#I don’t even know why I am posting this

[norrisainz33]

Party time || ln4

☆ summary: y/n throws a end of season party party and the grid find out ln and y/n have been keeping a little secret

☆ pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader x platonic!grid

☆ fc & warnings: slightly suggestive! you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: nope! this has been in my drafts for months

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynleclerc has made a post

liked by charlesleclerc, scuderiaferrari, landonorris, lilymhe, oscarpiastri, arthur_leclerc, and 765,235 others

ynleclerc: waiting for everyone to get home from this triple header so we can celebrate like …..

view all 999 comments

arthur_leclerc: i’m literally sitting next to you do i mean nothing

ynleclerc: uhh yeah you’re not alex or rebecca or carmen or lily or lily or kika or leo

arthur_leclerc: blocked

charlesleclerc: wow leo gets a mention and not me?

ynleclerc: oui

alexandrasaintmleux: leo and i miss you. we’re counting down the days 🤍

charlesleclerc: mon amour 😫 don’t encourage her

ynleclerc: f off charles! that’s my girl!

user1: the leclerc’s and their beauty needs to be studied

scuderiaferrari: you are always welcome to join us y/n 🤍

ynleclerc: merci admin 😘

user2: is the sun bothering you queen 🔫

landonorris: perhaps you should just come to abu dhabi?? ever think of that!

ynleclerc: omg no never thought of that once!!!

landonorris: y/n/n

user4: is it wrong to say i ship these 2

user3: y/n really said i’m bored pay attention to me and she’s so real for that

ynleclerc has posted to their private story

view all story replies

logansargeant: who is on this private story?? need to know who is invited before i even consider showing up

ynleclerc: just abt the whole grid, my favorite girlies, kyle, patito, and bunch of my other friends - some you know !!

logansargeant: i’ll only go if kyle goes

yourbff: i can’t wait!!!!!!

ynleclerc: me either bestie i miss you

alexandrasaintmleux: i am so excited! i got the finishing touches for my outfit today 🤭

ynleclerc: yessss i can’t wait to see it!! you’re going to look stunning 🤩

alexandrasaintmleux: so are you gorgeous girl

charlesleclerc: Puis-je te convaincre de changer de tenue ? [can i convince you to change your outfit?]

ynleclerc: absolument pas [absolutely not]

charlesleclerc: mais mes collègues vont te voir et je ne peux pas les laisser avoir des idées [but my coworkers are going to see you and i can’t have them getting any ideas]

ynleclerc: tant pis pour toi 😘 [too bad for you]

landonorris: are costumes required for this party?

ynleclerc: no but wouldn’t be a problem because you’re already a clown?

landonorris: and ya know what i hate you

ynleclerc: no you do not muppet

georgerussell63: we’re all going to need this after the season 😫

ynleclerc: no doubt georgie especially bc you were stuck in that tractor

georgerussell63: 💀

iamrebeccad: carlos asked why he’s not on the invite and i said it’s because you love me more and now he’s pouting

ynleclerc: a big big baby he is

iamrebeccad: the biggest

charlesleclerc has added to their private story

view all story replies

ynleclerc: you may as well have been!!

charlesleclerc: oh so you missed me?

ynleclerc: yes i don’t want to deal with arthur alone anymore

charlesleclerc: i knew it

carlossainz55: wow she didn’t show up to greet me like this???

charlesleclerc: you know the only reason she came to pick me up is because alex and leo were involved

landonorris: where tf was my invite

charlesleclerc: don’t think i don’t know about your little crush on my baby sister

landonorris: gonna have to have a chat w carlos huh

alexandrasaintmleux: my baby girl

charlesleclerc: yes yes you love her i know

arthur_leclerc: she’s so dramatic and for what

charlesleclerc: yes but she is our sister so we must be nice

arthur_leclerc: 🤓☝🏻

iamrebeccad: my two most favorite girls

carlossainz55 has posted to his private story

view all story replies

ynleclerc: surprised you know what a grwm is

carlossainz55: i’m not that old hermana

charlesleclerc: how are you the favorite friend ?!

carlossainz55: my charm and overall superiority

charlesleclerc: 🙄

landonorris: sooooo carlos… you told charles about my thing for y/n??????????

carlossainz55: what? no i did not!

landonorris: but you’re the only one i told!!!!

carlossainz55: … i may have told rebecca and she may have told alex who may have told charles

landonorris: mate 😭😭😭

carlossainz55: i’m sorry

landonorris: do you think charles knows the full extent?

carlossainz55: rebecca doesn’t think he does

landonorris: great so i can at least keep some of my dignity 😔

alexandrasaintmleux: eeek so cute

arthur_leclerc: you forgot to actually mention that you’re on set up duty not grwm duty

ynleclerc has posted to their story

view all story replies

user2: omg it’s annual end of year party time im so sat i hope the drivers are there and get messy

user3: bisexuality is truly a beautiful thing

alexandrasaintmleux: 😫 mon amour you are stunning

ynleclerc: i love youuuu

landonorris: i’m gonna miss you when i scroll……

ynleclerc: 🤭 good thing you get to see me in real life so no need for missing me

landonorris: so true y/n/n. see you soon 😉

yourbff: i’m foaming at the mouth

patriciooward: 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

ynleclerc: so excited to see you patty

user16: god ur perfect

user22: screw your brothers, i want you

carlossainz55 has posted to his private story

view all story replies

charlesleclerc: that little gremlin better not be with my sister

carlossainz55: 💀💀💀💀

arthur_leclerc: trying the insta story means he must have really disappeared

carlossainz55: i can’t find him anywhere in this house

yourbff: i can’t find y/n/n either

carlossainz55: charles is gonna have a fit

iamrebeccad: hehhe i think i found him

carlossainz55: oh mi amor where is he?

iamrebeccad: he is with y/n

carlossainz55: where?

iamrebeccad: you can’t get mad at him

carlossainz55: it’s not me you should be worried about

iamrebeccad: they snuck out to get pizza and go to lando’s

alexandrasaintmleux: i may have kept somethings from you and charles 😔

carlossainz55: alex what do you know

alexandrasaintmleux: y/n/n and lando have been seeing each other on the down low for a couple weeks now

carlossainz55: mi amiga 😫 you better butter up charles or his head is gonna explode when he finds this out

ynleclerc has posted to their story

view all story replies

user2: Y/N THIS IS UR PUBLIC STORY

user3: screaming y/n what is this

charlesleclerc: y/n y/m/n leclerc - this is your public story. where are you both right now?

ynleclerc: OOPS!!!!!!!!

charlesleclerc: yeah oops for sure… where are you??

charlesleclerc: ma sœur stop leaving me on read

lilymhe: ARE YOU BOYH AT THE PIZZA SHOP RN HAHAAH

ynleclerc: Y E S!! i wanted pizza and lando was kind enough to take me

lilymhe: so is this like a thing now?

ynleclerc: i think so yes 🤭

lilymhe: omg you’re an evil, sinister, orange girl now 😭

ynleclerc: SCREAMING

user4: y/n it’s 3am what are you two doing rn

carmenmundt: baby what is this

ynleclerc: 😔 i tried to simp on private but messed up

carmenmundt: obsessed but also how is this how i found out??

ynleclerc: i tried to tell you at the dior show but got scared. this is all so new

carmenmundt: no need to be scared darling!! i am very good at keeping secrets but you let this cat out of the bag it seems

user7: omg are you guys together???

user8: drunken hard launch? girl i love you so much you’re my idol

user9: raw! next question

alexandrasaintmleux: hehehe tea

ynleclerc: is charles breathing still?

alexandrasaintmleux: oh don’t worry about your big brother. he’ll be fine. tell me about LANDO

ynleclerc: he is a dream alex 😭😭😭😭

ynleclerc: we made things official 🥹

alexandrasaintmleux: YESSSSSSS LETS GO ITS ABOUT TIME

user5: y/nlando truthers are UP rn

georgerussell63: laughing hysterically at this

ynleclerc: george shut up

georgerussell63: never

user6: guess your party is going well 😂😂😂

[this post has been deleted by user]

landonorris has posted to his private story

view all story replies

carlossainz55: mate why won’t you respond to your texts

landonorris: i’m sorry im sorry got a bit caught up

carlossainz55: are you having fun?

landonorris: yes 🥹 we got pizza and she admitted she liked me a lot and wanted to make things official

carlossainz55: why didn’t you tell me you two had been hanging out for a while now???

landonorris: i didn’t want to 1) jinx it or 2) put you in an uncomfortable position with charles 😭

carlossainz55: gracias for thinking of me but i’m always here for you cabron

charlesleclerc: no funny business lando or i’ll run you off the road

landonorris: wouldn’t dream of any funny business charles

lilymhe: i hope yall remember this in the morning 💀

landonorris: actually ☝🏻 we are basically sober

oscarpiastri: you stealing the host of the party to take her to get pizza then to your house is crazy work mate

landonorris: i didn’t steal her 😭

oscarpiastri: then why she not at her own party bro

landonorris: bc she wanted pizza

oscsrpiastri: yea so you stole her

landonorris: 😔

maxfewtrell: get that girl 😤

landonorris: i did mate 🤩

danielriccardo: and who is this?

landonorris: y/n leclerc

danielriccardo: a leclerc?!

landonorris: the leclerc yes

danielriccardo: good job kid

ynleclerc has made a post

liked by charlesleclerc, carmenmundt, landonorris, maxfewtrell, alexandrasaintmleux, and 644,927 others

ynleclerc: happy new year from me and mine 🥂✨

view all 888 comments

iamrebeccad: stunning 😭

user14: don’t think we don’t recognize those curls on the last slide y/n

georgerussell63: i’m still laughing btw

ynleclerc: and what if i said i hate you

georgerussell63: i’d know you were lying 😘

user23: y/n, alex, rebecca and carmen doing everything together is so important to me you don’t understand

charlesleclerc: wow i made the cut?

ynleclerc: *leo made the cut

charlesleclerc: a brother can dream huh

user45: i love how we are swiftly moving on from that story and back to our regular programming 😭

landonorris: yours you say?

ynuser: perhaps 🫣

alexandrasaintmleux: tea

user47: how am i supposed to be normal about this

user81: don’t edge us omg

landonorris has posted a story

view all story replies

charlesleclerc: please don’t post things like this with my sister

landonorris: i have to show her off charles. she’s too pretty to not be posted 🥹

charlesleclerc: you got me there but i don’t like it mate

landonorris: i’ll treat her right - i promise

oscarpiastri: i’m so glad i don’t have to hear you cry about her anymore 🧡

landonorris: you’ll still hear me crying osc dw

user4: HARD LAUNCH CITY

ynleclerc: you’re so cute im obsessed with you

landonorris: i am the luckiest man on earth

ynleclerc: lando 😭😭

user10: you calling her a gift is sickeningly cute

alexandrasaintmleux: be good to my girl ok? leo and i both will kill you if you hurt her

landonorris: i will! i promise! she is everything i have ever wanted and more and im not going to give that up any time soon

alexandrasaintmleux: music to my ears 🤍

user87: BOTH! i want you BOTH

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[goldfades]

paige bueckers x medic reader blurb

idk why this has been on my mind but here's something to feed you guys while i recover from whatever the fuck last semester was

here’s the thing about paige bueckers: she’s annoying.

not in the throw-your-clipboard, tear-your-hair-out kind of way, but in the she’s-too-charming-for-her-own-good kind of way. the kind that makes your pulse skitter and your cheeks burn, and—worst of all—she knows it.

you’re certain she figured it out the first time she winked at you during pre-season. she’d just finished a shooting drill, her braid swinging like a metronome as she jogged over to your side of the court, flashing that grin—the one that’s equal parts mischief and sunshine.

“think i’m pushing it too hard, doc?” she asked, her hand brushing yours when you handed her a water bottle. your stuttered response? a dead giveaway.

and now, it’s practically her sport. teasing you, that is. not basketball though she’s otherworldly at that too. but here she is, six months post-acl surgery, stuck in the monotony of rehab, and somehow still making you feel like the one who’s sweating under bright gym lights.

“you’re not gonna leave me hanging, are you?” her voice cuts through your focus as you jot down notes on her progress for the day. when you glance up, she’s watching you from the training table, her injured leg stretched out in front of her, an ice pack wrapped snug around her knee. her head tilts, blonde strands falling loose from her messy bun, and there it is—that look.

“i don’t even know what you mean by that,” you mutter, knowing full well she’s waiting for you to take the bait.

she leans back on her elbows, her lips curving into a slow smile. “i’m just saying, if you don’t stay close, how am i supposed to recover? pretty sure moral support is in your job description.”

you roll your eyes, even as your heart hammers against your ribs. “pretty sure my job description is making sure you don’t blow out your knee again, bueckers.”

“so you do care about me.” her voice lilts, sing-song and undeniably smug, and god, you’re starting to regret all the years you spent chasing a degree instead of learning how to mask a blush.

you try not to sigh too loudly, scribbling something on the clipboard even though it’s just a nervous scribble now. she’s watching you like she knows—because, of course, she does. she always knows. it’s like she has a sixth sense for your embarrassment, and worse, she’s figured out exactly how to weaponize it.

“i care about all my patients,” you say, finally looking up from your notes to meet her gaze. it’s meant to come off clinical, professional, but the way her eyes sparkle makes you feel like you’ve said something embarrassingly sweet instead.

“but do you care about me more?” she asks, tilting her head, her voice dripping with fake innocence.

you deadpan her. “paige.”

“what?” she grins wider now, the kind of grin that should probably come with a warning label. “i’m just trying to gauge my ranking on the medic hierarchy. am i at least in the top five?”

“you’re lucky you even have a ranking,” you mutter, setting the clipboard down and moving closer to check her ice pack. you’re trying—really trying—not to make a big deal about how close you are to her now. but then her hand shifts, casually brushing against yours as she adjusts the pack herself.

and just like that, your resolve? gone.

“aww, come on,” she says softly, her voice lower now, almost teasingly gentle. “you can admit it. i’m your favorite.”

your lips press into a thin line as you busy yourself with checking the straps on the ice pack. “you’re impossible.”

“you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” she counters, and it’s so smooth, so shameless, that you actually pause mid-motion.

you glance at her, half tempted to say something snarky, but she’s already watching you with this expression that’s somehow both playful and too much. like she’s trying to figure you out and enjoy herself at the same time. it’s unfair, really.

“is this what you spend your time thinking about?” you ask, attempting to sound exasperated. “ways to embarrass me?”

“not just ways to embarrass you,” she says, and the mock sincerity in her tone is criminal. “also ways to make you smile. you should smile more, you know.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, refusing to give her the satisfaction, even though—damn it—you’re already fighting the urge to crack a grin. she sees it, of course. she always sees it.

“you’re insufferable,” you mumble, stepping back to grab another piece of equipment you need for her session.

“but you like me anyway,” she calls after you, her voice sing-song.

you don’t respond this time, opting instead to take an extra moment to gather your thoughts while pretending to look for something in the cabinet. when you turn back around, she’s already back to lounging on the training table, her arms folded behind her head like she’s posing for a magazine spread.

“okay, let’s get serious,” you say, trying to steer the conversation back to anything resembling professionalism. “how’s the pain today? any stiffness?”

she shrugs, but there’s a flicker of something more serious in her expression. “a little. nothing crazy.”

“you need to let me know if it gets worse,” you remind her, stepping closer to start her mobility exercises. “overdoing it isn’t going to help your recovery.”

“yes, ma’am,” she says, her tone light, but you catch the way her eyes soften when she watches you. it’s different from her usual teasing—quieter, more thoughtful—and for a moment, you’re not sure what to do with it.

you busy yourself with guiding her through the exercises, focusing on the mechanics, the angles, the movements. but it’s hard to ignore the way she keeps glancing at you, her smile smaller now but no less present.

“you’re good at this,” she says suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

you blink, looking up at her. “at what?”

“this,” she gestures vaguely, her hand moving to encompass the room, the exercises, you. “taking care of people. making them feel like they’re gonna be okay, even when they’re not sure they will be.”

her words catch you off guard, and for a second, you don’t know how to respond. it’s so… earnest. too earnest for someone who’s usually throwing out flirty one-liners and over-the-top winks.

“that’s… my job,” you manage to say, your voice quieter now.

she shakes her head, her gaze never leaving yours. “nah. it’s more than that. you’re more than that.”

and just like that, the air feels heavier, charged with something you can’t quite name. she doesn’t say anything else, just watches you with those impossibly blue eyes, like she’s waiting for you to say something back.

but all you can do is focus on the way your heart is racing, the way her words linger, soft and unshakable, in the space between you.

it was hard to forget the day it happened. the sound of it—a sickening pop that cut through the air like a gunshot—still haunted you sometimes, echoing in your mind when the gym got too quiet. you’d been courtside, clipboard in hand, watching as paige went down. she didn’t get up right away. that was how you knew it was bad.

paige bueckers wasn’t the type to stay down. she played like she was invincible, like nothing could touch her. but that day, she just lay there, clutching her knee, her face twisted in pain. it wasn’t just the physical agony that got to her, though; it was something deeper. you could see it in her eyes when she finally looked at you as you rushed to her side—this raw, unfiltered fear. like she’d just watched her whole world shatter in an instant.

“is it bad?” she’d asked, her voice barely above a whisper as you carefully assessed her knee. there was a tremble in it that you weren’t used to hearing, and it made your chest ache in a way you hadn’t expected.

“we’re gonna take care of you,” you’d said, dodging the question because you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her the truth. not yet.

she’d nodded, but her jaw was clenched, her hands trembling as they gripped the edge of the bench where you’d helped her sit. and when the scans came back, confirming what you’d already suspected, the devastation in her face nearly broke you.

the weeks that followed were some of the hardest you’d ever seen her endure. paige wasn’t herself—not the confident, fiery leader everyone knew and loved. she was quieter, angrier, and you could tell she was struggling to keep it all together. rehab was slow and painful, and there were days when she’d show up to the training room with this blank look in her eyes, like she wasn’t sure she’d ever be the same again.

but then, there were the moments when you caught a glimpse of the paige you knew. the one who refused to stay down for long. like the time she’d walked in with her crutches slung over one shoulder, grinning like she’d just won a championship. “figured i should start carrying these instead of letting them carry me,” she’d joked, and for the first time in weeks, you’d seen a flicker of that unshakable determination in her.

those moments grew more frequent as time went on. she threw herself into her recovery with a single-minded focus that was equal parts inspiring and infuriating. there were times you had to physically stop her from pushing herself too hard, reminding her that she wasn’t invincible. but she’d just roll her eyes and flash you that grin, saying something like, “gotta keep you on your toes, doc.”

and now, watching her sit on the training table, her ice pack wrapped around her knee and her confidence radiating from every pore, it was hard to reconcile this version of her with the one you’d seen at her lowest. the injury hadn’t just changed her; it had shaped her, strengthened her in ways that even she probably didn’t fully understand.

