#I WAS LOOKING AT Y OLD ART AND I USED TO HAVE SO MUCH MORE FUN WITH ART HOLY SHIT

[gotta-winwin]

𓆩🖤𓆪 ... falling in love through songs pt.1 - teaser

⭐ starring: vernon

💬 preview: you really wished someone would've told you that the rockstar you'd be photographing for on his tour was Hansol from school. Yes, that Hansol. Your ex-boyfriend Hansol.

tw/cw: rockstar!vernon x photographer!reader, second chance romance, exes to lovers, sworn enemies to lovers, forced proximity, a cheeky joshua, lots of banter full tw will be posted with the full fic

🪽fic rating/teaser rating: pg/16+

🪽tentative release date: jan 20

☁️ masterlist & a/n: here i am once again with a vernon fic, but this time to kick off our 500 followers event! this one is based on the song heart out by the 1975, one especially close to my own heart.

this is a part of my 500 followers event

“Hear me out.” Joshua spread his arms as if to hug the air in front of him. “The two of us, on tour, in a tour bus, a fat paycheck.” 

You pursued your lips, biting back a smile. His proposition had sounded tempting even over the phone, where he had offered you a photography job on the tour he was managing, a spot on the bus and front row seats to every show. 

“It’ll be fun!” He continued, driving the nail in further. “The guy I manage- he’s a chill dude, great rockstar. You’d get along great.” 

“What did you say his name was again?” You asked, looking over the contract he had given you one more time. 

“Vernon.” Joshua nudged your arm, pushing you to sign. “C’mon. It’ll be like the old days again, bandwagoning across the country in the name of making art.” He placed the last words in air quotations as he smiled. “And the paycheck doesn’t hurt.”

“Not at all.” It was a ridiculous amount of money. “When do we start?”

Clapping his hands, Joshua looked joyous to have you along. “First concert’s tomorrow, right here in New York. It starts at 8, but come earlier so you can meet the band first. I’ll introduce you to Vernon- oh, he’s going to be so psyched to see you.” 

As much as you loved his enthusiasm, the jitters of having such a high profile job was catching up to you, once again reminding you just how high the stakes were. You needed this job, for the money, for the recognition it’d give you - you needed it all. 

Flashing Joshua a bright smile, you nodded, looking more confident than you felt. “Great. I’ll go home, pack my things, and I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Alright, sunshine.” Joshua chuckled as you struggled to put your coat back on, your childhood nickname rolling off his tongue like second nature. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“This was not the fucking deal, Josh.” 

You couldn’t believe your eyes as you stared, open-mouthed at the boy in front of you, decked out in silver chains, ripped jeans and sporting a backwards baseball cap. He all but screamed rockstar, yet you keep circling back to the fact that-

“Hansol?” 

-the fact that you knew him. Very well, in fact.

“Y/N?” 

He seemed just as astonished to see you, eyes darting suspiciously towards Joshua. “This, is my tour photographer?” 

“This?” You cried out indignantly, turning to Joshua as well. “Did it just not cross your mind to mention that your rockstar happened to be Hansol from school?” 

“Well-” Joshua put his hands up in defence, the large grin on his face betraying how much he was enjoying the moment. “Surprise?” 

“Joshua!” Both you and Vernon yelled out, anger escaping as the two of you contemplated whether or not throttling Joshua would be worth the consequences.

“I am not staying on a tour bus with her.” Vernon pointed an accusatory finger your way. “Especially not for four months. I’d rather throw myself off a cliff.” 

“I’d rather chop off my own finger and eat it.” You hissed back, equally disgusted at the idea of sharing your space with him. 

“Contract’s signed.” Joshua shrugged, his eyes dancing with mirth as he watched the two of you glare daggers at one another. “Jeez. It’s like the air in here could kill or something.”

“I do not want to breathe the same air as him.” You stabbed a finger at Vernon.

“I hope you choke on it and die.” He punctuated the last word with fervor. 

“Ditto.” 

Joshua let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m starting to regret this. Were you guys always this...stabby?” 

“Yes.” Chan poked his head out from the green room. “Ever since they broke up they’ve been literal bitches. Whatever happened to hey, Chan, we’ll still be friends! This won’t break the friend group apart!” He frowned, disapprovement evident on his face. Time still hadn’t erased the betrayal he had felt when the two of you broke up, killing their friend group with suffocating silence. 

“Whatever.” Vernon muttered, turning away, shoving his in-ears back into his ears. “Stay away from me.” 

“With the utmost pleasure.” 

[crowsofdarkness]

Solace-One Shot

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: roughly 3K

Warnings: language with a smidge of angst.

Summary: When the past comes knocking, will reader give up her perfect, quiet life to be with the one man she vowed never to speak with again?

*originally posted on my old blog*

The sound of rain slapping against large, glass windows, eased my body and consciousness deeper into sleep. My soft snores echoed in tangent with the rain and I could feel my body sink further into the mattress, the last day falling away around me. It hadn’t been an exciting day, just spent working in the garden and working on my art; the same thing I had done so much of the last handful of years. It may not have been exciting to some but to me, it was my own solace. 

To be honest, the world past the treeline of my back yard scared me, even after all this time. I thought I had adjusted well but every time I went out into public for whatever reason, I was proven wrong. 

I never found myself complaining, however, with everything I had gone through and seen, I ended up retreating to this small cottage in the middle of nowhere Washington, away from civilization that scared me. Washington had no meaning to me, the farther I got away from him the better. I hadn’t seen him in over six years so I knew that I might have been over reacting in how far I tried to get away but I could never be too safe in something like this. 

Even if I hadn't seen him in so long, that didn’t stop the news or rumors of him finding its way to me. I never believed it, though. I knew who he was, truly. This life I had been living, we used to talk about how it would be for the both of us. Building our home together on a large piece of land with either the mountains or a lake in the backyard, somewhere for our kids to grow up in and us to grow old in. 

But with how things ended between us, I opted in creating this future without him. 

My body turned to the other end of the bed, the rain sounding behind me however with the knocking that echoed from the front door drained out the rain. It was a quiet but familiar knock. 

Our knock. 

Three raps against the wood then one solo knock followed by two more. 

My eyes snapped open, the drowsiness from sleep evaporating as I sat up in bed, gazing to the dark hallway outside of my bedroom door. All I could hear now was the rain until the knock sounded once more, this time a bit more persistent. 

“No way,” I muttered while letting my feet guide me towards my front door. 

It couldn’t be him. There was no way he could have found me, I made sure to cover my tracks when I moved out here. 

My eyebrows raised up in confusion when I looked out of the little peep hole, seeing nothing but darkness. 

Maybe I dreamed it?

I turned to head back to bed but when the same knock blasted behind me, I swiftly opened the door only to be met with more darkness. 

“This isn’t funny!,” I yelled. “You’re fucking with the wrong person.” 

The knife I had snatched from the table next to the front door clenched tightly in my hand. 

“Y/N.” 

Out of the darkness emerged the man that had been taking over my dream tonight, only this time he was in front of me, in the flesh, looking very different from the last time I had seen him. 

Long hair slicked back, a thick beard covering his face, and his once patriotic and noticeable suit was now worn down and almost dark, matching the way his eyes looked. 

They used to be so bright, full of life and love. But now, they were almost unrecognizable. 

“St-steve?” I stammered, stumbling away from him. 

A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “Hey doll.” 

My head shook, still not believing that he was in front of me. “Wha-what are you-how did you find me-what happened-is that blood?” 

A million questions ran through my mind and I didn’t know which one to ask first

I pointed to a wet spot on his suit, blood seeping through from what I was guessing a wound on his thigh; the large tear in his suit also gave me the answer I was looking for. 

Steve glanced down at it before a sigh fell through his lips. “I’m okay.” 

Our eyes locked and suddenly I felt myself become filled with rage. I hadn't seen Steve in so long that this is how he showed up on my doorstep? In the middle of the night and what looks like fresh off of a fight? 

 “How in the hell did you find me?” 

His lips parted to speak but a red head came bounding up the stairs towards us. The porch light casted over her face and even if I never met her before, I knew exactly who she was. 

“That actually was me. It took me some time, you really took yourself off of the map.” 

I raised a brow at her. “For good reason. You’re with him?” 

She nodded. “Natasha Romanoff.” 

It was my turn to nod, my suspicion of who she was proved right. 

“Y/N, we need your help.” 

Steve reached for me and I snatched my hand away, eyes sliced into him. 

“You disappear on me for years, after everything we had gone through together, and have the fucking balls to show up here asking for a favor?” I seethed. 

“We told him it was a bad idea to come here but he wouldn’t listen.” 

Another figure emerged from the darkness up my steps and I groaned in annoyance. 

“How many people did you bring to my house, Rogers?” I asked. 

“I’m Sam, Sam Wilson.” He nodded an introduction. “I’m sure Steve would be the first to tell you that we wouldn’t be here if we didn’t actually need your help.” 

I took in all three of their appearances and noticed exactly how tired they were. I wasn’t sure what the three of them had gotten themselves into but did know that whatever they were running from was important enough to come here. 

With a hesitant nod, I opened the front door allowing the three bodies to quickly slip inside. Knife still clenched in my hand, I did a quick once over of my wrap around porch to make sure that no one had followed them. Once it was clear, I slipped back inside my house and locked the door behind me. 

“So you're wanted for treason because you guys didn’t sign some kind of accords to stop you from fighting? ” I asked Natasha. 

“It’s complicated, I know. But we really do appreciate you taking us in. We won't be here long, I’m sure.” 

We were sitting at my kitchen island, two cups of coffee placed in front of us, and I glanced over to my living room where Sam and Steve were quietly talking amongst themselves; most likely their next plan. 

Steve had his back to me and in the way his shoulders tensed, whatever they had been running from had kept them on the run for awhile. 

“How long have you guys been on the run?” I asked Natasha, looking back at her. 

Her shoulders dropped. “A long time.” 

“Well, feel free to stay as long as you guys need.” I gave her hand a comforting squeeze. 

The relief that washed over her face was immediately recognizable. “I don’t know what happened between you and Steve but I do know that this was the last place he wanted to hide out.” 

“Yeah, well I’m sure he was thrilled to come here,” I spoke with sarcasm.

Natasha raised a brow. “What exactly happened between the two of you?”  

Clearing my throat, I stood from the counter and motioned behind me. “There’s a guest room down the hall next to the bathroom that I’m sure Natasha will want.” 

She smiled a thanks before nodding. 

“Uh, are you two okay with the couches?” I asked more towards Sam. 

He nodded. “Better than what we’ve been sleeping on.” 

Steve refused to meet my gaze, keeping it trained hard on his boots, so I took it as a sign to retreat back to my room. 

“Help yourself to whatever you’d like. There’s extra towels in the hall closet if you guys want to take a shower.” 

Sam and Natasha said their thanks and without another look towards Steve, I slipped back into my bedroom, the door open ajar. 

Shaky hands ran through my hair as I began pacing my room, sputtering words falling from my lips. 

“Why is he here? I’ve done so well without him,” I muttered to myself. 

I could feel my heart hammer hard in my chest and it echoed loud in my ears when I thought of Steve, sitting in my living room; a sight I never thought I would see. My feet dragged over towards the desk in my room and I pulled out an old leather bound book. It was filled with my own thoughts and some pictures, the specific one I was looking for almost slipping away. 

The edges were frayed and the color was faded but the smiles in the picture were still there, bright as the day it was taking, almost a hundred years ago. 

Steve’s small arms wrapped around my shoulder, pulling me close. My hand squeezing the other man's face, the laughter from that day was still fresh in my mind. 

I traced a finger over the other man's face, a quiet sob echoing through the room. 

“I’m sorry, Bucky.” 

This picture was taken before Steve became the soldier he was now, back when everything was easier. The three of us grew up together since elementary school and Bucky and I became close as we reached high school. Everyone said we were the perfect couple and I thought so too until I thought I had lost him. 

The night Steve had come to tell me that Bucky was gone was one of the hardest nights I had gone through; the night Steve left me behind was a close second. 

I loved Bucky, still do to this day, and will always love him. 

Guilt pulled at my heart because as much as I loved Bucky, I don’t think I could ever love him more than him. 

Steve. 

With a soft sigh, I placed the book back into the drawer of my desk and slipped underneath the covers of my bed, which had gone cold. I forced my eyes closed, hoping that the past wouldn’t resurface, however no matter how hard I kept them away, they slipped back. Loud, angry voices, bouncing around my head. 

Bucky’s alive but he’s not the same as you remember. You can’t go after him” 

Screw you, Rogers! You can’t keep him from me. 

Doll, I swear it’s not a good time for you to see him. He won’t remember you.” 

Is this part of your plan? Keeping us apart because we’re sleeping together?

With a loud groan, I turned over in bed, facing the doorway, and I found myself wondering what Steve was doing right now. 

I love you, Steve. 

I love you too, Y/N. But I have to do this. It’s the only way to keep you safe. 

Throwing the blankets off of me in an instant, I tugged on a sweater and quietly slipped out of my bedroom and back door, sleep being foreign now. Thankfully I was able to go unnoticed by the voices coming from the living room. 

The cold breeze blew past me, wrapping around my bare ankles, as I sat on the back step, allowing the sounds of the rain to ease my racing mind. 

“You always found the sound of the rain comforting.”

My heart hammered against the cage in my chest as I watched Steve lean against the post, arms crossed over his chest. 

I nodded. “Do you guys need anything?” 

Steve shook his head. “Sam and Natasha are already asleep.” 

“You can't?” I asked. 

“We’ve been on the run so long that my body is used to being on guard,” he confessed. 

I started chipping away at the polish on my fingers, nerves wrecking my body. This was the first time in so long that Steve and I were alone and there was the unsure of if he had still felt the same. 

I did, there wasn’t any doubt about it. 

“Has he reached out?” Steve asked, treading lightly on the conversation. 

I nodded. “He called me a few weeks ago to check in. He’s doing really well where he’s at. The young girl is helping him get his memories back.” 

It was Steve’s turn to nod. “Shuri, she’s taking good care of him.” 

Silence fell between us and I looked up to the sky, the large moon casting a glow over the skin of my face; Steve’s as well. 

I didn’t want to admit it out loud but he looked absolutely breathtaking, especially with the long hair and beard. 

“Does he know-?” Steve trailed off. 

“About us?” I finally looked into his eyes.

When Steve nodded, I continued with a sigh. “Yeah but if I’m being honest, it’s been so long since Bucky and I were together that the love we shared isn’t the same as it used to be. We both agreed that although we love each other, we both needed to move on.”

He pulled his sweater closer to his chest, the sudden breeze causing us both to shiver. 

“What about me?” 

