#I’m not watching the season but this is my one prediction

[inconsistentartistuwu]

Still can’t over the fact that when my friend showed me the MDZS donghua for the first time (and my intro to MXTX in general) I kept predicting stuff and my friend getting pissed at me for predicting LMAO. Here are some examples that I remember.

——

Episode 2- introduction to Lan Zhan

Me: “His the gay top isn’t he?”

Friend: “Yeeeeep”

——

Episode I forgot- LWJ says “Let him cry. After his done drag him inside”

Me: “YEAH DRAG HIM INSIDE HIS BEEN WAITING YEARS FOR THIS! STRAIGHT TO BED WITH YA”

Friend: “…”

*Sees Emperors Smiles hidden in Lan Zhan’s room*

Me: “Was bro really pining that hard that he became an alcoholic or was he waiting for him?”

Friend: “You’ll see. At the end of season 3”

Me: “Bruh”

——

Introduction to Wen Ning when he was alive

Me: “Please tell me this sweet boy gets a glow up.”

Friend: “You could say that”

——

Episode ???- when WWX takes off LWJ headband and makes LWJ mad.

Me: “Why is he so mad? *GASP* Imagine if it’s because if you take off the headband you have to marry them, or only their loved ones can take it off or some shit like that.

Friend: **SMACKS TABLE** HAVE YOU WATCHED OR READ THIS BEFORE?!

Me: WAIT I WAS RIGHT?!

Part 2 later cause I’m at work typing this LOL

[tandv]

I think riverdale s7 will end with there being a way home to the future but there will be a choice as to who wants to leave and who wants to stay. And Archie will want to stay, whether or not that’s what he chooses idk but he will toy with the thought of living in a universe where he can have a do over of his life without it having been ruined by trauma or mistakes etc.

[lesbiansaaviik]

Can I be beautifully honest with you guys? I hate 91 Whiskey and So Says the Sword

[youkissedareaderinthedark]

The Scare

Synopsis: A terrifying crash puts Y/n in an even more terrifying situation, and it affects everyone, in the end.

young female driver x 2023 F1 Grid

A/N: for this one, valtteri is retired and reader has taken his seat at alfa romeo

also, @badassturtle13 you requested a fic like this a month or two ago while i was in my writers block-era, but if you remember your ask and would still like to read it, here it is

You knew the risk. All twenty of you did. That’s how yet got into these cars every weekend. But that doesn’t make it any easier when you actually face the risks.

You weren’t the biggest fan of the Las Vegas Grand Prix from the start. You knew the planning for it was rough, and that there were a lot of elements of the weekend that everybody was unsure of.

You weren’t exactly surprised when the reasoning behind the storm drain incident was released after Free Practice 1, or when race directors revealed they didn’t even look at the predicted weather for this weekend.

But there wasn’t much you could do about either, about any of it really, so you put your head down and focused on your car.

You joined Alfa Romeo as the third rookie of the 2023 season, and although you and Zhou weren’t getting wins and podiums each weekend, you finished in the points nearly every race, and helped bring your team up to 8th in the Constructors Championship.

As of the second to last race, you were having a good first season; you and Zhou got along great, your team trusted you, and you liked getting to know and hanging out with the rest of the grid. Specifically, your closest friends Logan and Oscar, who you were walking with in the paddock before Sunday’s race.

“Is it bad that I’m not excited for the race?” Oscar asks from the middle of you three, as you walk down the grid.

“I don’t blame you, I wouldn’t want to start P17 either” You admit.

“You’re gonna be fine Oscar, you’ve made your way up the field before, you’ll do it again” Logan shrugs, assuring him.

Oscar nods as you speak up with the beginning of a smirk on your face. “When you make it up the field and into the points, along with me and Logan, what are we doing to celebrate?”

“No. No, we have-” Oscar’s already shaking his head as Logan laughs. “I know some of the grid is going to a club a few blocks away, you guys wanna go?”

“Yes,” You rush to say after you see Oscar start to protest. “we’ll go. No objections”

“We have flights tomorrow-” You interrupt the Australian. “I don’t care, we should all go. And I have to leave now so you can’t say no” You point out as you near the Alfa Romeo garage. Oscar rolls his eyes playfully as Logan continues to laugh.

“Good luck Y/n, see you after the race” Logan says, still chuckling as Oscar waves and continues down the paddock with the American by his side.

You greet Zhou as you walk towards your drivers room to meet with your trainer. The last 20 minutes you have before you’re needed on the track is spent doing reflex tests and speaking with the strategists one last time.

You leave the garage to stand for the national anthem after a brief Grid Walk interview with Martin, and quickly return for the formation lap.

“Alright Y/n,” Your team principle, Alessandro, comes over your radio as you’re pulling out into the pit lane. “do your best to maintain P7 or higher, just be aware of the tires. Stay safe, good luck”

“Thanks, will do. See you at the finish line” You reply before flipping down your visor and accelerating onto the track.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s a cold night here in Las Vegas, but the city is awake and ready to watch the last U.S race of the 2023 season. Our drivers are approaching the starting line, the five lights are coming on, and it’s light’s out and away we go!”

You manage to pull away from Magnussen behind you and advance closer to Logan in front of you as you near Turn 1. You get through the first and second lap fine, until your race engineers Alex, informs you that Lando’s crashed during Lap 3, and the 19 drivers remaining are being led by the safety car until Lap 7.

You think your race will be uneventful past that point until you notice the reluctance in the car’s breaking during Lap 19. “There’s something wrong with my brakes, it’s getting hard to slow down” You radio concerned, back to your team.

“Stand by Y/n, we’re checking” Alex tells you as you approach Turn 1 on the next lap. After a few moments without an update, you radio again.

“Anything? It’s getting bad, I can’t slow down” Your voice shows your clear concern. It’s clear to everyone that you’re getting more and more distressed each minute.

“One moment, Y/n, we’re trying” The engineer becomes audible again, and you get that everyone in the garage is trying, but right now it’s not enough.

You’re going at 150 miles an hour down the straight after Turn 4, and you could practically hear your heart beating nervously as you approach Turn 6.

You press on the brake pedal. Nothing. You try to release your hold on the accelerator pedal and clutch on your steering wheel. Nothing.

You go through the options in your head;

Turn and crash purposefully now to slow your car down? There are drivers less than a second behind you, the straight isn’t that wide, they could get hurt.

Turn and hit the curb as you pass the corner to slow down? There are drivers less than a second behind you, the corner isn’t that wide, they could get hurt. You could get hurt

Your adrenaline is pumping, thoughts are flying through your head at a million miles per second, and you don’t know what to do.

You’re going 150 miles an hour down a straight, but now the corner is coming closer.

“I can’t fucking stop! Alex!” You’re pressing the radio button frantically, hoping someone, anyone responds.

Nothing.

It all goes by in a flash.

Turn 6 comes at you faster than you imagined. Your Alfa Romeo crashes front-wing first into the barriers, the momentum of a 150 mile-per-hour car so strong, not even your harness can stop your body from colliding into your steering wheel.

Everything goes white for a moment, all you could hear is a deafening ringing in your ears, and then the only thing you could feel is pain.

The hurt in your chest is intolerable. You think you’re screaming. There’s smoke or clouds of dust or something else you can’t begin to decipher in the air surrounding you. You could feel the vibrations of the track from the passing cars below you, but you don’t bother to move your head up from where it rests on top of your wheel.

If the ringing wasn’t so loud, you might’ve been able to hear three of your ribs on the right side of your chest break when you first made impact with the wheel. If the pain wasn’t so unbearable, you might’ve been able to notice how because three of your ribs on the right side of your chest are broken, your lungs can barely produce oxygen for you to breathe.

It’s only when you try to gasp for air against the tears running down your face do you notice. The second you try, it sends streaks of pain overflowing throughout your body. Then you realize. You can’t breathe.

You want to stay calm, you really do, but you’re crying so much you could feel them soaking your balaclava, you’re scared to the point that your hands are shaking uncontrollably, there’s still so much adrenaline in you, and you can’t breathe.

You try to radio your team to tell them to send medics or just do something to help, but when you open your mouth to speak, the same thing happens as when you tried to radio for help earlier.

Nothing.

You’re stuck in your crashed car, without a voice, without a breath, and you think this is it.