“what are you thinking about?” she asks suddenly, breaking through your thoughts. her voice is lighter now, teasing as always, but there’s a softness in her gaze that catches you off guard.

you hesitate for a moment before shrugging, a small smile tugging at your lips. “just thinking about how far you’ve come.”

she raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “yeah? and what’s the verdict?”

“the verdict,” you say, setting your clipboard down and meeting her gaze, “is that you’re still a pain in the ass.”

her laugh is loud and genuine, echoing through the room in a way that makes your chest feel a little lighter. “you love it, though,” she says, grinning like she knows a secret.

and maybe she does. because no matter how many times she teases you, or how much she flusters you, you can’t help but admire her resilience—the way she got back up when the world tried to keep her down.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[dreamerwriternstargazer]

Something I like to note in my interaction with media is always “am I taking this as education, or inspiration?”

And that’s the important difference I believe.

If your worldview was opened and inspired by AT:LA, if you (assuming you’re a very privileged, sheltered adult I guess) learnt about say revolutions and genocide and imperialism and so on and so forth for the first time from AT;LA and it inspired you to read more articles and more reliable sources of media to gain a proper perspective, grounded in reality? That’s actually pretty great

If you refuse to interact with political content beyond a child’s show, beyond the very simplified representation of censorship in Ba Sing Se, beyond Zuko’s redemption arc/efforts in recovering from abuse, beyond the wipeout of the Airbenders and their culture, then we have a problem

Stories… are fiction, but they can teach a little, not a lot, a kernel of truth, and that is enough to serve their true purpose of inspiration.

Yes there’s such incredible skill in these stories, in Suzanne Collins’ biting and fiery allegory for the Hollywood machine (and reflection of the extremely corrupt class system + political empire of the US), in Princess Mononoke’s sincere heartfelt plea for environmentalism and balance between nature and humanity

But they are not the be all and end all. Miyazaki did not write Howl’s Moving Castle to teach you to lock yourselves out of the wider political environment around you, to passively call for pacifism as bombs are dropped by those you know, nor was it written to encourage you to condemn every leader or war started. It was written to present his perspective and personal anger over the Iraq War, writing a film he “felt would be poorly received in the US” (Wikipedia) Yes the story it’s telling you of pacifism and integrity is important, but as inspiration, it will not and should not be your guide to war. What is important here is what it could lead you to read, hell if you were as enchanted and interested as I was by this movie then it could lead you right back to the context, the reason for it being written. This could then lead you to researching the Iraq war, to learning why Miyazaki felt strongly, to look at further criticisms against the Bush administration.

That’s what it did for me. I didn’t know anything about American politics, but while studying the story for some other reasons (Heroine’s Journey related of course) I noticed why pacifism was an important theme. It wasn’t enough to get me interested, American politics weren’t necessarily linked to me (or at least that’s the default I submitted to thinking) but it opened my mind a bit. Okay huh that’s interesting, keep a note on that

It’s a note that then got added to when I read several Tumblr posts on issues with the Bush administration, then others on America and its founding. It got added to further when I learnt about Israel and Palestine, and then given some emotional, moral context as I learnt of Israel and Palestine and the atrocities occurring there and how many were likening it to what America did in Iraq and Afghanistan (since I really was too young to remember or think critically over them when they were going on)

There’s still so much I don’t know, I’m so young and even younger in my political knowledge.

What’s important is that as I grow the sources of information grow with me. Stories are important for so much, they are empowering and cathartic, a way to challenge you and inspire you, they are an expression, a call to arms, a hug around your shoulders on cold rainy days, but you cannot and should not live on a diet of fairytales and fantasies.

only reading ya or only watching kids shows is tremendously destructive to your ability to create or understand fiction (as any extremely narrow fiction intake is) but also ultimately that is not a super important skill in life or indicative of any deficiency of character

[kingofbodyrolls]

Stuck in a Cave (m) | pjm

Trapped in a snowbound cave over the Christmas holidays with your long-time rival, Park Jimin, you're forced to face the simmering feelings you've both been burying beneath layers of denial. As the cold closes in, unspoken desires begin to thaw, setting your hearts ablaze in a season meant for warmth and wonder.

→ Pairing: jimin x reader (female) → AUs: christmas!au, holiday!au → Trope: enemies to lovers → Genres: fluff / smut / comedy / forced proximity → Rating: mature/explicit/R18  (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: 9k → Warnings + triggers: unprotected sex in the form of oral (female and male receiving), fingering, breast play, nipple play, dry humping, kissing, creampie, squirting, biting, slapping, multiple orgasms, a little bit exhibitionism, avalanche and being buried in the snow. → Author’s note: I KNOW, I KNOW—I totally said the last one was the last one, but surprise! Here we are again! 😂 Look, I’m not even gonna jinx it by saying this is the actual last one, because let’s be real, who knows? Maybe this hilariously chaotic couple will spark something in me again when I least expect it. But, uh… don’t place any bets on it, okay? I actually wrote this back in November (along with all my December posts—productive queen energy, am I right?). As for when I’ll write again? TBD! But in the meantime, I really, really hope you enjoy this little gem 🫶✨ → Read the spoiler? [group chat texts]  → Read on AO3? [link] 

[s.masterlist] → this is part of a mini series ‘The Winter Collection’, but it can be read as a stand alone (as can all the installments in the series).

“Tell me again why we’re trudging up these stupid mountains?” you groan, each step heavy with snow and the weight of too many unspoken things. Your boots feel like lead, sinking deeper into the cold ground, and the cabin—warm, distant, almost mythical now—is but a tiny speck on the white horizon.

“Because we can’t just hibernate in that cabin all day,” Jungkook sing-songs, absurdly gleeful, his cheeks flushed pink by the crisp air, his laugh echoing against the snow-covered pines. You try not to roll your eyes, picturing instead the warm glow of the fireplace, the flickering shadows, and your room… the one you share with Jimin. You chase away that thought, try to ignore how close he walks ahead of you, his snowsuit doing nothing to hide that damned perky ass. The world is a cruel place, you sigh. 

If only your heart hadn’t shifted. He’s still your mortal enemy—or so you keep telling yourself. But ever since that night in the cabin, when he stumbled on you tangled in sheets, with your sparkly dildo deep inside your cunt… something different stirred. The hatred’s still there, raw and defiant, but now it’s wrapped in something softer, warmer, and maddeningly confusing.

“Keep up, Y/N, or are those legs of yours already giving out?” Jimin turns, his eyes glinting, tongue poking out in that infuriating way, and a flush creeps up your cheeks. It’s his fucking fault your legs feel like jelly. Him and his insufferable grin, his teasing remarks, and… his stupid, perfect, cock. No, you’re not in love, you tell yourself.

You scoff, forcing a smirk. “Oh, is that a volunteer to carry me the rest of the way?” you toss back. “But then again, I doubt you’re strong enough,” you add, savoring the flare of irritation in his eyes. Your friends, accustomed to this fiery dance between you and Jimin, fall into a knowing silence. They know the drill—the barbs, the heat, the grudging laughter—all too well. They’ve long stopped trying to intervene, though sometimes, in rare moments, you suspect they see right through you both.

Jimin’s gaze sharpens, his smirk dropping. “Oh, we both know I could carry you,” he says, his voice low, “but since you’re such a brat about it, I won’t.”

You cross your arms, fuming like a child denied their favorite toy. “Fine!” you spit, your voice sharper than the biting wind. “I don’t want you touching me anyway!”

Jimin leans in with a wicked grin. “Not what you said last night…” he murmurs, the sing-song lilt in his voice hitting you right in the chest. You hate that he knows how to rile you up, that he says it so casually, right in front of everyone. The knowledge that they all know—their sly looks, the teasing remarks, even Seokjin’s smirk as he tossed you a pre-packed box of condoms when you arrived at the stupid cabin. Namjoon’s knowing grin, Taehyung’s shoulder-pat for Jimin, Yoongi’s dry threat to make your lives hell if you wake him up again…

Yes, they’re a chaotic bunch, your friends. And Jimin? He’s chaos itself.

Snowflakes begin to fall, delicate and silent, each one like a whispered secret from the heavens. They drift lazily at first, dancing on the wind before settling on your outstretched palm. You pull off your glove and catch one, marveling at its intricate beauty before it melts against your warm skin, leaving only a glistening trace.

“Let’s keep moving—we’re getting to the top,” Jungkook calls out, his eyes bright with the thrill of the climb. Yoongi only grunts, casting a longing glance back toward where the cabin lies hidden, nestled far below. You can almost read his mind; he’d probably be back there with you now if it weren’t for Jungkook’s threat to cut the cabin heat unless every last one of you joined him on this “bonding adventure.” What a tyrant, you think with a wry smile.

“The top?” you nearly yell, unable to believe his determination. Your legs ache, every muscle weighed down by the stiff bulk of your snowsuit. Sure, it keeps the cold at bay, but you feel like you’re dragging half the mountain with you. And to think—once you reach the summit, you’ll have to make the long descent all over again. You didn’t pack for this kind of endurance test; a few snacks, a water bottle, and a first aid kit are all that line the bottom of your backpack.

“We’ve been going since dawn! We started before the sun was even up,” you pant, each breath puffing out in frosty clouds.

Jungkook just grins, a giddy light in his eyes. “But wasn’t the sunrise worth it?” he asks, and you reluctantly admit that he’s right. The first rays of morning had painted the snow in hues of rose and gold, spilling across the horizon and seeping into the untouched drifts like watercolor on silk. It had been beautiful—almost painfully so. But not as beautiful as the warmth of the bed you’d left behind, or the person you’d woken up next to, making you question things you’d rather not dwell on.

As you trudge forward, the landscape transforms around you—trees bowed under the weight of snow, deer darting into the thicket, startled by your approach. Occasionally, you catch sight of dark caverns nestled into the mountainside, and one finally catches your eye. “Can we rest in there?” you ask, pointing.

Jungkook sighs, reluctantly nodding. “Fine, but only long enough for a snack and some water.”

You and Yoongi both exhale in relief, each of you slinging off backpacks as you duck into the small, cold shelter of the cave. Jimin strolls past, tossing a wink your way, and you can’t help but curse inwardly at how infuriatingly good he looks in that white and blue snowsuit, his blonde hair practically glowing against the muted backdrop of snow and rock. No, you tell yourself, forcing your gaze elsewhere. You will not let him get under your skin. Not today.

Inside, you settle on the rocky ground, pulling out a protein bar with trembling fingers, too cold to bother savoring the taste. Outside, the snow has thickened, the wind howling as it funnels through the cave’s mouth, whipping icy tendrils against your skin. You shiver involuntarily, glancing at the darkening sky. The storm clouds gather, swirling overhead, and the wind feels more menacing now, as if urging you back to the cabin’s warmth.

“The weather’s getting worse—don’t you think we should head back?” you ask, casting an uneasy glance at the others, but Jungkook shakes his head resolutely. You can’t fathom his determination, his relentless drive to conquer the mountain as if it’s some mythical prize that only he can claim.

Reluctantly, you pull on your goggles, shielding your eyes against the stinging snow, and follow the group out into the blizzard’s embrace. The world around you is pure white chaos, the snowflakes swirling in a furious dance, but somehow, you keep moving, each step drawing you higher into the snowstorm.

You don’t know how long you’ve been trudging forward, but when you glance back, the cabin is nowhere in sight, swallowed by snow and distance, leaving a hollow ache in your stomach. The snowfall thickens, shrouding the world in a relentless white, pulling you back to memories of the snowstorm you braved with Jimin on the way to Seokjin’s Christmas party. You shake off the thought and face the group, voice firm and brooking no argument. “I can’t see a thing. I’m done—let’s turn back.”

Yoongi sighs with relief, already turning around. “I’m with you,” he mutters, not hiding his frustration.

Jungkook, still a stubborn figure cutting through the snow, scoffs. “What, are we scared now?”

You let your words fly over the whistling wind, fury sparking in your eyes. “Call it scared if you want, but I’m not planning to be buried out here. It’s not safe.”

Namjoon checks his phone, frowning as he reads, “The weather app says a storm’s coming—and it’s not letting up for days.”

A heavy silence falls, filled only by the wailing wind and the cold sting of snow against your face. Another storm. Your heart sinks.

“Told you this was a mistake,” Yoongi grumbles.

Jungkook finally concedes, his tone subdued. “Alright. We’ll head back.” Despite his daredevil spirit, he knows there’s no pushing through this. Relief flows through you at the thought of the warm cabin, the crackling fire, and eggnog shared between friends.

As you start the descent, birds flit across the white-gray sky, a fleeting touch of beauty against the coming storm. But a strange creak rises over the howl of the wind. An uneasy chill runs through you. “Did anyone else hear that?”

“What sound?” Taehyung shouts, eyes squinting as he tries to make out shapes in the swirling snow.

The wind muffles it again, but then—another deep, ominous creak, louder this time. Everyone freezes, and in the silence, you hear it: a faint roar that steadily grows, like a beast roused from its slumber. The snow shifts, and dread settles like lead in your gut.

“Let’s hurry,” you say, voice tense, and everyone quickens their pace. You and Jimin are at the back, struggling against the thickening storm. Then it comes again, an unmistakable, thunderous rumble echoing down the mountainside. You whip around in time to see it: a churning cloud of snow cascading toward you.

“Avalanche!” you scream, panic seizing you as the world erupts into chaos. The group scatters in every direction, shouts lost in the storm, but Jimin’s hand is on yours, firm and unyielding as he drags you down the slope, weaving through trees with urgent speed. The ground trembles underfoot, and you feel the roaring snow closing in, seconds from swallowing you whole. Breath ragged, heart pounding, you realize with icy dread that this might be the end.

But just as the avalanche draws near, a dark shape looms before you—a rocky cave. Jimin pulls you inside, the world plunging into blackness just as the avalanche thunders past, shaking the walls around you. You collapse, gasping, Jimin’s hand steady against your trembling glove covered fingers. Snow clogs the cave entrance, sealing you in darkness, yet somehow his presence keeps you grounded, the steady rhythm of his breath slowing your racing pulse as silence falls once more.

“Jimin?” you whisper into the dark, your voice a soft tremor against the silence.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he replies, though his tone is taut, barely concealing the edge of panic. The tension in his voice mirrors the tightness building in your chest.

“I think… we’re stuck.” The words fall out softly, as if speaking them too loudly might somehow make them more real.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, glancing at the snow-packed entrance, his expression tense and shadowed. “Our way out’s completely blocked.” Slowly, as your eyes adjust, his face emerges from the shadows—concern etched into every line, vulnerability softening the usual spark in his eyes.

“It’s alright. The others will find us soon.” You try to sound confident, to reassure him, even as a chill of doubt creeps through you.

“Maybe,” he says, his voice carrying the barest hint of uncertainty.

A moment of heavy silence passes before you offer, “We could try digging us out. Fresh snow should be lighter, easy enough to move.”

But Jimin just sighs, moving deeper into the cave before sinking down onto the rough, cold ground. “Too tired,” he murmurs, reclining against his backpack and looking up at the darkness above.

You join him with a huff, feeling the exhaustion seep into your bones as you sit beside him. “Yeah, me too.”

He shifts slightly, making room as you slide closer, the cold penetrating even through your thick snowsuit. “Maybe we just… wait,” he suggests, his voice low and resigned, and you nod, grateful just to have him beside you.

In the quiet of the cave, you take out your phone, pull your gloves off, fingers stiff from the cold as you type a quick message to the group chat. Is everyone okay? Can anyone help us get out of this cave? You hit send, hoping the signal reaches, hoping that somehow, somewhere, they’re safe and will see your message.

Time passes, an endless stretch of waiting in the darkness. The cold presses closer, burrowing deep, and you pull your knees up, trying to conserve warmth. “It’s so cold,” you whisper, teeth chattering.

“Yeah,” Jimin murmurs, slipping an arm around your shoulders, drawing you against him. His warmth radiates through the layers of clothing, his breathing soft and steady against your cheek. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, your voice small as you settle against him, aware of his closeness—the gentle rise and fall of his chest, his steady warmth grounding you. 

A silence stretches between you, and for the first time, you notice the delicate details of his face in the dim light. His lips, full and red, look as if he’s been worrying them with his teeth, the faint hint of color a stark contrast to his now pale skin. Your gaze lingers, and your heart skips a beat as he catches you staring.

“Are you okay?” you ask quietly, breaking the silence. His eyes flicker toward you, a breath catching as he seems to consider his answer.

Finally, he exhales softly, the sound barely a sigh. “Why do you hate me?” His voice is unguarded, almost vulnerable, like he’s been carrying the question far too long.

You blink, taken aback by the rawness in his question, and the easy reply slips away. It’s not hate, not really, but how can you tell him that? How do you explain the sharp, confusing tangle of emotions you feel every time you’re near him, the way he gets under your skin in a way no one else does?

You take a slow breath, willing yourself to find the right words in the quiet space between you.

“Jimin, I—” You trail off, the words twisting on your tongue, tangled somewhere between honesty and hesitation. Searching his gaze, you feel an odd, disarming softness in your own. “I don’t hate you,” you say, the admission spilling out quietly, as if confessing to yourself as much as to him.

“But you call me your enemy,” he replies, a sudden edge of hurt threading through his voice, as though you’ve wounded him in some way you hadn’t intended.

“I…” You hesitate. “I do.”