I was on my feet quickly as I walked back towards my house, not wanting to have this conversation with him. 

“I’m not doing this, Steve,” I informed while walking past him. 

“Doll, please,” He reached for me. 

“Don’t,” I seethed while pulling my hand away. “You lost the right to call me that when you left me behind.” ‘

“I didn’t have a choice, Y/N. It was the only way to keep you safe,” Steve defended. 

“I told you that I loved you that morning and that evening you were gone! If you never loved me all you had to do was say that.” I spat. 

Steve ran a hand over his face with a loud sigh. “I did love you, sweetheart. I did it for you; for us.” 

“You left me behind, Steve! When I needed you the most, you packed up and left! Who does that to someone they love, after everything we have been through!” 

My screams could be heard miles away and there wasn't a doubt in my mind that Sam and Natasha had awoken, probably wondering what Steve and I had been fighting about. 

“I was with you on that plane when you took it into the water, or did you forget?!” 

Steve’s face twisted with sorrow. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that day, Y/N. I blame myself every day that I allowed you to be on the ship. I thought I could have kept you safe.” 

Tears pooled at the corners of my eyes. “We both went to sleep together that day, in the ice. We both woke up together, seventy years later. But you weren’t the only one that had to adjust!” 

“I know, I should have been there for you,” Steve stepped towards me. 

I stepped back from him. “The second you left, Fury took me under his wing, trained me to be his next assassin, something that I never wanted for my life. You didn’t want it for me either. But I didn’t have a choice. I needed to survive somehow!” 

Steve parted his lips to speak but I continued to rant on, everything I had bottled up all these years finally spewing from my mouth. 

“I was in this new world where nothing made sense so Fury used that to his advantage. I did things I’m not proud of and it gives me nightmares to this day which is why I had to get away. I needed to get far away from that life.” 

“I’m sorry,” Steve apologized. 

It went in one ear and right out the other. 

“Why now? Why did you decide now to come back into my life? I was finally getting over you, settling into a life that wasn’t filled with death or heartbreak. Then you came back, looking like this, and it brought everything back,” I sobbed while motioning to his new look.

Steve inched closer to me. “We needed a safe space and I knew that Fury had some place set up for you where no one can find you.” 

“So you only came to hide out, then what? Plan to make me love you again, fall into my bed, then leave before the sun comes up?” I accused with a hard gaze. 

“That was never going to happen,” He reassured me. “I knew that if I were to come back to you that I would need to do whatever it took to make it up to you.” 

I sucked in my lip. “Do you still love me?” 

The question burned deep in my stomach, spewing out like vomit in wanting to know the answer. 

“Never stopped.” 

Steve didn’t hesitate his answer for a second. 

The dormant butterflies sparked, their wings fluttering in my stomach slightly. 

“Do you still love me?” Steve asked. 

Before, I wanted to avoid this question with every fiber in my being because I never knew how Steve felt so now that I had his answer, I knew what to say. 

“Never stopped.” I repeated his own words. 

We shared a small smile but I held up my hand to stop Steve, who wanted to take a step towards me. Even though we admitted that we still loved one another and no matter how many times he apologized, I don’t think I was ready to forgive Steve. 

Yet. 

My bottom lip trembled as I let out a shaky breath. “You guys don’t have to rush out of here. Stay as long as you need. To be honest, the company will be nice. And maybe we can talk more about our future.” 

“I’d like that,” Steve admitted, his voice breaking. 

Giving Steve a final smile, I made my way back towards my bedroom, silently hoping that I wasn’t going to regret letting him not only into my home but back into my life.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

YOU GUYS WOULD TELL ME IF I WAS ONE OF THOSE ARTISTS WHOSE ARTSTYLE DOWNGRADED, RIGHT????

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Poly!141 x fem!Reader

TW: sexual content ahead, choo choo

Part 1

“Wake up, love.” A groan left your lips and you flipped over, burying your face further into the fluffy pillow beneath your head. “Five more minutes.” The dark chuckle behind you betrayed that it was John who was trying to wake you up. He rounded the four-poster, and you cracked an eye open, glancing at him “Do I really have to carry you downstairs?” Your lips twitched, and John immediately knew your answer. With a slight huff, he picked you up and carried you downstairs. He plopped down on the couch with you in his lap, as you cuddled up against him, your eyes closed again.

“Look at her, I think we tired her out too much last night.” Johnny chuckled, gently scratching your scalp and running his fingers through your hair. A pleased hum left your throat as you leaned into his touch. “Yeah, you hurting, pretty?” Kyle sounded concerned and you quickly felt his body heat behind you. “’ M fine.” The Sergeant chuckled, kissing your head, before standing up and walking away.

“Okay, time for breakfast, huh?” Your eyes shot open immediately and you glared at Simon, who stood next to the gigantic Christmas tree you had forced the boys to buy and put up. “No! You promised that we would open the gifts first thing if…if…” Simon grinned, his eyebrows raised as you began to grow bashful. “If what, love?” Your lower lip jutted out as you pouted. “If I were a good girl and took a few more…orgasms.” John chuckled behind you. “Look who’s awake now. Don’t tease her, Si. Let’s open the presents.”

And with that, the present marathon began. The guys got presents for each other and opened them one by one, thanking each other. They were usual guy gifts - alcohol, cigars, socks, etc. Things the others could use, but nothing overwhelming. By the time they were done, you had finally woken up enough to point to the presents you had gotten each of them.

Johnny was the first to unwrap his. It was an expensive sketchbook and art set he had been eyeing for some time, but never decided to buy. “Aw, bonnie. Thank you, I appreciate it.” You grinned. “Open it.” With a slight frown, he did as you told him to, his eyes widening as he saw what was decorating the front page. It was a beautiful portrait of the two of you. You had gotten his favorite indie artist to draw it for you and he even signed it. “No way!” With a giant grin, he jumped to his feet. “How did ya- no, when did ya-?” He jumped over the table that was separating him from you, not waiting for an answer. “You are amazing.” Still grinning, he bent down and pressed his lips to yours, keeping it chaste for the moment.

After Johnny pulled back, Simon reached for his present and ripped the wrapping paper off. He eyed the box for a few seconds, suspicious of its content, but finally opened it once you insisted that it was fine. To his surprise, he pulled out an old-looking camera, his eyes immediately jumping to yours the moment he realized what he was holding. “Where did you find this?” You shrugged, still wrapped in John’s arms. “Did some research. Is it the right one?” Still looking dumbfounded, he nodded. “Y-Yeah. It’s uhm…it’s the right one. Thank you.” You smiled at him, thinking back to when he opened up to you about his hobby when he was a child, how his mother had bought him a second-hand camera just so he could find some joy in life. You spent months trying to find the same model and make, and when you did find it, you knew it was the perfect present. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t realize Simon was standing right in front of you until you felt his lips against your forehead. “Thank you, love.” A smile formed on your lips as you gazed up at him. “Of course, Si.”

Kyle was next and he made quick work of the wrapping paper, just like Simon. He grinned the moment he realized what it was and skipped over, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Thank you, sweets.” It was a quiet mumble against your lips before he kissed you again and pulled away. Johnny immediately grew curious, trying to see what you had gifted to Kyle, but the Seargent quickly pulled away, hiding the present. You giggled as you watched Johnny chase Kyle around until the left the living room, both of them yelling at each other. Simon glanced at you, a slight frown on his face. “Do we want to know?” Still giggling, you shook your head, thinking about the different colored yarn balls and crocheting needles. He had confided in you not too long ago that he wanted to try it, but was too shy around the others. You just hoped that he would see the encouragement and take it up.

“What about me?” John gently squeezed the fat on your hips, gathering your attention. “Oh.” You pointed at a small, beautifully wrapped box and Simon handed it to you. With his free hand, he took it, turning it over as if trying to guess what it was. “Just open it.” With a dark chuckle, he did, quickly shredding the paper and frowning as he saw that it was a watch box. But when he opened it, the frown disappeared and his eyes widened. “Where did you find this?”

A few months ago, during an op, his watch broke. Usually, that wouldn’t be all too bad, better the watch, that can be replaced, than his hand or wrist. But the watch was ancient, vintage as he called it and it meant a lot to him. He didn’t act like it, but it broke his heart whenever he looked at it, hidden away in the top drawer of his desk. And it broke your heart. So, together with Simon, you scoured all different kinds of jewelry stores and online until you found the exact same model, working and in good condition.

John closed the lid of the box and pulled you even closer against himself. "Thank you." His voice was barely above a whisper as he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was gentle at first, his lips moving slowly against yours as his hand came up to cup your cheek. You melted into him, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as the kiss deepened. But before it could go too far, Johnny and Kyle came barreling back into the room. “I want a hat.” The Scot was grinning at the other male. “I’m not making you a hat.” Kyle shook his head, but the grin on his face betrayed him. You and John pulled apart, him looking annoyed while you just chuckled at the familiar antics.

“Oh? You guys done?” Simon nodded as Johnny and Kyle sat down again, a smirk growing on their lips. “So, now it’s time for her presents?” And oh, there were presents. From lingerie and jewelry to plane tickets for your dream vacation. By the time you had unwrapped and opened all of them, Simon and Johnny had disappeared into the kitchen to make breakfast. “You guys are crazy. That’s way too much!” John shook his head, squeezing you tighter against him. “Nonsense. You deserve so much more.” Kyle interrupted the Captain. “And some of this may be compensation for having to put up with Johnny.” Immediately, Scottish curses sounded from the kitchen, making you chuckle.

“Thank you, guys. I love you. All of you.” John pressed a kiss to your cheeks, Kyle matching it on the other side, before both of them pulled away, making eye contact. “There is actually one more gift, wait here.” Price shifted you from his lap and sat you down on the couch, before he and Kyle disappeared, closely followed by Simon and Johnny who left the kitchen and followed the other two soldiers. You were curious but decided to be a good girl and wait patiently. While doing so, you glanced over all of your presents again, a font smile tugging on your lips. You really loved these idiots.

Someone clearing their throat pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked up, finding the four soldiers standing in front of you, naked, safe for a pretty bow wrapped around each of their cocks. “Ready for your final present, love?” They all grinned at you and you couldn’t help but grin back. Hell yes, you were ready!

A/N: If you're seeing this, it means I can finally upload again! Yay! Idk why but Tumblr wouldn't let me upload the last few days, no matter what I tried it didn't work. But whenever this goes up, I hope I can go back to my normal schedule! Love you guys!

[lynaferns]

Redraw (well, third attempt) of an old drawing from 2022.

Alright, this is a big one, so, PC users: left click the image, right click the image, open in another tab, zoom and see all the details you want.

Phone users: press down on the image, download, find image in your phone gallery, it will download at full quality so you can zoom and see all the details.

The fancy stars and the inside of the piano were a pain in the ass, everything else went pretty smoothly, or at least the average complications. I'm proud of how I mixed the colors in the piano. I was convinced I'd end up making a mess but it turned out nice.

Once again, this is finished because I decided so. I have no energy to make the final look I had in mind.

The piano alone, close ups (cuz the jpeg won't let you zoom at the very max and that sucks, so I screenshot from my art program) and an idea for an AU + youtube playlist I made that I relate too much to the AU under the cut. vvv

SO!

This was never supposed to be an AU, and I probably won't do anything regardless, but I got the idea while I was working on it last month. And since I have a liiiiiiittle basic knowledge of music and experience, specially in piano... well...

I had bad experiences learning music as a child so probably the story would reflect on that lol.

An old astral auditorium that's abandoned and in ruins during the day and gets all shiny and nice at night when it's illuminated by the light of the stars.

Sun, Moon and Eclipse are in charge of the place, they do their best at keeping the place standing… and are the main musicians that play for the stars every month, once or twice. The day and night transformation affects them too.

Violet (y/n that's not really a y/n at this point) is a young altruist and selftaugth violinist (yeah yeah, I'm very original with the names, hush) that came across this old auditorium. She starts visiting the brothers to play music during the day and decides to join them in the auditions to play for the stars, and help them modernize a little bit to attract human audience too.

The brothers play several instruments to be able to acompany each other if necesary buuut they each have a "favourite". Sun mainly Piano, Moon mainly Harp (can also play piano and viola to accompany Sun) and Eclipse can play any instrument Sun and Moon can and more, but likes accordion :)

Sun is the most strict one when it's about playing music even though he likes to mess around with songs and improvise during day hours when no body is around, but will feel guilty afterwards... Moon is a gremlin that likes messing up and playing with the instruments in ways you are not supposed to (like using the viola bow as a sword). Eclipse is easy going and will match the energy of their brothers while keeping them out of trouble. Clip doesn't really like playing for the auditorium and prefers improvising silly songs alone or with Sun and Moon.

You can ask me about this AU if it got you curious, I'll be glad to answer!

I still want to make the MC design at least. And maybe some sketch comics if I have the energy for it.

[baby-yongbok]

𝘗𝘪𝘯𝘬 + 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦

Hwang Hyunjin 𝗑 Afab!Reader

♡ Genre - Friends to Lovers

♡ CW - Explicit Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Nightmares, Alcohol usage by reader, Hyunjin calls reader rose as a nickname, One use of 'y/n'.

♡ Summary - Your avoidant tendencies have allowed the burn of pink and white to keep you Hyunjin at a safe distance until it all comes crashing down. Can the fire that kept you apart also be what brings you together?

♡ Word Count - 9.2k

♡ A/N - I went from not being sure if I liked this fic to being in love with it. I think that it's a very sweet fic and I loved writing it. I worked so hard on it and I'm so proud of it. The goal was for it to be 4k words.. then I almost posted it at 8k but now... yeah. I hope that you love this as much as I do!

♡ Playlist - Pink + White - Frank Ocean, Rainy Days - V, For Us - V, Beautiful Things - Benson Boone, Trajectories - Bruno Major

✧ Masterlist ✧

When you were six years old you punched a boy in the face on the playground. That was the first time that you ever felt the burn of genuine fear.

Your mom along with the many others came swirling around them. When your mother asked you what happened you cried. You clung to her running over to you and the crying brunette boy on the playground with a mix of emotions and explained the best you could through your tears that you didn’t like that he was chasing you, when you agreed to play tag you thought that you’d be the chaser not the one being chased.

That was the day that you learned two things about yourself, you have a habit of acting impulsively when you’re scared and you don’t like being chased. It's suffocating.

As you got older your friends described you as the avoidant type, especially in relationships. You developed a reputation for being an ice queen in your Sophomore year of university which led to you being one of the most sought after girls on campus. 

