’s hand cups your face, turning your attention back to him.

“No reason to apologize.”

You smile weakly, attempting to let go of the anxiety building in you. He tips your chin back by hooking his finger under your chin.

“Relax, pretty girl. Rafe and Topper do not scare me.” He leans down, his lips brushing yours before he kisses you. You kiss him back, fisting his shirt at his sides. After a moment, the kiss ends, and you smile up at him. Relief washes over you, and you peck his lips. “We could go to the beach and count stars since our sunset was ruined. Or do you have a curfew?”

You laugh, burying your face in his chest and inhaling his cologne. “No curfew.”

“Perfect.”

(Chapter Five)

Feedback is welcomed, just remember to be kind. Please feel free to like, reblog, comment, or send an ask if you want. Happy Reading.

Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list.

#outer banks #obx #rafe cameron #outer banks rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x maybanksibling!reader #outer banks barry #obx barry

102 notes · View notes

wolfawaycamp · 6 months ago

Note

🔮 RyLan first date and they end up mini golfing or something but it goes tragically and hilariously wrong bc it starts pouring rain, and ___?

🔮 It had been the perfect weather for a picnic. It really had. At 11 AM. But now it's 2 PM, and Dylan and Ryan are sitting, drenched, at a library study table with a dripping wet picnic basket between them.

“I brought chips, and sodas, and cakes, and everything- I made little sandwiches-” Dylan pouts, scuffing his wet shoes on the carpet of the library. He hadn't chosen the park across town, the one with the playground, and now he's realizing he lucked out: the park he had chosen was the one right across the street from the library.

The park was in the center of town, not ideal, not quiet, but it had picnic tables. Not a shelter, though. But it hadn't looked necessary, Dylan thought, as the morning had been relatively sunny. Maybe a little cloudy. Maybe… maybe he should have checked the weather.

Ryan reaches over the table to ruffle his damp hair, and despite how horrible his Reptar t-shirt feels clinging to his shoulders, Dylan grins.

“Let me go through the basket, okay?” Ryan asks, and Dylan nods. “See if there's anything worth saving. We can just eat here.”

Dylan pushes the basket towards Ryan--- ignoring the streak of water the damp wood leaves on the table--- and Ryan opens it.

“Oh!” Dylan's head cocks to the side. Ryan sounds… pleased.

“What is it?”

“Everything here is dry. The basket must have soaked up all the rain before it got to the food.”

“My little sandwiches are okay!?” Dylan pulls the basket in his direction again and peers in. Everything is dry. By the expression on his boyfriend's face, he must look thrilled. It's definitely about his date not being ruined. Definitely not about the little sandwiches.

Ryan snorts. “Yes, Dylan, the little sandwiches are okay.”

#the quarry #ficlet #ryan erzahler #ask box #dylan lenivy #rylan #fanfic #radioheads #request #ryan x dylan #dylan x ryan #castor #he's really broken up about his little sandwiches

17 notes · View notes

ovrrdogg · 28 days ago

Text

Deciding to share my tengolf family, even though its an old sketch, because why not. I was going to wait until I finished drawing the comic, but that might take a little longer than I would like. Ping is a bossy girl with a bad attitude and a penchant for getting into sticky situations, especially in the factory, especially especially if those situations involve chemical experiments. . . She hates failing and pushes herself to improve in her studies as much as possible. She'll spend days squirreled away in the corner of the lab, only stopping her work when her friends break in to forcefully convince her that yes, grass is still worth touching. NO she's not allergic. YES it's daylight outside, and do you know what day it is? What's the month. No it's not August anymore. Get outside before you forget what people are. Works for her family as a chemist. Special trait: Glows faintly green at all times! Can control the brightness somewhat, and can get about as bright as a phone screen, though it's draining and makes her more irritable (as hard as that is to believe.) Her brightness is largely regulared to her emotional state, and she can't turn this off. You'd be hard pressed to find where Pong is on a good day, or any day for that matter. Laid back and dilligent, Pong works hard so he can play hard (frequently combining the two concepts for his pranks!) Blocky's funny doings international enthusiast and professional IDGAFer. Worked for his family as an engineer and architect, but has since moved away from home with some friends. Probably in yoyleland but he didn't tell anyone where he was going. Special trait: None. He's perfect. Or at the very least, he's not here to tell you if he has one, or what it is. He may just be straight up missing. If he doesn't respond to this next text message and phone call Golf Ball is calling the authorities. To get a good mental image of Pickleball, let me give you the basics of her human design: Gir hoodie with striped patches in the sleeves, Kandi on both arms and sillybandz on the legs. Glitter and fluff and knee high converse and checker patterns and big teased hair dyed bright green with black and white rosette spots and stripes and hair extensions. If you're not already overwhelmed by that description, Pickleball herself is sure to do the rest. Fast and friendly, Pickleball will bowl you over with the power of love and friendship. Before you know it you're on your second sleepover and are on your way to a bowling alley that knows your shoe size by heart at this point. She's the youngest in the family, and the most free-spirited. Not a day goes by where she's not with her friends, in person or virtually. "Works" for her family as a programmer, and loves to write experimental code for her father's inventions. Secret Flower stan. Special ability: Kitten eyes! A single starry eyed stare from Pickleball will have your resolve crumble like a sandcastle on the beach. You can't help but say yes to all her energetic ideas.