A crease forms between his brows as he looks at you, like he’s trying to decipher a riddle hidden behind your eyes. “I just don’t get it. You say you hate me so much, but you still… you still choose to sleep with me.” He pauses, cheeks tinged with something that might be vulnerability, though his voice stays steady. “And don’t get me wrong—the sex is… incredible. But this,” he gestures between you, “it’s confusing.”

Your pulse quickens, and you nod, feeling the truth slipping closer, almost within reach. “Do you want the truth?” The words are barely a whisper, a question woven through the cool silence between you.

His gaze softens, and he nods, leaning forward. “I’d love for you to tell me the truth. Don’t hide anymore.”

The walls between you feel thin, as if the icy cave itself might crack open under the weight of your confession. With a long, trembling breath, you gather the words from the depths of your chest, feeling each one like a stone in your throat. “I hate you because… because you’re perfect. Everything seems to fall effortlessly into your hands—grades, women, money, opportunities, whatever you want, like it’s just waiting to be handed to you. You’re good-looking, too,” you add, unable to meet his eyes, “and you… act like you know it all, like you’re better than everyone. Like it’s easy to just be good, without ever showing a flaw, a struggle, anything real.”

Jimin’s face is shadowed, yet you see the surprise flicker across it as he absorbs your words.

“It’s irritating,” you continue, emboldened now, “to watch you from a distance, to see you seem so above it all. Would it hurt to be a little human?” You exhale, feeling the tension spill out with each word. “And if I’m being honest, it started long before any of this… since kindergarten, actually.”

A confused frown deepens on his face, and he tilts his head, caramel eyes searching yours in the dim light. “Kindergarten?” he repeats softly. “What did I ever do to you in kindergarten?”

A dry, self-deprecating laugh slips out as you remember the humiliation so clearly etched into your memory. “You stuffed worms in my locker, my shoes, the pockets of my jackets. Then one day, in front of everyone, you pulled my pants down and told everyone I was a boy. I was humiliated… crying… and you laughed like it was nothing.”

Jimin’s mouth parts in shock, his eyes widening as he absorbs your words. He falls silent, as though his mind is spinning back, searching for the fragments of his memory that still hold that image. 

“That was you?” His voice cracks slightly, touched by disbelief. He looks at you with something between remorse and horror.

You nod your head, a mixture of anger and sorrow swelling in your chest. “You don’t even remember?”

He winces, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck as he searches for words. “I… I’m so… I’m so sorry.” His voice is raw, laced with an almost childlike shame. He turns to you, eyes earnest and heavy with regret. “I was a kid—a stupid kid. I… never realized the weight of what I did.”

You shake your head, meeting his gaze evenly. “You’ve always been a dick, Jimin. A bully,” you add, hoping it stings just enough.

He nods slowly, his lips pulling into a remorseful line. “I know. I know I’ve been… careless. And I wish I could take all that back. I wish I could change what I was, what I… did.” He pauses, glancing down, biting his lip like he’s gathering courage. 

But then his hand reaches out, gently brushing yours in the cold. His eyes meet yours, brimming with apology. “If you’ll let me, I want to try and be… better. Real. Not perfect, just… me.”

“It was humiliating, Jimin. I was the laughing stock for years—well into school,” you say, voice softening with a hurt you’d almost forgotten. Your gaze flickers to his, hesitant, but steady. “And even now, as adults, you never stopped singling me out, teasing me. At first, I thought you were just bullying me all over again.” You hold his eyes, bracing yourself. “But that’s not what it was, was it?”

He swallows hard, his throat working as he searches for words. “No,” he replies, voice almost a whisper. “I never meant to hurt you, Y/N. Not then, not now.”

“I know that… now,” you breathe, barely above a whisper. You can feel something shifting, unspoken.

He looks down, mittens pressed against his temples, and you see him struggling, caught between words. “It’s your turn to be honest, Park,” you prompt gently, needing him to lay his truth bare, even though you think you already know. You’ve been holding onto a realization, but you want him to say it, to free you both from these years of misunderstandings.

He lets out a shaky sigh, his gaze tracing your face with a softness that catches you off guard. “I… I liked you. Even back then, I thought you were amazing—strong, fierce, and different from anyone else. I wanted so badly to get your attention, to make you notice me. But the only thing that seemed to work was… making fun of you.” He pauses, rubbing his head with a small, almost defeated smile. “I know how it sounds. I was a stupid kid. I just didn’t know any other way.”

You stare at him, breath catching, your chest tight. He liked you. Past tense. Your heart beats louder as you whisper, “And now?”

He meets your gaze, a spark of humor and something deeper lighting his expression. “To be clear, I still like you,” he says, words filled with a raw honesty. “I still think you’re fierce and strong and… stubborn as hell.” He laughs softly, glancing down as his cheeks flush. “But I’m sorry, truly. I’ve been a jerk, trying to get close to you in all the wrong ways.”

A laugh slips from your lips, warm and soft. “That you are,” you tease, hoping it stings just a little, though your voice is laced with a fondness you can’t hide.

He chuckles, a little nervously, but he inches closer. “Maybe, but…” His voice lowers. “I’m your jerk.”

And that’s all it takes. You move toward him, closing the space, and press your lips to his with a need that has simmered, unacknowledged, for so long. His mouth is soft, tender and cold at first, but as the kiss deepens, warmth spreads, igniting between you like a long-awaited spark finally catching flame. His hand rises to your cheek, his touch hesitant, reverent, as though he’s savoring each moment, each breath.

A low sound escapes him, his lips parting just enough for his tongue to trace your lips, soft but insistent. You open to him, feeling his breath, tasting him in a slow, heated dance that feels both new and achingly familiar. It’s as though every word left unsaid, every look and touch left unshared, has led to this moment—an unspoken promise unfolding between you.

For years, you’d run from this, denying the pull between you, clinging to your hate to hide the want. But in his kiss, there is a confession, a surrender to the fire you’d both fed. You feel him breathe out, his lips curving into a soft smile against yours, and you can’t help but return it. For the first time, that tension between you isn’t a battle—it’s something beautiful.

Whatever it is that’s sparked between you and Jimin these past few weeks—this whole holiday season, really—has been wild, confusing, and so, so good. He knows how to rile you up, pulling at every loose thread in you, but somehow it always leaves you wanting more. You breathe out a laugh and press a kiss to his cold cheek, feeling the scrape of winter on your lips.

“I don’t… I don’t really hate you anymore,” you whisper, breath mingling with his as it hangs in the frozen air.

He tilts his head, eyes dark and half-lidded as he gazes into yours. “Hmm?” he murmurs, his voice low, dangerous in a way that thrills you.

You feel a warmth rise through you and giggle, words spilling free. “Actually, I think I kind of like your stupid ass.” Your confession hangs between you, breaking the ice you’d held onto for too long.

He lets out a deep, satisfied chuckle, brushing his lips over yours before catching your bottom lip gently between his teeth. “So you do, do you?” he murmurs, his smirk curving just right.

He laughs, soft but filled with a rough, quiet possession. “You’re such a brat,” he teases, voice a warm rumble against your skin. “But you’re mine. Right?”

“Yes, yours,” you gasp, feeling heat spread through you, even through layers of wool and fleece. And when his gloved hand traces your cheek, the cold feels electric, meeting the fire he stirs in you.

You press closer to him, fighting against the fabric that holds you back, and your fingers drift to the zipper of your snowsuit. “I think you’re the only one who can warm me up,” you murmur, voice laced with a tempting edge as you bat your eyes up at him. You ease the zipper down slowly, watching his eyes track the movement, the hunger flickering there, even in the shadows.

He watches your movements, tongue flicking across his lips. “Do you think that’s a good idea?” he asks, voice low, but his own fingers stray to his zipper, betraying his anticipation.

“Don’t you want me?” you ask, coy, breathless. “I’m freezing,” you whisper, letting his name fall from your lips like honey. “Warm me up, Jimin.”

A shiver runs down your spine as you slip out of your snowsuit, baring your skin to the chill. You let each layer fall away, watching his gaze darken with every inch. The way he looks at you makes you feel like a fire ready to ignite, even in this icy cave.

“Do you want to touch me?” you murmur, letting your hands slide up over your skin, cupping your breasts and circling your perk nipples with your fingers. “Keep me warm?”

His breath catches, and you hear the small intake of air as his eyes roam over you. “You’ll be the death of me,” he says, words rough, barely restrained. His mittens fall away, and his hands shake slightly as he unzips his own suit, each motion slow, deliberate, eyes locked onto you as he bares himself, piece by piece.

His last layer falls away, and he stands before you, bare, his skin glowing in the dim light. He’s beautiful—always has been—but now, here, he’s something else entirely, a vision you want to savor, every single inch.

Your body feels like it’s burning, a heat that cuts through the cold and wraps around you both, a living, pulsing warmth that’s only intensified by the nearness of his skin against yours. You press closer, savoring the spark that flares between you.

Here, in the shelter of the cave, the storm howling outside, you can finally give in to him—no barriers, no misunderstandings, just you and him, bodies and hearts both raw, reaching for the warmth of each other, finally unguarded.

“Maybe you should look in a mirror sometime,” you pant, voice soft but daring as you lean closer, fingers sliding to rest on his strong, tense thighs. “Then you’d understand why everyone either hates you or wants you—you’re too damn good-looking.”

He shivers, the surprise flickering across his face, quickly replaced by a laugh. “Cold! God, your hands are freezing,” he says, teeth flashing in a grin that’s both playful and predatory.

“But my mouth is warm,” you whisper, your words laden with heat, slipping between you like a spark catching flame. “Would you like me to warm you up?”

A low groan tumbles from his lips, raw and resonant in the stillness of the cave. His eyes flash with need. “Fuck, yes… show me how much of a filthy brat you are, how good you take my cock,” he murmurs, biting his lip as he watches you, the hunger in his gaze unmistakable.

You move closer, lips parting as you take him into the warmth of your mouth, and he gasps, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. You know your hands are icy, so you hold them steady on his thighs, giving all the warmth you can to him through the softness of your lips, each deliberate, tender movement of your tongue.

“Here, hold on,” he breathes, voice catching as he leans forward, resting his hand on your shoulder. “I don’t care if your hands are cold—hold me. We’ll warm up together.”

You let your fingers dig gently into his thighs, and the intensity of his gaze on you sends a rush of warmth down your spine. With every movement, every soft sound he makes, you can feel your own heart quicken, feel his fingers thread into your hair, guiding you just the way he likes. He groans low, head falling back, eyes squeezed shut.

“Can I fuck your mouth now?” he whispers, his voice barely a breath, desire heavy in each syllable.

You squeeze his thigh in answer, and he tightens his hold, moving with a newfound rhythm, a need that’s both patient and wild. He moves against you, each movement controlled but trembling at the edges, and you let yourself melt into the moment, matching his pace, losing yourself in the heat of his touch and the unspoken need between you.

“So dirty,” he rasps, one hand sliding to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing over your skin in a soft, reverent gesture. “Your mouth is perfect.”

His praise sends a thrill through you, and you can’t help but respond, letting him feel the depth of your want in the press of your lips, the urgency in the way you take him. He gently brushes a thumb across your cheek, his hand soothing even as his breathing grows more erratic.

But then he pulls back, gaze tender yet intense as he catches his breath, looking down at you with an expression that makes you feel like the world’s slipping away outside the cave, leaving just the two of you.

“I want to cum inside your pussy, but first I want to taste it,” he murmurs, voice rough with need, his thumb lingering just below your lip. 

With the back of your hand, you wipe the dampness from your lips, whispering a single word, “Please.”

A grin curls across his lips, admiration flickering in his eyes. “My little cockslut,” he murmurs, voice low with praise.

“Lie down,” he instructs, gesturing to the soft fold of your snowsuit. You spread it on the ground, sinking onto it and parting your legs, heat radiating as you yield to him, vulnerability and desire intertwining.

He lets out a soft, appreciative sound, dropping to his knees and gazing down at you, his face close enough that you feel his breath trace delicate patterns along your skin. “So pretty and wet,” he groans, eyes dark with promise. “And I’m going to devour you. I think you deserve it, don’t you?”

A shiver skims through you as his breath fans over your skin, stirring the ache in you, anticipation pooling like molten warmth. He lowers his head, pressing soft, reverent kisses along your thighs, moving ever closer to where you need him most, his eyes locked on yours as if he’s drinking you in.

Without another word, he dives in, his mouth covering you with deliberate intensity, the warmth of his tongue drawing desperate sounds from your throat. Your hands find their way to his hair, tangling in the softness there, and you close your eyes, letting yourself surrender to each unhurried touch, each flicker of sensation he sends rippling through you.

“Fuck, Jimin,” you pant in pleasure.

The world outside the cave melts away as he moves with breathtaking skill, every graze and stroke pulling you deeper under his spell. He hums against you, his hands gripping your hips, and the vibrations send fresh waves of longing through you, toes curling as pleasure builds, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge, “That sinful tongue, Park,” you moan.

“I’m gonna come soon.”

You feel the touch of his cool fingers trace along your thighs, sending shivers through you, every nerve alight with anticipation. His fingertips graze your skin, drawing a soft quiver from deep within as his hand slides into you with reverence, coaxing you to open wider, instinctively welcoming him.

His lips and tongue explore with both gentleness and urgency, and each flicker, each lingering movement ignites a fire in your core, every cell in your body pulled taut, straining toward release. His hand moves with deliberate care, matching the rhythm of his mouth, deepening your pleasure as he senses the way your breath catches, your body arching and moving under his touch.

As his fingers press further, a delicious warmth blooms and pulses within you, and everything—your breath, your heartbeat, the world beyond—fades, leaving only the intensity of the connection between you. It builds slowly, steadily, like a wave gathering strength before it crests, your body and his locked in the timeless dance of anticipation and fulfillment.

“Jimin!” When your release finally overtakes you, it’s like being swept under by a warm current, filling you, leaving you breathless as he continues to hold you, his movements gentle, guiding you back down. He leans up, his face radiant, his gaze tender as he meets your eyes, and then he’s kissing you, his lips soft and warm, grounding you in the closeness you share.

“Jimin, please—fuck me like you did yesterday,” you whisper, your voice a sultry caress in the dim light, a soft yet desperate plea. Yet, deep down, you know there’s no need for such entreaties; he would give you the universe if you asked, for he is undeniably weak for you—a truth that has lingered in the air between you from the very beginning. 

As he crawls over you, you can feel his cock stirring, his body pressing closer, the warmth of his skin igniting a delicious ache within you. His face glistens with the evidence of your orgasm. He leans down, capturing your lips with his, the kiss deep and hungry, wrapping you in his embrace, soft and inviting. 

You savor the taste of yourself on his mouth, an intoxicating blend of sweetness and urgency that sends shivers racing down your spine. You can feel him, hard and throbbing, poised over your sensitive core, and every nerve ending ignites in anticipation. A heady mix of longing and need courses through you, the world outside fading away as you focus solely on him, yearning for the moment he finally fills you completely.

You gaze into his eyes, a storm of emotions swirling within you, wondering why it took so long to confront the truth that has simmered beneath the surface. With a rush of boldness, you bite your lip and pull him into a deep, fervent kiss, surrendering to the heat that has long been building between you.

When he finally pulls away, a teasing smile dances on his lips. “My needy little brat,” he murmurs, his voice low and sultry. “I’ll give you what you crave, don’t worry.” His hand strokes his cock, teasingly placing it against your slick folds, nudging them apart, igniting a fire of desire deep within you. You feel elated, ready for him to claim you as his own—like he can’t enter you fast enough.

Slowly, he pushes into you, a low groan escaping his lips as he fills you completely. “You’re always so fucking tight, no matter how many times I fill this perfect pussy,” he pants, anchoring himself on either side of your arms, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with lust and admiration.

You don’t respond, lost in the bliss of the stretch, the way he fills you up just as you crave. He grunts as he reaches the hilt, pausing to catch his breath before pulling back, only to thrust back into you with delicious force. 

“Fuck!” you gasp as he finds a rhythm, each thrust sending ripples of pleasure coursing through you. You revel in the sensation, your body alive with longing. 

“You really like my cock, huh, brat?” he teases, the usual playful tension replaced with a tenderness that sends warmth flooding through your chest. 

“Yes. I’m obsessed with your cock, Jimin,” you breathe, your hands roaming, gripping your thighs to change your angle, urging him deeper.

“Right there—fuck, it’s so good,” you mumble, each thrust striking your g-spot perfectly, sending sparks of ecstasy dancing behind your eyelids. 

“My brat, all mine,” he pants, driving into you deeper, harder, an intoxicating blend of pleasure and possession. 

“Hugging me so perfectly,” he breathes, his words wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

He leans down, his warmth enveloping you as his mouth finds a nipple, sucking hungrily. You moan, your fingers tangling in his hair, craving more of his touch. 

A new orgasm builds within you, heightened by the way he fills you, surrounds you with his warmth and the intoxicating scent of him—musky and primal. His tongue dances over your nipple, teasing it before moving to the other, and you feel yourself spiraling, stars flickering in your vision.

“Jimin, I’m coming again,” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper as he sneaks a hand between your bodies, circling your clit with deft precision. The tension inside you tightens, coiling like a spring ready to snap. Your body arches, pressing your breast into his warm mouth as he continues to thrust into you. 

Just as the wave crashes over you, he pulls his finger away from your clit, leaving you panting, blissfully dazed. He pops off your nipple, gazing at you with a mix of admiration and desire. “My sweet brat,” he whispers, his voice thick with longing. “So beautiful when you come.” 

You bite your lip, feeling the throb of his cock deep inside you, aware that he’s close too, and the thought ignites another wave of need within you.

“Jimin-ah,” you pant, your voice thick with desire, “fill me up with your seed,” you moan, lost in a haze of pleasure.

“I’m gonna fill you up real good,” he promises, urgency lacing his tone as he quickens his thrusts, snapping his hips against you with raw fervor. 

“Fuck. I’m gonna come too,” he grunts, each word a desperate plea as your pussy throbs around him. With a strained moan of your name, he releases, his warm essence flooding you, filling you completely. A wave of ecstasy washes over you, and you can’t help but moan in response, a sound of both satisfaction and yearning.

He stills inside you, breathless, both of you bursting into laughter at the sheer intensity of your desperation. He lays his head against your chest, feeling the rhythmic beat of your heart, the warmth radiating from your skin.