It feels like hours, but really, it’s only been about a minute since you’ve crashed. Every grand stand is silent, and Martin Brundle and David Croft are speechless. Alex is trying to communicate with you while the other engineers attempt to figure out the the state of your car. Drivers are being led by the safety car under a red flag, anxiously talking to their own engineers to find out if you’re okay. And finally, the safety marshals and medical staff have made their way onto the track and to your car.

The marshals repeatedly shout to you for a sign of responsiveness while the medics move to pull you out of the car. Everyone else is either running in and out of the ambulance that’s just arrived, or helping place a curtain around you for privacy.

The medics transfer you onto a gurney on the ground while the lead medic assess you. She’s pulled off your helmet and balaclava and is left staring at your pale face, alarmed eyes, and gasping mouth.

A few touches to your pulse and lungs confirm her suspicion, and the woman quickly asserts her team. “She has flail chest, she needs an oxygen machine and an IV for pain meds. Her ribs are broken on the right side of her lungs, she’s been barely breathing”

The materials asked for are provided in seconds, and within a few moments, an oxygen mask is placed around your face, and the skin in your left forearm is being pierced with a needle.

For the first time since you started Lap 19, you’ve found both your voice and your breath, the pain striking through your body isn’t as severe anymore, and your nerves have calmed down.

The lead medic hovering over you notices your less-tense state, and lets out her own breath. “You okay kid?” With an oxygen mask, 3 broken ribs, and an IV in your arm, you nod with small smile of relief on your face.

The medics let you stay laying down on the gurney, and transfer you into the waiting ambulance to get you to the nearest hospital. The safety marshals update the Alfa Romeo garage on your state of health, and your damaged car gets moved off the track. Once informed themselves of the situation, Crofty and Martin advise the anxious and waiting fans of your condition and when the race will resume.

The 18 drivers that were restlessly sat in their garages are now visibly relieved and preparing for the race start. The engineers on your side of the garage are pouring over the data from Lap 19 to figure out where it all went wrong, while your trainer leaves to go meet you at the hospital.

While you’re in the hospital, you get hooked up to a new IV and get assessed by a nurse before a doctor comes in to take your X-rays. The results show your 3 broken ribs and the few bruises on your lungs that are set to heal within a week or two.

You’re put on a ventilator to help your breathing after the doctor tells you that you had to stay in the hospital for at least 3 days, and you’d miss the last race of the season as a precaution.

You also undergo surgery hours later to stabilize the broken ribs, and ensure you’re not internally bleeding. Because of all the anesthesia and pain medicine, your either asleep or painless for your first night in the hospital.

The next day is when you’re brought into the real world again, and your trainer tells you everything you missed. He tells you Lando, who you learn was in the room a few doors down when you came in, visited you after your surgery and wished you to get better soon. He tells you about the rest of the race and everything the rest of the drivers have said about you and your crash.

You talk to your team eventually and convince them to let you travel to Abu Dhabi on Saturday to at least watch the race from the garage. You talk to your parents and friends to inform them that your lungs are healing accordingly, that you’re off the ventilator, and have been breathing fine by Thursday.

You’re discharged from the hospital Friday night, and only stop at your hotel to collect your things before catching a flight to Abu Dhabi. You told Logan and Oscar you’d be arriving Sunday morning, which explains why they’re so surprised when you show up in the paddock after Qualifying Saturday night.

“It’s not the best place to start from but-” Logan spots you first, in the middle of a conversation with Oscar. “Oh my god” Is all he mutters before running up to bring you into a hug. You’re smiling, almost laughing at his reaction, until you hear what the American says.

“Don’t do that again. I thought you-” You notice his voice break, and you’re once again aware of what everyone else was feeling while you were breathless inside your car almost a week ago.

“I won’t Logan, I’m okay now” You assure him as best you can before Oscar comes over to both of you. Logan lets go momentarily while the McLaren driver hugs you.

“We were all really scared, y’know. We didn’t know,” He pauses, his voice catches before he’s speaking into your shoulder again. “we didn’t know if you were okay”

“I know Oscar, I’m here though, I’m okay” You know you can’t say much in sympathy to either of the drivers right now, you’ll never exactly know the anxiety and worry they felt on Sunday, but you do tell them about your time in the hospital and how you’re expected to make a full recovery in time for next season.

“I wish you were driving today though, you should be in your car for the last race” Oscar says as the three of you walk through the paddock together.

“I know, I want to drive too, but at the same time, I’m kind of glad I’m not driving until next season. I want to let my lungs rest and everything before I get in my car again” You say with a shrug.

You were being truthful; you weren’t afraid of crashing again, you actually couldn’t wait to drive your Alfa Romeo, but you heard all the possible long term affects of rib and lung damage, and you’d rather miss out on one race than your entire F1 career.

“I’m just glad you’re okay” Logan admits as Oscar nods.

“Yeah, me too”

a short, somewhat emotional f1 fic. 1 down, 3 to go

[dannyricsmirrorball]

paddock princess • cl16 ੈ✩‧₊˚

ੈ✩‧₊˚ pairing || charles leclerc x journalist!reader

ੈ✩‧₊˚ genre || social media au

ੈ✩‧₊˚ summary || y/n is an f1tv presenter. charles is a scuderia ferrari f1 driver. there’s no way they’re together… right?

ੈ✩‧₊˚ a/n || kinda basic and predictable but thought it was cute.

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, and 40,982 others

yourusername let’s go 2023 🇧🇭

tagged f1

username72 another season another year of y/n’s slay paddock fits

username16 ferrari red…?

natalie_pinkham gorgeous girl 😍

username55 another year of charles and y/n obnoxiously flirting while they’re both oblivious to the other

username81 woo so excited for this season and to see u on track and in the paddock 🤍🤍

scuderiaferrari loving the red 😍

username01 ofc charles already in the likes

username44 the best presenter in the paddock

f1 paddock princess!!

arthur_leclerc lfg

⤷ username16 supportive brother in law 🤔🤭

francisca.cgomes my girlllll

⤷ yourusername miss uuu

liked by scuderiaferrari, francisca.cgomes, and 120,838 others

yourusername faces of the paddock

tagged pierregasly, charles_leclerc, landonorris, carlossainz55, maxvertsappen1, alex_albon

username82 see, this is what happens when u are respectful towards the drivers, they actually look like they’re having fun and not wanting to neck themselves

username33 max looks so happy 🥹

lilymhe that 4head 🤤 alex_albon

⤷ alex_albon 😐

carlossainz55 🧸🌶️

danielricciardo no feature??

⤷ yourusername well maybe if u had a seat…

⤷ danielricciardo oh.

⤷ heidiberger_ she’s got u there danny

⤷ username3 danny’s catching strays left and right… even from his own gf 😭

username61 the whole grid loves her like she’s literally paddock princess

username17 omfg charles that is literally a man that is IN LOVE

landonorris max looks v beautiful 😍😍

⤷ yourusername he does doesn’t he… 🤭

⤷ maxverstappen1 i pull it of do i not?

username72 i’m sorry?! the way charles is looking at her… i’m FLOORED

username91 i’m so sorry but the way they all interact w her like they’re friends… u do not see this w any other presenter or journalist. like she’s so good it makes u feel like they’re friends irl

⤷ landonorris what are u talking abt? y/n is literally my best friend

⤷ pierregasly hate to break it to you mate but pretty sure she doesn’t feel the same

⤷ landonorris yeah soz probs ur gf 🙄

⤷ francisca.cgomes sorry lan and pierre 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

⤷ pierregasly more like *******

⤷ yourusername who’s that 🤔

charles_leclerc great pics y/n 🤍

⤷ username82 he is so painful

⤷ username5 what is this charles 😭

⤷ yourusername thanku charles 🤍

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, and 92,038 others

yourusername exciting stuff…

tagged scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, shellmotorsport

username02 AHHH SO EXCITED

username37 obsessed w anything ferrari x y/n

pierregasly he still thinks he can wink 😟

scuderiaferrari very exciting!

username91 MORE CHARLES Y/N CONTENT YES PLS

charles_leclerc so fun seeing u today x

⤷ username27 my man can NOT flirt

⤷ username52 mans is lucky he has a pretty face

username22 ready to watch y/n and charles shamelessly flirt whilst carlos watches no thoughts head empty

username33 y/n is the best interviewer she always makes the drivers comfortable and have fun - helps that charles is defs majorly crushing

carlossainz55 always a fun time 🔥

liked by username4, pierregasly, and 12,037 others

leclerc_updates take a guess at who he’s looking at in every single one of these

tagged charles_leclerc, yourusername

username14 pierre?? what are u doing here?!