You’ve lost friends because of this. Their boyfriends saw getting close to them as a gateway to meeting you. Many guys took dating you as a challenge with an end prize of overnight popularity. Unfortunately, some of your closest relationships have been destroyed because of it. You learned not to be sad about it, you’ve come to terms with it, this is just the way that it goes. Of course your other friends were all important to you but you always told yourself that you’re alright with losing them as long as you have your best friend by your side. 

“More roses? Are you in love or something?” You weaved through the cluttered art studio that Hyunjin has claimed as his own. It’s on the dead side of campus on the second floor of a building that was abandoned last year. Your best friend refused to let the studio go when it was shut down, he says that it houses some of his fondest memories. 

“Always in love, never loved back.” He quips, eyes still trained on the canvas. “You’re early.”

You jump up onto one of the few clear desks in the room, right behind his easel. “Chemistry ended early.” Hyunjin stands straight, eyeing his canvas for a second before looking over at you. He knows that you’re skipping class. Your last hook-up is in that class and you're trying to avoid his attempt at getting you in his bed again. If you’re being honest, the decision to sleep with him was impulsive. You blame the beer, all eight of them.

“I thought that we could go to the exhibition early.” He starts another brush stroke and silence swallows you both. “I’m excited about it and if I’m being honest I just wanna spend time with you. I’ve barely seen you for the past three days.”

Hyunjin’s steady hand wavers and he thanks his lucky stars that you didn’t see it. “Aw she misses me. She loves me so much.” The sound of your feet hitting the ground as you jump off of the desk echoes through the dusty room of stacked chairs and forgotten storage items. 

Hyunjin stands and dips the paint brush covered in bright pink in the cup of water next to him. “You could’ve come to my place ya know.” You grab your stuff, swinging your bag onto your shoulder. 

“Your brother is there, you know how he gets.” You scrunch your face at the thought of Hyunjin’s step brother, Jeongin. The two of you get along perfectly, almost as well as you and Hyunjin until Jeongin starts flirting. He confessed to you on New Years and you’ve been avoiding him ever since. He’s too sweet for you, you’d hate to hurt him. “I’m gonna go change, I’ll meet you by your car.”

“You brought a costume change for an art exhibit?” He asks as he starts cleaning his space.

“Of course, I need to look like art too.” You smile at him but he doesn’t smile back, he rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the mess of paints and rags on the desk in front of him. He waits until he hears the door open and close behind you to finally let the corners of his mouth turn up. He chuckles to himself quietly while his mind comes up with responses that he’d never dare to utter out loud.

“This one looks like you, rose.” The year old nickname slips off of Hyunjin’s tongue like silk. You’ve never fully understood how the name stuck. You figured that it’s because roses are his favorite flower and he thought it was cute. You’ve never asked for its origin but you don’t mind the name. It’s sweet.

You turn to view the series of pink, white and green dots making up a bouquet of roses on the framed canvas in front of Hyunjin. He studies it with smiling eyes though the neutral look on his face could fool those who haven’t experienced him like you have.

“It’s pretty.” You mumble as you lean your head on his shoulder. You wrap your arm around his and the sleeve of the brown oversized flannel shirt that you picked out a year ago rides up his forearm a bit, he blames the chills running up his spine on the breeze against the newly exposed skin. 

“I knew I’d see you here.” The voice of a woman next to Hyunjin startles you a bit. You stand straight and watch as Hyunjin smiles towards her. He’s cursing her in his head for interrupting the moment between the two of you but he learned a long time ago to just live in the moment when it comes to you.

“Of course, I had to see this exhibition.” He shakes her hand and you chalk it up to her being someone important though she doesn’t look much older than either of you. “You put it together beautifully.”

Ah, she owns the gallery. “Oh, please, it’s nothing. I just hope that you’re enjoying it. I actually thought about you when I put this piece up.” She motions towards the art in front of the two of you. The piece that Hyunjin says resembles you. “It looks like something you’d design. I’m still desperate to organize a local exhibition for you, ya know.”

Hyunjin laughs but it's stiff and polite. He’s being shy. He’s a very cautious person but he reaches a whole new level when it comes to his art. “I’m not quite on that level yet.”

“I disagree but I won’t bother you about it until you graduate. This is your final semester, right?” You can see her eyes smiling just like Hyunjin’s were a second ago as she checks him out. She’s shameless in her actions, the glint in her eyes is far from professional. 

“Yes, just three months to go.” She nods, dragging her gaze up from his lips with a smile. 

“Call me when you graduate, I’d love to have you working with us.” She pulls a business card out of her pocket and flashes one last smile before waving a reluctant goodbye towards your best friend. 

Silence settles between the two of you for just a couple of seconds before you break it. “She wants to fuck you so badly that she didn’t even look at me.” Hyunjin scoffs at your whispered words as he slips the card into his pocket. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t notice. How old is she anyway? She looks a bit young to be in charge of this place.”

“Her father owns it.” He mumbles as he grabs your wrist and leads you over to the next piece of art. 

“Oh, of course. She probably thought I was your girlfriend, ya know. She’s rude as hell for not even asking or looking at me. I know she saw me here, she’s clearly -” You’re pulled into Hyunjin’s side before you can finish your sentence. The sudden action cuts you off with a heavy thump of your heart and that painfully familiar burn rising in your chest. 

“Look at this one.” Your eyes are on him but his are on the art. “This one looks like you too.” You pull your gaze away from him to view the piece. The thumping in your chest doubles once your gaze meets your own. It’s a mirror with pink and white abstract designs floating around and over the glass. The paint is so messy yet strategic. It leaves just enough room for your reflection. 

“It’s messy yet elegant, don’t you think? You can’t help but to stare..” He’s visibly smiling now. The corners of his mouth turn up as he studies the art in front of him. As he studies you. “This one might be my favorite. It’ll be hard to beat it.”

“I don’t like it.” You mutter quickly, pulling away from Hyunjin and turning towards the next piece. You try your best to steady your breathing. You will your heart to calm down so that you can take a complete breath but it’s betraying you. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.” 

You’re walking away before Hyunjin can reply. He watches you with that smile in his eyes as you disappear around the corner. He knew that what he pulled would be a risk but it was one that he was willing to take. He doesn’t call you beautiful nearly as much as he should or as much as he really wants to. 

In the bathroom you’re slumped against the door of a stall while you try to catch your breath. You don’t like how Hyunjin’s words made that white hot burn in your chest kick up. You don’t like the way that his eyes being on you made you feel like you were the only two in the entire gallery. It’s suffocating. 

When you step out of the stall your fingers are busy on your phone screen. You find your friend Isa’s number quickly and take a sigh of relief when she answers on the third ring. You bypass reciprocating her kind greeting and get right to the point. 

“Get-together at yours tomorrow?”

You’re standing in the middle of the Pink and White art exhibition. Other viewers jumble together along the walls of the gallery and crowd the pieces. You can’t see anything but their blurred faces decorating the white walls. There’s a slow yet heavy beating in your ears but you’re comfortable. You’re alone in the middle of it all, watching everyone from a pleasant distance as you turn to study them all as if they’re the art on the walls.

 The beating in your ears skips as you turn and come face to face with Hyunjin. He’s standing in front of you wearing that brown hat that you love and the oversized flannel that he bought just to share with you.

 Suddenly the others in the room are quiet. All eyes are on you but Hyunjin’s gaze is the most piercing. His brown eyes are smiling at you with a softness that makes the flame in your chest burn brighter. 

“Why are you staring at me like that?” You look around at everyone else but they’ve vanished along with the art on the walls. The beating in your ears picks up, it’s deafening but Hyunjin’s voice can be heard loud and clear over the noise.  

“I like staring at you.” He takes a step towards you but you take two back. He frowns and steps forward again. You repeat the process until your back is against the wall. “Why do you do that?” 

“I’m not doing anything.” You swallow hard as you try to push him away but he’s stronger than you. As strong as stone caging you against the stark white wall. “I can’t breathe.” You’re pushing as hard as you can but it’s no use. You’re stuck under him.

“Why do you do this?” He’s still staring down at you, a burning gaze setting your skin ablaze. “Why do you keep running?” The beating in your ears drowns out all sensible thoughts. You can feel your veins swelling with fear and the blinding white burning in your chest puffs up with the crushing pressure of having him so close. Too close. 

“Back up.” You inhale the thick air, feeling dizzy. “Move.”

“Stop running.” You try to inhale but it gets stuck in your throat. You want to scream. You need to escape. You need to get out of here. 

You lift your heavy arm the best you can and pull back enough to punch Hyunjin. You aim for his face but your fist goes through him just as your lungs start to burn, you take one last look at him before the wall behind you gives out and you’re falling backwards. Hyunjin watches you, his eyes are void of that sparkling smile and guilt consumes you right before you hit the ground.

You jump up with a gasp as your eyes frantically search the room around you. Your chest rises and falls heavily and sweat beads at your hairline.

It was a dream. 

Friday is a late day for you with your last class ending at nine in the evening. Hyunjin always waits for you in the abandoned art studio, he waits for two hours just to walk you to your dorm across campus. It’s become a routine for the two of you but you told him not to wait up tonight. He was reluctant at first, he insisted on waiting for you but you were adamant about breaking your routine.

He agreed eventually but you could see the dejection in his eyes as he hugged you goodbye before your last class. He watched you walk away just like he always did but this time his heart was heavy in his chest. Did he do something wrong? 

That question haunted him throughout the day. It was loud in his head as he collected his stuff and made his way to the abandoned studio. It echoed in his ears as he tried to finish the painting of his vibrant rose that he’s added notes of dusty pale pink to. But it was the loudest when Jeongin called him to ask if he was going to the get-together at Minho’s place tonight.

He knows that you and Minho’s girlfriend Isa are close so you have to know about this, hell, you might’ve even helped plan it and you kept it from him. You’re avoiding him.

You skipped your class to head to Minho and Isa’s place. They share a small apartment right off of campus that you often use as an escape. Isa is one of the few friends that you still have from sophomore year since her boyfriend has never once tried to get in your pants. 

You sat on Isa’s bed clutching a bottle of soju that is not at all meant for one person while you laid your head in her lap. You loved being with her because there was never any pressure to fill the silence. She understands you in a way that other people just don’t. Not even Hyunjin. 

“So, he called you pretty?” You’ve been telling her everything from what happened at the art gallery to the nightmare you had last night. “And now you’re avoiding him?”

“I’m not avoiding him.” You take a swig from the glass bottle and gulp hard to rush the alcohol into your system. “I’m just being careful.”

“You’re being careful by avoiding your best friend… because he called you pretty and you had a nightmare about it?” You sit up with a groan, lifting the bottle to your mouth again with a sigh. She’s not getting it. 

“You didn’t see the way he looked at me. You didn’t feel the way he pulled me into him, his arm wrapped around my waist and he just stared at me with that smile in his eyes. You know the one that makes his eyes shine when he sees something pretty? He was looking at me like that and he told me that I looked elegant. Messy but elegant and that he couldn’t help but to stare. There was a softness in his voice, I swear, and he just wouldn’t take his eyes off of me. It’s like he was looking into me instead of at me it was… it was..”

“Sweet?” You tap the bottle in your hands with your nails. 

“Suffocating. It was too much. It made my heart skip and it made me feel hot.” 

“That usually means that you like him, ya know.” She takes the bottle from you, drinking from it a bit herself. “ You know that he’s a romantic and this isn’t the first time you’ve felt like this with him.” She hands the cold glass back to you while you think back to the other times that you’ve felt this. The latest being your birthday three months ago when Hyunjin whisked you away to the next city for a mini getaway. 

You stayed in the same hotel room and on the night of your birthday you had a bit too much to drink. He carried you up to your room since you were too out of it to walk but you weren’t too far gone to forget the way that he handled you with such gentle care.

He brushed your hair out of your face when he laid you on your bed and took your make-up off with such a tender touch that it made you want to kiss him. You almost kissed him. 

“I don’t like him like that.” You shrug and she sighs. 

“Whatever you say, ice queen.” That damned nickname makes you cringe but Minho is bursting through the door before you can rebuttal. 

“Jisung and Bin just got here, come on.” You stare at him with confused eyes and he crosses his arms as he stares back at you. “Well? Get up, you wanted to do this.”

“Do what?” You look over at Isa who’s already getting up from the bed.

“Did you not call her asking for a get-together? People are getting here so come on. I’m not hosting this by myself.” Your heart drops and you stare over at Isa who looks back at you with her own look of confusion until it all sinks in.

 “You meant for it to be just us, didn’t you?”

Hyunjin is a cautious person, anyone who knows him knows that about him. He doesn’t like when things go wrong because of him. It eats him alive until he can fix it and if he can’t he lets the anxiety consume him until a part of him dies with the memory of it all. 

His cautious nature is what prompted him to drive home after he got that call from Jeongin. It brought him right to his bedroom where he dropped his bag by the foot of his bed and laid back against the mattress with a death stare set on the dull ceiling. It stared back at him, reflecting his thoughts back to him for him to analyze. 

His brother left for the get-together as soon as he walked through the door and Hyunjin was tempted to follow him down to Seungmin’s car.

He was tempted to drop his bag and turn on his heels and come straight to you but he knew better. He knew you better than you knew yourself. If he shows up at that get-together you’ll avoid him like the plague. You’ll feel trapped by his presence and any hope that he has of fixing this situation will die right in front of his eyes. 

His cautious nature is what’s keeping him on his bed. It’s what’s grounding him to this spot and sating the burning desire to chase you. The problem is that the fire in his chest is bigger than he can handle. He’s seen how you treat the men you want to avoid on campus, he’s seen you take the long way home just to avoid a conversation and the thought of you doing that to him makes him wilt. He can’t let that happen. 

His feet are carrying him across his room before he can even fully process it. He opens his closet and pulls out the brown flannel along with his brown beanie. They’ve become comfort items for the both of you at this point, especially the flannel. It feels like a thread connecting you to him and him to you. He needs to save that connection.

 He sloppily throws on the items while he checks the clock. He’s nearly two hours late but there’s still time. 

Hyunjin has never gotten a speeding ticket but he was nearly positive that he’d get one tonight. He made it to Minho’s place in record time but he’s panting when he knocks on the door like he’s ran there. His heart is hammering when Isa answers the door and the look on her face when she takes him in only makes his heart beat faster. 

She forces a smile, inviting him in and telling him where everything is but he already knows all of that and she knows that he does. “She doesn’t want to see me does she?” Isa sighs, giving him a look that answers each and every one of his questions all at once. 

“Thanks for letting me in.” He walks past her with a nervous huff, making his way into the small party and searching for you immediately. He finds Changbin and Chan before he can find you and the two quickly drag him into a conversation about gods know what while wedging a glass bottle of mystery liquid into his fist. 