#osc #object show community #bfdi #tengolf family #tengolf fankids #fankids #tennis ball bfdi #bfdi tennis ball #golf ball bfdi #bfdi golf ball #OC Ping #OC Pong #OC Pickleball #long post #ovrrdoggart #procreate

15 notes · View notes

watermelonsugacry · 1 year ago

Note

OK I HAVE SO MANY THINGS I WANNA TALK 2 U ABOUT SO HERE IS ME RANTING AND PUTTING QUESTIONS:

I lovehe relationship yn has w the tomlinsons😫 like how she has a secrete handshake with the twins and how lottie is like her little sister and LOUIS IS LITERALLY A DREAM FRIENDSHIP

I have this thing where i like to think that yn was a big fan of paramore, and she also wrote some hits like only exeption (it just screams her and also it reminds me of how she would feel abt harry)

I also see her writing 'girl crush' when harry and taylor were dating and then saling it in 2014 but idk thats just me

And am i the only one who sees a PERFERT friendship between her and jennifer lawrence??

OK NOW I GOT SOME QUESTIONS SO HOPE THEY'RE NOT TOO MUCH

Whats the readers networth? Like i know that shes rich but how rich🤔

On a scale of 1-10 how famous is she? Like comparing to a big celebrity like Beyonce is she just as famous or..?

Whats her favorite colour?

Who is more clingy, harry or her?

Besides harry and louis who is her bestfriend that she hangs out w the most

What are some celebrities that got a crush on her and who has made that public

The weeknd has a song 'the party & after party' and it kind of sounds that hes describing a girl like yn "with your louis v bag, tats on your arms, high heels shoes make you 6 feet tall.." so are there some speculations ab this from the fans?

AND LAST is the reader the teaser in the relationship or does harry like to make fun of her more? ( srry if theres any mistakes)

IM ALWAYS DOWN FOR THIS LOVIE 💚

same!! they're family 🥰

funny enough, i actually picture a lot of paramore's music to be the music that yn would make with her band when she was in high school!

in the 1d!yn universe, she wrote Girl Crush!! (I remember talking about it a while ago on here but I forgot what year she wrote & sold it lol)

I don't know much about jennifer lawrence but thats an interesting pair 👀

I'll base it off of ariana grande's net worth at 240 million. But we all know that no number can amount to her actual worth 💅

I'd say that on a scale of 1-10, she's about an 8. She's a household name and an absolute force to be reckoned with. She's the type of famous that she forgets that she is and she'll record herself reacting to tiktoks lying down in bed, make-up free, and just lose her mind laughing. Or there was another time when she took herself out on a brunch date bc Harry went out to play golf that morning. Two girls approached her table and politely greeted her, said how much they loved her and had tickets to see her show that night. But before they could leave, YN invited them to sit with her and spent the rest of the morning eating and chatting with them.