username92 pierre is always lurking

username16 pierre is sick of charles being a lovesick fool and is taking matters into his own hands

username91 HE LOOKS SO IN LOVE HELP

username28 he’s so fucking fine and he’s down so bad

username75 charles_leclerc fight back?!

username01 my man STAND UP

liked by charles_leclerc, olliebearman, and 230,928 others

yourusername we are going to monte carlo!

username91 red for ferrari at charles’ home race ❤️‍🔥

username2 fits never disappoint

lilymhe stunning gorgeous gal

charles_leclerc have a beautiful time

⤷ username64 is this him trying to tell her she’s beautiful?? he’s seriously so bad at flirting

danielricciardo don’t be surprised if u accidentally fall in

⤷ yourusername u wouldn’t…

⤷ natalie_pinkham he would

⤷ yukitsunoda0511 he would

leclerc_pascale belle fille 😍

⤷ yourusername merci maman 🩷

⤷ username16 IM SORRY WHAT

⤷ username40 they are NOT slick w it

liked by carlossainz55, lorenzotl, and 1,167,828 others

charles_leclerc 6th in today’s race. it was always going to be difficult with yesterday’s penalty.

thank you for all the amazing support this weekend. home race always feels special 🤍

username16 il predestinato 🙌

username91 the prince of monaco

username01 a good job charles 👏 get ‘em next time!

yourusername keep pushing 🤍

⤷ username9 best wag things

username56 at least u finished 😭

scuderiaferrari 💪❤️

joris__trouche proud of u mate

arthurleclerc ❤️

lorenzotl ❤️

username99 you’ll come back stronger!

liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes, and 104,028 others

yourusername best birthday ever 🌺🌺

username73 oh my god i need that cake

username16 OMFG SECOND SLIDE HAS TO BE CHARLES

francisca.cgomes happy birthday my beautiful girl 💓

usernames73 SOFT LAUNCH???

username92 omg y/n softlaunching…. who’s the man?!

⤷ username47 it’s obv charles

⤷ username92 we don’t know that. i mean she’s a tv presenter/interviewer and he’s literally one of the most highly regarded and talented racing drivers in the world

⤷ username47 and he is literally friends w her? most of the grid is quite close w her and he openly flirts w her? lol stay mad

carlossainz55 happy birthday hermosa ❤️‍🔥

⤷ yourusername thanku carlitos 🤭

⤷ username3 carlos said if charles ain’t gonna shoot his shot i might as well hahahah

⤷ username21 always shipped them more, they have wayyy more chemistry than charles and y/n

⤷ username61 carlos literally said he sees her as a sort of younger sister and when y/n joined the racing community she said carlos took her under his wing like an older brother figure 🤢

⤷ username4 plus carlos is (along w pierre and kika) probably the biggest charles and y/n shipper

⤷ username8 and carlos literally has a gf 😭 and y/n is still rlly close w isa so she wouldn’t go there

⤷ username3 hasn’t stopped ppl b4…

pierregasly happy birthday mate 😝

⤷ yourusername thanku pear 🍐🩷

arthurleclerc hbd y/n 🥳

⤷ yourusername ❤️❤️

maxverstappen1 happy birthday y/n!

⤷ yourusername thankuuu max

naomischiff happy birthday love 💜

isahernaez happy birthday hun 😍💘

⤷ yourusername thankuuu isa 💖

carla.brocker happy birthday sis 🩵🩷

⤷ yourusername love u 🩷🩵

⤷ username12 sister in law??? 👀👀

f1 happy birthday to the queen of the paddock!

⤷ yourusername thanku admin 💛

alex_albon hbd rockstar 🤘

⤷ yourusername ty albono 🤘🤘

username65 with all the drivers and wags saying hbd, you’d forget she’s literally just an f1 presenter 😭

landonorris happy birthday bff best friend for life

⤷ yourusername thanku lan 😛

danielricciardo hiphiphooray oldie

⤷ yourusername thanku danny… but who are u calling old?

georgerussell63 happy birthday mate 👏

⤷ yourusername thank you gr 🤍

lewishamilton happy birthday y/n ☺️💜

⤷ yourusername thank you lewis 💜

⤷ username18 i actually cant. they love her so much. like lewis wouldn’t do this for half the drivers.

oscarpiastri hbd y/n 🙃

⤷ yourusername thanks oscar 🩷🩷

username55 all this noise abt y/n and charles dating but charles didn’t even say happy birthday… lol

instagram stories

swipe up to reply

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, and 101,671 others

francisca.cgomes feliz aniversário minha linda menina! i love u forever and am proud of u beyond words. you are so talented and the kindest soul i’ve ever known. forever my soul sister 🩷🩷

tagged yourusername

username19 the best paddock friendship

usenane77 y/n being so close to pierre and kika warms my heart

username1 ok but like pierre and charles are def on the opposite side of the third pic

pierregasly 🤍

username89 pierre and charles being bffs and then their gfs also becoming bffs 🥹

⤷ username9 charles’ gf?

⤷ username89 not confirmed but basically confirmed

carla.brocker beauties ⭐️⭐️

⤷ username73 arthur’s gf ^^ 🌚

⤷ username8 they can just be friends without anything to do w charles

yourusername my sister 😘😘

username9 kika is so iconic for putting a pap pic of them

liked by charlesleclerc_updates, pierregasly, and 20,836 others

f1wags mystery girl in charles’ new youtube video… is the ferrari driver taken?

do we think that a certain birthday girl is the one that finally snatched motorsports most wanted bachelor off the market?

tagged charles_leclerc

username89 OMG DEFS Y/N LIKE LOOK AT THE HAIR

username22 they were both in monaco at this time… it only makes sense

⤷ username81 well i mean it was the MONACO gp… not like it’s their job to be there

username16 everytime i accept they aren’t together… pierre likes another one of these posts

username55 guys stop being delusional! he didn’t even post or comment happy birthday to her?!

username5 i mean even if they were dating b4 i don’t think they are anymore

username92 u guys need to stop being delusional

username99 it makes so much sense i mean his brothers, and his brothers’ gfs, and his mum all comment on her posts

⤷ username55 yeah but he doesn’t anymore…

username17 charles is literally maybe the only person in the paddock who hasn’t wished y/n a happy birthday… if there was anything there it’s obv not there anymore

pierregasly 👀👀

⤷ username21 OMG PIERRE WHAT DO U KNOW

⤷ username64 IS THIS CONFIRMATION PIERRE

⤷ username9 omgomgbfhrkjejd

⤷ username16 look at the mess he’s made yourusername charles_leclerc

⤷ yourusername pierre.

⤷ charles_leclerc putain d'idiot

liked by pierregasly, lorenzotl, and 12,092,828 others

charles_leclerc happiest of birthdays mon amour ❤️

3 years with you… i’d like to hang out with you for my whole life.

tagged yourusername

[lalunanymph]

RIN ITOSHI AND DOWN BAD!!!

𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐃 [*ੈ✩‧₊˚ dawn.🕹️ ttpd]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ one breakdown. a sudden realization.

I’m staying at my parents’ tonight. Don’t call me. 

9 hours ago. That was Rin’s last message to you. 

The sky above was turning, grey clouds lingering on the horizon like the thickening of a warning smog. Growing up on this side of town, the smell of asphalt assaulting your nose was a constant, and it mingles with the carnage of your writhing emotions.

Picking up your pace, you try to leave the thought of Rin behind in the dust.

Taking the stairs two at a time, you reach the double glass doors, pushing it aside to be surrounded by the smell of iron, sweat and bleach. 

A run would be the best thing for your mind.

Booting up the treadmill, you stretch across the bars, unloosening the knots in your back; giving your glutes a tight squeeze with alternative leg lift ups. 

The pounding of your running shoe-clad feet on the belt filled your mind with white noise—the music blaring from your earphones helping to drown out the pain clawing its way through your chest.

But, no matter how much you tried to move forward, you could never forget. 

The greasy sensation lingering heavily in your bones heaves and twists, a child in the corner begging for mom to turn and acknowledge it. Throwing plates shattering to the floor; fingerprints drenched in blood red of neglect streaking across pristine white walls.