Hyunjin’s eyes wander in an attempt to find you as he ignores his friends' conversation. Luckily it didn’t take long for the sound of your loud laughter to echo through the room. His eyes were on you in an instant once he heard it. You’re right in front of him sitting in the truth or dare circle with a can of something strong in your hand. You’re always the loudest in the room but right now you seem to be the drunkest too, you shouldn’t be playing that game you’ll do something reckless.  

He wants to go over and pull you up, he wants to tell you that you’re going home and that you need to sober up. He wants to get you to talk to him but he ignores everything he wants and watches you instead. He stays cautious and keeps his distance. 

“Y/n, truth or dare.” One of your few girl friends, Harvey asks from across the circle. You answer ‘dare’ with a wide smile, it’s no surprise, you always pick that. The raven haired girl looks over to Mingi for assistance since she’s known for picking terrible dares. After a couple seconds of deliberation the blonde perks up with an idea.

“I dare you to kiss whoever this bottle lands on.” Mingi dares with a nonchalant smile and you shrug, the alcohol in your system is surely boosting your confidence but it’s not like you’ll remember any of this tomorrow so who cares, right?

He spins the bottle in the middle of the circle and everyone watches with quiet anticipation as it lands on the copper haired boy sitting three people away from you. It’s Jeongin. 

He stops in the middle of sipping from his cup and flashes you a small innocent smile but what you return to him is nothing less than a look of raw seduction. You’re on your feet in an instant, making your way over to him with low and hazy eyes. You straddle him swiftly, getting comfortable in his lap like you’ve done this a hundred times. 

“You sure about this, noona?” His hands rest on your thighs, he brushes his thumbs over the bareskin and you can feel a shiver down your spine. It almost reminds you of how Hyunjin touched you on your birthday. 

“Do you not wanna kiss me?” You tease him with a slight slur to your voice. You know he wants to kiss you, everyone does except for Hyunjin, right? 

Just as that thought passes your eyes flicker up and meet those of the very man on your mind. He’s watching you with an angry gaze as he fists the neck of the glass bottle in his hand. Your mouth goes dry as you take him in, when did he get here? You feel stuck staring at him, everything around you is suddenly muted and the people around you disappear. It’s only you and Hyunjin.

Both of your hearts are pounding in your chest. 

Both of you feel like you can’t breathe. 

Both of you are about to do something that you shouldn’t.

“Kiss her already!” Ryujin instigates from across the circle and you snap out of your haze and blink down at Jeongin. You both share a smile, one more genuine than the other, before he’s leaning into you. His lips just barely brush against yours before you’re interrupted.

A firm grip on your shoulder startles you and the man under you. You both look up to meet the eyes of the angry Hyunjin above you.“Get up.” He practically growls with a slight tug on your arm. You stare up at him with glassy eyes though you are feeling a bit more sober now. “Get. Up.” 

You’re being pulled up before you can process it. Your feet fight to keep up with him as you stumble towards the bedroom he’s leading you to. You can feel all eyes on you, you can feel the room getting smaller once he locks the bedroom door behind the two of you and pulls his flannel off to drape over your shoulders, something that he does to comfort you. 

“What the fuck?” That’s all you can manage to get out of your mouth as you stare over at him. He stares back with his arms crossed and his chest rising and falling with what you perceive as anger but he would describe as anxiety. Pure fear. 

“Do you understand what you were about to do?” Hyunjin tries to be mindful of his tone. He tries to limit the waver of his words and calm the frantic thoughts in his head. He’s trying. “Why would you kiss him?”

“I didn’t.” The alcohol in your system takes over again and you thank the ridiculous amount of soju you’ve consumed for coming to the rescue. You tug on the flannel resting over your shoulders, pretending that its warmth would protect you from the buzzing in your head and inevitable burning in your chest.

“You would’ve if I didn’t stop you. What happened to you not being into Jeongin? What happened to you not wanting to hurt him?”

You groan, stomping your foot like a child being scolded by their guardian. Like the little girl who punched the brunette boy in the face for chasing her. “Why don’t you mind your business?”

Hyunjin scoffs, his anxiety grows in his chest and he takes a step back. “You are my business.” 

It’s silent for one, two, three heartbeats before the dizzying emotions burning in your chest fill in the silence for you. “Well maybe I shouldn’t be. You’re way too attached to me.”

Hyunjin feels frozen even though he’s stepping back from you. He’s creating more space between the two of you just like you seem to be doing. What do you mean by that? You’re rambling on before he can ask. “You do all of these things that make me feel like I can’t breathe. You call me pretty and you touch me softly and you hold me close and… and you just make me feel hot. You suffocate me.”

Hyunjin whispers through the bubbles forming in his throat. He’s gentle with the way he speaks, he is a cautious person after all, especially when it comes to his art. “Is this about what I said at the gallery?”

His question goes in one ear and right out the other. Your brain formulates words quicker than you can process them, creating a violent episode of word vomit that threatens to spill over your lips and onto the carpet but you swallow hard and condense it all into one simple yet seering sentence. “You keep making my heart race, it’s not fair. You need to go, just go.”

Hyunjin’s blood runs cold and his temples throb like you’ve hit him. Like you’ve punched him in the face. Anxiety bubbles in his veins and swells behind his eyes. It’s his turn to ramble, the word vomit seems to be contagious. 

“I’m not leaving.” His gaze is frantic, cautious, scared. “I am too attached, you’re right. I have been for a while. I’ve loved you for a while and I tried to hide it but I shouldn’t have to. I shouldn’t be scared that I’ll lose my best friend if I tell her that she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

 “No, you are not confessing to me right now. Don’t you dare do that.” You pace to the left then the right in a hurried attempt to escape his words before they could reach you. He can’t be doing this right now. You needed to get out of here.

“I am. I am confessing to you. I need you to hear me say that I love you because I do and it scares me just as much as it scares you but you are the reason that it’s scaring me. Losing you is the reason that I’m afraid and I need you to tell me that that isn’t going to happen.” His voice is shaky just like your hands. He watches you like a dog being dropped off at the pound as you physically try to escape him. He knew this would happen, this is what he was afraid of. 

“Stop. Just stop it, Hyunjin. You’re doing it again, I can’t breathe when you’re this close to me.” He stares over at you from the other side of the room and you stare back at him. This doesn’t make any sense. He isn’t next to you but you still can’t breathe. It doesn’t make any sense. “I have to go - I have - just… just leave me alone.” You turn towards the bedroom door but he speaks up before you can make your escape. 

“I’m not going to chase you.” Hyunjin is unmoving. His feet are still planted to the floor like a statue as he slips his fists into his pocket. “I don’t want to push you further away but don’t you dare go home and convince yourself that I don’t care just because I let you go.” 

You listen to him over your hammering heart with your back turned to him and your unsteady gaze trained on the worn door knob. “I’m letting you go with the hope that you’ll come back. You know where to find me.” 

Your feet threaten to betray you, they try to turn you around and drive you over to him but your heart is screaming. That white flame is burning in your chest and begging you to run. Run as fast as you can and find safety, but your safety is standing behind you. It’s watching you with teary eyes that are desperate to meet yours. 

A tear slips down your cheek as you grab the doorknob and pull it with a quick twist. You follow your heart and rush out of the room with tears decorating your face and your hand over your mouth. You let the burning win again.

You rush past everyone, Isa tries to stop you and Minho even catches you for a minute but you fight him off of you and make your way to the front door. You don’t get too far before the last layer of your resolve snaps, You turn onto the next dark block and sink to the ground. Sobs rip through you as Hyunjin’s words hang in your head. He loves you. He wants you but you left him. You left everything you’ve ever wanted behind you. 

A heavier sob escapes you as the truth of it all comes crashing down. You love him too, don’t you? You’ve loved him for so long. Since your birthday and beyond that but you’ve been avoiding it. You’ve avoided your feelings just like you have everything else. You’ve punched yourself in the face, you’ve chased yourself into a corner and now you might just lose everything you have left. You might lose your best friend.

The storms over the next two days swirl the skies into mysterious clouds of pink and white as rain soaks the grass the same way that you’ve soaked your pillow for hours. You’ve opted to stay in, avoiding anything or anyone that could remind you of Friday’s catastrophe.

 You’ve debated texting Jeongin and apologizing for what you remember of the situation. You almost called Isa to spill the fears bubbling in your lungs to her so that she could help you sort through them but she can’t. This is up to you. You need to make a choice. Will you run away from the fire or towards it? 

On the other side of campus Hyunjin sits in the abandoned studio with paint stained hands and dried tears on his cheeks. He’s left his previous painting incomplete. The bright blushing rose sits across the room with the others just like it while he touches his brush to the canvas and smears a smoky mauve to the pristine white flesh. His lines are messy and uncalculated. Far from cautious. 

For a moment he considers that he was only ever careful because of you. Your lack of control over your emotions inspired him to fill in the blanks for you. Now there’s no need for caution without you.

The rain carried into Monday along with the emptiness in your chest. You’ve typed and deleted paragraphs to Hyunjin who has done the same as he sat on the studio floor.

He stayed in the dusty room until midnight each day that he was without you and you stayed up well past then. He poured himself into painting and you poured yourself onto the carpet of your dorm room. You made lists and mapped your emotions until it all started to make a bit more sense. Until the love that burned alongside your hot white fear was glowing pink in the mirror. 

You skipped your classes on Monday, your feet drove you over to the dead side of campus through the violent rain. You stood in the hallway outside of Hyunjin’s studio. The worn copper doorknob stared back at you like it knew what you were here to do. Like it was daring you to go inside. You suck in a breath as you grab the metal, you’ve never been one to back down from a dare.

The studio is empty when you walk inside. The fading warm light of the lamps that you and Hyunjin bought and snuck in illuminate the space the best that they can given the dull pink skies. Your eyes catch on the new piece sitting up on his easel. It’s dark and runny, it’s raw and it feels like it’s calling your name. 

“Hi.” Hyunjin’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. His voice is small and surprised as he stares over at your frame clad in that famous brown flannel and sweatpants. 

“Hi.” You whisper back. He looks like a mess. Brown hat, pulled too far over his head and his hair spilling from every exit it can find. “More roses?” 

He stares passed you and over at the wilting petals on the canvas with a sad smile. “It’s like I’m in love or something.” 

Your guilt tinged heart beats a bit faster when he steps further into the room and closes the door behind him. He drops his bag next to the door and stares at the dinghy tile with his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry. For everything, for the party and everything with your brother and for everything that I said.” 

The word vomit is back. It spilled over your lips before you could attempt to swallow it back but you’re almost thankful for it. You have no clue how you’d get your words out otherwise. “You just made me feel… I just felt..” You kick at the cracked tile as if it holds the answers you’re looking for but Hyunjin beats you to it.

“Suffocated.” His eyes are on you now, they’re low and shadowed in a longing sadness. “I’ve seen this happen a million times to other guys and I thought that I was being careful enough to avoid it.” 

“This is nothing like the other guys.” Your bag slumps off of your shoulder and you carelessly allow it to hit the floor. “Your confession just -” He cuts you off with a tight smile.

 “I know. It ruined everything.” He sighs, sad eyes examining the space between the two of you. “I ruined everything and I’m sorry for that, rose. I really am.”

“It didn't. It didn’t ruin anything, it just scared me. I felt suffocated, yes, but not by you. It was by what I felt for you. That’s why this isn’t like what happened with any of the other guys. I never wanted them. Avoiding them was easy but you… avoiding you..” Hyunjin watches your heaving chest with the caution that he thought had abandoned him. He’s quiet, allowing you time to gather your thoughts. He doesn’t want to corner you, he just wants to hear you. 

“Why do you call me that?” You whisper once your breathing has steadied. “Why did you start calling me rose?”

Suddenly he’s looking past you then down at the tile under his feet. He leans against the door behind him, a faint smile decorating his sad face. “You were wearing one in your hair on the day that I realized I love you.” He looks over to where his easel is set up. “We were sitting right there and you had a pale pink rose behind your left ear. You picked me one to match and I told you that it was my favorite flower because in that moment it was. It was beautiful but you…your beauty is hard to beat.”

Your heart is thumping in your ears, it’s a sound that you’ve grown comfortable with over the past few days. The clutter of the abandoned room almost seems to disappear as you process his words. The burning in your chest makes itself known along with the newly identified pink flame. The white walls of the studio almost seem brighter as you receive Hyunjin’s confession. You let it sink in and drown out the tension little by little. “So when you paint them…”

“I’m painting you. I’m always painting you.” The thumping is deafening but Hyunjin is clear over the noise. He has always been the only one who can cut through it all, even in your dreams. 

You can feel yourself falling just like in your nightmare only it’s forwards. You’re falling forwards as your feet carry you to him. You run. You run to him and you fall into his arms that have been desperate to catch you for months. The burn in your chest is paralyzing, it’s seering and fighting the pink flame for dominance. 

You cry into his chest, you sob as the pain of running into the fire engulfs you. It swallows you whole and you stand in it with him, you cling to him before you burn to ash and he holds you like he knows it all. He cradles the back of your head like he can feel the fire ripping your flesh apart. 

You’re flush against him, tears soaking his shoulder and burning all over until he does what no one has done before. He puts it all out. A simple kiss to the top of your head dowses the flame and reduces it to a measly spark of fear overshadowed by an uncontainable pink and white glow of love in your chest. 

You gasp at the cooling effect. Air rushes into your lungs and you can finally breathe, he’s the oxygen you needed. He’s everything you’ve needed but now you want to give your air away again. You want to give it all to him. 

You pull away from his shoulder in one swift motion, your eyes are shut tight as your lips find his and you pull him into a hard and messy kiss. The sound that escapes you both is desperate and beautiful. His lips move with yours in an uncoordinated rhythm that makes your lungs burn comfortably. They burn the way that they’re supposed to. 

Hyunjin cries into the kiss. Tears stream down his cheeks as he cradles you against him like you’d vanish if he didn’t. He drinks it all in, he allows himself to live in this moment that he’s been dying to have with you for what feels like an eternity before he reluctantly breaks the kiss. 

His eyes are still closed when he pulls away. He whispers to you, careful not to crack the shell of this delicate moment. “I thought you -” 

“I don’t want to keep running. I can’t, I need you. I can’t lose you.” Your eyes flutter open at the same time as his. He stares down at you with that smile in his eyes. That smile he has when he sees something beautiful, when he’s utterly enamored by the sight before him. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to do any of this, I only know that I want to do it with you.”

He’s quiet for a couple of seconds before a smile sneaks up on him. It fades just as quickly as it came and his eyebrows pinch together. “You want me?” You nod and the smile shows itself again. 