Her favorite color is lavender 💜

Harry is the more clingy of the two! He's always the one who lays himself on top of her when she's about to get out of bed. When they arrive at the stadium he's going to perform at, her hand is constantly intertwined with his. When she's doing some last-minute rehearsals and sound checks, he's sitting at the edge of the room as he watches her work while still giving her her space. Or when she's in her home studio, he insists that she sits in his lap as she works because he's missed her all day, promising that he won't be a distraction to her (even though he totally is). And don't get it twisted, she can be clingy too sometimes; she's just better at hiding it.

Her other good friends that she hangs out with whenever she can are: Abel (the weeknd), Perrie Edwards, and Alisha Davies (an old friend from Doncaster turned choreographer).

oh my gosh where do I even begin?! There's a couple that initially come to mind: Matt Healy, Alex Turner, and Taron Egerton. For some reason, I can hear Matt say in an interview: "YN YLN is totally fit. Yeah, she's a fucking babe she is."

OOO definitely! Fans from both fan bases had speculated that they might have dated in 2017 (they didn't) bc that's when they hung out in public for the first time. Some people still speculate that Abel might have a crush on her til this day.

I'd say they share the teasing role. She throws playful jabs at him left and right, but she's the one who helped coax out that side of him. While they tease one another behind closed doors ALL the time, their favorite time to make fun of each other is at each other's shows.

#1d!yn asks #harry x 1dbandmember!reader #since 2010 series #1d!yn

68 notes · View notes

artleaguemdcnorth · 11 days ago

Text

DRAWING CLASS MIDTERM ASSIGNMENT STARTS AFTER CLASS TODAY . 10/29/2024

Bring Bristol Paper to class and graphite pencil.

Materials for Midterm, see below:

Choose between buying handmade paper below or using Bristol

Bristol 18 x 24 or

Arches handmade paper , 22x30 , hot press 120lbs.

Graphite pencils ONLY .

Kneaded eraser.

MIDTERM ASSIGNMENT - Review

This assignment is going to take many hours of work beyond class time.

A good assignment starts with a good prop.

I have been trying to instill that idea on all of you since the first day.

There is no reason to have a pop tart box in your midterm assignment or an olive oil bottle unless you are making a statement about nutrition or genetically modified ingredients in foods.

There are two components to your assignment this time, narrative and technical skills.

Narrative relates to your critical thinking skills and technical relates to your ability to define form through value.

You need to find a lighting condition that can let you express form. Adding a lamp or directional light will help you create a dramatic effect.

You will be using graphite pencils that range in value from HB to B8 .

Using a pencil requires that you use the side on the lead and not the point.

You do not want to scratch the paper , you want to render soft values that are blended as you work.

Smudging the paper is not a solution to developing values.

Value is developed by using various pencil grades.

HB is middle tone.

B1 is lighter than B4 but darker than HB.

I suggest you do some value charts with your pencils on your sketchbook .

Get in the habit of testing your values as you work.

Another tip that I can share, is that you use a tissue paper so that you do not smudge and stain the paper as you work.

This assignment will be graded at 30% of your overall class grade.

It is important that you treat the execution with outmost care.

I included below an A grade assignment from a previous student for you to consider as you begin your assignment.

You will have time to work on this beginning Thursday 10/31 through Sunday, Nov. 10 at 5 pm, to complete this assignment.

You will be working on this assignment at home on your own.

I will give you class time to also work on it.

You will also need to work on this assignment during Thursdays and homework time .

Here is the schedule for working on the Midterm:

Tuesday 10/29 begin working after class

Thursday 10/31 Asynchronous - work remotely

Tuesday 11/5 work remotely (no class)

Thursday 11/7 Asynchronous

Tuesday 11/12, bring the completed assignment for an in class for a critique.

The work by Lorena below took 40 hours to get to that stage of development. You can not work on this assignment for 40 hours at a time.

It will require a slow and methodic engagement of many days and weeks to complete this.

Do not procrastinate, pace yourself, it can be done.

Homework time after class beginning today :

Make sure to post progress on your Tumblr for each day you are working on this assignment.

I want students to show the progress of this assignment from the first day to the last.

Include a photo of your still life reference only on for the first day of this sequence , meaning today.

This is a Midterm Exam grade worth 30% of your overall class grade and you have to do it on your own.