You lean forward, slamming the pause button. Almost flying off the treadmill, grab the handles and double down, clutching your torso, sweat and tears stinging down your cheeks. 

There was no one to watch your breakdown, the clock showing 2 in the morning; flashing 24-hour neon sign at the doorway blinking apathetically in your teary vision. 

For a long moment, you stayed down on the ground, sniffling quietly.

Once the tears dried up, you picked up your phone, checking your messages. 

Predictably (even if it made your stomach fall to your feet), Rin hadn’t texted you. You stared at his name, at his photo—his pretty teal eyes half-closed, disgruntled shade of amusement at your surprise kiss on his cheek as you ambushed him with this photo.

Never would you have anticipated he would make it his main contact picture.

Loving Rin existed in shades of grey and fractions of light which you tend to miss if you didn’t look fast enough. A fond look, a secret smile.

You missed his every fleeting show of affection. 

But, how long could something so perfect be kept behind the scenes without deteriorating from a lack of light and affection?

I can’t believe you would think I was cheating on you because of some rumour, he seethes from the couch. I come back home to you, don’t I? You’re being too fucking sensitive and unreasonable. If you hate me, you can say it right to my face rather than making this more difficult for me. You’re such a hassle. I���m leaving.

Barely giving you time to take back your words or give your pain more breathing ground for understanding. 

Rin took his keys, wallet and half of your heart out of your shared apartment’s door; unwittingly breaking your entire trust in him in a fell swoop.

You blinked the moisture from your eyes, staring at the carpeted floor. 

Your phone vibrated, and you rubbed your eyes, reading his message over and over again.

I’m sorry. I hate fighting with you. I’m on my way back home. Can we talk? 

You stare at your phone; outside at the inky sky unleashing a deluge of rain which splatters across the high windows. Rin was never this persistent unless he knew he had fucked up big time.

Baby? Are you there? Can we talk? 

The vibration of an incoming call. Without thinking it through, you declined the call. 

If he wanted to tell you what's on his mind, he could do it face-to-face.

(Did you even want to see him again?)

Hey, I know you’re angry at me, but at least let’s talk this out. I know the season’s been hard on both of us. I don’t want us to end like this. 

You read his texts silently, not responding. 

Another call. Another tap of the red button. 

Baby, stop ignoring me. I was stupid with my words. I said some really stupid stuff. Don’t be angry anymore and let’s talk this out.

The pitter pattering of rain fills your mind with static, keeping you on a loop of his last words and the ones you can’t seem to focus on the smeared screen. 

Mechanically, you read through his text, seeing the chat bubble disappear and reappear—never did three dots make you feel close enough to have a stroke. 

Your baited breath follows on the tail of his next message:

I still love you. I love us. I’m so sorry.

A wave of loss overtakes you, the next message you type out with shaky fingers sent straight into the void—blue speech bubbles turning grey once you begin the process of removing Rin bit by bit from your life; clicking on the ‘block’ button to refuse these crumbs of affection you couldn’t starve yourself on anymore. 

I’m sorry, too. Please, don’t come home. Goodbye, Rin.

©️ lalunanymph

[beachbxtchforev]

I’m Wearing UNC Blue for Him

after you support Rafe at his big game, he shows his appreciation for you on the way home.

pairing: basketballplayer!Rafe x fem!reader

word count: 1k

warnings: 18+, fingering, slow burn, some curse words, use of “baby”

1:37 left on the clock. the Heels lead the Huskies 78-72. Connecticut possession.

this was one of Rafe’s biggest games of the season. going against last year’s NCAA conference champs, UNC needs to pull off this win to secure a top bracket position. the roar of Chapel Hill was mind numbing, your ears were ringing from the chanting that surrounded you. today, you opted to sit with the Cameron’s instead of cheering from the student section because they often secured seats closer to the court. you wanted to be able to see Rafe up close, maybe even give him a glimpse of you showing your support for extra motivation.

the ball is thrown in from the sideline, making its way up the court towards UConn’s basket. their player goes for a layup and makes it. 78-74. 1:24. Kelce checks the ball to Rafe, with the two of them making their way back towards their hoop. UConn’s impressive defense forces the ball to be passed until Rafe can make his way into the paint. he once again gets the ball and is quickly fouled. just as you expected. you hate when the game is close in the end with both teams doing whatever it takes to prevent points.

you stand for Rafe’s free-throws, thumb nail up to your mouth out of habit, feeling the stress of 20,000 fans watching his every move. he bounces the ball, shoots, and sinks it. thank god, now just do it again. and he does. 80-74. 1:10.

the minute left of game play really takes ten, anxiety seeping into your every move. Rafe has the ball with four seconds left, taking a shot from the 3 point line. its in! the Heels win!

you fly out of your seat, hands reaching the air, quickly turning to Sarah at your side to embrace out of relief. Ward high fives you as Rose’s smile beams.

-

Rafe always takes a while to join the group after a game, especially one as big as tonight’s. when he comes out of the locker room you are so excited to see him that you run to jump into his arms. “you did it baby! im so proud of you,” you exclaim as you wrap your legs around his torso. he chuckles at your enthusiasm, pecking the side of your head.

once he lets you go, he shares moments with each of his family members and you walk hand in hand out of the facility.

a winning game day is always your favorite because it ensures a good mood from your boyfriend for the rest of the night.

“I can’t believe that last shot you made, you just had to rub the win in their face babe?” you jokingly question as he opens the passenger door to his truck for you.

“what can I say, im tryin to make some noise in prep for the tourney, baby. plus I really want to start getting NBA scouts’ attention.”

you watch as he rounds the front of the truck to get in.“well you got my attention, that’s for sure.” you smile at him, leaning over the center console to give him a peck on the mouth.

putting the car in drive, you guys head back towards his apartment. Drake plays through his speakers as you look out the window at your beautiful campus lit up by the moon. you’re pulled out of your trance by Rafe’s hand reaching out for your thigh, giving it a light squeeze. just like you predicted, he’s in a good mood from his win, so you might as well let him bask in it.

you’re wearing just a UNC vintage pullover that you stole from Rafe and some jean shorts, which you feel his hand working towards. biting your lip and sneaking a glance at him, you decide to unbutton the denim and slide it down your legs, revealing your lacey thong to the darkness of the truck. Rafe’s hand moves higher, grazing over the fabric of your shorts to meet the now bare skin of your hip, while his left hand controls the wheel. you let out a gasp when his fingers dip into the top of your panties, grazing your slit.

his actions are followed by a whimper from your mouth, already feeling yourself getting soaked. however, you have been turned on since you saw him in his Heel blue jersey on the court. his fingers apply pressure, finding your clit and moving in circles. your legs spread, giving him better access as he multitasks his way into giving you and orgasm. what can’t this man do?

“Rafey, inside me. please” you beg, wanting to feel his fingers.

“ya baby? want to get fucked by my fingers? huh?” he teases as he continues to maneuver the truck through the emptying streets.

“y-yes! yes, pl-“ your words are cut off my your own moan as Rafe’s middle and ring finger thrust into your entrance. he too groans at the feeling of your gummy walls around his fingers, blood rushing to his cock.

his fingers move in and out, working you open. he adjusts his hand so the heel of his palm can apply pressure to your clit while his fingers work your hole, warmth invading them. he adds a curling motion to his thrusts, finding the spot that almost always has you cumming.

“shit y/n. squeezing my fingers baby? you gonna cum?”

“please Rafe! im so close,” you moan out. band in your stomach ready to snap.

as soon as he turns the truck into the parking garage, fingers moving rapidly, you release, wetness coating his hand, your heavy breaths filling the cab. after a couple more pumps, he removes his fingers from you and slides them between his lips, collecting your juices. you turn your head to face him, hair slightly disheveled and sticking to your forehead.

“you taste so good baby,” he says, as he takes his fingers out of his mouth and tucks a misplaced piece of hair behind your ear.

leaning over to give you a needy kiss, he grasps your wrist, pulling your hand to feel his hardened cock.

“now how about we go upstairs and you give me a three celebratory rounds for that 3 pointer that impressed you so much?