“I want you.” He leans back in, cupping your cheek as he kisses you hard. His body pushes against yours and you move with him as he walks backwards towards one of the few empty desks and lifts you onto it. 

His hands explore every inch of you that he can reach. He balls his fist over the baggy flannel hiding your body from him while your fingers tangle in his hair and scratch over his shoulders and up his arms.

 He breaks the kiss to run his lips over the flushed flesh of your neck, he whispers into your skin between each kiss “Tell me to stop.” He pulls at the collar of the flannel to kiss the curve of your neck. “I’ve waited so long for this, please tell me to stop. Tell me to wait.”

You push his head further into the crook of your neck as you tilt your head further to give him better access. “I don’t want you to.” He sucks a mark into the skin right below your ear and you pull his tucked in shirt from his pants with an elated moan. 

His clumsy fingers fight to unbutton the oversized flannel as yours attempt to unbutton his jeans. You reach your goal before he does and waste no time capitalizing on your victory. You dip your hand in just enough to fish his growing erection from his briefs and wrap your hand around it. 

Hyunjin moans at the stimulation, leaning his forehead against yours and squeezing his eyes shut as you stroke him slowly. “Fuck, please don’t, I wont - I can’t last.”

 You kiss his temple softly, whispering reassurance that you don’t care to have him last, you just want to have him. Once he’s centered himself again he continues his struggle to expose your body to him. The final button falls open like the curtain to a play and he stares down your scantily clad torso like an audience in awe. 

His hand moves on its own as he admires you. It dips into the waistband of your sweatpants and swipes over your clothed clit.

 Your head falls forward to rest on his shoulder with a quiet moan as he groans into the air. Your grip on his cock tightens a bit in response to the sensation and he hisses. “Please tell me I can feel you. Is it okay? Can I?” 

He doesn't want your first time to be here but he wants you. He needs you. 

Hyunjin hooks a finger into the damp gusset of your panties and pulls it to the side just enough to slip a finger into your waiting cunt. You pant in his ear, wanton moans bubble over the brim of your lips as his free hand cradles the side of your neck. “Look at me, please look at me, baby.”

 He runs his thumb over your cheek, brushing over the path of your dried tears. “So pretty, this must be a dream.” You shake your head. Speaking between moans. “Not a dream, baby.”

 He slips in another finger as you circle your palm over the head of his cock and you both moan. “Please tell me I can.” He leans his forehead against yours, his desperate eyes reflect the look in your own.

“You can. Please, I want you to.” 

“Have you ever thought about it?” He’s asking before he can process it and you’re shaking your head before he can even finish his sentence. A shy glaze washes over your desperate gaze as you watch him undress you.

 “You’re all I ever think about.” He whispers as he hooks his thumbs into the band of your pants. “You’re all I’ve wanted for the past year.” 

“I’ve loved you since my birthday.” You blurt out, vulnerable eyes peering into his. “Maybe even before that.” He runs a finger over your clothed cunt and you shudder under the touch.

“I wanted to kiss you the night of your birthday. You looked so beautiful but you were wasted. You wouldn’t have remembered. I just stared at you, I took your make-up off and I brushed the hair from your face and you stared back at me. I was just dying to kiss you. I was dying to confess.” Your hand runs slowly up his shaft and he swears that he feels electric. 

“I wanted to kiss you too.” He’s quiet, staring back at you with a smile. “That’s why I was staring”

“I kissed your forehead when you fell asleep.”  He pulls your panties down your legs, allowing them to pool at his feet with your sweatpants. “I knelt by your bed and whispered my confession to you.” 

His fingers are filling you again and you gasp while staring into his eyes. “I wanna hear it.” You whisper through a moan.

 “You want to hear my confession?” You nod, your gently fucked out gaze stares into his like your hypnotized by the moment. He scissors his finger into you, stretching you out just a bit before you’re gasping from the stretch of him replacing his fingers with his length. 

“Fuck, you’re inside of me.” Hyunjin stills with a groan. His forehead rests on your shoulder while he silently begs himself not to come undone just yet. He sucks in a breath before he recites all that he can remember. 

“You’re everything that I thought it would be to fall in love.” He whispers as he pulls back, thrusting into you slowly. “You really snuck up on me, I don’t know what I expected though.” He lifts his head to look at you as he sinks back into you. “You became my world so quickly. So effortlessly.”

 You cup his face with both of your hands as you bite back your moans. You want to hear him loud and clear. You want to remember every word. “I should’ve known that I’d fall in love when I first met you.” He picks up the pace, falling into a messy rhythm that’s accompanied by a fit of moans and grunts. 

He struggles to keep his eyes on you. They flutter shut with each thrust as he feels himself float closer and closer to his climax. “Baby, I won’t last.” You wrap your arms around his neck and one of his wraps around your waist while the other rests on your thigh before creeping over to softly pinch and rub your clit. 

“Hyune, you’re gonna make me - gonna -” He cuts you off with a sloppy kiss, his tongue brushes over your parted lips to request access before making room for itself against yours.

“If you tell me that you’re gonna cum I won’t last another second.” He whispers against your lips and you moan against his.

“What if I tell you that I love you.” Hyunjin’s eyebrows pinch at the confession. That’s way worse than telling him that you’re close. “I’ve loved you back for as long as - as long as you’ve loved me.”

“Rose, baby, you’re gonna -” It’s your turn to kiss him now, it’s a mess of teeth and tongue but you love it. You love him and him you.

 You both pull away in tandem, twin moans ripping through your chests as you both announce yourself to the other. 

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” Hyunjin pulls out of you, painting your thighs in his sticky white release while his fingers toy with your clit to ride you through your orgasm. It’s loud and messy and beautiful. A romantic elegance that you want to live in for as long as it’s available. 

Once you’ve both come down from your high Hyunjin kisses your sweaty forehead and you kiss his. He pulls his bottoms up before grabbing the cleanest paint rag he has to clean you up. A comfortable silence settles around you as you ground yourself and take in the space.

“You didn’t finish that one.”

He follows your gaze over to the painting of the pale pink rose. The middle of the canvas contrasts the rest with nothing but dull line art to show the completed picture. It looks like a work in progress. “I know, but I think I like it like that.” He looks back over at you and you at him.

“It looks like you."

It’s been seven months. Graduation has come and gone in the middle of your blooming relationship with Hyunjin and you’ve dedicated each and every second of your budding love to taming the flame. 

Each kiss from him has kept the spark of fear at bay and each touch has taught you how to stop running. It’s been a slow and cautious process that he is more than proud to be a part of. He takes pride in it. He takes pride in being with you.

The smooth breeze of late summer brushes against your skin as you step out of your car. The white dress that Hyunjin picked out for you sticks to you like paint on a canvas as you make your way up to the art gallery. 

It’s buzzing inside, people stand and stare in awe at each piece while whispering and pointing to their favorite details. You stop and stand in the middle of it all, taking it all in with a slow spin on the balls of your feet. You take in every corner until you turn around completely and you’re met with the face of the artist himself. 

“Hi.” Hyunjin smiles down at you, brown baggy flannel hanging from his shoulders. 

“Hi.” You stare back at him with a gleaming smile in your eyes. You take in every inch of him, scanning him like he should be framed and hanging on the walls around you. 

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Hyunjin wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “I like staring at you.” Your response makes him beam a shy smile. 

“You should be staring at the art. The artist might get sad if you don’t.” He kisses your forehead before letting you go. Some people around you stare over at the two of you with curious eyes. They’re eager to put a face to the muse of the showing artist. 

You take his hand and lead him over to the piece that a couple is walking away from. You stand in front of it hand in hand as you study it for what feels like the millionth time. “This one is my favorite.” The incomplete pale pink rose stares back at you.

“And why is that?” Hyunjin has that smile in his eyes as he stares up with you. The memory of this piece's origin plays behind his eyes like a memorized movie. 

“I’ve been told that it looks like me.” You lay your head on his shoulder and wrap your arm around his. A chill runs up his spine and he blames it on you. You and the love he feels glowing pink and white around you. 

“There you are.” History repeats itself as the lady that you’ve come to know as Dalia interrupts the two of you. “I wanted to check in with you, how does it feel to finally have your own exhibition?” 

Hyunjin smiles at her politely, turning towards her a bit with his fingers still threaded through yours. “It’s amazing. Thank you, you’ve done a wonderful job putting this together.” 

“Oh, please, it’s nothing. This is all you.” You watch her as her eyes smile just as they always have. Her hand brushes over his arm in a carefully calculated move. She’s still shameless and unprofessional. “This piece is my favorite. The unfinished look is unique and raw. What inspired this one?” 

You grin to yourself as you listen to her. She’s trying so hard that it’s difficult not to laugh. 

“Actually.” Hyunjin pulls your hand a bit, leading you forward so that you’re right next to him. It’s impossible for Dalia to ignore you now. Her eyes scan you reluctantly and the smile on her face falters for a second before she pulls it together. Gosh, that's gratifying. 

“My lovely rose here is the inspiration for it all.” Hyunjin looks over at you with a glow that is unmatched even by the largest of flames. “None of this would be possible without her.” 

It’s like Dalia disappears once Hyunjin looks over at you. You’re the only two in the room as far as you’re concerned. “Oh, well that’s just - that’s wonderful.” Her staggered speech pulls you both out of your loving haze. 

“Such a … sweet profession of love.” She glares over at you though you’re sure that in her head she’s doing a wonderful job at hiding her contempt. “I should make sure that everything is running smoothly. Please excuse me.” 

She clears her throat awkwardly before she departs, you and Hyunjin both bid her smiling farewells before turning to each other with wide smiles. “Show off.” You push his shoulder playfully and he laughs.

“I didn’t do anything.” You roll your eyes as you both wander over to the next piece on the wall. You stare up at the two pink roses in a lone vase, a shadow of sunlight casts down on them both as they rise towards its shining glow. 

A comfortable silence blankets the two of you while you listen to the soft buzz of the people around you. You squeeze his hand softly and he squeezes back just as you open your mouth to speak. 

“She still wants to fuck you.” He smiles 

“Shut up.”

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[pickingupmymercedes]

Salt and Starlight - Lewis Hamilton

Lewis's 40th birthday special part 1

warnings: none

genre: fluff

wordcount: +2k

a/n: It's a '3 times y/n's made Lewis feel like a teenager (on the brink of turning 40) and the one time he did' (except that last bit is the part 2 coming later)

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

What do you give someone who has it all? He is Lewis Hamilton, after all.

I’d been asking myself that question for weeks.

Lewis isn’t exactly the kind of guy who needs another watch, another car, or another piece of art for his collection.

He’s got it all—trophies, fame, money, and a closet full of designer clothes that probably cost more than my first car.

So, what do you give that man ?

The answer came to me one night when we were lying in bed, talking about nothing and everything.

I’d been reminiscing about growing up by the beach, about the stupid, reckless things I did as a teenager that made me feel alive. Lewis had laughed, that deep, warm laugh of his, and said, “God, it’s been years since I’ve felt anything that… teenagery.”

And there it was. My gift to him.

“Are you sure this isn’t just an elaborate ploy to embarrass me?” Lewis asks, tugging the brim of his bucket hat lower over his sunglasses. The hoodie he’s wearing makes him look like a man trying to sneak out of a high school reunion unnoticed.

Which, okay, is kind of the vibe I was going for.

The drive to Santa Barbara was… well, let’s just say Lewis loved being a passenger princess, most times, and that wasn’t one of them.

He kept fidgeting, adjusting the seat, and asking if I was sure I knew where I was going. (Spoiler: I did. Mostly.)

But by the time we pulled up to the boardwalk, the sun was setting, casting the sky in shades of pink and orange, and he finally stopped asking questions.

The amusement park was exactly how I remembered it—bright lights, the smell of cotton candy and fried food, the sound of laughter and screams from the thrill rides. It was chaos, but the good kind.

The kind that makes you feel alive.

“You’re not serious,” Lewis said, staring at the roller coaster like it might bite him.

“Oh, I’m very serious,” I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the line. “Come on, old man. Let’s see if you’ve still got it.”

He glances down at me, a boyish smile breaking through his mock-suspicious expression. “Always.”

And there it is—the grin I was waiting for.

The one that reminds me of the Lewis who still feels like a kid sometimes, who loves the thrill of life just as much as his achievements.

For once, Lewis doesn’t have an itinerary. No obligations, no pressures. Just us.

We hit every ride that promises to throw us around like ragdolls. Rollercoasters that make my stomach drop (and Lewis laugh at my shrieking), bumper cars where I play dirty and spin him into the wall, and that spinning thing that got me questioning my life choices.

By the time we got to the Ferris wheel, the sky was dark, the stars just starting to peek through.

The Ferris wheel was… different. Slower. Quieter.

As we climbed higher, the noise of the park faded away, and it was just us, suspended in the air. Lewis was quiet, staring out at the ocean, and for a moment, I wondered if I’d pushed him too far with this.

“This was the plan all along, wasn’t it?” he says as he leaned into me. His voice is light, but there’s that knowing look in his eyes.

I feign innocence. “What plan?”

“The Ferris wheel. The whole night was a setup for this.”

I smirk, settling into the seat beside him. “You’re giving me way too much credit.”

The wheel begins to turn, the car gently rocking as we rise above the chaos below. The lights from the boardwalk blurring, and for a moment, neither of us speaks.

The world feels smaller up here, quieter.

He shifts closer, and I can feel his gaze on me, warm and intent. “This was a good idea.”

I smiled, leaning into him. “I have those sometimes.”

And then he leans in, his lips brushing against mine.

It starts softly, like he’s savoring the moment, but it deepens quickly, and suddenly the air feels electric. My mind goes blissfully blank, except for the thought that this—this might’ve been what I wanted all along.

When we finally break apart, his forehead rests lightly against mine, and he’s grinning like a teenager who’s just stolen his first kiss. “This feels straight out of a cheesy rom-com.”

“Good,” I manage, still catching my breath. “It’s meant to.”

He laughs, and it’s the kind that bubbles out of him, genuine and unguarded. And I think, there it is again.

That boyish smile I’d give anything to keep seeing.

“You know,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper, “this is exactly how I imagined love when I was a teenager.”

He chuckled, his breath warm against my skin. “Yeah? Did you imagine me too?”

I rolled my eyes, but I was smiling. “Shut up.”

And then the Ferris wheel started moving again, and we were laughing, and for the first time in a long time, Lewis looked… free.

We were still laughing as we stumbled off the Ferris wheel, my hand in his, the cool ocean breeze brushing against our skin.

Lewis had that look in his eyes—the one he gets when he’s trying to play it cool but is secretly having the time of his life.

It’s rare, these days, to see him so unguarded.

“You know,” he said, pulling me closer as we walked, “I haven’t done anything like this in… I don’t even know how long.”