I can not give you suggestions , I have already given you two examples of what an A grade assignment looks like.

This assignment can not look like your class work.

It needs to be superior in quality and content.

I have provided you with tools, artworks, history and other information to assist you in doing a good job.

Now you need to rise to the occasion to meet this challenge.

IMPORTANT NOTES AND TIPS :

1) Unless you are a shoemaker you should not include shoes in your drawing.

2) You should not include objects that are larger than the rest of your objects (footballs, basketballs, guitars, golf bag).

3) Your Still Life needs to be in a proper pedestal , table or platform with a backwall and proper lighting source.

4) I will include a video above of how to make a shadow box to improve your lighting and your imagery.

It is up to you if you want to use it or not.

This is a tool used by artist to create an atmosphere and lighting ambience for drama.

The shadow box can not be included in your drawing is just a tool to help you see shadows and value contrasts.

5) You cannot use charcoal pencils only Graphite Pencils.

6) Your objects cannot float so you must include reference to the horizon line , that is were your platform and the wall meet.

7) There are other students in this class, reach out to them. Feel free to seek peer support from each other back and forth. Share suggestions and photos and process of your work .

Tuesday during class is the day to ask any questions .

Bring all questions at that time.

Please see student work below:

Excellent Artwork

Good set up but with an unfinished background.

DUE DATE FOR THIS CLASS:

NOVEMBER 12,24 .

BRING WORK TO CLASS FOR AN IN CLASS CRITIQUE

2 notes · View notes

thinlinez · 2 years ago

Text

End of Year Writer Rec

Disclaimer: I have never done a rec before but I feel like these writers who had made my 2022 with their wonderful fics deserve a shoutout! The list is in no particular order and I will also rec one fic from the writer from this year!

⭐ BrightGolden ao3: brightgolden @brightgolden

Reccing: Here's Your Perfect

In the world where mates are assigned to everyone and deposited to their door when an agreeable partner is found for them, Alpha Louis has recently been given his. However, he is nothing like the type of alpha that the omega academy prepares Harry for.

Your fics are my comfort and this one is no exception. I love how the way Lou's character evolved while H is his lovely self. Atticus is the perfect pup of course :)

⭐ Marchessa ao3: Marchessa @marchessa

Reccing: Now You're Lost, Lost In The Heat Of It All

The story of a great medieval Emperor and his consort.

Your Lou is fierce and your H fights to protect his countries. The way that they are falling in love is so sweet and I scream every time H touches Lou I swear. Their dynamic never fails to amuse me! Can't wait for the second installment.

⭐ bluegreenish ao3: bluegreenish @greenblueish

Reccing: Battle Of The Balls

The one where YouTubers Harry and Louis play Golf With Friends, go to the pub with Niall and return home six hours after posting the video.

I am the biggest sucker for banter and pure fluff and laughs. This one got me real good and I am glad that you wrote it based on your own fav Youtubers. This is really a nice and funny fic, too underrated :(

⭐ thebreadvan ao3: thebreadvan @thebreadvansstuff

Reccing: High heels on, 'm feeling alive

Harry damages a car when drunkenly stumbling home after a fun night out with his friends. Feeling horribly guilty, he tries to find the owner and make it up to him.

Drunk H is the funniest and the build up is so great! Of course the smut is so on point, love it a lot. The idea is so fresh and simple too, I think that's why it's a fav of mine :)

⭐ allwaswell16 ao3: allwaswell16 @allwaswell16

Reccing: Ace of Spades

Louis is a pirate, Harry is his captive, and no one is who they say they are.

I remember reading it for the first time, thinking that I had an actual NOVEL in my hands... Later, after months, I read it again and again, there are so many things to unwrap in this fic. The details and characterization... I don't wanna spoil it to anyone but this one is worth a whole night reading. It is so wonderful! Pure talent goes into writing this and you have it!

⭐ wabadabadaba ao3: wabadabadaba @wabadabadaba

Reccing: Liquid Gold

Louis has a biting kink and the only person he thinks can fulfill it is his vampire friend, Harry.

This was HOT and funny tooooo, i love biting and marking concepts so I can definitely see how great this idea is and vampire H? Applause plz.