-

let me know what you think ✨

[lokidjarin-7567]

Kinktober Day 7: Secret Relationship

Spencer Reid x you

Contents: fem!reader x Spencer Reid (Criminal Minds), oral sex fem receiving, flashbacks, ooey gooey feelings

W/C: 3.2k

Ok so I’m behind again, oops, but I’m proud of this one! Again, not the kinkiest but I got carried away with the fluff and I also got into a cipher-related rabbit hole so I hope you enjoy regardless :))

PS: This is also a love letter to pre-boyband hair season 5 Spencer, AKA my favourite hair era, as depicted below

Kinktober Masterlist | General Masterlist | AO3

“Do you want to grab some coffee?” A voice whispered beside you, a touch too close to be just colleagues. You smiled uncontrollably, heart rate picking up as his hand brushed across your back.

“Sounds good.”

That’s how you found yourself pressed against the door of the copy room, Spencer’s lips on yours, his hand up your skirt.

“We’ve got time, baby…” He practically whined between kisses, bucking his hips into yours.

“Spence! We have…“ you checked you watch absentmindedly, “5 minutes until briefing.” He grinned.

“I take that as a challenge…”

His head started to dip, moving to kneel down, but you grabbed his hair with a fake gasp of disbelief, pulling him back up to his usual height, looming over you.

“Oh honey, I don’t doubt you could, but I’m not sure these walls are soundproof.” Your fingers moved to his cheek, and he sighed into your lips, his hands returning to your waist and squeezing.

“But you left so early this morning, I didn't have time to start your day right…” You were grinning ear to ear, noses bumping into each other clumsily, and you whimpered into his mouth as his teeth grazed your bottom lip.

“I know, I know, I’ll make it up to you later, I promise…” You kissed him one last time with finality, pushing off the door and smoothing your skirt, but he was slightly less keen to leave, pressing himself against your hip as he helped straighten your hair and lip gloss. “I should probably leave first. You clearly need a minute.” He huffed behind you, but you had already slipped out of the room, heading into the bullpen as if nothing had happened.

You’d had a crush on him for a long time before anything happened. You joined the team a couple of years ago as a linguistics and code-breaking expert - something that was surprisingly helpful in the cases the BAU took on. You’d harboured years of butterflies, coy glances, occasional hand grazes… and you thought you’d done a pretty good job at hiding it. You’d known it was unrequited - he never so much as looked in your direction unless he was asking your opinion on something he was working on. It was starting to get to you. Your feelings had slowly been growing, swelling in your chest as you watched from afar, to the point where you had considered transferring departments. And then it all changed.

It was a case in California; a serial killer who was carving encrypted messages into his victims posthumously, only you had no idea what cipher he had used. You and Spencer had been working tirelessly for days to crack it while the rest of the team were searching for physical evidence, and it was a distraction you were grateful for. Even though you were working alone with him in close quarters, it was one of the few times you could briefly forget about your feelings, too consumed with your work to allow yourself to think about him.

It was night 3 of sleeping at the station. JJ had predicted it was going to happen, moving your go bags from the hotel to the precinct on the first day, and you and Spencer had been taking turns napping on the small couch whenever you physically couldn't keep your eyes open. You were sleep deprived and strung out, but you were close. You could feel it. You knew it wasn’t a shift cipher or some kind of alternate alphabet converted back and forth - you had exhausted every possibility of that days ago. You had been testing more complex ciphers, Garcia running everything imaginable through software to attempt to decipher it, but with no luck.

“What haven’t we tried?” Spencer muttered, pacing the room after a last ditch attempt at some kind of converted polybius square. Garcia was on speaker, confirming that she had tried every option available to her twice over.

“I mean, at this point, it could only be some kind of complex Vigenère cipher that somehow hasn’t been deciphered through Garcia’s software, or…” You didn’t even want to say the other option aloud - just the thought that three days work would’ve been completely wasted sent a shiver through your body.

“Or it’s a one-time pad.” Spencer said what you were too scared to, collapsing on the sofa with a sigh.

“A one-time pad? Is that the…”

“Unbreakable cipher. Yeah.” He confirmed.

“Unless…” A thought struck you, and you stood to the whiteboard you had set up in the room, scribbling down the ciphertext from the first body and converting it to numbers. “We need to think about this from the unsub’s point of view. He wouldn’t use a true OTP because if he truly wanted to hide this code, he wouldn’t carve it on his victims. But, the key might not be random.”

“Yeah, but then it would’ve been picked up on Garcia’s systems…”

“Not if each body had a different key….” You had written and converted the next two bodies’ codes while you were speaking, and you stood back briefly, showing Spencer what you had written. “We’ve been collating the messages and running them as a whole, but…do you see a pattern?” He paused, eyes scanning over the board frantically, and then he calmed visibly, a wave of realisation hitting his features. You smiled as he saw what you did, standing quickly and grabbing another pen to scrawl the keys beneath each.

“The Bible.” He whispered. “A Vigenère is hardest to break if the key is as long as the plaintext. Seven letters. Six letters. Nine letters. Genesis. Exodus. Leviticus.”

“It might work.” He nodded, brow furrowed in thought as he stared at the lettering.

“Let’s try it.” He wrote the corresponding letters as you did the sums, converting them back to the alphabet and - to your shock and relief - it was making sense.

P. L. E. A. S. E. H. …

E. L. P. M. E. I. …

C. A. N. T. S. T. O. P. J. …

“Garcia, can you read the last body please? The one we don’t have photos for yet…”

“No need.” Spencer muttered, writing it down without glancing up. You forgot how immaculate his memory was sometimes.

“Thank you.” It was seven letters. Perfect. You wrote numbers, he converted, you did the sum and muttered the letters aloud…

A. M. E. S. T. O. L.

“James. James ‘tol’? Is that a name, or the start of one?” Garcia asked over the speaker, but Spencer wasn’t listening, muttering to himself as he moved to the files quickly, flipping through them.

“No, I…” You answered for him, “I think Spence is onto something Pen…”

“Get Hotch on the line.” He barked, finding what he was looking for and bringing it to you.

“Hotch here…” A tired voice rung out in the small room just as you realised what Spencer was showing you, a gasp escaping your lips.

“It was David.” He breathed immediately, his words tumbling out at a breakneck speed. “The message on the bodies said something about James followed by T-O-L, and that reminded me of your interview…”

“David kept referring to a colleague throughout the interview, a James, that ordered him around a lot…”

“If he kills again, I bet the phrase would be completed. James told me to, maybe?” You mused, and Spencer nodded.

“Garcia, have you got his file.”

“Yes, I’m opening it now and… oh my god.”

“What is it?”

“He had a brother called James. Hung himself when David was 11.”

“And all of his victims died from strangulation.” The pieces had fallen perfectly into place.

“Address?”

The unsub’s home had been closer to the hotel, so Hotch and the rest of the team went to his listed address, leaving you and Spencer to wait nervously in the precinct. You were pacing frantically, knotting your hands as the sound of your heavy boots echoed throughout the room. Spencer cooed your name calmly, and you turned to him, blushing lightly. He was sitting on the edge of the sofa, leant forwards with his arms on his knees looking up at you with… a look you’d never seen before. Concern mixed with something else, something foreign to you. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with a kind smile.

“Just sit for a minute. Try and relax.” You nodded weakly, perching on the edge and trying to still your racing heart, leg bouncing and hands still twisting in each other with nervous energy.

“Sorry, I… I know we’ve done our bit now but I hate not being there when the team are apprehending him…”

“I know what you mean,” he muttered. You sat in silence for a few minutes, mind racing with what might be happening. What if he was armed? What if he’d decided to shoot his way out? They could all be dead right now, and you would have no idea….

Spencer’s phone rang. He stood, answering it quickly. It was Emily, and you heard him mutter a few affirmatives, smile playing across his features.

“Did they…” You asked as soon as he hung up, and he nodded.

“Yep, it went perfectly. He’s in custody, and they’re on their way back now.” The relief you felt was palpable, a sigh falling from you as he sat back down on the sofa next to you, sinking into it and resting his head back, mirroring your position.

You hadn’t realised your leg was still bouncing until his hand fell to it. Your breath caught in your throat as he squeezed lightly, stilling you effortlessly. He was so warm, slender fingers fanned out across the space just above your knee, and it took a moment for you to compose yourself. You turned your head, and he was already gazing at you, the mysterious expression from earlier back, his dark eyes meeting yours with warmth.

“You were incredible today…” He muttered, hand still resting on his leg, and you couldn’t help but blush. He was the most intelligent person you knew, and likely would ever know, and even without your feelings being involved, a complement from him was about the highest praise a person could get in your line of work.