“What, ridden a Ferris wheel?” I teased, bumping my shoulder against his. “Yeah, I can tell.”

He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “No, I mean… this. Just… being spontaneous. Letting go.”

I stopped walking and turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “Lewis Hamilton, are you telling me you’ve never been spontaneous? Because I find that hard to believe.”

He shrugged, that infuriatingly charming smirk playing on his lips.

“What?” I ask, bumping my shoulder against his as we weave through the crowd.

He gives me a sideways glance, lips twitching like he’s holding back a laugh. “Nothing. Just you, scheming. Don’t think I don’t know you planned that whole Ferris wheel moment.”

I roll my eyes but can’t help the small smile that sneaks out. “Oh, please. Like I can predict what’s going to happen in the heat of the moment.”

He hums noncommittally, but the way his hand slides into mine, fingers lacing tightly, tells me he’s not buying my act. And I’m not about to argue with him on that. Ever

We walk aimlessly for a while, the neon lights of the boardwalk fading behind us as we drift toward the quieter streets. It’s one of those perfect in-between moments—neither here nor there, where everything feels suspended, and nothing needs to make sense.

That’s when he says it.

“You know,” he starts slowly “you were right earlier. About the Ferris wheel. It did feel… teenagey.”

I smirked. “Told you.”

He hesitated, then said, “So… what’s next?”

I blinked at him, surprised. “What do you mean, what’s next?”

He shrugged, but there was a glint in his eye that made me suspicious. “You’re the one who planned this whole thing. What’s the next stop on the nostalgia train?”

I stared at him for a moment, then grinned. “Well… there is one thing” and before I can stop myself, the words tumble out. “We should get that tattooed. Like, right now.”

For a split second, I expect him to laugh, to brush it off with a comment about how I’m clearly delirious from all the carnival food. But instead, he just raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “What, the ferries wheel?”

“No, ‘40,’” I say, half-joking, half-serious. “Something simple. For this moment, for you.”

To my surprise, he doesn’t immediately shut it down. Instead, he tilts his head, considering. “You’re serious about this?”

“I mean… why not?” I shrug, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze. “You’ve got plenty. One more won’t kill you.”

He hesitated, and I could see the wheels turning in his head.

Lewis doesn’t do things on a whim—not anymore. His tattoos are works of art, carefully planned and executed by the best artists in the world. The idea of walking into some random parlor and getting inked on a whim was probably giving him hives.

He looks at me for a moment, his expression unreadable. And then he smiles, that slow, deliberate smile that makes me feel like he’s about to say something I’m not ready for. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

“Wait, what?”

“You said it yourself. Why not?”

And just like that, we’re standing outside a tattoo parlor that looks like it hasn’t seen a renovation since the early 2000s. The buzzing sound of the needle greets us as we step inside, along with the unmistakable scent of disinfectant and a tattoo artist who looks thoroughly unimpressed with our arrival.

“What are we doing?” I whisper as Lewis fills out the paperwork, his calmness somehow making me more nervous.

“Living like teenager, apparently” he says simply, handing me the pen to fill out my form. “You know, like… spontaneous, stupid, matching tattoos. The kind you get when you’re young and dumb and think it’s a good idea.”

The design we settle on is simple: the number 40, styled in a subtle, abstract way that could mean anything to anyone else. It’s perfect.

Mine goes on my wrist, tucked just under my watch strap. His ends up near his elbow, seamlessly blending into his sleeve, the one he’s spent years building.

When it’s my turn, I flinch at the first touch of the needle, earning a quiet chuckle from Lewis. “Don’t start,” I warn, gritting my teeth as the artist works.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he says, his voice entirely too amused.

When it’s done, we step back to admire our matching tattoos. They’re small, subtle, and utterly reckless in a way that feels right.

“40,” he says, his voice soft but laced with meaning as he looks at the ink.

I glance at him, my chest tightening in a way I wasn’t expecting. “The big four-oh.” I echo.

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t look at me. “Here we go.”

I grin, nudging his arm with my shoulder. “What? It’s a big deal. A milestone. People throw whole festivals for this kind of thing. They buy sports cars.” I pause, then laugh. “Well, I guess you’ve already got the cars covered.”

“Funny,” he says, finally glancing at me. There’s a glint of amusement in his eyes, but it fades quickly, replaced by something softer, more reflective. “It doesn’t feel like a big deal. Not really. It’s just… a number.”

“Uh-huh.” I tilt my head, studying him. “And how many times have you told yourself that the past month?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Too many.”

By the time we’ve grabbed more food—a greasy basket of fries—it’s late. The boardwalk is still buzzing behind us, but we’ve drifted to the sand, away from the crowds.

The ocean stretches out before us, vast and dark, lit only by the moon and the occasional flicker of a far-off boat.

Lewis sits beside me,  his hands occasionally finding their way onto my back his hoodie pulled up against the chill of the night. I watch as he unwraps his burger with careful precision, like the fate of the world rests on not spilling ketchup.

“Not bad for a last-minute dinner date,” I say, popping a fry into my mouth.

He looks at me, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Not bad at all.”

We eat in comfortable silence for a while, the sound of the waves filling the gaps. I can feel him thinking, though.

The way his fingers drum lightly against his knee, the slight furrow in his brow—it’s all there if you know where to look.

“You’re being suspiciously quiet,” I say, nudging him lightly with my elbow.

He glances at me, a small smile playing on his lips. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

He takes a bite of his burger, chewing slowly as if buying time to form an answer. Finally, he swallows and looks out at the water. “About this. About everything, really.”

“Everything?” I echo, raising an eyebrow. “That’s… vague.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “My birthday. Turning 40.”

I pause, the fry I was about to eat halfway to my mouth. “Oh, you’re having a midlife crisis?” I grin, trying to lighten the mood.

He gives me a look—half amused, half exasperated. “I’m not having a midlife crisis.”

“Sure sounds like one.”

He laughs, but it’s softer this time, his gaze still fixed on the ocean. “It’s not that I’m worried about turning 40. I just… I don’t know. It’s a lot to think about.”

I stay quiet, letting him take his time. You don’t rush these kinds of conversations.

“It’s funny,” he continues. “I’ve spent my whole life in this sport. Every year, every decision—it’s all been about racing. And now I’m here, about to hit 40, and…” He trails off, shaking his head.

“Hm?” I prompt gently, not pushing, just giving him space.

“And I thought I’d feel more certain about where I am.” He exhales, a long, slow breath that seems to carry years of weight. “I’ve told myself so many times I wouldn’t still be racing at this age. But here I am, and I don’t want to stop. Not yet. And now, with Ferrari…”

His voice breaks off again, and I see his hand flex slightly, like he’s trying to grasp something just out of reach.

“You’re scared,” I say quietly, not as an accusation, just an observation.

He laughs, but it’s more bitter than lighthearted. “Terrified…. Not of the racing—I know I can still do that. But of… everything else. Of failing, of not being enough. Of proving the people right who think I’m too old or that I should have stopped like Nico.”

I set my burger down, leaning toward him. “You’re not afraid of proving them right, Lewis. You’re afraid you might believe them.”

That gets his attention and his gaze snaps to mine, something flashing in his eyes.

“It’s not that I doubt myself completely,” he says after a moment. “But it’s there, in the back of my mind. This little voice asking if I’m trying to hold onto something that’s already slipping away.”

I take a breath, my heart tightening at the vulnerability in his words. “You’re not just holding on. You’re still building something. And you’re allowed to want that, even at 40.”

He looks down, his jaw tightening briefly. “I want to believe that. I really do… But then I think about all the things I’ve given up along the way—time with family, relationships, moments I’ll never get back. And I wonder if it’s selfish to keep chasing a dream.”

I nod, my chest tightening. “I get it. And I think it’s good that you’re thinking about these things. It means you care.”

His head tilts slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It’s not simple. It’s messy, and ugly, and complicated, and terrifying. But it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just watches me with an intensity that makes my chest ache.

“I’ve never been good at slowing down,” he admits finally. “Even now, there’s so much I want to do. So many dreams I’ve had since I was a kid that I’ve never had time for. And part of me wonders if I ever will.”

“You will,” I say softly. “Maybe not all of them at once. But you will. We will.”

He sighs, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he leans back on his hands, staring up at the stars. “Sometimes I wish I still had that recklessness, but with everything I know now.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works; you know that don't you, grandpa?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckles, the sound warmer this time. “Fair point.”

After a beat, he smirks, glancing at me. “You keep calling me old though, but I don’t remember you complaining last night.”

I burst out laughing, shaking my head. “Oh, shut up. You’re ruining the moment.”

He grins, and just like that, the heaviness of the conversation lifts slightly, replaced by something lighter but no less real.

As we get up to leave, I brush the sand off my hands and glance at him. “For the record, I like vintage Ferraris better anyway.”

“Now that you’ve mentioned it. There’s another teenager dream I’ve always had.”

He laughs as he reaches for my waist, and this time, it’s full and unrestrained. The sound carries over the waves, as he turns me around on the sand and captures my lips with his once again.

There, under the moonlight I know how much I love this man—even when he’s scared, even when he’s uncertain.

Especially then.

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @itsmrshamilton @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf

@priopp123 @strqirlhrts @hmmmmm-01 @bisexual-babygirl-mj @bebesobrielo

@hiireadstuff @f1-football-fiend @unlikelystay @thesizzler

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Icy III

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Teen!Reader

Summary: He watches your match

He sits up in the box with Laporta, stretched out on the foldout chair like it's his personal throne.

He's wearing a new suit, freshly ironed and tailored to fit his body perfectly. His hair has been cut and styled to give that almost effortless look about him.

"Trust fund, I reckon," Patri says from your warm up circle," That guy that's up there with Laporta."

"No way," Pina disagrees," That's new money, not old. Probably a hedge fun manager."

"Or some kind of oil and gas giant," Mapi laughs.

"None," You say," Real estate at first then tech and then big pharma over in the states."

"What made you guess that?" Mapi asks and you stubbornly kick the ball away.

"I didn't. Laporta's not going to get money out of him anyway. The wife is the one that invests in sports but only ones she gets good profits out of. Two NFL teams, a Formula One team. She owns a tennis stadium in Paris. Big investor in the Olympics."

"Oh come on," Patri complains," There's no way you just know that off the top of your head."

"It doesn't matter. If Laporta wants money he should talk to the wife."

You can feel his gaze on you throughout the match.

It's a team at the bottom of the table and you're so technical that they can't get close but you can still feel the weight of his stare on you at all times.

'You carry the weight of our family'.

He's told you that many times.

'If you cannot exceed expectations then we have no use for you'.

He's told you that too, something you remember as you cross the ball into Pina, who taps it in easily.

You celebrate together, hugging and you feel Ingrid's familiar presence behind you as she gives you her customary kiss on the head.

You look up at him in the crowd, just out of reflex but you can't see much.

He's still splayed out like he's a king on a throne, looking down at you like you're a peasant in the street, fighting with someone else for just a scrap of bread.

That's his idea of entertainment, like holding up a magnifying glass towards an ant hill in the middle of a sunny day.

You feel small under his gaze, dipping your head in submission as you walk back into your position.

You assist in the next three goals.

Alexia.

Aitana.

Even Keira.

You're good at that. You've perfected the art of assisting.

Mapi's even joked before that you're going for the record of assists from one person this season.

Alexia says she's going to make you be more selfish and shoot more but you don't think you really need to do that, not when Caro can do it instead of you.

This is one of the rare matches where Caro's being rotated so gets no minutes. You fill her place though, like you always do, setting up goals and carrying the ball down the wing.

Barcelona win, of course, and you drift back to Ingrid and Mapi like you normally do.

Mapi grins at you, arm thrown over your shoulder and a frown on her face as you go rigid under her.

Laporta is on the pitch with him, stuttering over his words and hurrying to keep up.

He stops in front of you.

"Y/n."

Your head drops automatically, thoroughly chastised as you step out from under Mapi's arms.

His hand clamps down on your shoulder and you can tell how this is going to go before he even opens his mouth.

"Of course we're very proud of her," His honeyed tone tells Laporta," We've wanted nothing but the best for her."

For them, you correct in your head.

"She's always had such a passion for football. We love watching her play."

He's never seen you play in his life.

"We-We're very happy to have her here!" Laporta tells him," She's a real talent. You're produced quite the footballer."

He laughs, waving away the compliments as his hand feels like a shackle around you. "You're too kind. Sports has never quite been my thing. I'll have to talk to the wife about what we were talking about, I'm sure you'll understand."

"Of course! Of course! Take all the time you need!"

He will. You know he will.

He'll discuss with her and they'll write up a contract if it's really something they're interested, about what they pay in and what they get out of it.

She's always been better at the sports side of it, despite her background in real estate. She knows how to talk people around in circles. How to get through the little boy's club that every sport has. She'll get what she wants if Barcelona is even something she's interested in.

You hope it isn't.

"I'll leave you alone with your daughter," Laporta says and you want to call after him.

You want to tell him not to leave with your father.

Barcelona was supposed to be yours. You were supposed to be safe here.

You can't control when they summon you in Norway but if you're in Barcelona, they're not supposed to be able to get to you. You're not meant to be subject to their whims in Barcelona.

You want to go home. You want to go home with Mapi and Ingrid and curl up in your bed with Toast and not move for a week.

His casual hand on your shoulder grows heavy in an instant, nails digging in to your skin through your shirt and you have to keep the smile on your face to keep up appearances for the cameras you know are on you.

His lips graze your ear as he whispers to you," If you ever blindside me like this again then I promise you won't like what happens next."

"Sorry, Father," You say back.

"You better be. I didn't like sitting up there with potential business partners to see my own daughter down there like a football hooligan."

"Sorry."

"I'm better than that and I raised you to be better than that too."

You resist the urge to tell him that he didn't raise you at all.

Your wrist twinges, the phantom injury flaring up like it always did when you're nervous.

You throat bobs, already closing up as you fight back tears.

"I'm sorry."

"Apologies mean nothing." His voice is harsh in your ear and you find a point ahead of you to stare at so you don't cry.

If there's something that he hates more than apologies, it's tears so you stubbornly don't let even one fall.

"Who's this, y/n?" Ingrid asks, clearing her throat and you flick your eyes to her.

"My-"

Your father says his name, sticking his hand out and he's back to playing the role of proud father. "And you are?"

"Ingrid Engen. I play with y/n on the Norwegian team too."

"Ah! Yes. I think she's mentioned you before!" He's lying.

He didn't even know you played on the national team.

"And I'm Mapi. She lives with me and Ingrid."

"I can't thank you enough," Your father says," She can be quite a handful sometimes." He laughs but no one laughs with him.