⭐ devilinmybrain ao3: devilinmybrain (venomedveins) @thedevilinmybrain

Reccing: i want to be just as close as the holy ghost is

Louis wants only three things in life - to pass his classes, to find a cure for hangovers after a night out with the lads, and to get church going, goodie two shoes omega Harry to go out with him.

This one is my fav so far although the Oli one is a close tie... Your omega H is so beautiful and that bondmark covering is very very cool and fresh idea. Love it.

⭐ localopa ao3: localopa @voulezloux

Reccing: i’m still standing (after all this time)

dubbed the modern elton john, harry is the biggest thing to come to pop music. topping the charts, there isn’t anyone who can dethrone him. until pop punk trio funeral for fire emerges on the scene.

The cute meet, the banter, damn Marcus, Funeral For Fire, there is a lot of angst I am not gonna lie, but of course, it is a fav and so good too!

⭐ fearsparks ao3: fearsparks @onlythebravest

Reccing: dream about a summer night

Working alongside each other as camp counsellors, Harry and Louis grow closer than they’ve ever been before. That’s not a problem, but now they have these newfound feelings for each other to deal with.

This fic reminded me of my own summer camp experiences and it was nice to picture the settings and everything. Of course, friends to lovers and the pining got me real good... Love how it played out!

⭐ Neondiamond ao3: Neondiamond @neondiamond

Reccing: On Thin Ice

As the goaltender for one of the best hockey teams in the world, Harry never expected participating in his second winter Olympics would be so eventful. His hidden long-term relationship with the captain of their biggest rival team may have something to do with it.

This fic kinda schooled me on hockey stuff and the smut is well written. It is fun to see them trying to hide :)

⭐ ohpleaselarry ao3: ohpleaselarry @ohpleaselarry

Reccing: Night Song

Whatever happens to Louis’ heart, he doesn’t care. It’s up to Harry now. It belongs to him; completely. a Howl’s Moving Castle au

Putting some twists into the original plot line is so creative, I haven't read the book yet, but the movie is a classic of course. There can never be enough Ghibli fics!

⭐ ishiplouis ao3: ishiplouis @pocketsunshineharry

Reccing: I Like You, Say It Back

the one where it takes a lot of time for Harry and Louis to figure it out. But they do, they always do, don't they?

I finished this in one sitting and I love your H in this one! Lou is always so gentle with him and H's sassiness fits him so well, love it!!

⭐ alwaysxlarrie ao3: alwaysxlarrie @alwaysxlarrie

Reccing: i swear i could give you everything

Louis Tomlinson was not a morning person, so he really should have known better than to start leaving secret notes on coworker Harry Styles' desk before he arrived at the office at 7:30 each morning. But he did have to admit that hearing Harry's reaction everyday was definitely worth it. Not being a morning person might be his downfall in this situation, though. Talk about self sabotage.

This fic made me laugh a lot especially the notes and when Lou got caught! It is a delight to read!

⭐ tommokat ao3: tommokat @tommokat

Reccing: Orange You Juice The Cutest

there's only one carton of orange juice left and two men have to decide which one of them gets it.

Cute meet my forever love, this one is more like a funny meet and Ernie was so funny too, love the witty dialogues and the bantering :)

⭐ iminthisstanshit ao3: iminthisstanshit @iminthisstanshit

Reccing: Four Souls Of The Seasons

the poetic fairytale in which they are the four souls of the seasons

Watching this fic growing and getting posted was a journey! I love how each of the boys are a season and they corresponded with their personalities. This is more poetry than fic I would say :)

⭐ huggieshalo (Candypie14) ao3: huggieshalo (Candypie14) @huggieshalo

Reccing: You Can Let it Go

An alternative story where Harry is Matilda, who never stayed with Miss Honey and had to leave with his awful family. After years of being closed off, someone shows him that his life doesn't have to stay the way it is…

Seeing H struggling in this was hard, but I am glad he finally faced his fears and confronted his family. This was a nice twist on the song and original movie of course!

Go show every fic and writer some love! Happy end of year everyone!

#fic rec #end of year writer rec #hlficlibrary #larry fic rec #i have never done a rec before #this was hard #happy 28th #😂

81 notes · View notes