“Thank you, but I couldn’t have done it without you…”

“Bullshit.” He whispered, and you laughed.

“Ok, maybe I could’ve, but it would’ve taken me twice as long.” He chuckled then, eyes scanning over your face with an intensity you only saw when he was trying to analyse something. It felt as though his eyes were boring into your skin, and you had to look away, heart near beating out of your chest. His hand shifted slightly on your leg, and oh sweet Jesus you just remembered it was still there. It had a strange affect on you - like when you put a harness on a cat and they suddenly couldn’t walk. You were frozen solid, trying to breath and staring at the ceiling.

Then his hand touched your chin. It was light, delicate, just guiding your eyes back to his and it wasn’t until that moment you finally realised what that look had been, the one you couldn’t identify. It was a reflection of what you had been feeling for months. The longing, the restraint, the need that swirled up inside you every time you stole a glance at him, and now, seeing those same emotions in his soft eyes, it was sobering. He wanted you too.

He moved first, gently pulling your lips to his and kissing you, light as a feather. It was tentative and sweet, so unsure and your body took a second to process that the thing you had been imagining for years was actually happening. And then you smiled, hands moving to the base of his neck, fingers twisting into his gorgeous hair and you pulled him back to you, lips clashing in a kiss full of years of pent up desire and desperation. You felt his body relax under your touch as the kiss deepened, his hands wandering to trail your waist and hips, before tangling in your hair and holding tight, pulling you closer. You had twisted until you were practically on his lap, hands falling to his shirt and bunching it up as his tongue finally hit yours, every bone in your body turning to jelly as you tasted him. It was magnetic, everything you had wanted for a long time finally coming to fruition and you couldn’t even break away for a second of air, so lost in him that breathing was no longer important.

And then the Precinct door banged open, and you jumped away as though you had been electrocuted. You laughed, cursing quietly as you tried to smooth your hair, tousled from his hands, while he just smiled, gazing at you.

“Spencer!” You whisper-shouted at him, still grinning uncontrollably, and he finally moved, straightening his shirt and placing his jacket over his lap. You giggled like a school girl, standing and moving to the whiteboard to try and convey a more believable working situation, and to put some distance between you and him, not sure how well you’d be able to hide your smile if he was so close to you.

You still jumped when Rossi opened the door to the room, although, you were more surprised when he didn’t speak. You turned to him, confused, and he pointed at Spencer. When you followed his eye line, you realised he was pretending to sleep, head slouched to one side and mouth slightly parted. He looked beautiful.

It had been six months, and you were stronger than ever. You honestly weren't sure how you were still keeping it a secret. You had had years of practice when you were just pining after him, sure, but it was a hell of a lot harder to not give anything away when every time you looked at him, you got flashbacks to the night before. Even if the team somehow did suss out a vibe, no one said anything, which was something you were grateful for. Spence was a lot better than you at masking his feelings, so anyone who noticed something probably assumed you just had a crush on him. Which was true enough.

You had managed to avoid looking at him the entire briefing, which was honestly a miracle, but your mind was ever so slightly distracted by your rendezvous in the copy room. As JJ spoke, you heard something about male victims, and she might have mentioned Tennessee, but all you could think about was that travel meant your date night plans were cancelled. And you were always cautious in hotels - too close to your other colleagues. It was hit or miss; sometimes, the fear of it was fun, the idea that someone could knock and catch you in the act, but if you had adjoining rooms with any of your teammates… well, them hearing you scream his name might just be a bit awkward. So, naturally, all you could think about now was finishing what you started earlier. You wanted this meeting to be over, to get him somewhere private and to let him completely wreck you before the long plane ride, to get this idea out of your head so you could focus on the case at hand. And then, at last, came the magic words…

“Wheels up in 20.”

The team dispersed quickly, and you caught Spencer’s sleeve just before he left the room.

“My car?” You muttered, earning a grin.

“Change your mind, baby?”

“Shut up.” You smiled. “I’ll meet you down there…”

“What’re you doing?” You practically whimpered, as he opened the passenger door instead of joining you in the backseat. He chuckled.

“Just making space.” You were about to ask what for, when he deftly moved the seat forwards, before getting in the back. Oh. You grinned as he pressed his lips to yours with hunger, backing you into the corner and you let yourself be dwarfed by him. His fingers trailed your collarbone, to your waist, and gripping onto your thigh with urgency. You whined as his lips left yours, earning another soft laugh. He managed to fit his tall frame mostly in the footwell, pushing your skirt up to your hips as you bit your lip, admiring him. He was so beautiful, the way his hair fell over his face, his earnest eyes, almost pleading in the way he looked up at you, his long fingers that so deftly moved your panties to one side.

“Can you…” he muttered gesturing to his hair, and you giggled, hand running through the front locks and holding them away from his face. Your leg draped over his back as his head dipped, tongue going straight to your folds, lips circling your core and kissing your sensitive bud with a hum of contentment. Your body relaxed into him, moan escaping your lips. He’d always been enthusiastic about eating you out, and you’d never complained about it. He was good. Really good. And today was no different.

He was lapping you up, relishing every taste and you were getting closer to your orgasm with every circle around your clit, cunt clenching around nothing.

“Spence…” you managed to gasp out, writhing in the seat, “fingers…” He didn’t hesitate for a second, one of the hands firmly holding your thighs apart trailed down to your centre, two fingers slipping into your soaking core. Your groan was filthy as he found that spot that made your toes curl with such perfect precision it was blinding.

“Oh god Spencer…” you choked out between moans and pants… “baby I’m so close…” Your hands tightened in his hair, pulling him closer, and he groaned into you, sending a wave of pleasure through you that sent you over the edge into that searing hot pleasure you were so used to receiving from him. He held onto you as you rode it out, his tongue still circling you until you were finished, finally stopping when you started to whine and squirm from overstimulation.

“Fucking hell, Spence.” You muttered, as he gently returned your panties and carefully let your skirt fall back around you. You watched in awe as he quickly licked his fingers clean, but it was mostly pointless, as his lips and chin were covered in your slick. You giggled.

“You might have to rinse your face before you join the team.” He grinned, pressing his lips to yours with force, and you could taste yourself on his tongue, making you hum into him.

“Now you will too.”

After a quick clean-up in the parking lot toilets, you both joined the rest of the team, entrances tactically staggered. For once, you couldn’t help but look at him, stealing glances as much as possible, watching as his hands scanned pages as he read and all you could think about is what those hands were doing to you just minutes earlier.

When you started looking into the case, you would be focussed, fully invested, but… you just wanted to stay in this headspace a moment longer. A happy one. A scary one still, for sure, but a fun kind of scary. A hopeful kind of scary. It was peaceful. And peaceful moments were rare in your line of work. His eyes caught yours, sending you a soft smile, and you knew you were in for the long haul, no matter how many people you had to lie or, or how much time you had to hide it for. It was all worth it for the moments of peace with him.

Taglist 🩵 - @emma-e-a

[luxaofhesperides]

“You know, I never realized how true the ‘eyes are the windows to your soul’ thing was until I saw yours.” + fluff + cafe AU ; requested by @kiv1!

He’s sure Danny didn’t expect to see him every other day after he casually mentioned that he had gotten a part time job at a local cafe. However, as his friend, it is Duke’s moral duty to only get coffee from that shop while Danny is on shift, specifically to annoy him. 

Also, so he can support his friend, but being annoying takes priority.

It’s a routine now, for both of them. Danny clocks in for his shift and an hour later Duke is strolling into the cafe with his eyes locked on Danny’s. The rest of the baristas always shove Danny up to the register when they see Duke, taking over whatever order he was making. Even some of the other regulars turn their attention up to the counter, hoping for another few minutes of entertainment.

Danny sighs as he gets ready to input Duke’s order. It’s never the same one, because Duke would hate to be predictable and make things easier for Danny, but it has the side effect of making him realize that some of the expensive, seasonal drinks are really good. 

It’s a bit hard on his wallet, but it’s a price he’s willing to pay for teasing Danny. 

“Hey,” he greets cheerfully as he leans against the counter, grinning at Danny.

Danny sighs again. “What can I get you today, random customer that keeps bothering me.”

“A latte, but make it sweet somehow. And iced.”

“What size would you like?”