“Why did we waste so much time?” he asks, his voice soft and breathless.

“Because you’re a jerk and I’m a stubborn brat,” you reply with a teasing laugh, your fingers threading through his hair, ruffling it playfully. “But we’re here now,” you add, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, a promise of what’s to come.

For a while, he remains within you, and you don’t mind that his semen seeps out, mingling with the cold air of the cave. The chill surrounds you, but in this moment, you’re cocooned in each other’s presence, and you drift off to sleep, naked and intertwined.

When you wake, a chill has settled over you, and Jimin lies beside you, his arm wrapped protectively around your frame. But the cold bites at your skin, and you shiver, unsure of the hour or how long you’ve been ensconced in this cave.

A discomfort lingers between your legs, a reminder of the night before, and you groan at the sticky feeling. Jimin stirs beside you, his voice thick with sleep. “What time is it?” he murmurs, eyes still closed.

You reach for your backpack, fingers fumbling until you pull out your phone. A rush of surprise hits you as you see that an entire day has slipped away. “It’s morning apparently,” you say, the words echoing in the quiet cave.

“Ugh, it’s so cold,” he groans, drawing you closer, seeking warmth as you let him spoon you, his body a comforting heat against the biting chill.

“We should eat something though,” you suggest, your stomach rumbling in agreement.

“Do you have more protein bars?” he asks, voice still heavy with sleep.

“Yeah, a few. But do you have water? I’m almost out,” you reply, feeling his warm hands wander across your skin, igniting a soft sigh of pleasure from your lips.

“I do,” he answers, and with a reluctant sigh, you both rise, reaching for sustenance. You munch on protein bars and sip water, but a quick glance at your phone reveals a troubling truth—there’s no signal, and both your phones are perilously low on battery in the relentless cold.

“My stomach hurts,” you admit, a twinge of discomfort settling in.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concern knitting his brows as he studies your face, his warm gaze searching for answers.

“I have to…,” you hesitate, a flush of embarrassment creeping over you. “I have to poop.” 

He bursts out laughing, the sound echoing in the cave like a burst of sunlight breaking through clouds. You stare at him, disbelief mingling with mortification. “If you have to go, don’t hold it in; that’s not healthy, you know. Just go over in that corner,” he points to the very spot where you’d relieved yourself yesterday. God. This is so not sexy at all.

“I’m not pooping in the corner. I’ll just hold it in,” you groan, mortified.

“Suit yourself, but you never know when the others will find us,” he says matter-of-factly. “Maybe we should try digging ourselves out?” A playful grin lights up his face, and you hate that you confided in him.

“I just don’t think I can do that in front of you,” you mutter, getting up to put your clothes back on, your cheeks burning.

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, “but at this point, we’re practically married. I’ve seen you cry, be a brat, pee, and everything else in between.” 

You sulk, the fiery banter reigniting as you jut out your bottom lip and cross your arms while he gets dressed, the familiar warmth of your friendship sparking once more.

“But be my guest and keep it in,” he says, moving toward the entrance. He begins to dig with his gloved hands, but the effort seems futile. You walk over to him, helping him remove the stubborn snow, only to find it’s solid ice. 

“I think it’s frozen over from the night. Damn it,” he pants, frustration seeping into his tone. “How are we going to get out?” you ask, desperation creeping back into your voice.

“I think we just have to wait for the others to find us. We still have some food and water, so we’re fine,” he says with a nonchalant shrug, retreating to your previous spot. You follow him, sitting down beside him, feeling utterly deflated.

“Hey, try to look happy while being stuck with me,” he huffs, curling his legs up for warmth.

“Sorry,” you reply, momentarily forgetting about your stomach’s protest. “I just don’t know what we can do,” you admit, feeling the weight of uncertainty.

“Well, we could always keep each other warm again,” he suggests, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, and that’s all it takes for the fire to reignite within you. You shed your clothing, drawn into his embrace, kissing him with an urgency that banishes all thoughts of discomfort. Time stretches and bends, and you lose count of how many times you and Jimin have surrendered to each other in this cave. Both of you feel drained and cold, so you curl up together, using your snowsuit as a mattress and his as a duvet, your bodies intertwined.

“What if we’re going to die in here?” you muse, unable to find the solace of sleep.

“Relax, we won’t,” he murmurs, nudging your naked back as he wraps an arm and leg around you, the softness of his skin warming you. You feel his gentle presence against your backside, a comforting weight.

“How can you be so sure?” you ask softly, your voice barely a whisper.

“I can’t, but one of us has to be positive,” he grunts, his breath deep and steady, a lullaby that eases your fears.

You drift into sleep like that, cocooned in his warmth, surrounded by the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat against your back.

When you awaken, the warmth of Jimin’s rock-hard cock presses against your back, and you catch your breath, a jolt of electricity coursing through you. Seeking his warmth, you instinctively arch your hips back, pressing your ass further into him. He groans softly, his arm slipping over your bare breasts, fingers grazing a sensitive nipple, sending a wave of pleasure radiating through you. 

“Jimin—,” you moan, rolling your hips against him once more, and his delight-filled groan vibrates through your body, igniting a primal urge within you.

He begins to move against you, rutting against your ass, grunting in time with his thrusts. His fingers play with your nipple, teasing and pinching, and your pussy throbs in response, each pull of your breath turning quicker and deeper as arousal ignites your body like wildfire. 

Suddenly, he withdraws his hand from your nipple, positioning it at his cock, pressing it between your cheeks. “Move forward a bit,” he instructs, his voice low and sultry, and you obey, angling your body just right for him.

In an instant, he starts to thrust against you, not yet entering, but the heat of it makes you shiver with desire. His hand trails down your stomach, gliding toward your slick folds. With deft fingers, he begins to rub circles around your clitoris, and you can’t help but moan, the sensation overwhelming you.

He leans closer, his breath warm against your ear as you lie side by side. “My dirty brat wants dick again?”

“Didn’t get enough yesterday?” he teases, pressing down harder on your clit, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“I’m always hungry for you Jimin,” you pant, the naked truth spilling from your lips. You crave him, a desperate yearning that cannot be quenched, and in this moment, you can’t stay away.

“So dirty, my girl, right?” he breathes, the question lingering between you like a sweet promise.

“I’m yours, only yours,” you confess, needing him to know—because you are infuriatingly in love with him.

“And I’m yours,” he replies, kissing your shoulder tenderly, fingers working your clit with growing urgency. “Are you gonna come on my fingers?” he whispers, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

“Yes—,” you choke out, the coil of pleasure inside you tightening with rapid intensity.

His fingers dance left to right, up and down, then he pinches your sensitive nub, and you bite your bottom lip to stifle a moan. “I want to hear you,” he urges, his voice dripping with desire.

Your toes tingle, your entire body igniting in heat. “Jimin—, I’m gonna,” you pant, and then the waves crash over you as you reach your orgasm, the world around you fading into bliss thanks to his skilled fingers and that filthy mouth of his. He nibbles at your ear while rubbing you through your orgasm, his cock thrusting insistently between your cheeks.

“Fuck, you almost had me coming too. It’s so tight between your ass,” he murmurs, his voice warm and sultry as you descend from your high. Jimin’s hand wraps around your leg, hoisting it up, and he positions his cock at your entrance, your pussy fluttering in anticipation, still tingling from the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Then he slides in, grunting, “So fucking good, always.”

You moan his name in sheer delight, “Please move.”

He grunts, and with a rhythm that feels like poetry, he begins to move his hips, his cock gliding in and out of you, drawing you deeper into the exquisite sensation.

“You can go faster,” you murmur, breath catching as he holds your leg up, his fingers strong against your thigh.

A low hum escapes him as he obliges, thrusting harder, each movement reverberating through you. “So wet for me,” he pants, his hand squeezing your thigh as he picks up speed, sending waves of pleasure radiating outward.

When he starts hitting that perfect spot, stars blur your vision, your body arching instinctively into him. You’re spent from all of yesterday, your muscles deliciously sore, yet here you are again, craving more. 

His breath is hot against your ear, voice a low rasp. “My filthy girl. Always wet for me, always begging for my cock,” he murmurs, and you feel yourself clench around him in response, his words driving you wild, pushing you further toward the edge.

You pant as he thrusts deeper, each motion a sweet agony, his hips snapping against yours, the rhythmic sound of skin meeting skin filling the cave, a symphony just for you. “Little tease,” he breathes, “playing hard to get just to end up like this,” he says, almost growling the words against your neck, his tone both scolding and adoring, and it sends delicious shivers down your spine.

“Holy… Shit,” you moan, his relentless rhythm pushing you higher, his hands and cock guiding you past the breaking point. Your body tenses, waves of pleasure crashing over you as you come, and he doesn’t miss a beat. His hand finds your clit, rubbing it gently as you shake beneath him, his fingers slipping over your slickness before he brings them to his lips. “You squirted,” he grins, pride gleaming in his eyes as he tastes you, his gaze dark and devouring. “And you fucking taste incredible.”

His praise makes you clench around him, and he groans, driving into you, refusing to let up even as you try to catch your breath. “Fuck, Jimin,” you gasp, legs trembling with exertion.

“I’ve got you,” he assures, gently lowering your leg. Before you know it, he’s helping you to all fours, your head nestled against the softness of your snowsuit, and he lifts your hips, fingers firm at your waist. “Just a little more. I know you’re tired,” he whispers, his voice gentle but laced with desire. Settling onto his knees, he guides himself back into you, a deep moan slipping from your lips as he fills you to the hilt.

Gripping your hips, he pulls you back with each thrust, his rhythm quick, and every plunge feels deeper, more consuming. “So fucking tight,” he grunts, leaning down to nip at your shoulder as his hand smacks your ass, leaving a warm sting that only heightens the intensity.

He grips you tighter, fingers digging into your skin as he picks up the pace, and you feel yourself spiraling again, a third orgasm cresting before you’ve even come down from the second. Your body clenches around him, and it undoes him completely, a shudder ripping through him as he thrusts one last time, filling you as he groans in surrender, his release warm and full.

Breathless, he leans over you, his hand tracing gentle circles over your back. “Incredible,” he murmurs, caressing you in the afterglow, his praise softening the edges of exhaustion as you rest in his arms, completely spent but undeniably fulfilled.

Breathless and laughing, the two of you cling to each other as a noise echoes from the cave entrance. Suddenly, a chunk of snow tumbles inward, letting a burst of light cut through the dimness. Shielding your eyes from the sudden brightness, you spot Jungkook peering in through a widening gap. “Found them!” he calls out, then cringes, squinting. “Oh God—naked,” he grunts, feigning disgust as you scramble to pull your snowsuits over your bare skin, huddling together in hurried, flustered movements.

More snow is chipped away, allowing the full daylight to flood in, and soon the entrance is free. There, framed against the blinding white snow, stand all your friends, gawking with expressions ranging from surprise to outright amusement. You feel your cheeks ignite as they take in the scene—clearly, there’s no hiding what went on in the cave.

“We thought you were going to kill each other,” Taehyung quips, his eyes wide with mock horror as he takes in the scene.

Yoongi shakes his head, unfazed. “Told you they’d end up like this,” he mutters, already turning away to put his shovel back over his shoulder.

Seokjin groans theatrically, pressing a hand to his forehead. “For the love of all things holy, put some clothes on!”

Flushed and flustered, you stammer, “Could you maybe look away? A little privacy?” Jimin only chuckles at your side, entirely unbothered.

“Fine, fine,” Jungkook says, still grinning as they turn around, murmuring to each other, muffling laughter that echoes in the frosty air. You and Jimin hastily pull on your clothes, cocooning yourselves back into thick layers, but you feel oddly reluctant to step out of this little haven that the two of you created.

Just before heading out, you turn to him, and with a hand still bare, you reach up, cupping his cheek. “I meant everything I said, Jimin,” you murmur softly, your thumb brushing over his skin. 

He leans into your touch, eyes meeting yours with a warmth that seems to banish the cold. “Me too,” he whispers, and a beat passes, his gaze dropping to your lips before he finally asks, “Would you… do you want to make it official? Date me?” He’s almost shy, his heart racing, caught somewhere between hope and vulnerability, as if this simple question holds so much more.

The light in the cave catches the shimmer in your eyes as you tiptoe up to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. “Yes, I want to date you, Park,” you whisper against his mouth, warmth radiating between you.

A smile breaks over his face, and soon it twists into that familiar, mischievous smirk. “Knew you couldn’t resist me,” he teases, already slipping back into the confident Jimin you know so well.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile as you grab his hand, fingers lacing together naturally. And as you step out into the bright snow, your friends’ teasing laughter ringing through the air, you realize you’re ready to endure anything, as long as you’ve got Jimin by your side.

“Have you checked your phone lately?” Jungkook asks, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as if he’s holding back a secret, a playful glimmer dancing in his eyes.

“No, why?” you reply, the curiosity rising in your voice. “It ran out of battery—Jimin’s too.”

The others nod in silent understanding, but when you finally make your way back to the cabin, plug your phone into the charger, and open the group chat, your heart sinks. The screen floods with a storm of messages, a chaotic wave of words and emojis that makes your stomach twist and your cheeks burn. With wide eyes, you instinctively flip the phone over, as if doing so might somehow erase the flood of embarrassing texts, as if they might vanish with a simple turn of the screen.

→ Permanent taglist: @nora12379 @jeonsbabygirlsworld @fancypeacepersona @ktownshizzle @pjmxxjm @ajoonniice @kookiewithluv

→ Series taglist: @yopjm @chimmy-licious @aubrey0moore @jeonsbabygirlsworld @haru-jiminn @13-manggaetteok @mima795 @nora12379 @joonsmagicshop @goldietigers294 @pjmxxjm @jimineepaboya 

→ Author’s endnote: HAHAHAHA 😂 How is it even possible for this couple to get more chaotic? Truly, their energy is unmatched. Did you have fun finally uncovering why they’ve been throwing daggers at each other this whole time? What do you think—was it worth the wait? Honestly, writing this unapologetically jerk version of Jimin has been an absolute blast for me 🤭 Like, it’s almost too fun to lean into his sass and pettiness! (Should I be concerned?) Can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

© @/kingofbodyrolls 2024 // Please don’t copy or repost! You are more than welcome to reblog it, leave a comment or ask me anything about the story ��

[cooloddball]

The Lestappen tag is drier than the dessert atm and I need something to bring me joy. Could you give me top 5 Lestappen moments of the 2024 season?

off the top of my head the top 5 lestappen moments of 2024 are:

monaco gp hug: charles winning his home race (he’s not only the prince of monaco but also the breaker of curses that’s my future wdc right there) and to make it even better their hug (the first ever recorded proper lestappen hug) the whole moment speaks for itself. the way both of charles’ hands were around max’s waist and his chin laying on max’s shoulder and the smile on max’s face the way they were both grinning like teenagers in love after the hug 🥰

max’s abu dhabi wdc party: what in the gay heaven was that? the whispering to each other over the vip balcony fence after charles left his mom and his bff pierre in another party to come be with max because of course why not? the kissy face max was making at charles (we don’t know who it was for but let me be delulu in peace, thank you) did max take him home too?

the fia gala in Kigali: the back and forth gay session with carrier pegion oscar (“charlie come sit next to me.” “ no. you come sit next to me.” “oscar, please tell your father i need him to come sit next to me.” * confused oscar who just wants to listen to the boring presenters an be left alone conveys the ridiculous message, twice* “oscar, tell him i said i am not leaving my seat he can come sit next to me too”) the most hilarious thing is does lando know that his alleged paddock bestie wanted him as far away as possible so he (alleged paddock bestie) could sit next to his husband charles. btw didn’t charles keep saying he was second in the championship? was it his ploy to sit next to max or? i need answers. not to mention the way the camera keep panning to the other when one of them was on stage 👀

miami gp: (just everything about it. the podium, them riding in the same car because why not when they literally each had their own, charles posting max of main!!!!!

brazilian gp: hello????? charles being there for max the whole weekend and him never leaving max’s side at the drivers parade) with pierre third wheeling them then max winning the race 😘

[captainthief]

I want to start this by saying that I am so, so sorry that OP had experiences that made them feel so let down by the adults in their life, and that CPS is absolutely a flawed and corrupt system.

However, I’m strongly bothered by the parts of this post that imply teachers report to CPS because of *liability*. That they don’t feel responsible for the children in their care and don’t want to actually help. The truth is that mandated reporting is an EXTREMELY important part of a teachers job. The truth is that we are absolutely NOT equipped to be the sole adult who can help in a bad situation. We don’t receive training in mental health or trauma. We have no ability to investigate children’s home life outside of what they tell us. We have no way to confront an abusive adult without the possibility of the child facing the consequences.

Knowing something is going on with a kid is *terrifying*, because you want to help but don’t know how or if you might make things worse. The only things you can do are be there for the kid as best as you can, try to create a safe space for them, and report to CPS. Is there an element of liability involved? Yes, of course. Because if you know a child is being abused and do nothing you are complicit. More often you see situations where it is *reporting* which can be a threat to your job, when administration asks you to keep quiet or says there isn’t enough evidence. But that’s exactly why it’s so important that mandated reporters are protected by law—so no one can be intimidated into ignoring abuse.

There’s this perception like teachers are experienced, put together adults who know exactly what is going on and have sway over the other adults in a child’s life. This is largely untrue. We are a profession largely made up of young people, trying to learn on our feet to take care of a large amount of children, under countless pressures from many directions telling us what the “right” actions to take are. We *are not equipped to save a child*. There is only so much we can do in a teaching position and there is *so much* that can go wrong. If we confront the abuser, they can retaliate on the child. If we go to administration, they may ignore it. If we go to the police, they may say there is not enough evidence and in the process alert the abuser that people are noticing which leads back to retaliation. If we offer a safe space, maybe we can provide temporary relief but nothing will really change. CPS is heavily, heavily flawed, but it is often the best option a teacher has to actually alert someone who knows how to approach abuse and *has the ability to separate the child from the abuser*.