"I think she's delightful," Ingrid says," Very helpful. Very studious. She's the best in her class."

The smile on his face is real now, like it always is when he hears about your academics.

He started in real estate and then moved to investing in technology and pharmaceuticals. He and your mother are scarily intelligent and it might be the only thing they passed onto you.

"We expect nothing less of her," He says," I'm sure everyone at the party will be glad to hear it."

Your breath stutters in your chest. "The party?"

"Yes! The party! I must have forgotten to tell you! We're having a little get together with a few potential business partners. We'll have to get you a dress."

"I don't need to go."

"Don't be silly!" His hand tightens on your shoulder and you know that this isn't a discussion. "There's some people I should introduce you too."

Your head drops again, the fight leaving your body.

"Do you want us to go?" Ingrid asks, ever polite though you feel like without her and Mapi there you won't survive. "So you two can have dinner?"

Your father is laughing again, finally releasing you and you take several quick steps to duck behind Mapi.

"I've got a flight to catch. Meetings to get to. Far more important things."

He can't see you anymore, not with your head bowed and pressed against Mapi's back and you finally let the tears fall.

Ingrid watches your father leave, down the tunnel and escorted to the player's exit by the staff that seem to be falling over themselves to make him happy.

"Y/n," She says, coaxing you out from your hiding spot," Oh, sweetheart...Are you okay?"

You look at her, bottom lip trembling as the tears run down your cheeks.

"Ingrid," You say, sounding small and wounded like an animal," I want to go home."

Ingrid nods as Mapi tucks you under her arm.

"Let's go home."

[hp-lonesome-actual-art]

Ah yes, the aforementioned comic I was scheming up that one summer I had theater camp and always arrived five hours before it started (due to my parent having a librarian job in the area lol). Hence why I even had the time to make this silly concept into comic form. However it was never finished or continued as you’ve probably figured by now :P

Funny enough though I have leftover digital sketches for the initial conceptualization of these panels and the dialogue, which were never released once I finished the pages to be more refined. Think it’s neat to see the sketchy process tho. And since I’m not continuing it, might as well dump unfinished work or else it’ll just rot in my photos

These were part of the initial comic linked, before I redrew it and placed into comic boxes with background outlines

And this was part of the secondary comic prequel that I released. The dialogue got changed up and shortened quite a bit

And I think this was an alternative version to the second image in this sequence? Because it just kinda restates what was already said but different wording

Here’s some doodles in reference to the comic I created lol

I didn’t include The Badge Seller deal part in the comic, but it’s part of the overall story. Maybe I’ll make another comic explaining more about that

(Here’s the comic link btw. Just so it’s all connected together:)

[lazysoulwriter]

Beyond the Frame - Paul Mescal.

The soft rustling of leaves filled the air as Paul and (y/n) stepped onto the well-trodden path winding through the Irish countryside. It was a rare day off for them both, nestled in the heart of Wicklow, where nature had claimed every inch with open arms. The trees arched overhead like protectors, their leaves shimmering with morning dew. The air smelled of fresh pine and damp earth, a serene symphony that enveloped them as they wandered deeper into the wilderness.

Paul had insisted on this trip—“A break from the world,” he’d said, with his usual lopsided grin—and (y/n) had agreed, eager to spend the day surrounded by nothing but green hills and the soft cooing of birds. The city had been too much lately, too loud. But here, everything was peaceful.

“Hold still,” Paul called, his voice breaking the stillness but blending so well with the scenery. (y/n) turned to see him, camera in hand, poised to capture her. His hair was tousled from the wind, and a boyish excitement lit up his features.

She laughed, feeling a little self-conscious. “Again?”

He nodded, stepping closer as he focused the lens. “I need to capture the light just right. You know,” he said, almost teasing, “you’re the greatest work of art I’ve ever seen. How could I not take photos of you in every corner of this place?”

(y/n) rolled her eyes playfully, but her heart fluttered at his words. Paul’s charm was something she’d never quite gotten used to, no matter how long they’d been together. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Mescal,” she teased back, but she stayed still, letting him click away.

They continued their walk, Paul snapping photos at every opportunity—by the riverbank, where the water glistened under the midday sun; in a clearing where wildflowers bloomed in soft, pastel hues; by an old oak tree that must’ve stood for centuries, its roots deep and twisted into the earth. With every shot, Paul’s smile grew, and every time he lowered the camera, he looked at her with a mix of awe and love that made her feel more beautiful than any of the picturesque surroundings.

As the afternoon sun began to dip lower in the sky, they found themselves sitting on a small hill that overlooked the valley. The world below seemed endless, a sea of green with patches of blue sky peeking through the clouds. Paul wrapped an arm around (y/n), pulling her close as they sat in silence for a moment, just listening to the wind.

“You know,” Paul said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to take a picture that does you justice.”

(y/n) turned to him, brow raised. “Is that so?”

He nodded. “You’re just... you’re not like anything else, not like anything that can be captured in a frame. You’re more real than any photo, more alive. It’s like…” He paused, struggling to find the words. “It’s like the universe took all the beauty it could find and put it into one person. And here you are.”

Her cheeks warmed at his words, and she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “You have a way with words, Paul. But I think you’re biased.”

“Maybe,” he chuckled, kissing the top of her head. “But I’m okay with that.”

They stayed like that for a long time, watching the sun set in soft, golden waves over the Irish landscape. The world seemed to slow down, and for that moment, it felt like nothing else mattered—no schedules, no work, just them, wrapped in nature and in each other’s presence.

As the last light of day faded and the sky turned to shades of lavender and indigo, Paul picked up the camera one last time. Without saying a word, he captured (y/n) against the backdrop of twilight, her silhouette framed by the colors of dusk.

“Last one,” he promised, grinning. “But you have to admit, you’re the best muse I could ask for.”

(y/n) laughed softly, reaching over to take the camera from him. “Alright, now it’s your turn. Let me take a picture of the man who thinks I’m a masterpiece.”

Paul obliged, leaning back in the grass, a content smile on his face. As (y/n) focused the lens, she couldn’t help but think that this—this day, this love—was the real work of art.

And it was theirs to keep.

[mewtwoandme]

I was hoping this would all blow over, but since it's continuing to happen, now with people attacking other artists of the commewnity. I'm putting out my two fucking cents! Cause this whole art/character theft and pointing fingers, who stole what from who bullshit it driving me up the fucking wall!!

Long story short, it started with me and one other blog whose name I won't mention publicly. Despite the horrible light they tried to paint me in, I don't want anyone going to this person and ganging up on them. This person had some serious bitterness towards more "popular" artists and claimed that I've made characters similar to theirs and once used a pose they apparently used before (which was a very common pose, considering it was a reference from the game version of mega Y). Since then, they had desperately tried to conjure up evidence, narrowing down to the most miniscule detail how I've been stealing from them when I hadn't even known their blog existed until I was forcefully thrown into that unnecessary drama with the unhinged call-out posts they've made. With this being said, I'd like to point out that they never came to me or addressed this concern with me in the first place. They had every opportunity to privately DM me if they had suspected I was "stealing," but no, simply because they already made up their mind that I was a thief, that was a good enough reason to lack common fucking sense and decency, making what should have been a private issue public, going on to villainize and dehumanize me. And apparently, it hasn't stopped with me either, cause recently I've been seeing other artists in the community having to deal with this where people are being white knights on high horses, pointing fingers on how one artist's mewtwo looks "the same" if not "totally identical" as another artist's mewtwo. I refuse to believe it's a coincidence. But what makes me disgusted is that since TC's post, apparently it's had the opposite effect on some people and they're hopping on this blame bandwagon like it's some damn media trend!!!

This is NOT okay! Nothing about this kind of behavior is funny! It's upsetting to all of us. We dont need you causing problems where there isn't any, thinking you're doing us a favor! The majority of us are adults for gods sake! We are old enough where we don't need other people coming to us being tattle tails saying this person did this and that. That's what little children do! If you suspect any form of theft, I think I speak for ALL creators in this commewnity that we'd prefer you DM us privately saying something like "Hey, I think this person is copying you, might wanna look into it." And if possible, provide a link to the art in question, for which we would kindly thank you for making us aware and we'll handle it ourselves from there. Just a brief, yet SIMPLE interaction...that's all we ask!!! Don't even come at me with "Well, it's scary attempting to talk to an artist that's well known." Or dare I say ~pOpUlAr~ If you claim that taking the first step to send me a quick DM makes you nervous, yet you have no problem making public call outs in posts or asks, belittling and degrading what could actually be innocent artists doing nothing wrong, literally leaving yourself open to all kinds of comments and opinions from all kinds of people....I'm sorry but your anxiety isn't as bad as you say it is then, if being rude and ignorant in a public post/ask is easier for you. If you come to us, shaming someone else who 9/10 probably isn't doing anything wrong, thinking you'll be in our good graces for doing so, sorry, you're not going to be told, "Good job!" with a pat on the back and given a lollipop! You're just being an asshole.

Quick reality check for everyone who's made it this far before I end this train wreck of a rant:

People can have similar ideas that coincide with one another! There's only so much you can do when a whole community is focused around drawing the same character! We mainly draw mewtwos and mews, you're bound to find a plethora of similar colors, patterns, and designs because of it! Creativity only goes so far when trying to stay true to a character and not stray too far. It's not a crime to take inspiration from other artists' characters, we actually encourage this! It makes us feel good that you liked something we've done and you want to incorporate it into your own designs! It makes us happy that we inspired you! The line is crossed when someone does a literal copy/paste of a character down to the exact detail, and they call it their own original creation. That my friends is what stealing actually is!

[talaok]

i loved the hickey fic🥵

can i request a role reversal fic?

reader marks up joel and is unashamed about it

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

a/n: thank you love, hope you'll like this although its been so long you probably forgot about this. and if you're interested, this is the fic they were referring to

It was just you and Ellie in the kitchen this morning. You were laughing about another funny dream she had last night, this one involving Joel trying to tame a gigantic sheep so he could ride it or something, she didn't quite remember the purpose, not that it mattered.

But as you both quite literally felt on the verge of tears from the image the dream was painting in your minds, the main character of said dream, appeared in the doorway, throwing you both a dirty look as if watching two of the three people he loved the most in this entire world didn't fill his old heart with pure joy.

"It's too early to be this chipper" he grumbled, walking to you to leave a quick kiss on your cheek as he reached for the coffee pot behind you.

A gasp sounded from the other sound of the counter

"oh my god what happened to your neck?!" 

And it was then, that Joel Miller, the unafraid, stone-cold killer of a man that he was, turned red from hairline to neck.

"O-Oh fuck I-" His eyes widened, his hand going to cover your work on his neck, but it was all useless, because the second Ellie's eyes landed on the smirk plastered on your face, she knew.

"oh my god ew" she groaned, rolling her eyes, her focus going back to the eggs on her plate.

"You remember Janine, that woman I told you about?" you explained, talking to her

She laughed at that, remembering your conversation about that woman who's always flirting with Joel.

"you filled Joel's neck with hickeys because of her?"

Joel wasn't even red anymore, he was turning purple, his eyes were wider than a deer's caught in the headlights, and you suspected he hadn't taken a breath since he first entered the kitchen.

"this..." you smiled, trailing your fingers on Joel's neck "is my own little way of telling her to keep her hands off my man"

Joel choked, he literally choked on his own saliva and just then, just when he was about to have a heart attack, Tommy entered the house, his eyes immediately going to the image before him with more than a little amusement.

"What have I walked into?" he grinned, walking over to the kitchen "And why does my brother look a breath away from exploding?" he laughed, his hands gesturing to Joel.

"y/n here was giving me way too much information that I certainly didn't want to know" Ellie explained, looking at you pointedly for the last part of her sentence, making you chuckle.

"About what?" Tommy asked

"About the work of art I left on your brother's neck"

"wha-Ohhh" he breathed, smiling like a smug bastard as he understood what you were talking about "Janine tried something again I presume?" 

"You presume right" you smiled, giving Joel a little kiss on the cheek and stifling a smile at how terrified he seemed "for the last time"

"You ok baby?" you asked, stroking his cheek

His gaze was on Ellie, his mouth parted in shock.

"You still with us man?" she asked, giggling softly, making him shake his head to try and get his mind to start working again.

And then, then the words came tumbling off his tongue, filled with what sounded like pure panic

"S-since when do you know what a hickey is!?"

Everyone in the room except him laughed, but when the shock on his features persisted, and Ellie regained her composure, she answered.

"I'm not a kid Joel, I know what sex is"

Another pang to his poor heart, 

he felt all the organs inside him twist into a knot

what the fuck was happening?

Did she just say-

"sex!?" he cried, looking a second away from having a mental breakdown "I-I never said sex- H-how do you even know- I- You- You're too young- I-I"

"ok ok ok" you tried your best not to chuckle, intervening before his heart really decided to stop "How 'bout we go outside for a moment huh? Take a few deep breaths? How about that?" you murmured, soothingly drawing circles on his back 

He looked at you then, looking every bit as disheveled as he sounded 

"y-yeah" he swallowed thickly, "I-I think that's a good idea"

He looked back at Ellie for a moment to make sure this wasn't a nightmare and he didn't just make that up, before you both left the room.

And as if on cue, the second you did, Tommy and Ellie started laughing like maniacs.

"I don't think I've ever seen him so scared" Ellie laughed, as Tommy sat next to her, patting her back

"Neither have I" he chuckled, none of them saying anything before an idea came to his mind.

a hell of a funny one

"ten bucks if you tell him you know what porn is"

[unsanctitude]

@unsanctitude doodled your dude real fast i love him too....art fight is early this year

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

I love Sabo as a character so much! However something about his introduction into the story has bothered me for a while. Oda is a master story teller but it truly feels a bit like Sabo whole existence was dropped into our laps out of nowhere. What's your opinion on his introduction? And if you could, what would you change?

Thank you so much for all your amazing art! Always sparks joy.

Hello hello! I also love Sabo a lot and as such theres a lot that I’ve had to come to terms with and work out with myself. I’ll let you in on my brain worms and what they’ve concluded with this subject though so hopefully some kind of weight is lifted off your shoulders, cuz right now, i think his introduction was done really well.

So first off, All Of Luffy’s family members’s whole existences were dropped into our laps out of nowhere, to be fair.

Luffy is not one to talk about his family or his past at all. So i dont blame him for not telling us directly about sabo when he barely told us about ace as he stood in front of us in Alabasta. But even if he doesnt talk about his family, for me, it’s very easy to see what Sabo’s influence on and especially what the loss of him taught Luffy before we even officially see him. We see it especially in water 7/enis lobby/sabaody arcs. During the course of the story up to that point, we don’t really see the world government, but even so, we see Luffy’s complete understanding of the cruelty and heartache it creates. We see his utter determination to not let a single other person he loves be taken away by the world government, too.