“Let’s go with medium today.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah.” Duke leans closer to Danny, watching as he fights down a smile. “I just gotta say that you got gorgeous eyes. You know, I never realized how true the ‘eyes are the window to your soul thing’ was until I saw yours.”

Danny considers this for a moment, then shakes his head. “It kind of sounds like your trying to steal my soul through my eyes.”

“Why is that what your mind goes to?”

“Well. I watched Coraline last night.”

Duke stares at Danny, taking in the dark circles under his eyes. “...Didn’t you say that movie gave you nightmares as a kid?”

“Yeah! And it turns out, it gives me nightmares even now!”

“And ruined my pick up line,” Duke complains playfully.

“It was too cheesy anyways,” Danny replies, putting Duke’s order into the screen. It prints a moment later, no doubt with some bizarre name since Danny refuses to actually name Duke on his orders, and then recites the price. 

He pays and watches as Danny slaps the order onto a medium sized up, then tosses it over to the barista making the drinks. He’s not actually sure what her name is since she refuses to wear a name tag, but she always gives him a wave and also a rating of how good his pick up lines are.

“Seven out of ten!” she calls out to him today, then gets started on making his drink.

“I don’t see why you don’t flirt with anyone else,” Danny says, “I’m pretty sure my coworkers like your pick up lines even more than they like me.”

“Why would I want to flirt with them? Danny, I’m literally only here to bother you.”

Danny rolls his eyes. “Yeah, trust me, I know. My good looks just keep pulling in business.”

He says it like a joke, but it’s true. Duke has noticed it. Danny’s coworkers have noticed it. His manager noticed it and now has him out on the floor every shift. If they can get him to work on the chalkboard sign outside, or wipe down the two tables out front, then they do it, because Danny is Midwestern to his core and it’s very charming in a place like Gotham. He smiles at people as they walk by, happily answers their questions when they ask him what the cafe serves, recommends food and drinks for them, is generally a bright and nice person to everyone who comes near the cafe. 

His cute looks draw people in, then his personality makes them stay. 

It’s all customer service, of course, because Duke never gets the cute, sunny Danny. He’s left with the sarcastic, rude, and funny Danny that’s been his friend since they met in junior year of high school. 

“Your eyes are really pretty, though,” Duke says, “Very blue. Sometimes green. It’s no wonder people keep falling for you!”

Danny reaches across the counter to shove Duke away, but he’s blushing, so Duke is counting it as a win. “Shut up. Now you’re just lying. My eyes are never green.”

“Yes, they are. Danny, I’ve seen them multiple times. They’re green sometimes.”

“No? My eyes have literally only ever been blue. They’re the bluest blue to ever blue. They don’t just turn green.”

They squint at each other for a long moment, trying to figure out who’s wrong and in what way. Duke’s pretty sure Danny’s wrong, since he can’t exactly see his own eyes, and Duke has spent an embarrassing amount of time just admiring how nice they are in different kinds of light. But also, they are Danny’s eyes, so he should know what color they are.

Then Danny’s coworker is setting down Duke’s drink on the pick up counter, giving Danny an excuse to get back to work.

“One medium oatmeal cookie iced latte for Cornelius Aggravating Douglas.” He holds up the drink and makes very direct eye contact with Duke, holding out the drink towards him.

“Did you really have to make the initials ‘Cad’?”

“Yes.”

“Fair enough,” Duke says, making Danny crack a smile. 

“Are you heading out after this?”

Duke grabs a straw and sticks it into his latte, swirling it around some. “That was the plan, yeah. Got a few library books to pick up. Why?”

“I got approval for a half shift today, so I’m off in like ten minutes, if you wanna wait for me.”

“Hell yeah, dude! I’ll wait outside so I don’t distract you with my flirtatious winks again.”

“Get out of here,” Danny laughs. Duke lifts his drink in a quick toast, then gets out of there. He takes a seat at one of the tables out front, content to just people watch as he slowly sips his latte.  

It’s cloudy out, but not raining, which is always a plus. As much as he’d like to see the sun, these kinds of days aren’t so bad, either. The wind still carries a bit of a chill, but the spring is steadily warming things up. There are tons of people out, a constant rush of movement, but a few do catch sight of him, then look towards the cafe, their steps slowing down as they think. Most keep walking, but Duke does manage to get a few to go in just by taking a long sip of his latte to really enjoy it.

Really, he should be getting compensated for the work he’s doing to draw people in. Danny’s not the only one who can do it. 

Bruce keeps offering him money, so he doesn’t need to get paid, but maybe he can convince the other employees to talk Danny into accepting one of his pick up lines so they can go on a date one of these days. 

It’s become a bit of a joke, but the first time Duke used a cheesy pick up line on Danny, he was being absolutely serious about it. He definitely shouldn’t have used a pick up line he found from a website centered on relationship advice, but he panicked and needed some extra help. 

Instead of smoothly asking Danny out on a date, Duke froze up, blurted out the pick up line, then had to laugh it off with Danny and pretend it was a joke. 

He still wishes he was able to ask Danny out properly before, but he’s also glad that they got to spend more time as friends, getting to know each other. It’s easier to be with him now, no longer so tongue tied and flustered. 

Duke gets to fluster Danny now, which is much better. 

And maybe one day his pick up lines will work! Sooner or later Danny’s going to question why he keeps doing this, and then he’ll connect the dots and understand what Duke feels for him.

As it is, he has yet to connect shit. 

“My eyes are definitely blue,” Danny says as he walks out of the cafe, messenger bag slung over his shoulder. “I checked while I was putting my apron away.”

“You’re still on that?”

“They’re blue.”

Duke gestures for Danny to come closer. He complies and leans down, letting Duke cup his face in his hands. He checks, considers, then checks again, and says, “They are indeed blue.”

“Told you they weren’t green,” Danny says smugly, pulling back. 

“And I said they were green sometimes. Now clearly isn’t one of those times, but they do turn green!”

“I don’t think you should be allowed to say any eye-related pick up lines until you admit that you were wrong and didn’t know my eye color.”

Shaking his head, Duke stands up and pushes in his chair. “Just wait, I’ll catch it sometime and prove it to you.”

“Sure, whatever. Don’t you have library books to get?”

“Yeah, you coming with?”

“Obviously. Why else would I leave my wonderful job where I am left alone to make drinks in peace?” Danny knocks his shoulder against Duke playfully, then reaches over and steals his drink right out of his hand. He takes a sip, makes a pleased hum, and drains half of what was left in the cup. 

“Hey!” Duke moves to take it back, which is naturally the exact moment Danny takes off running, effortlessly dodging everyone else on the sidewalk. He takes off after Danny, using his powers to make sure he can move out of the way of anything or anyone who gets in his path. 

They’re past the block when Danny starts to slow down, taking another sip of Duke’s latte. 

He puts on a final burst of speed and all but tackles Danny into the mouth of an alley, reaching for his cup. “Gotcha!”

“No!” Danny wails dramatically. He takes a step back and Duke watches as his power kicks up again, showing him a vision of Danny stepping on an empty can and falling back. Except he doesn’t really fall back? His foot rolls back on the can for a second, then goes through the can and settles back onto the ground where he catches his balance. Through the entire three second fall, Danny’s eyes are a bright green, brighter than Duke’s ever seen them.

His vision fades away and he moves to catch Danny, taking the chance to watch carefully as Danny’s foot does indeed go through the can. He quickly brings his gaze up to Danny’s eyes, which are green, but not inhumanly bright like they were in his vision.

Is the green not perceptible to normal humans?

He can probably only see it due to his powers. Which means he somewhat inadvertently outed himself as a meta.

Whoops!

Might as well just bite the bullet.

“Hey, do you have powers?” 

Danny chokes, shoving Duke away as he coughs and tries to clear his throat. He looks panicked, wild-eyed, searching for an escape route. “What? No. Why would I have powers? Maybe you have powers, have you ever considered that?”

“I mean. I do have powers. That’s why I’m asking.”

“Hold up. Stop talking. You have powers?”

“And your eyes are green sometimes.”

“That’s. No, they’re not,” Danny lies. It’s a very bad lie, seeing how on edge he is, and as much as Duke hates making Danny feel like that, he did get some bad habits while training with Bruce and this is one of them: the need to keep pushing, chasing after clear answers regardless of what the cost is. 

Duke shrugs, taking a sip of his latte, down to its last few mouthfuls, acting casual. “If you say so. But my powers don’t lie, man. As much as I wish they would, sometimes.”