And no, it’s not like we wash our hands of a situation just because we’ve sent it to CPS. That’s what we’re told often—“it’s out of your hands now”. But we know that’s not the end. We offer what we can to the child. We document as much as we can as quietly as we can so there is evidence to prove something is wrong. We often don’t know *what* is wrong, maybe even if something is actually wrong or it’s just a coincidence that a child comes in with bruises in the same spot every other week. We have no way to know and directly asking a child or adult can endanger the child. So we observe, and we try to discreetly find out details, and if it seems like there is any chance something is wrong, we report to someone who can actually take steps to investigate home life. Real life is not like Matilda, where a teacher can just show up at a child’s home. A teacher getting arrested for invasion of privacy or stalking or whatever because they suspected foul play doesn’t help that child, or the 20 others in their class who might also be in bad situations.

I’ve watched a teacher break down because a court ruled a 3year old child had to leave their lovely foster family and return to custody of their abusive birth mother, who then pulled the child out of the school so the teachers who knew the situation couldn’t be alert for further issues. I’ve seen a teacher who self identified as “not cuddly or comforting” take diligent notes about anything concerning said by a child who was so wild many other teachers found it difficult to build a trusting relationship with him, because she knew there must be a reason behind his behavior and outbursts. I’ve had to take a break from a classroom to cry in frustration when I told an administrator that a child had mentioned to me being spanked by his mother and the admin pulled me aside and showed me the documentation of a previous CPS report where they concluded nothing could be done because it wasn’t illegal in our state, and that all we could do was document anything concerning and be there for him. I watched my mentor put herself body and soul to try and have meetings with a child’s family about how they could support him in ways a classroom couldn’t only for them to pull him out of school saying that our school was at fault for his difficulties and how she forever after carried the feeling that she failed a kid she desperately wanted to help. I’ve heard over and over again how many of us—myself included—were attracted to the field specifically because we were once the child who needed a trusted adult in their life and how our main motivation is to be that person to the best of our ability, but the reality is that pure effort is not enough.

And yeah, sometimes liability is a big factor. Sometimes keeping your job is a huge factor. But it’s not like it’s just because we care more about our abysmal paycheck. I’ve had plenty of kids I would willingly sacrifice my job and even my whole life to help. But when you’ve built a relationship with a kid, when you’re their safe space and whatever risk you could take has no guarantee to help their situation, the last thing you want is to get fired, because then that kid has nothing. Sometimes you have the choice between act aggressively and end up having that kid feel abandoned, or follow the conservative path and hopefully be able to be a consistency in their life for as long as possible. And that’s not even considering that we are responsible for dozens of kids who may all have complicated or harrowing situations. If we lose our position in the hopes of doing something drastic, maybe we buy that kid a bit of time but ultimately the one who benefits is the abuser. We can’t help anyone if we’re not in the picture. There are absolutely times I’ve stayed in a situation that was personally unhealthy for myself because I knew a kid needed me and I’d rather be mauled by a bear than leave a kid who’s relying on me to be their safe person.

We NEED better systems to help kids in need. Better resources, more understanding, more options, all of it. But blaming the teachers doesn’t do anything, because we try our best with what we have and do as much as we can behind the scenes—the kids will never know half of the things we try to do for them, because it’s more likely to keep them safe if they don’t know. As things are right now, that usually means mandated reporting and it’s one of the few things that has a freaking stones throw of a chance of helping. Go after CPS and corporal punishment laws and the foster system and education reform all you want, hell, I am *begging* that you do that because it is so, so important. But don’t blame the teachers, because for every apathetic old crone there are a dozen others who care desperately and wish with all of our hearts for a better way to be there for the kids that need it.

Maybe its just me but I think its really fucked up that the only way teachers can "help" a child is with cps and the fucking police. I think its really fucked up that they're constantly talking about "tell a trusted adult" when sometimes you just don't fucking have one. Because all of them were bad options. I think its fucked up that my, and many many many children's only fucking options have been tell someone and put everything in danger or do nothing and continue on in silence. I think its fucked up that even without saying it I had to start understanding that no matter how kinda a teacher, or counselor, or school staff member was to me at times, that they would never put me over them being held liable or their job. I would never be that important. They get to pat themselves on the back while I get put in handcuffs and put treated like an example of what not to do as if im not even there. I think its really fucked up that at a certain point it will never matter how nice a teacher is, no matter how many "I know it sucks...." or "I'm sorry but it's my job..."s or "I don't want to have to do this..."s you get, because its always the same fucking thing. Your a liability, and no adult is going to risk their job with a child that they could easily just hand to someone else more 'qualified' to handle.

[russellbby]

There's always pressure😣 || Pt.2

parings: charles leclerc x sister!f2 driver!reader, arthur leclerc x sister!f2 driver!reader

in which: the pressure of being the youngest Leclerc siblings keeps increasing..

requested: yes, by @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3

Part 1 Part 3 (coming soon)

twitter

//

Y/n sighed as she looked over Twitter, she knew that it would reach her mother who had been looking for her, it didn’t take long as her phone pinned again.

Maman❤️

You sneaked into the Mercedes garage?

This is disrespectful from you Y/n.

I mean it this time, get back to Ferrari now.

read

“You should probably go back, sweetheart. You don’t want to upset your mother anymore” Susie told her softly.

“Well, the damage has already been done so..” Y/n mumbled as she stood up.

“Keep off twitter kiddo, nothing nice comes from it and I know you too well to know you have been reading stuff” Lewis added.

“Know me too well Lew, anyways see you guys soon” Y/n said before leaving the Mercedes hospitality.

Toto, Susie and Lewis watched Y/n making her way towards Ferrari, trying to avoid cameras and reporters who wanted to know why she wasn’t with her family in Ferrari.

“She would be a perfect replacement for you” Toto said looking at Lewis, who only smiled.

//

“Y/n!” Pascale called as she seen her enter the Ferrari hospitality. “Hey maman,” Y/n mumbled before sitting down trying to avoid the glares from her and her brothers.

“Ferrari not good enough for you, sœur?” Arthur asked.

“I did watch you both,” Y/n replied.

“But you weren’t there when we got out the car, instead you were too busy talking to Lewis in Mercedes” Charles added.

“C’mon Y/n, we wanted the whole family together and you ruined it on not being there” Lorenzo told her.

Y/n made eye contact with Charlotte, Alex and Jade who gave her faint smiles before she looked down and started to fiddle with her fingers.

“If you were apart of Ferrari, maybe you could have had a chance like Arthur today” Pascale told her which made Y/n look up at her.

“I’m with Mercedes and I ain’t changing my mind, it’s my career you can’t control that” Y/n snapped, making her brothers look at her with widen eyes.

“Hey, don’t talk like that with maman!” Charles warned.

“But she isn’t wrong, Mercedes chose Kimi over you today and most likely for their second seat next year too” Arthur told her, which made Y/n feel her heart drop hearing her own brother say stuff like that.

“Arthur, too far.” Lorenzo replied.

“What? I’m not wrong, am I? She should of won the F2 championship weeks ago but it’s gone down to the final race and she might not even win it” Arthur added.

“F*ck off Arthur,” Y/n snapped.

“Y/n, don’t spea—

“No maman! I’ve had enough of you all! Do any of you know how badly I’ve felt today? No, because all you have cared about is the history Charles and Arthur has achieved today! You all have pushed me aside and didn’t even realise I wasn’t even in the garage until someone posted it on Twitter! All I have dealt with today is being compared to Charles and Arthur, how I should be on the same level as them as I’m a ‘Leclerc’, do any of you know how much pressure I have on my back?

People saying why I haven’t joined Ferrari as it runs in the family, I choose Mercedes to be different and to try create my own name in the sport, I’m sorry it’s offended you so much Arthur. Also, sorry I haven’t won the F2 championship already but why even comment about that Arthur as you haven’t even won it and got dropped!

Now, I’m leaving so please leave me alone and just think about I’m apart of this family too, even that may be surprising for some of you!”

The Leclerc family instantly feeling guilty when they watched the youngest leaving the hospitality with tears running down her face.

//

“Breathe kiddo,” Carlos said softly as he had his arms around the young girl and was in an excluded area of the paddock.

“I can’t do this anymore, Carlos” Y/n cried as she wiped her tears.

“Hey! None of that talk, you can’t give up now, you have already achieved so much” Lewis said as she joined the pair.

“But what’s the point anymore?” Y/n mumbled.

“Being named a F2 champion, is a good point to keep going” Lando said as he appeared out of nowhere.

“Listen to the muppet, but seriously you can’t give up now Y/n and I’m proud of the way you stood up towards your family” Carlos told her.

“C’mon, let’s take you back to Mercedes while Carlos and Lando can talk to your brothers” Lewis said giving a look over to the two other drivers who nodded.

While Lewis and Y/n made their back to Ferrari, Carlos told Lando what he heard the Leclerc family saying to Y/n. Soon enough they found Charles and Arthur.

//

“What is wrong with you both, seriously! She’s your little sister and you say that stuff to her? Your family are the only people who haven’t realised just how much she’s been struggling and says it all!” Carlos exclaimed as the kept quiet.

“Not saying anything says it all,I wasn’t even there but what Carlos had filled me in with, it tells me that you guys just took it too far” Lando added.

“We’re sorry alright? We all feel guilty, I didn’t think she was feeling this bad” Charles said.

“I was just angry that she wasn’t there when I got out the car today, it would of been amazing to celebrate that moment with her she knows how much it meant to me” Arthur mumbled.

“She is proud of you both, her face lit up when she seen you both on the track together. However, it’s gets too much for her sometimes as she knew from that moment the increasing pressure she would have on her to preform this weekend” Carlos told them.

“Just leave her alone for a bit, she’s going to be with in Mercedes. But you both and whole family need to talk to her before she races this weekend” Lewis said as she approached the four of them.

“We will,” both Leclerc brothers replied.

//

Part 3 is in the making! :)

[maxybabyy]

an unfortunate habit of sleeping with the elves is absolutely sending me im giggling so bad

happy holidays to you and yours, anon 😘

Inspired by the tags on this post.

Maxiel: Dirtbag Daniel, twinky Max, mature, 957 words

“It’s just two of you this year, but I take it that’s fine with you,” Seb says and shoves the suit into Daniel’s arms. Red and sweaty with an under-note of alcohol that probably shouldn’t be around kids. “Try not to fuck the elf, will you? Or at least don’t do it on company fucking property.” 

Daniel tuts, “Learned from the best, mate.” 

Seb shoots him a glare like the two of them didn’t make Christmas come early for Mrs. Claus three years ago. 

“Just, please,” Seb stresses, and Daniel thinks maybe the promotion was a mistake after all. There’s too much tension in his shoulders now, wrinkles where they shouldn’t be. And there’s no fucking way Lewis will look at him twice if he loses more hair. “Anyway, it’s a guy this time, so maybe that will stop you.” 

Daniel hasn’t really dabbled much with guys outside the occasional handjob when a threesome had gone wrong, so it does put a damper on his plan but Seb doesn’t have to know that. He could have changed in the past years, sucked a cock or fucked that twink who always blushes when he comes by to unclog his mother’s drain. Probably wouldn’t go over well with the mister, fucking both his son and his wife. But like, Daniel could have done it. 

“And happy fucking holidays to you too, Sebastian,” Daniel tells him and pushes open the door to the changing room. “See you on new years.” 

There’s the whoosh of the door closing behind him and then - 

“Oh, hello,” someone says, halfway down the bench. “I am Max. I will of course be your elf.” 

Daniel doesn’t move, stays rooted in his spot by the door as he watches Max stare up at him with a wide smile. 

He’s young, way too fucking young, and that’s not usually a problem for Daniel, but this is just fucking indecent. 

His face is all sharp angles, the recent loss of baby fat obvious, and the fatness of his lips makes him look obscene, tongue poking out to leave behind a sheen of spit. 

It probably does nothing for how fucked up his lips are, cracked from the wind and cold weather, and Daniel has half a mind to throw him the menthol lip balm Michelle makes him carry around. Instead what he wants is to run his tongue over his lip, suck it into his mouth until whatever energy drink he probably gargled down before coming here is soaked into his taste buds. 

Max is still bent over the bench, one foot shoved into the same sheer tights of green and red that Daniel has diligently peeled of the other elves before he fucked them. The same thigh-length dress has been thrown to the floor with no considerations for Max’s obvious dick-situation, which - 

“No underwear mate?” Daniel blurts out. 

He has a side view of Max, but it’s so fucking obvious how cheeked-up he is from the lack of boxers. The pale skin of his thighs and ass is dusted with fine, blonde hair, and Daniel is almost sure the carpet matches too. 

Which, you know, still begs the question of why the cradle-robbee is fucking naked in a mall locker room. 

“What?” The kid says and straightens up, both feet dropping to the ground. He looks ridiculous like that, Donald Duck-ing it in his Stanford varsity soccer shirt and nothing else. “Oh, you think -“ 

Daniel drops down to sit on the bench, hands held up placatingly, “Hey man, you do you, yeah? Just, we’re gonna be around kids, so.” 

He’s not the one catching a case if his ass falls over. Seb’s gonna be livid, but that’s not - 

Max hikes his shirt, bunched up under the swell of his pecs to show off a distressingly small waist, moles scattered across pale skin. His stomach is flat, trim muscles with just the tiniest curve to his hips, and even if it hadn’t been for the shirt, the yellowed knees are clear signs of his time on the field. 

But that’s not - 

There’s a band around his waist, just the tiniest slip of cloth over his dick, and Daniel almost thinks he’s wearing a thong, but matching pieces of elastic frame the swell of his ass on either side.

It reminds Daniel of high school varsity sports, of communal showers and coming down the drain when everyone but Scotty and him had left. 

Because the kid is wearing a fucking jock strap, and Daniel doesn’t think his mouth has ever been this dry. 

“With the tights, I thought of course it would be better like this,” Max says and turns around, shows off his ass and how his shirt falls over it. “Always you cannot see the lines like this.” 

He pulls the fabric tight over his ass, and like, the kid is right, but like, Daniel is so clearly not looking for the seams of his fucking underwear like this. His hands twitch in his lap to keep himself from reaching out, touching the swell of his ass. 

Daniel thinks, maybe if he curves his palm just right, he could probably hold a cheek in each hand. Fingers spread wide so his thumbs would fall just on the insides of his thighs, barely a slip away from being inside Max. 

“Cool,” Daniel says hoarsely. 

His knees creak when he stands up but he’s too busy staring at the kid staring back at him to care. So obviously looking for something else, something more, that Daniel doesn’t know what he is supposed to do but reach out and slap his ass. 

Max’s breath hitches, the skin of his ass turns scarlet, and Daniel burns with it. 

“Well done, kid.” 

[sondheim-girly]

ok im gonna get my yap on, because Brody Grant has so much power in this fandom and I need to talk about why. Am I overthinking this? Yes. Is everything I’m about to say super obvious? Also yes. But who cares.

Ok so some might say “oh the fandom just likes him cuz he’s hot” and the thing is, yes hes hot, but so is the entire cast? And I can’t think of anyone else in the cast who can break the fandom with one single appearance. I think the key of it is the fact that hes unpredictable and always leaves us wanting more. See, back before the Tonys he was doing a lot of press, both for opening and as a nominee. And then post Tonys, you had a three month drought where we practically didn’t get any content of him. However we were still riding high from the pre Tonys interviews, so the obsession continued to stay strong. And theres an element of someone not having their entire life and personality on public display that makes them so much more exciting. And then he disappears for an entire month, then comes back blonde and posts a bunch of photos from his trip in Tokyo. He then goes on to start appearing in the occasional Soc Saturday after not appearing in one for literally months, then is in sky’s Instagram, and starts posting on Instagram more!! So hes giving us just barely enough content to keep us sustained, but also leaving us wanting to much more. Theres also a level of mystery that’s just super exciting cuz you literally never know what he’s gonna do. Is he gonna disappear for a month and go blonde? Is he gonna show up on Soc Saturday and yell about a guy named Mike? Who knows. Not to mention how… mysterious the post he just made was? Like who even knows why he posted that?? No clue, but it’s wonderful.

now of course this is how he has maintained this strange hold on the fandom, but how did he get it in the first place? Of course hes good looking, but hes also absurdly talented, and a very charming person. He’s interesting because he has this kinda edgy ‘persona’ tho idk if that’s exactly the right way to describe it, but then you watch an interview with him and hes this super duper genuine, thoughtful, interesting guy! And then u see a clip of him with the cast and hes just really silly and funny. And so he has all these sides to him which is very intriguing. And he just has this like- really sweet smile and also I think the ear cuff and fingerless glove combo is something that definitely had a major effect on the fans. Ok ive kinda lost the plot.

also theres something about him having social media and rarely using it. Because then it’s like oh we could get content but you never know when- there are a lot of cast members who are super active on social media so we get used to it, or actors who don’t have it at all, meanwhile Brody can just get on there, say something, explode the fandom, then leave. Hes also very intentional about what posts he leaves up, which we can tell from his occasional cleansing of his account. Idk what my point is here but I wanted to say something about this

anyways this is my yap. It’s unedited and completely chaotic but I hope y’all enjoyed it.

[polaroidpascal]

i saw frankie kissing santa claus || joel & frankie

AO3 || MASTERLIST

pairing : joel x f!reader x frankie morales

summary : after everyone leaves your house for a holiday party, you find one straggler left behind -or- you catch frankie kissing santa claus joel

tags : M-18+, no use of y/n, everyone in this fic is bi bc i am too and i said so, joel in a santa suit, reader and joel have a little (big) crush on frankie boy, handjob, blowjob(s), face sitting, multiple orgasms for reader, orgasm denial, lots and lots of leaking (from all of them. im sorry.), one in the mouth one down south, sizes mentioned, cum eating, creampie, aftercare bc its essential and they are softies!!!

WC : 6k

a/n : merry christmas to everyone who celebrates!! six months since ive written anything at all and now i'm back with a christmas special LMFAO 😭 honestly, life has been a hectic hell since i last posted and i'm really happy i was able to actually finish something i started to end out the year 🥹 i hope everyone has a wonderful holiday season, and i hope i won't be as much of a stranger as i have been lately!! hope you enjoy this!! <3

“Oh, come on, Joel! People are gonna love it!”

“I am not putting it on, end of discussion, “ he said. You huffed a sigh and plopped down on the couch, Santa hat and suit in hand draping over your legs. 