Also in Arlong Park! We see him understand what someone’s sacrifice on his behalf looks like. He knows how it ended last time. He’s not going to let it happen again and seeing it happen again in arlong park and water 7 and sabaody and Marineford absolutely kills him. Omg not even to mention Shanks losing his arm, too. This man is completely surrounded by people sacrificing themselves for him wtf. But like Shanks’ situation didnt give him that patented World Government Hatred, babeyyyyyy

And with how he was reintroduced officially in dressrosa, i think it was very artistically done. Like having all those themes and parallels to Luffy’s childhood, even going so far as him pointing them out, himself. That, and the Mera Mera No Mi coming back into the story, it gets you thinking back on Luffy’s backstory and what his brotherhood meant to him. So like Sabo’s already in the back of your mind from that and then youre also thinking “well who the hell is gonna get this fruit once Luffy wins it??” So when Sabo comes back i just feel like “of course. Of course it could be no one else but you.”

Also E S P E C I A L L Y with introducing Sabo, famous Amnesia Patient, back into the story during an arc that explores the absolute horrors of being forgotten and being the one forgetting???? Like truly the most opportune moment to get him back in there. I really love the Dressrosa arc, i think it’s all done very well.

I feel like if it was just Ace and Luffy, it would feel incomplete. Like Sabo’s part in their backstories just adds such a delicious spice to the age old dynamic of “older brother who dies for younger brother who he loves a lot.”

Like tell me Ace’s Death would hit the same if Ace didnt already know what it felt like to lose a brother.

His passing is already beyond tragic but like Sabo’s whole part in it just makes it so much more tragic in a way thats just 😚🤌 mwah~❤️ 𝕷𝖎𝖋𝖊 𝕽𝖚𝖎𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌.

Sabo’s presence also adds a very personal level to Luffy’s understanding of the world he lived in. Like the big picture. I really think that if sabo wasnt occupying that space, Luffy wouldnt try to even know about the WG or class warfare or bother with any of that shit. Sabo is Luffy’s draw to the world around him me thinks. Like of course he would have to face that stuff when he went pirating, but those lessons would not have been taught to him before he got out there without Sabo.

This is the same in present day, like why would Luffy care at all about the Rev Army if Sabo wasnt in it? He’d be very thankful that they took Robin in, but like he wouldnt be actively asking about how the Rev Army was doing if his big bro wasnt a big part of it.

Also on that note of Sabo being in the Rev Army, I think that before Ace’s death and Sabo regaining his memory, Sabo wouldve been sneaky and largely unseen. Like yeah he barges into marine fortresses to take them down, but usually there isnt any survivors to tell the tales of him doing so. So before the timeskip, Sabo is out of the public eye. Out of any eye, really. But in my mind, when he regains his memory, i think he would do his level best to get his name out there. Thats why we see all those people in the colosseum/dressrosa be like “:O!!!! ITS THE CHIEF OF STAFF OF THE REV ARMY NOOOO” its cuz all his inhibitions left him. So like his face would be in news papers but luffy doesnt read news papers to find that Sabo’s alive and doing shit.

I think that Sabo took so long to let luffy know he was alive because he was scared luffy would hate him. I think he was scared of the potential scorn from his little brother he feels he wouldve been justified in getting. I think that if luffy was not put in a position where he wouldnt be able to fight in the colosseum anymore due to Law Getting Shot And Taken Off circumstances, Sabo wouldve let Luff keep going all the way to the end. But in that moment, Sabo knew that the fruit was no longer in his little brother’s capable hands and had to take matters into his own. Like we see him thinking about this in the episode of Sabo. We see him slowly following luffy around, listening, waiting, understanding the complexities of his situation, and ultimately making the decision to swap places with him.

I could literally talk about this forever i love talking about this forever and ever theres so much to discuss.

I’ve heard criticisms that Sabo’s amnesia story feels like fanfiction, but like,,, I just cant stop thinking about the hilarity of it all. Like why do you care that all this is all convenient, when it’s kinda funny. Like image you’re explaining your tragic backstory to someone and like you have to be like “now i know this sounds really. Really. Convenient. And ironic. But it’s My Life and I’ve had to Live Through It so please dont laugh.” Like idk!! ITS KINDA FUNNY!!!!!!!!!

I dont think i would be able to change anything about Sabo’s presence in the story without someone being out of character if im being honest. Like Luffy doesnt bring up his past, Ace doesnt like bringing up things that cause him pain, and we dont meet anyone else who knew he even existed until we see Luff’s backstory.

There’s a panel in the logue town arc though, that kinda looks like Sabo standing in the crowd. I think that maybe in the reanimated show or even the life action, if we could get a closer visual on him, just to see that he exists there, i think that would be neat.

Thanks for the question and kind words! Hope you enjoyed the long rant, i could rant for 2000000 more paragraphs but I’ll cut it there for now.

[artssslut2]

New Normal

Dilf!Art x Reader

Summary: A lazy morning with Art Donaldson.

You and Art became inseparable soon after you started dating, well as inseparable as you could be while Art was raising a five year old. You had met Lily for the first time a while ago and she loved you, she called you her best friend, it was the sweetest. Nowadays you and Lily would spend more and more time together.

However you never slept over when Lily was with Art. You didn’t want her to be confused or get too used to you being around all the time. Even though Art was sure you were it for him. He was a father first and a great one. Tashi had Lily most weekends - when she wasn’t out of town coaching, but this weekend she was home and had their daughter. Art always misses Lily so much, but it was nice to have some alone time with his girlfriend. You stayed over since Thursday, it was amazing. Art was so romantic and caring. It was like you were royalty anytime you were around him.

You rolled over in the morning still groggy from waking up, you saw your boyfriend laying next to you admiring you sweetly

“Hey sleepyhead” Art whispered tucking hair behind your ear. You smiled and kissed his hand as a response “think about how great it will be when you live here.” He hinted curling up next to you

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled with a raspy sleep voice “when’s that gonna happen?” Art looked at you lovingly and took a breath

“Soon, when I propose.” He winked, your heart started pounding and you felt 100% awake. You loved art and wanted a future together, you knew this talk would come but it caught you off guard in a good way.

“Yeah?” You asked with an enormous smile that made Art return the smile

“Yeah” he chuckled “if you’d want that” he followed joking around because he knew the answer. You nodded enthusiastically and he laughed then you laughed crawling up into his lap giggling like a kid

“I just… gotta talk with Lily and come up with a plan so that she feels good, I don’t want her to feel left out or anything.” He told you in his concerned dad mode. You loved seeing him as a father, watching him worry about his little girl made your heart melt

“You’re a really great dad, you know.” You smiled, he let out a soft exhale and smiled slightly, you felt butterflies in your stomach before asking him what’s on your mind “D-do you… want to be a dad again?” You asked shyly. You were young and still wanted more kids, surprisingly it’s something you hadn’t talked about. You couldn’t read his face and started to panic a little “maybe… later on like someday?” You continued nervously. Then a smile spread on his face and a tear formed in his eye

“Yeah. Yeah I would love that.” He said wiping a tear before it could fall.

“Baby are you okay?” You asked holding his face and he just continued smiling

“Of course I’m okay. I just never thought this would happen to me… I thought I was done with that stuff I felt kind of I don’t know unlovable. I’m thankful for Tashi but that marriage took everything out of me. But when I met you. Baby when I met you everything changed, I felt so alive again for the first time in so long. I love you so much y/n.” He said teary eyed. You hadn’t seen art this emotional. It made you tear up too, watching Art learn to love himself again was one of the greatest things to watch.

“Art you deserve the world. You the greatest partner and father and role model, I’m in awe of you everyday. I want to help give you the marriage and life you deserve.” You touched your forehead to his.

“I’m gonna give you everything.” He said kissing your forehead and then you passionately. Then he felt his phone go off. He wouldn’t normally pick it up when he was spending time with you but since it could be about his daughter he did. He looked at it with slight disappointment

“Tashi has to catch a flight she needs me to go pick Lily up.” He told you. He wasn’t upset, it’s not that he didn’t want to pick up Lily. Not that at all, he just hated seeing Tashi choose work over their daughter more and more. He never wanted Lily to feel how he felt.

“Oh, do you want me to head out ?” You asked understandingly

“No… come with me. Lily will be happy to see you.” He told you putting a shirt on. You wouldn’t go with him on drop offs or pickups you tried staying out of the day to day routine. “You sure?” You asked

“Absolutely. Gotta get used to the new normal.” He smirked buckling his belt. Your heart fluttered and you nodded.

You and Art got to Tashi’s about thirty minutes later, Art went up to the front door and didn’t even get half way there before Lily burst through the door and ran straight into his arms, it made you smile and think about what a good man he was. He put Lily in his hip and then met Tashi by the door. They talked for a minute and then Art gestured towards his car and Tashi gave a quick wave in your direction. Then the door shut and Lily and Art were on their way to the car.

“Y/N!!!” Lily greeted excitedly leaving from the backseat to give you a hug,

“Lily!” You returned and Art smiled

“Y/n are you coming home with us?” She asked with the same scrunched up smile her dad had

“Yes of course I am!” You matched her energy and she was ecstatic “we’re gonna stop at Starbucks first though right?” You asked leaning towards Art and he gave you a smile

“I guess so” he said playfully as you have Lily a wink and she laughed.

You couldn’t wait to officially be apart of their family, they were your world.

[grapejuicestyless]

Paper Crowns

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: After finally having some down time after a hectic few weeks, you and Harry finally get around to decorating for the holidays.

“What do you think?”

My gaze was drawn to the thick, red and green stockings hung over the mantle, embroidered with the first initials of our respective names. Along the brick hung thick ropes of tinsel spread through the deep green garland with pops of red cranberries scattered throughout.

But the real show stopper hadn’t been the festive rugs, or the seasonal mugs, or the extravagant lights Harry and I had woken up bright and early to hang all across the roof and the gutters, but the tall tree that sat squished in the corner of the living room, a small blanket wrapped around the base of the tree and a thick pine-y smell wafting through the house.

It was decorated with a mixture of ornaments and garlands that shouldn’t have mixed, but due to the extreme randomness of the assortment, it felt all too perfect. Each ornament was a souvenir of a shared experience or memory that tied to places that expanded down the Western and Eastern coasts of the United States all the way to the beach-y shores of Australia. Some were collected from our families, old art projects from our early school days, or framed family photos that we used to find embarrassing as children.

There was crumpled up tinsel in all different colors and red and silver and blue and yellow ribbons swirling around the branches. But right on top, sat a beautiful, golden star that shined so brightly, it put all the other sparkling things to shame. And it felt so much like home, I felt like the grinch. My heart had grown three sizes bigger.

“It’s perfect, Har.” I complemented, vaguely aware of the comforting of his hand resting against my hip, pulling me closer to him as we shared a small space in the center of the room.

He smelled of shaving cream and vanilla, and he was as warm as the crackling fire by our feet. We’d spent so much time together, running around in private so that one day, we could both return to the spotlight. Harry now adorned a scruffy mustache, one I was familiar with, and one he had previously grown out during the lockdown a few years back. In this light, one could forget that he was Harry Styles, because under our shared roof, he was simply Harry. Nothing more, nothing less.

“M’glad we found time to do this together this year.” I spoke softly, my eyes flickering from the shiny decorations to the deep greens of his eyes. Only to find that the entire time, he hadn’t been admiring our work the same way I had, but rather he hadn’t been stuck looking only at me.

“Me too.”

In previous years, though Harry and I were both granted a few days off from our hectic work schedules to enjoy the holidays with family, the weeks leading up to it never seemed to synchronize. But, a bare home is a sad one, so when eventually, snow began to turn into slush and our house looked eerily dark compared to the other houses around the block, one of us would end up setting up the house in the quiet, letting the moon be our company while the other was far away attending to their own problems.

This year was different. Harry wasn’t touring, and the album had been finalized a long time ago. As for me, I had finished press for all my movies, and the premieres had come and gone. I could spend my days laying at home now, tucked beneath a blanket with the satisfaction that it had all washed over, and I had the pleasure to bask in the glory, not in Time Square or the heart of Los Angeles, but beneath the covers with my head pressed against my lovers chest, sighing out in total bliss.

“Theres only one more thing for us to do.” Harry smiled, leading me across the cold wooden floors to the dining room, which had been pre-set with all the plates and cutlery for our eventual guests that would roll in on Christmas morning.

Next to each plate lay a large paper tube shaped in something close to the appearance of a bow. Christmas Crackers, is what Harry called them. Cardboard-like things that were meant to be pulled apart like a wishbone, a harmless game where the winner of the larger half would win a small prize.

I smiled, leaning my hip against the table and watched as he leaned across the table cloth to grab one of the spare crackers that sat in the center of the table next to the stacks of candles.

“What do I win if I get it?” I asked softly, grabbing the end of the game firmly between my fingers.

“Is the prize not enough?” Harry laughed, his eyes crinkling happily as he bared all his teeth in his smile.

“How about a kiss. Just to satisfy my cold heart.” I teased, and he didn’t argue. We both knew that despite the result, I’d get what I wanted either way. It was Christmas time after all.

“What if I win?” He raised a brow. “What do I get?”

I hummed, watching his grip tighten around the other end, his fingers flexing under the strength of it.

“Anything you want, my love.” I promised him softly, blush rising on both of our warm cheeks at the open promise.

Harry simply nodded with a teasing smirk, counting down softly under his breath, but skipping the two and jumping to three like he often did before his songs.

There was a short battle before a loud pop sounded, and as we looked down at our hands, I was surprised to find the larger half attached to where I held on.

Inside there was a bottle opener shaped like a reindeer. It was dull and already rusting, but it wasn’t really the prize I cared about, not when Harry was already wrapping his arms around me with a loving grin, drunken in his gaze as his eyes locked onto mine.

There was a paper crown too, purple and delicate. His fingers fiddled with the material before slotting it on my head, and pressing his palms against my cheeks.

When he kissed me, I felt warmth expanding in my chest down to my cold feet, and I swore his lips were meant for mine because they fit so damn perfectly against mine every single time.

When he pulled back, it was with a shaky laugh, and a touch of his mouth to the tip of my nose. The moment felt golden, like something I’d stolen from the world, and I was happy to have gotten away with it.

“Merry Christmas, Harry.” I couldn’t help but giggle at the sappiness of it all. The giddy feelings had me reeling, making me forget for a moment that I wasn’t a young girl in love anymore, but the woman that had proudly grown beside him.

“Merry Christmas, love.”