For as long as you had been seeing Joel, you’d begged and begged for him to let you plan one of his company holiday parties only for him to tell you that he’d rather just treat the guys to a night at a nice bar. He’d always let you come along, of course, feeding you whatever fruity little cocktails you asked for to pass the night along.

Last year was… something else. That summer, the company was absolutely swamped with projects, meaning Tommy and Joel had to hire some more help to keep up. One of the new hires, Francisco, “Frankie” for short, outshone all of his peers. He was effortlessly helpful in ways Tommy and Joel hadn’t even intended him to be. Just in the 6 months he had been with the company, he had already (rightfully) climbed a little higher up the ladder to help with the more important decisions rather than just being an extra set of hands on site.

Every now and then, Joel would tell you something else about Frankie that made your heart flutter with gratitude that the extra help was finally letting off some stress that he always seemed to carry. When August had rolled around, the Texas heat reached an all-time high. One particularly hot day, you suggested that Joel invite Frankie over to swim and barbecue so you could finally meet him.

He was a big man, just like Joel. Sturdy frame and tanned skin, and the sweetest manners a man could have, greeting you with a gentle handshake and a kindly playful, “It’s nice to meet you, Joel’s always talking about you.”

You spent the day in the sun and shade, sipping drinks and dipping into the cold water to stave off some of the brutal heat. The backyard filled with laughter all afternoon until the sun had finally set, the last hoorah of golden rays draining from the sky.

“So—“ Joel grunted, settling in bed with you as you curled into his side, “what’d you think of Frankie?”

“He’s great,” you hummed with a smile, settling into Joel’s post-shower warmth. “I can see why you like him so much, he seems exactly like how you always talked about him.”

“Yeah, he’s… he’s somethin’. Ain’t like the other guys. Don’t have to tell him more ‘an once to do somethin’…”

You look up and see Joel staring into space, a glimmer of something else in his eye as he zones out.

A smirk slides into your cheek. “Mhm… kinda pretty too,” you tease.

“Huh?”

“He’s kinda… pretty. I don’t know.”

A ghost of a blush threatens to bloom across Joel’s chest as he shifts a bit underneath you. “Think he’s pretty, huh?”

“Well, yeah. Anyone with eyes can see that,” you giggle, propping up on one arm to fully face him. “Do you think he’s pretty?”

Joel stops, that once threatening blush beginning to spread a little more, a little darker. “Wh—?”

“Do you think Frankie is pretty?”

“Is this some sort of test or somethin’?”

“No, not a test. I just… you do realize you’ve been talking about him for months?”

“Well, he’s done real good for the company. Jus’ happy not to be so stressed all th’ time. You sure have been enjoying it.”

You chuckle and shake your head. “Well, yes. But that’s not my point. Been talking about him for months and he had you laughing all afternoon today.”

“That ain’t fair, he had you laughing too. Matter of fact, them little shrieks could’a woke up a bear in hibernation,” he joked, poking at your ticklish spots and making you recreate those shrieks of giggles from earlier.

“Stop, stop! I get it!” you said between laughs. “Jesus…” You settled back into his arms pulling the covers over the two of you some more. “Doesn’t answer my question, though.” Joel hums and pulls you somehow closer and you get comfortable in his grip, feeling sleep start to claim your mind. “Do you?” you ask, voice dripping with fatigue.

“Do I what?”

“Think Frankie’s pretty?”

You feel him huff and shake his head, then you hear the smile in his voice, “Yeah… yeah, I do.”

You fell asleep that night with a smile.

—

“Bet you Frankie would like it if you got a little festive,” you pouted under your breath, just above barely audible, just where he would have to ask you—

“What was that?”

“I said I bet you Frankie would like it if you got a little festive.”

“‘S that so? And what makes you think I’d wanna put it on just to impress him, hm?”

“N— nothing… Please, put on the suit, Joel?” you beg, donning your biggest puppy eyes you can manage. “The whole house is already decorated. Everyone’s gonna love it. If anyone gives you shit, I’ll show them what’s up. But I promise they’re gonna love it. Pleeeeease?”

Joel stands, silent, crossing his arms and chewing his cheek, thinking.

A beat passes, then another beat, your relentless begging gaze boring holes into his heart.

He sighs. “Gimme the suit,” he says and extends a hand.

“Really? Really, Joel?”

“Gimme the suit ‘fore I change my mind,” he says, fighting the smile curing at the corners of his mouth.

—

You were right, the suit was a fucking hit.

Every one of Joel’s employees that walked in was enthusiastically shocked that the old man would get into the spirit, patting him on the back and hyping him up the whole night. Each reaction made you giggle as you greeted them all and showed them into the house.

Tommy was probably the most surprised of them all, giving his big brother so much shit about dressing up, but Joel just laughed it off and shoved his brother in the house.

Not long after Tommy arrived, the doorbell rang again. “I’ll get it!” you told Joel and made your way to the door.

It was Frankie, dressed in his nicest sweater and least damaged pair of jeans, still wearing that baseball cap he was never seen without, holding a bottle of wine with a ribbon tied around it. 

“Frankie!” you exclaimed, extending your arms for a hug.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late, the traffic was horrible.”

“It’s okay, Tommy just showed up and he doesn’t have an excuse at all.”

Frankie laughs and remembers the bottle in his hands. “Oh, this is for you and Joel.” He hands it over with a smile.

“Oh, Frankie… you didn’t have to get us anything!”

“Consider it my thanks for all the hospitality,” he says.

“Well, thank you for the wine. Come in!”

There’s no need for a tour with him, having already been to your house countless times before this. When he rounds the corner into the kitchen, he nearly trips over his own feet seeing Joel. 

“Oh yeah, forgot to mention that,” you said, poorly hiding the giggle bubbling up in your throat.

“Hi, Frankie,” Joel says, shyly raising an arm to wave.

“Hey-y-y,” Frankie giggles, waving back with one arm and holding his stomach with the other, almost doubled over in laughter.

The party plays out better than you even thought it would, the warm, bass-y tones of laughter filling the space of your home as everyone mingles and eats and drinks. Minutes easily turn to hours effortlessly dragging the night along. The later it gets, the more people slowly filter out returning back to their homes. You walk Tommy out to his girlfriend, Maria’s car, whom you called about half an hour earlier when you overheard him tell someone one more wouldn’t hurt.

As you close the door and turn back to the house, surprisingly very neat for having just hosted a party of contractors, it’s… eerily quiet. You expected Joel to be just behind you waiting to come back inside so he could whisk you off to bed. But he was nowhere to be found. 

You creep back through the house, not seeing him anywhere. You round the corner to the living room and…

You thought everyone had left. But, you guess the last to arrive ended up being the last to leave as well.

You see Frankie and Joel sitting on the couch, Joel lounging as normal, still decked in his Santa gear, and Frankie sitting sideways facing him, one hand cupped on Joel’s jaw, kissing him so slow, so gently… so intoxicatingly beautiful.

You stay in the door frame for a minute watching the two make out on the couch, hearing the tiniest little grunts and groans from each of them. A fire ignites in your belly and quickly grows before you clear your throat to break the silence. 

Frankie leaps back, starting to fumble his words and blushing bright red almost immediately. You look at Joel who looks calm and collected as ever, if not just a little dazed and blissed from the kissing he was just doing. 

“I-I— um— we— I—“

“It’s okay, I’m not mad,” you say gently, convincingly as you can.

Frankie must have mastered the puppy eye look just as you had and was using them on you now. “Y-you’re… not?”

You chuckle. “No. Furthest from it, really.”

“Told you she’d be okay with it,” Joel pipes up, tugging him closer on the couch.

You inch closer into the room. “We, um… I think Joel and I have a… confession to make.” Frankie watches with big, curious eyes as you make your way to sit on Joel’s other side. “Joel… how can I put it… Joel has a little bit of a… crush on you, I’d say.”

“Now hang on one minute—“

“Thinks you’re an excellent worker, wouldn’t stop talking about you for months.”

“You’re the one that said to bring him over in the first place!” Joel argues. 

“That’s true. Just wanted to see the guy responsible for helping you out so much… Remember that first time you came over?”

Frankie nods, still watching as curious as ever. 

“Well… y’know what? You should tell him what you said, Joel.”

“Huh?”

“Y’know… about how you think he’s real pretty and all…”

You see Frankie shift a little out of the corner of your eye, barely causing a ripple in the couch attempting to hide the movement.

“If I remember correctly… you’re the one that said that first.”

Your cheeks grow a little hot at the admission. “But you agreed with me.”

“Well, ‘cause I do. Think he’s pretty.”

You finally glance back at Frankie whose blushing cheeks are bright red at this point. “All that to say… I think we both have a bit of a liking for you, Frankie.”

“Yeah?” he asks, completely unsure how he ended up here, but eternally grateful for it.

“Yeah. Is that… are you okay with that?”

“Shit... y-yeah— yes. Yes, I am,” he says, trying to keep a grasp on whatever composure he has left.

You smile back at him. “Good. Joel, you wanna show him to our room, then?”

“It’d be my pleasure,” he says, taking Frankie’s hand and giving it a kiss before leading him down the hall.

The three of you glide down the hall, the tension pouring out of your pores and making the air hotter, thicker, as you cross the threshold of the bedroom.

Joel leads Frankie to the edge of the bed, letting him sit and leaning in to give him a sweet, deep kiss to his plush lips. They both groan into it, savoring the softness of the other’s skin.

“Mmm… you should try, baby. He’s a real good kisser,” Joel offers.

You sit right next to Frankie, cupping his cheek to turn his face to you and kiss him. 

Joel’s right, too. He is a good kisser. His velvet soft lips part when his tongue darts out to taste yours, a small whimper slipping from his throat as your mouths dance together, getting to know one another, melting into one. Frankie reaches up to grab your face, willing your mouth closer into him and your body follows, all but climbing into his lap to taste more, more, more as his hands trail up your body under your shirt and up to your chest—

The kiss is only broken when Frankie moans into your mouth, looking away from you with a hooded stare as he finishes yanking off your shirt. You follow his gaze to the floor just between his legs where Joel has sunk to the floor, palming Frankie over his jeans.

“Tha’s gotta be uncomfortable, hm?” he asks, giving his bulge another gentle squeeze. Frankie grunts and squeezes his eyes shut, trying to control his breathing and the slow leak threatening to ruin his pants. “Keep kissing him, angel. Gonna take care’a this.”

Joel’s hand slides up Frankie’s torso, slowly coaxing him to lay flat on the bed. You chase him with your mouth listening to each tiny gasp that leaves his lips as Joel gets to work with his pants.

The clink of his belt… the hum of a zipper… the tiny shimmy of Frankie’s hips as Joel slides his boxer briefs down his legs, stopping mid-thigh and running his hands back up to his hips.

“Jesus christ…” you hear him whisper, admiring the almost fully hardened length of the man in front of him, the tip of his cock shining in the low light from the bedside lamps, a small damp patch just barely seeping through to the outside of his underwear.

Joel’s own cock jumps at the sight. If he wasn’t turned on already from Frankie’s perfect lips, he sure as hell was turned on now. He can hardly keep himself from touching, one hand wrapping around Frankie’s length in an instant.

Frankie’s hips buck up and he pulls away from your mouth again, a low moan bellowing from his chest.

“Yeah? Feels good?” Joel mocks from below, lazily stroking up and down, up and down, swirling his hand at the top making Frankie squirm underneath him. “Look here, angel, look how hard he is.”

You glance down and can’t help the whimper that falls from your lips watching Joel slowly jerk Frankie off, the bright red tip leaking down his own length and making everything slick. And the sounds…

But it’s when you see that Joel’s other hand has his own length grasped in his palm, rubbing over his pants, that you let out a borderline growl… something about watching him get off to this… this idea that you had and felt brave enough to open the door of discussion to… this idea that Joel seemed more than happy to indulge in…

It’s then you realize how damp you feel, the wetness that’s been slowly building and building without you even realizing leaking out to soak your panties. You try to discreetly rub your legs together, seeking some sort of friction, anything at all.

But Joel sees it. He always sees it.

“Feelin’ left out, baby? She wants some attention, huh?”

You look at him with pleading eyes, an unspoken yes, yes please…

“Say, Frankie… that pretty mouth of yours got any other talents?”

Frankie looks down his body where Joel sits, already looking so fucked out and gone. “H-huh?”

“Take his mouth, go ‘head.”

Your body is buzzing as you look back at Frankie, the flame of arousal burning bright in his pupils as he frantically nods, leaning back for you to move. You take off your pants and ruined panties and shift over him, straddling his broad frame and maneuvering your knees around his head.

You hover over his face, looking down for permission to lower, “Is— Are you okay wi—”

You’re cut off by Frankie’s hands on the apex of your thighs tugging you down to meet his lips, and it is fucking heaven. “Oh, fuck…”

His scruff scratches the most sensitive parts of you, giving you exactly the friction you needed as his tongue greedily laps up your arousal, drinking it up like he’s been lost in the desert and you’re his oasis. You rock against his lips taking more and more of everything he’s giving you, and he helps you, coaxing you back and forth as more slick leaks from your hole. “Yeah, like that…” you moan, one hand slipping under his cap and through his ruffled hair, neither of you caring when it falls off onto the bed.

“Keep doin’ that, boy,” you hear Joel rumble behind you, followed by a whine from below right against your clit, making you jolt at the sudden vibration.

You look back and see Joel easing down Frankie’s length, slipping inch by inch down his throat, bobbing up and down taking more and more with each bob until he’s taken it all to the hilt.

God, is it a sight. You’re already whimpering watching him take more and more, but when he’s bottomed out and looks up, eyes barely watering, and he gives you a wink, you can’t help the downright pornographic moan that escapes your lips.

You turn back and look down at Frankie, seeing tears just starting to well in his eyes when he opens them with the most desperate gaze you’ve ever seen. “Fuck, Frankie… so fucking pretty…” you moan out, throwing your head back as his tongue dips inside you and his nose nudges your clit perfectly.

“Fuck…” you hear Joel gasp. “Fuck, angel… turn around, please. Lemme see that pretty face while he eats you out.”

You oblige, gently prying Frankie’s hands off your hips and cautiously spinning around over him. He gives you no time to settle back down, pulling you back flush with his face and drowning himself in you once again.

It’s a miracle he isn’t suffocating, or at least he doesn’t care if he is. He eats, and eats, and eats, your juices dripping down his face and his neck making a mess of him below. He works your hole and your clit, drawing out cries from you until your thighs are shaking, barely holding yourself up.

“Fuck yeah, baby… ride his fuckin’ face like that,” Joel encourages, stroking Frankie in tandem with the rock of your hips. “Gonna fuckin’ cum on his face, baby? Bet tha’s what he wants. ‘S that what you want, boy? Want her drippin’ down your tongue?”

You barely hear it over your whines, but a muffled mmhm is all you need to chase your rapidly building high, the feral need taking over you as you ride his face. His scruff tickles your most sensitive spots and his warm, wet, determined tongue works overtime to send you over the edge, and it fucking works, your orgasm crashing through you as you brace yourself on his belly, riding it out as you spill more slick down his face and his mouth works you through every second.

He doesn’t let up, licking you through every wave until you have to use every ounce of strength to fight his grip holding you down. You flop on the bed to the side and see Frankie’s face absolutely drenched in you, his mustache and scruffy beard soaking wet and his cheeks red as roses.

Frankie’s eyes are closed, his chest heaving as Joel works him faster, harder, the squelching noise from the precum furiously leaking from the tip of his cock almost drowning out the whines leaving his lips.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… ohhhhh, fuck— waitwaitwait—” he begs, pleads, with any ounce of strength he can still muster up.

Joel stops in an instant, “What’s wrong? You okay, Frankie? What happened?” he asks, concern drenching every word.

“It’s… fuck… nothin’s wrong… just…” he huffs, trying desperately to catch his breath. “Fuck, didn’t… wanna cum yet… shit…”

Worry leaves Joel’s features in an instant, swiftly replaced by contentment and ease that he’s alright. “Ohhh… was gettin’ t’be too much, huh?”

“Yeah…” he answers, breathlessly.

Joel rises on creaky knees to stand from where he knelt, reaching for Frankie’s hand to sit him up again. “You good to stand?” he asks, gently, voice nothing but bass.

He helps Frankie up on wobbly legs and switches places with him, dragging him into his frame between his knees, reaching up to his face and kissing him, licking you off his lips. “Mmm… tastes good, don’t she?” he asks with a smirk before crashing back into Frankie’s mouth.

His hands leave Frankie’s face to tug down the costume pants, finally freeing his fully hardened cock, tugging on it a few times before reaching for Frankie’s hands and guiding them into his lap. Frankie’s hand wraps around Joel’s length, his grasp encompassing his whole girth, but just barely so. Joel helps his hand along, up and down, up and down, a steady rhythm to make his cock slippery in his grasp. 

Frankie’s hand feels perfect, but Joel is an impatient man. And when he wants something, he’s gonna get it.

“You wanna sit on Santa’s lap, Frankie?” he says with a downright diabolical smirk.

“Oh, fuck— yes, please. Can I?”

“‘Course you can,” Joel smiles, reaching for the hem of his pants again and tugging them all the way down as Frankie toes off his shoes and steps out of each pant leg. He pats his thigh right where it meets his torso, “C’mon, boy, right here.”

Joel scoots back on the bed to make room as Frankie kneels on the bed lining himself up with Joel’s length. Frankie spits on his hand generously, giving Joel a few more tugs before lining him up with his tight ring of muscle.

“Shit, boy… no stranger to this, huh?”

Frankie just blushes, slowly lowering down to Joel’s lap, moaning as his greedy hole takes inch after inch until he’s sitting flush with Joel’s pelvis. He rises and falls a few times before finding a slow, steady rhythm, throwing his head back and bouncing eagerly up and down.

You watch in awe as Frankie fucks himself on Joel’s cock, resting his arms on Joel’s broad shoulders just like you do, Joel’s hands sitting on Frankie’s hips just like they do on your own. You feel your core flutter at the sight, half unaware of the whiny whimper that falls from your lips and fully unaware of your hand traveling south to play with the slick still drenching your folds.

The noise makes Joel turn his head and he extends his hand to you dragging you closer to him. He grabs your cheek and kisses you, his tongue begging entry into your mouth as you swallow each other’s moans.

Frankie wills his eyes open, watching the two of you make out right in front of him. It makes his cock throb as he bounces harder, a little faster, and Joel can feel him getting impatient.He pulls away from your desperate mouth, holding Frankie’s hips still and met with a whining protest about it. 

“Calm down a sec, cowboy. Got an idea…” You both look to him with curious, fucked out eyes. “Gonna lay back an’ you’re gonna ride my face just like you did for him, ‘kay princess?”

You nod back firmly, making a move towards him—

“Ah, ah— eager girl. Wasn’t finished…” he turns and looks at Frankie. “You got a hard job, think you can handle it?”

Frankie nods just as firmly, desperate to hear his rules to follow. “U-uh huh, I can handle it. Please.”

“Gonna keep ridin’ this cock, got it? But… you don’t cum ‘til I say so. Not even when she does. Not ‘til I say.”

Frankie’s chest jumps as his breath hitches, a grunt of a moan stifled at the back of his throat. His eyes flutter as he nods, trying desperately to keep his hips stilled and finding it harder and harder.

“We all good?” 

“Yes— yeah, all good,” you and Frankie both enthusiastically agree, desperate for more.

Joel leans back, tugging your hand his way. As you go to straddle him, he stops you. “Face him, baby. He didn’t get to see how pretty you look when you fall apart.”

Your eyes roll a bit as you lazily agree, spinning around to face Frankie. Sweat makes his forehead twinkle as he slowly rocks and bobs in Joel’s lap. You lower onto Joel’s face and immediately brace yourself on his belly, the feeling of his tongue more intense this time, still sensitive from before.

As hard as it is to keep his eyes open, Frankie can’t peel his gaze away from your face, contorted in pleasure as moans spill from your lips. “Oh, Joel… fuck, yes…”

Frankie can’t help but reach towards you, just wanting to touch you, feel your body… he cups your tits over your bra that you quickly undo and toss off the bed, desperate to feel his hands on your skin. “Go ahead, Frankie. Touch me, please,” you beg, holding his hands to your chest and squeezing them.

He mirrors you, kneading the flesh there and quickly throwing you back into the fire as Joel’s skillful tongue brings you closer and closer to the edge already. He never fails to unravel you in an instant, his tongue memorizing every inch of you right down to the softest spots that send you reeling in the blink of an eye.

It’s barely long at all before you feel the fire burning in your belly again, growing and growing as you desperately try to last just a little longer.

You distract yourself in Frankie, mesmerized by his face and his body that you wish you could see more of, hiding under his t-shirt that’s somehow still on.

“This—” you say, pawing at the hem of his shirt, “Off. Get this off—”

He doesn’t hesitate to help you peel his shirt off his sweaty body, throwing it haphazardly off the bed. His body is beautiful, the curves of his belly mirroring Joel’s so closely, and your hands are drawn to his skin like magnets, feeling every inch you can reach.

You don’t realize you’re lifting away from Joel’s face until he yanks you back down again, mercilessly lapping at your folds.

He pulls off again, just for a moment. “‘Member angel, he can’t come ‘til I say. Longer you’re ridin’ my face, longer he’s gotta wait.”

He’s back on your cunt in an instant, and your fluttering eyes barely catch the aroused and panicked expression on Frankie’s face. His cock makes a mess of Joel’s belly below, the leaking head spilling pearly white now as it gets harder and harder to stave off his orgasm. He languidly rocks back and forth trying desperately not to spill all over Joel’s gut before he’s allowed to.

Watching Frankie try so hard to keep his composure, teetering on the edge of collapse, turns you on more than you can even describe. Your hips move on their own at this point, or maybe it’s purely Joel rocking you in just the way he knows drives you crazy.

“Talk to ‘er,” he mumbles to Frankie from under your wet heat.

Your eyes blow wide, the growing fire turning to a blaze when Frankie opens his mouth.

“Fuck… g-gonna fucking cum for him too? Oh, shit… wanna… wanna see your face… when you—”

Frankie’s babbling is cut off by your moans as you cum for a second time tonight, thighs quivering and hips bucking on Joel’s face. He licks you through it, controlling the movement of your hips as you lose all control.

“Oh, my god… h-holy shit—” Frankie stops all movement, seconds away from making a mess of himself, Joel, and you sitting in front of him. His eyes bolt shut as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm, shaking when Joel eases you off of his face. 

He sits up cupping Frankie’s face in his hands. “Got a little more fight in you?”

Frankie takes a deep breath. “Mhm… yeah, uh huh…”

Joel chuckles low, stroking his cheek with his thumb. “Good. Hop off.”

Frankie’s eyes pop open, but he obliges, easing himself off of Joel’s length with a whine at the sudden emptiness.

“Go ‘head and climb up there,” Joel instructs gently as Frankie climbs onto the bed where you lay, still a puddle of overstimulated mess. Joel gently tugs at your ankles pulling you towards the end of the bed, leaning down to kiss you, soft and sweet. 

“Can you gimme one more, angel? Can you stay up for me?”

Your eyes try their best to focus on his face, a hazy blur clouding your vision just a bit as you hum and nod to him. “Uh huh… can stay up…”

“Attagirl… alright, hands and knees, baby.”

You do as you’re told, flipping over and around so your backside faces him at the end of the bed. He stands over your body, hands gliding over the globes of your ass, up your back, stroking every inch of bare skin spread in front of him. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous…” he mumbles, before laying a tap to your ass, causing you to jolt a little and whine at the contact. “Alright Frankie…” Frankie perks up, hanging onto Joel’s every word. “‘M gonna take this pretty hole back here… An’ you take that one up there. Sounds good?”

You clench around nothing. The idea of both of them filling you as much as you can take… Using you for their pleasure…

“Fuck… yeah, good, mhm…” Frankie babbles, shimmying himself to kneel in front of you.

You look up at him, down his body, to his ruddy cock, hard as diamond right in front of you. Your mouth waters at the sight and you motion for him to come a little closer.

Joel grabs his length, lining the head up with your entrance. You stifle a whimper at just the contact of his fat tip pressing into your most sensitive spots. “Ready?” he asks. You both whimper a yes, ready.

They both enter you at the same time, sliding into you wet, wanting holes cautiously first, but easily. So, so easily. The three of you groan in pleasure, them from your warmth and you from the fullness.

Joel sets a pace, fucking in and out of your dripping cunt with ease, quite a feat for the sheer fucking size of him, but you’re so worked up that you practically suck him in and dont dare to let him go. Frankie doesn’t follow Joel’s face, testing the waters of your throat and what it can take.

“She can handle it, boy. If she can take all’a me, she can take all’a you too,” Joel says with a wink.

Neither one of them is small by any means, but Joel was right. He was a bit thicker than Frankie is, and it took a while for your mouth to get used to his size. And while Frankie wasn’t as thick, he might have been just a little longer. It was impossible to tell now, though, they both felt impossibly huge stuffed inside of you, each of them chasing their own highs.

Joel’s pace has already picked up, the warm walls of your pussy crying for him to keep going, don’t stop, right there… the grip on your hips unforgiving as he slams in and drags back out over and over and over…

Frankie keeps rocking into your mouth, a little faster now, and you taste the salty precum leaking onto your tongue and down your throat.

“So fuckin’ hot, angel… stuffed so fuckin’ full…”

“God, you feel good…” Frankie whispers down to you, and you wish you could see his face while you take him to the hilt. Instead, you pull away and spit directly onto the head of his cock before taking him back into your throat completely, using one hand to play with his balls. “Oh, fuck… oh, fuck…”

“Ah ah, boy— unh— not— not ‘til I say,” Joel reminds him.

Frankie takes a few deep breaths, holding your face so delicately, like it could break, trying to ground himself and fucking focus…

“One more, baby, one more right on this cock… an’ then you can too, boy…”

Joel fucks you harder, faster, bruising your cervix with every thrust, the ridges of his cock dragging along every nerve ending in your walls bringing you closer, and closer, and closer—

“Oh, fuck, Joel! Right there! Don’t fucking stop!”

He doesn’t. Not at all. He keeps the same relentless pace, hitting that soft spot deep inside you that he always finds without fail. You flutter around his length, clamping down on him as he reaches around your front to find your clit. He teases your little bundle of nerves, circle after circle after circle, hurdling you closer and closer to release.

“Fuck, tha’s right, baby. Tha’s fuckin’ right.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck— ‘m gonna fuckin’ cum, Joel,” Frankie cries, his hips bucking out of rhythm.

“Yeah? Gonna spill down her throat while she’s creamin’ my cock? Go ‘head, both of y’all, at the same time. C’mon—” he grunts, one strong thrust sending you reeling, spasming, damn near collapsing onto the bed as your third orgasm rips through you at an earth-shattering rate.

“Jesus fucking christ—” Frankie groans before his own thighs are trembling, his cock throbbing in your mouth as ropes of cum shoot down your throat, fucking himself in your mouth through his own high, the vibrations from your moans making his body shiver as you drain him empty.

Like dominos falling, Joel is next to go, painting your walls with his spend at the sight of you and Frankie falling apart right in front of him, throbbing in your overstimulated cunt as both ends suck each man dry.

The three of you are a pile of huffing, heaving messes, catching your breaths and dripping sweat onto your sheets. After a minute, Joel slowly slides out of you, his cum leaking out of your swollen pussy and dripping onto the sheets. The rest of your body plops down onto the mattress when he lets you go.

Joel steps back and looks at the two of you, sprawled out on the bed in a completely fucked out daze, and chuckles.

“Guess that that was a good enough present for the two’a you, huh?”

You both give a tired, breathy giggle stretching and wiggling around the mattress. You crawl up towards Frankie laying on the pillows and curl into him, and he welcomes you like this is something you’ve always done, with ease, with comfort.

Joel walks into your bathroom and returns with a towel, cleaning you up before climbing next to you, now sandwiched between the two burly men, all three of you basking in post-coital bliss.

“That is… not how I thought the night would end,” Frankie says with a sigh and a chuckle.

You giggle back. “No? Not even a little?” you tease.

Frankie hums a laugh. “So, was this… is this something that you guys… talked about before?”

You turn a little and look at Joel who is just admiring the two of you. His eyebrows raise a bit, an exhale of a laugh leaving his lungs. “Hmm… I mean, It’s come up a few times.”

Frankie turns his head to look at Joel, silently asking for more.

“Started that first time you came over an’ it just… I don’t know, it would come up from time to time. Was never opposed to the idea and… Tonight was the night the pieces fell just right, I s’pose,” he explains, the ghost of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

You can see it haunting Frankie’s lips too, threatening to show just how much he enjoyed this too.

“Think it’s safe to say we all enjoyed it, huh?” you tease again, nudging Frankie and throwing Joel a knowing glance. Frankie turns away, blushing.

The three of you cuddle a little closer, savoring each other’s company, glowing with pleasure as you lay there, falling asleep knowing things might have changed, but for the absolute better.

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

you write "enemies to ____" SO WELL. and i've had an AU daydream stuck in my head for a month that is violet as a second year scribe pulled into the revolution bullshit first because jessinia and liam started banging, but mostly because of the suspicion of it all

Oh thank you!! That’s such a fun daydream. Unfortunately, I don’t actually ship Liam and Jesinia, so a full fic with them in it would kick my ass, but you should try your hand at it!!!

Have this drabble as inspo (620 ish words, canon compliant, set during IF part one except Xaden is there because I wanted him to be):

“It’s second year rider business, Jes. I’m sorry.”

Violet peeks her head around the archive’s shelving unit just long enough to watch Liam’s fingers move, then settle. She should retreat back to safety. She should prioritize not getting caught. But she needs to know what Jes says back.

“Last time you had ‘second year rider business,’” Jesinia retorts, hands moving so sharply, they recruit her arms and chest for emphasis, “you came back bloodied and bruised.”

Violet can just make out Liam’s sad smile over the top of Jesinia’s head. The sight of it—that private sweetness—is almost enough to make Violet want to hide back in the stacks. Instead, she settles for pulling her hood higher over her head. If Liam happens to look her way, he might not recognize her if her hair is tucked under the cream fabric.

“A different type of second year rider business,” Liam admits. Somehow, his body language conveys his guilt without any of the usual signifiers. His hands are heavier, his motions softer.

Violet needs to know what it means.

The worst part is, Violet actually likes Liam. He doesn’t have that typical aura of rider arrogance, and he’s so good to Jesinia. If only he wasn’t a liar. Then, he’d be perfect.

Violet fiddles with her hood once more, covering as much of her head as she can. She steps backward, meaning to hide herself behind the shelf once more. She’ll come face to face with her books, and she’ll find one to inconspicuously pull off the shelf. When Jesinia returns from her boyfriend, she’ll be none the wiser to Violet’s scheming, just as it should be.

But, as she spins to face the shelves, there are no books in her line of sight. Instead, her vision is filled with darkness, a black shirt on a broad black chest.

She tries to swallow down her gasp, but she’s too slow. He hears it, and he smirks, relishing her surprise.

“Eavesdropping, Violence?”

“Deserting your post, Riorson?”

His smirk stretches even further across his face at her accusation. Her hate for him flickers in her chest, a twin flame to her annoyance, her invigoration. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m here on dragon business.”

She crosses her arms. He is not in her archives on dragon business.

“Riders aren’t allowed this far back,” she counters, eyes narrowed on him.

He merely cocks his head. He enjoys her scrutiny, too. “Mairi’s back here.”

“Yes, well, we like Liam. He gets special privileges.”

He doesn’t, actually. Jesinia’s completely fucked if any of the other scribes catch on to her study-dates. Of course, Jesinia’s completely fucked in plenty of areas. If her boyfriend’s schemes involve Xaden Riorson, traitor’s son…

Violet can’t think about that when the man is right before her. It’s dangerous. She intuits that much from the sight of the swords on his back.

He plasters a hand on his chest. “You don’t like me, Violence? I’m hurt.”

She’s not sure why his teasing gets her, but it does. She rises onto her toes and slams a finger into his muscled chest.

“I know you’re up to something,” she hisses, “and I am going to find out what.”

His eyes take her in, appraising her in her scribe robes.

“I’m sure you will, Violence.” He steps back, out from under her finger, and nods at someone over her shoulder. Violet spins to find Liam and Jesinia, watching the show. Her cheeks flush pink. She’d rather look at Riorson, so she spins right back around. He’s still smirking at her, bastard that he is. She hears the smirk in his voice as he adds, “Be sure to let me know when you do.”

She watches him leave, Liam at his side. She is going to figure him out.

[bubbipond]

Bison had no intention (in the beginning) of being with Kant just as much as Kant/Style had/have no intentions of being with Fadel/Bison. Now this is just my opinion, and in no way, am I trying to be condescending (since I’ve gotten that before when I have made analysis posts). In a general sense, if you are easily defensive, maybe reading people’s opinions is not for you. But if you want to read because you like to read other people’s thoughts, enjoy. ❤️

I am going to use *10 Things as my reference because I think it leans more towards that adaption than it does *Taming. If you haven’t read Taming or watched 10 Things, this may help you understand what a lot of the fandom talks about. For those who have watched or read either of the references for THK we know that the story is that Kat (Fadel) is the impossible sister who will never marry, and that Bianca (Bison) is the sister that everybody wants. In order to get both of his daughter’s married, their father decides to make it a rule that the only way Bianca can get married is if Kat gets married. This leads to the plot of manipulating Kat into being “Tamed” by her love interest in the original text (the movie moves away from this and instead has Patrick love her for who she is).

Going back to Bison, his character reflects that of Bianca; the very popular, beautiful, and wanted little sister (brother). The thing that I think some people are getting wrong about Bison is that he is more of a loverboy than he actually is. In the movie adaption, Bianca has no intention of ever being with Cameron. I’d say she’s not even that into Joey either, just wants the popularity dating him brings. She uses him as a ruse to get Kat to finally date so she can date. In the beginning, she kind of sees Cameron as a cute puppy. Almost like this person that she can manipulate just because she knows they want something from her. She eventually does start to like Cameron, but there are trials that she has to go through to see that. That being said, I don’t think Bison initially wanted to be with Kant. I think much like Bianca he was trying to free himself from what he sees as a lack of freedom and free will.

It’s not that I’m saying he doesn’t want revenge for his parents (he obviously does, but that is seemingly a ruse by “mom” to keep them around). But it is more so that just like Bianca, his brother is an obstacle within itself. The issue here is that he loves his brother (just like Bianca loves Kat) but neither set of siblings truly knows the other. They fight to protect each other, but can’t even do that because how do you protect someone you don’t truly understand? The only person in the reference material who is truly a victim of the plot is Kat (Fadel) as they are the only people in their stories who have genuine feelings for Patrick (Style). At no point is any of it a joke or a game or even a ploy to get what they want. In general, neither Kat nor Fadel are that savvy and both are far too levelheaded to do anything that the other characters do. So when you look at the motivation behind Bison’s attempt at freedom, he has to be far more savvy than anyone around him.

This is because you have to keep in mind that both Bianca and Bison’s goals aren’t to trick or hurt their sibling. They are looking for someone who would love their “difficult” sibling while also getting something in return. Bison didn’t mean for Kant to hire someone to fake like his brother. Just as much as Bianca didn’t ask Cameron to hire someone to fake date her sister. They are both fiercely protective of their older sibling and that is why we constantly see Bison five steps ahead or paying attention to things that even Fadel isn’t. I think what adds to the story is that the stakes are much higher. In 10 Things you have a bunch of high schoolers dealing with pretty high school issues. But in this sense, you have people’s livelihood at stake. So I think it feels like so much more pain is being brought up than in the original media. It’s easier to find fault in Kant, Style, and Bison because we’re watching a bunch of people do pretty terrible things. But I think for this type of story, you have to kind of remove morals because all four are pretty morally gray. None of them are perfect people or, like in the movie, kids.

Anyway, that’s all for me! Bye!

*Taming = Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare (play) *10 Things=10 Things I Hate About You (movie adaption of said play).

[writing-blog-iguess]

Online Matchup 12

Summery: Something seems to be going on with Jason. Instead of pushing him, Y/n lets him be and talks to friends.

Warning: swearing

I Tag list: @teapartydreams @adorabluesposts

ao3 Series master list

A/n: Happy holidays! Have a filler, it’s a little angsty but it ends in a happy. I know I've been just posting just this pic. I'm having a bit of a hard time ending the other fics but hope to get them done in January. That is my goal.

—————

March 22

Y/N (7:37 am)

How’d it going today?

Y/n (8:58am)

I burnt my breakfast

I don’t even know how that happened

I looked away for a minute and the next thing I know

The smoke detector went off and there’s smoke in the kitchen

D:

I’m so sad

Now I don’t have anything to eat and I’m late for school

Y/n (10:00am)

I am not sure why I thought getting my engineering degree was a good idea

Nothing my teacher is saying is making sense

I want to go home

Y/N (1:28pm)

So, classes are done but now I have to work

With the amount of sleep I didn’t get

Work is the last thing I want to do

Y/n (3:43pm)

I made another fire again today

Downside, they docked my pay a little

Upside, I get to go home early today

So there’s that

Y/n (4:39 pm)

I hope you’re doing okay

Y/n (5:04 pm)

Hey Steph?

Is Jason okay?

Stephanie

What do you mean?

Y/n

I don’t know

I haven’t heard from him today

I just want to know if he’s okay

Stephanie

He hasn’t talked to you at all today?!.

Y/n

No, and we didn’t get into a fight

Did something happen?

Stephanie

Yeah, but I don’t think I’m the one who should tell you

Y/n

Yeah I understand

There are some things he hasn’t told me

I know that much

Stephanie

I’m sorry

Y/n

No worries

But could you tell me if he’s doing okay whenever you see him?

Stephanie

Of course

Y/n (5:14 pm)

Do you think you’ll see Jason today?

Roy

Um, I’m on my way to him now

How’d you know?

Y/n

Wild guess

I know he’s dealing with something but I don’t know what

Could you tell him I’m here for him if he ever needs me?

Roy

Why can’t you tell him yourself?

Y/n

He hasn’t been talking to me today

And I didn’t want to push if he doesn’t want to talk

The last time we went no contact, we both pushed each other away

Roy

That asshole

Y/n

Just be nice when you see him

Roy

I was

But now I should give him shit for what he’s putting you through

Y/n

No don’t

This is nothing compared to whatever Jason is going through

Roy

If I didn’t know better

You already know what’s he going through

Y/n

But I don’t

I just know that it’s bad if he’s not talking to anyone right now

Roy

You really care about him huh?

Y/n

I’m not afraid to admit it

Roy

Good

Jason needs someone like you on his side

I’m glad he has you

You threw your phone on the couch after reading Roy’s message, and bit your thumbnail in thought. Roy’s words had a deeper meaning now then before you knew the whole truth. And wondered if they would hold the same weight after they realized you went behind Jason’s back to find the truth.

It wasn’t something you needed to worry about now. There was something more pressing and you weren’t sure what to do but wait.

Sighing, you stood from the couch and made your way to the kitchen. After eating supper, you retrieved your laptop from your room and set it on the table.

Staring at it for a good minute or two, you made up your mind and turned it out. Once logged in, you went through the motions and found yourself in the Batcomputer again.

There was nothing for you to do but watch and wait. And that’s what you did for the rest of the night, you watched and listened as they talked out plans and watched as Oracle fought against the Calculator.

Scared of being discovered, you were debating whether or not you should leave. But you couldn’t, not until you knew Jason was okay.

But the decision was made for you when Oracle forced both you and Calculator when she rebooted her system. You gave her credit and wondered why she didn’t do that earlier.

With nothing to do, you slumped against your chair and hoped everything turned out in their favour.

“Jason you have a minute?” Roy called as the Outlaws made their way out of the building with Riddler in tow. Jason nodded, and the two of them branched off from their friends.

”What’s up?” Jason asked when they were far enough away from prying ears.

“Have you talked to Y/n lately?” Roy asked, and Jason flinched at the mention of you. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Are they doing okay?” Jason asked, rubbing the back of his neck. Roy shrugged and said he didn’t know. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“Exactly that, I don’t know,” he answered, “I just know that they’re really worried about you and wanted you to know that they’re there if you need them.”

“I’ll always need them,” Jason said without a second thought.

“That’s probably something you need to tell them, not me,” Roy said and looked towards their friends. “Look, everything seems to be okay here now. And I doubt Batman needs our help right now.”

“Probably because he’s being a stubborn asshole,” Jason muttered and Roy ignored it with a shake of his head.

“Why don’t you go see Y/N?” Roy suggested, “it would ease their mind a bit.” Jason shook his head at the thought.

“Not yet,” he said, “not until we deal with Joker. The last thing I need or want is for Joker to find Y/N.”

“Fair enough. Then at least answer their texts,” he said, “that’s something you can do without Joker knowing.”

“Suppose you’re right,” Jason said, sighing in defeat.

“I’m always right,” Roy said, gaining a laugh out of his friend.

“Not always,” he said and walked off towards his bike. He pulled out his phone. Scrolling through his messages, he couldn’t help but laugh.

Jason (12:35 am)

You set two things on fire today

One might think you’re a pyromaniac

Y/n (1:09 am)

:O

I am no such thing

i set ONE thing on fire and burnt my eggs

There is a difference

Jason

No I don’t think so

It’s the same thing

Y/n

Well then I guess your seeing a pyromaniac

Jason

I’ve dated worst things

Y/n

Ex-fucking-cuse me?

What could possibly be worse than a pyromaniac?

Jason

A serial killer

Y/n

YOU DATED A SERIAL KILLER?

Jason

Okay, not technically

Y/n

What does that mean?!

Jason

Means she was apart of the league of assassins

And given that their job description is basically their title

It's the same thing

Y/n

I can feel you shrugging like its not a big deal

But it is

And I worry for you and your taste of women

Jason

There’s nothing wrong with my taste in women

Y/n

Says the guy who dated a women who kills for a living

And me, who’s and I’m quoting here

a ‘pyromaniac’

Jason

Nothing wrong with a little arson

Y/n

My goodness

Judging by that statement alone, I think you’re the pyromaniac

Jason

Well, I mean I have done a little arson myself

So I’m not one to judge

Y/n

……

Jason

Wow, six dots

I must really made an impression

Y/n

You’re lucky your pretty

Jason

I knew it

You’re only into me because of my looks

Y/n

-_-

I’m going to bed

Jason

No, no no wait

I went a little to far, I’m sorry

Y/n

You’re forgiven

Can I call you? Or are you too busy for that?

Jason

Not busy persay, just I’m with my friends and I’m not yet ready for you to meet them

Y/n

Afraid I’ll run away?

Jason

Something like that

Sometimes they can be a little too much

And protective

Other then that, I wouldn’t mind hearing your beautiful voice

Y/n

Oof, maybe I should go to bed

I’m red like a tomato

Jason

Sounds like a sight to see

Y/n

I’m sure it is

…

Are you okay?

And don’t just saying something cheesy like

Jason

I’m better now that I’m talking to you

Y/n

You son of a bitch

I told you not to say something like that

Smooth fucker

Jason

But I am telling the truth

Something came up last night that triggered something

I had to leave town for the day, but my friends showed up and we talked.

Roy said something about you being worried

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you

I just, I needed to deal with it before I could see you or talk to you

Y/n

No I get

Probably didn’t help with all my messages

But I’m glad you’re feeling better

Still dealing with it?

Jason

Yeah

But once it’s done, I’ll come and see you

Promise

Y/n

Take your time with it, I don’t mind the wait

I’m just glad you to hear from you

Jason

I’m so glad I met you

Y/n

Me too

[coolgrl111]

LOVESTRUCK

famous!patrick zweig x unknown!reader

a/n: i’m sorry i had too much fun with this. don’t take it too seriously 😭😭😭😭

inspired by @222col !!!!

———

liked by artdonaldson, yourusername and 305,884 others

patrickzweig Life is good right now 🤙💞

view all comments

artdonaldson okay awesome where am i?

user my bf is so cutie pie

user WAITTT OMG who is the girl

user soft launch???????

user wait he has a gf oh no we lost

yourusername 💋❤️

— patrickzweig ❤️

— artdonaldson hey guys i exist too btw :)

user BOYYY arts goofy ass trying to get in😭😭

user IS THAT HERR? did he just reveal her already. bro has no subtlety

— patrickzweig mind ur business pls 😣

———

liked by patrickzweig, tashiduncan and 101 others

yourusername second slide is me and the bf ❤️‍🔥

view all comments

patrickzweig USSSS ITS SO US!!!!

— yourusername US!!!💘😣💘😣💘😣

patrickzweig so pretty so stylish

patrickzweig us coded 🤓

yourbestfriend is that my belt

— yourusername yes ma’am 🙂‍↕️

artdonaldson wait who’s your bf 😂

— yourusername my bf is also ur bf

tashiduncan The prettiest angel baby

— yourusername you’re my pretty princess queen 🫵🫵💝💝💝💝

user i think this is patrick’s girlfriend?????

— user how do you know??

— user well she looks the same as the girl from his post and tashi, art and pat follow her so maybe?

user WAIT IS THIS HER

user she’s not even all that😭

yourbestfriend ANGEL

user when’s it my turn ☹️

user adorbs😘😘😘😘

———

liked by yourusername, artdonaldson and 704,295 others

patrickzweig Onwards and upwards, lads! ☺️

view more comments

user HARD LAUNCHHHHH

yourusername i’m just the luckiest gal!

— patrickzweig im luckier!

— artdonaldson you’re not a girl pat

artdonaldson my favs 🔥🧊

user awww they’re cute

adidas These are 🔥, Patrick!

yourusername my man my man

tashiduncan YAAAAAYYYY

user stick to hitting balls pls😭😭

user i thought he was dating madison beer wait

— user what why😭😭😭

artdonaldson hey i play tennis too guys

— tashiduncan your bisexuality is showing

— artdonaldson wait haha im not gay tashi haha what???

[accio-victuuri]

merry christmas to us turtles, my gift to you is this clowning post for yibo’s new song ( i am not here ) concept poster. of course, we have multiple cpns already with this material alone. lol. i’m sure we will know more when the track is released and other bts stuff. reminder to enjoy the song & if it’s cpn leaning or not doesn’t really matter. we are here to support yibo and this is his yearly “gift” to fans 🎁

as with xz’s we album art, our minds immediately went to the cql connection. it’s too easy! this is because the chinese title is 我在 which is i’m here but the english title and what’s on the poster is i am not here ( possible explanation of why this happens is at the end of this post ). it could be that these two lines are in the song — anyway, the “i am here” is something that lwj said 🥹🥹🥹🥹

in the novel, this has more weight and makes me wanna scream actually 😭😭😭😭

i will just include here the part/s in the novel that people are referencing:

Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian called out. Lan Wangji’s breathing wasn’t as steady as it usually was—it was slightly short, probably from overexerting himself in hand-to-hand combat while carrying Wei Wuxian on his back. However, the tone with which he answered him had the same steadiness he’d always possessed, and it was still that word: “Mn.” After that, he added, “I’m here.” Hearing those two words, a feeling Wei Wuxian had never felt before spread into his heart. It was like an ache. His heart throbbed a little, but it was also a little warm

LAN ZHAN…” Wei Wuxian murmured. He reached out and grabbed one of Lan Zhan’s sleeves. Lan Wangji, who had been keeping watch by his side, immediately leaned over to answer him softly. “I am here.”

Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian mumbled. Everyone was overjoyed, thinking he was about to wake up, but Wei Wuxian’s eyes remained tightly shut. Lan Wangji, on the other hand, looked as he usually did. “Mn. I am here.”Wei Wuxian said nothing else. He nuzzled against Lan Wangji, as if feeling safe and reassured, and continued to sleep.

The moment Wei Wuxian heard the dog, his hair immediately stood on end and he shrank into Lan Wangji’s embrace. Scared completely out of his wits, he cried out. “Lan Zhan!” Lan Wangji already knew to hold him. “Mn!” he assured him. “I am here!” “Hold me!” Wei Wuxian pleaded. “I am!” Lan Wangji replied. “Hold me tight!” Wei Wuxian then specified. “I am!” Lan Wangji confirmed.

and if you think about it— this is what wyb is to xz. he is there. even when is not there physically, he is. and vice versa 🫶🏼

plus the photo of yibo with his eyes closed, similar to lwj. personally, it’s making me so jealous of his eyebrows again 😤😤😤😤

fans are also going back to that one post of xz that said i’m here, good night! and when you connect that to the goodnight song that we think is a bjyx inspired track. and now yibo releases i’m here.

if you wanna clown some more, you can say that wyb’s song is sort of an answer to goodnight. cause xz’s more about not being with that person physically but he cherishes the goodnight they share with each other at the end of the day. and wyb is saying i’m here / i’m not here. ybo’s caption for the teaser is “Close your eyes and the colors of the world bloom in your heart. The distant blur and the real reunion at hand.”

so it’s a reunion? being together after some time apart? Close your eyes? Sleep and you will see me there cause i’m in your heart too. but don’t worry, we will be together soon.

I SWEAR. 😭😭😭😭😭

ALSO THIS TYPE OF DESIGN:

and how their song titles have two characters. we and i’m here. it goes well together.

and pretty much like how hu ge used “we/us” in his caption before. the same happened with this track. what a coincidence! 👀👀👀👀

Lastly, i found someone explaining why there is a difference in the direct translation. We had experience with this in GG’s songs form his wo men album. In the same way that the english titles of Chinese movies almost always is not the direct translation.

If the Chinese name is "I’m here” and the English name is "I am not here", this may be due to the following reasons:

1. Cultural differences and artistic conception: When Chinese and English express the same concept, they often have different language styles and cultural backgrounds. Sometimes Chinese names may focus on conveying a certain kind of meaning & artistic conception or emotion, while English names are more direct or have reverse meanings. For example, the Chinese name "I am" may convey a sense of presence or some kind of presence. The English name "I am not here" may be intended to express an emotion or theme of absence.

2. The double meaning of the work: It is possible that this work focuses on a certain theme (such as existence, positioning, presence) in Chinese, but in English it uses negative sentences. The expression conveys the opposite meaning, thereby creating a certain sense of contrast or suspense. This naming scheme may be intended to pique the interest of viewers or readers and encourage them to explore the work and the deep meaning behind it.

3. Translation strategy: Sometimes in order to adapt to the habits and aesthetics of different language markets, translation will take a certain degree of freedom. The translator may think that the English "I am not "here" can better capture the essence of the original work in a certain context or can more effectively resonate with English audiences.

4. Difference in context; if "I Am" is a contrasting or symbolic name, then the English name "i am not here" may be related to the content of the story. For example, a character may not be physically present, but still "exist" or "affect" the story on other levels.

In short, the differences between Chinese and English titles may be due to differences in language and culture, or may be due to the creator or translator's attempt to better convey the theme or introduction of the story. A choice made based on the curiosity of the audience.

There is also this interpretation:

The philosophy of "presence" and "absence" of emotions:

The combination of the two can also be understood as a philosophical reflection on presence and absence. "I’m here" can be seen as a declaration and guarantee of love, meaning that even if you are not together in a space, two people can still perceive each other mentally and rely on each other; and "I am not here" faces the physical absence in reality and is an emotion.

Self-expression on the Internet means that although you are not in front of the other person, you are still with them in your heart. It symbolizes the silent understanding and spiritual bond between long-distance lovers. Even if they cannot always appear in each other's lives, their hearts will always be with them.

Resonance in long-distance relationships:

Summary:

For couples in long-distance relationships, "I Am Here" may be the singer's promise to his lover - "I am here, no matter where you are"; while "I am not here" It is to Acknowledge the difficulties and helplessness of reality, "Although I am no longer with you, I still care about you." The two combine to express the unique experience of long-distance love: between love and absences, there are both firm commitment and deep longing and helplessness.

The combination of "I am here " and "I am not here" shows the emotional tension in long-distance relationships. Together they express a profound emotional state: that of being physically. We are not together physically, but our emotional and spiritual connection is strong. "I am here” represents deep love and firm commitment, while "I am not here" is a positive statement.

Acknowledging the sense of distance and absence in long-distance relationships. Together, they convey a sense of emotional persistence and acceptance of distance from reality, while also demonstrating that even in absence, Love still exists and is still real.

The Chinese and English names of this song are not only a true portrayal of the emotion of long-distance love, but also express the two aspects of love - persistence and absence, presence and loss, embodying the duality in long-distance relationships. No matter where we are, our hearts will always find each other.

THIS IS ALL GUESSWORK/CLOWNING. The title could change. There could be a completely different meaning than we think. It’s still so early but this is what’s fun with being a turtle and doing cpn <3 don’t take it seriously! Again, what’s important is we will get a new song! 🙌🏼

source/s

[emmg]

Idk y’all, as someone who’s dated more than a few people in their 50s while in my current late 20s, almost 30s (yeah, I know, let’s all take a moment to side-eye me lmao) this whole “the years between us” thing that seems to haunt the Emmrich romance in fanfiction feels… a bit much sometimes

Like, sure, you have the talk, lay out expectations, and occasionally butt heads because one person thinks “traditional” means they’re right and the other’s all “woke this, progressive that” or any variation of that

Every conversation is not a fucking Shakespearean sonnet starting with, “Oh, my love, the tragic years between us 🥺🥺”

Lmaooo i already know im gonna get crucified for this oh man why am I even posting this lol

And like, I know I do this shit too in my writing, im guilty (so if anything, I’m dragging my own ass here). “Guilty” isn’t even the right word, though, since that makes it sound like there’s something inherently wrong with it. Ugh. Anyway, what I’m rambling about is dialogue, not inner thoughts. I can’t claim to know anyone’s inner monologue

But the talking? The conversations? It’s not like every morning over breakfast starts with, “Oh nooo, one of us is older/younger, how will we ever overcome this vast chasm of age before the eggs get cold?!” Lmao. Like, no. That’s not how it works lol

it’s just dating. Lmao. And to be clear, I’m not criticizing anyone specifically, so don’t come for me with pitchforks. I’m tired, my brain is mush, and I’m probably saying this all wrong, but whatever. Just throwing it out there