“...Can we not do this out here?” The defeated tone Danny speaks with makes Duke hate himself. But he needs answers now. He needs to know if Danny is like him, if he’s safe, if he needs help. He needs it more than he needs Danny to like him at all. 

“Sure. I know a few quiet places we can talk.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Danny mutters. “Did my eyes really give it away?”

“Yeah. I mean, to be fair, I also didn’t realize until literally right now, so I don’t think anyone else will figure it out just from staring into your eyes.”

“See, this is what happens when you keep flirting when you don’t mean it. Secrets get pulled out into the open and it’s bad for everyone!”

Duke lightly punches Danny’s arm, trying to lift the mood. “Hey, who said I didn’t mean it?”

“What?”

“Who said I didn’t mean it when I flirt with you?”

Danny blinks at him, confused, then says, “I mean, no one I guess. But it’s pretty obvious?”

“I only flirt with you, you know.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Duke says, trying to ignore how his voice shakes slightly. “There’s another one of my secrets. Can we call it even now?”

“Oh!” The shock of the revelation distracts Danny from his earlier nerves. Which is great, because now Duke is the one who’s nervous. It’s worth it, though, seeing the pretty blush come to bloom on Danny’s cheeks. “So all those pick up lines—”

“Yeah.”

“And the pick up line made you realize my powers!” 

“These pick up lines are doing the most,” Duke agrees. And then he realizes, “Hey, you what this means? I was right! Your eyes are windows to your soul!”

“I’m going to hit you,” Danny says, already winding back for a solid punch. He lets Danny hit him since it’s only fair for the stress he caused; as a meta, Duke knows how important secrecy is, how the difference between life and death can be just how well his powers are hidden. 

“Are we even now?”

Danny considers him for a moment, then sighs. “Yeah, I guess. Let’s be done with this for now, okay? Let’s go to the library.”

He refuses to entertain any conversation about powers or Duke’s feelings for him. It’s nice to spend time with Danny, but by the end, Duke is sure he can feel his heart start to crack in half. A sleepless night awaits him when he gets home, moving past his cousin’s attempts to talk to him in favor of flopping face down onto his bed.

But the next day, Danny grins at him when he walks into the cafe. He doesn’t have a new pick up line, choosing instead to act as calm and casual as possible to give Danny some space.

Also breaking routine, Danny insists on personally making Duke’s drink, writing something onto the cup before he fills it up with a floral tea. 

You’re so fine, you made me forget my pick up line, is scrawled on the side of his cup when he gets it. 

“Enjoy your drink, Cutiepie the Third,” Danny says with a shy smile.

“The Third?” Duke repeats, relief making him feel lighter than air, “Who are the first two?”

“Don’t worry about it, cutie. Get to class!”

Duke lets Danny chase him out, and holds in his laugh when he hears Danny’s coworker screech, “What was that?!”

Yeah, they’ll be fine. In the meantime, Duke needs to see if apology pick up lines are thing. Danny definitely deserves one.

[lizbetlovesbyler]

ex milkvan ride-or-die shipper and i am convinced the majority of modern day milkvan shippers are people who didn’t watch the show until it became super popular in 2022 when s4 was coming out.

like, there is a difference between binging all four seasons of a show and having years of wait between each one.

the time between each one gives you time to reflect on what you might see next season. as a milkvan truther after watching the first 2 seasons of the show in 2018, i was super excited for season 3 because we could see mike and eleven finally be together after their sweet reunion in the s2 finale.

and then…they literally break up in the first 2 episodes 😭

all my expectations flew straight out the window. i remember sitting there like “oh…wait what?” not necessarily disappointed (probably idk i was like 13) but super confused. even when they kissed at the end i hated it because it was just such an awkward kiss omdsssss😑

fast forward 3 years then i’m 16 and in a lesbian relationship and milkvan is just not hitting any spots. can’t remember what my expectations were for them, but i hated their reunion and didn’t have high hopes for them after that. (high hopes looked at the “i love you” scene, laughed, and left forever)

it was after vol2 was out and marinated when i started to see byler for what it was, because much like milkvan itself, each new season broke down all the expectations i had for them whilst byler only thrived.

binging all four seasons completely in one go strips this kind of trial and error experience away from you, you’re less likely to have grown accustomed to the writing and predict what will happen next time. (not suggesting bingers who joined in 2022 and post cant have picked up on byler too, it’s just a bit more difficult for the average person so pat yourself on the back if that’s your experience)

hence why i see so many new milkvans claim s5 is gonna be the season where they’re finally the power couple we thought they’d be back in 2018…and they weren’t.

“they’re gonna get married and 🤫 and have superpowered babies!”…what in the muthr fokc?

the only power they ever had was the power of heteronormativity

still love their pairing, but they’d be so much more powerful as friends like they were in the beginning

[arieslost]

certified haters | ln4

summary: you and your boyfriend hate valentine’s day.

word count: 634

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

if there was one thing you hated more than the stupid groundhog that could hardly ever predict the season changes properly, it was the so-called “holiday” that followed a couple weeks later: valentine’s day.

when you started dating lando, you made it perfectly clear that you refused to celebrate such a dumb, performative day. you’d expected more pushback considering how clingy and doting he was before the two of you even made anything official, but to your surprise he’d launched into a whole rant about how much he hated it too.

“i don’t need a specific day on the calendar to show you how much i love you,” he’d concluded, sitting back down on the couch and pulling you into his arms. “if you don’t know that every day of your life, then i’m doing something wrong.”

that was why, while other couples were being sappy and having breakfast in bed or something, you were more than happy to be freezing your ass off at silverstone as your boyfriend prepared to get behind the wheel of his 2024 car for the first time.

you honestly couldn’t imagine doing anything else— lando had seemed a bit hesitant when he asked you to come, like he thought you’d say no, and watching his eyes light up when you enthusiastically agreed was better than any valentine’s day gift.

you rubbed your hands up and down your arms to try and bring some heat back to your skin. lando, always so attentive, noticed immediately.

“are you cold?” he asked, and didn’t even wait for your response before he was putting his helmet down and shrugging out of his mclaren jacket. “put this on. c’mon.”

“no, lan, it’s fine—” your argument was pointless as he gently put your one arm, and then the other, into the sleeves of his jacket before zipping it up.

“can’t have my valentine freezing on me,” he could hardly get through his sentence without giggling, and it morphed into true laughter when you smacked him with an oversized sleeve. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry!”

“get out of my sight, norris.” you rolled your eyes, reaching for his helmet and shoving it into his chest.

“ready?” one of the engineers asked as he handed you a headset, and lando gave a thumbs up in return, flipping his helmet over as he walked toward the car.

“oh, wait!” you called out before he could put it on. “i almost forgot.”

he already knew what you were going to do before you did it. it was tradition; you always did this before he got in the car, no matter what. he closed his eyes and puckered his lips cutely in anticipation as you ran into his arms and kissed him.

“good luck, have fun, don’t die,” you said, smiling as he mouthed the words along with you.

it was what you had said before the first race he brought you to. you’d tried to come up with something profound, but you were so nervous that those six words came out instead. now you say them every time.

“i love you,” he pressed another kiss to your lips, and then your forehead. “i love you, i love you, i love you.”

he donned his helmet and climbed into the car as you put the headset on, stepping back so the engineers could do the final preparations on the car.

right before he drove out onto the track, he stuck his arm out of the car, formed a sign with his hand, and waved.

i love you! you knew he couldn’t turn around to look, but you signed it back.

you and lando hated valentine’s day, but the two of you were just as sappy with each other every other day of the year— why should today be any different?

note: this was fueled by my own hatred of this silly little day and i wrote this on mobile (thus the lowercase) in maybe two hours. the title ended up being more ironic than i thought it would be; i wish lando was my valentine and this got fluffier than i’d planned. hope u enjoyed!

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @architect-2015 @maddie-bell @athena-artemis-dorian-gray @noreri @bwormie @alltoomaples @maximoffsimp @peargaslyyy @alicedebate @esserenorris

[lokisgoodgirl]

Changing Seasons: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (1) A long journey with Thor, Steve and Loki ends in a ramshackle country cottage. But really, it's just begun. (w/c 3.8k) Warnings: Minors DNI. Language. Ex-Loki. Smut references. Humour/Mild angst. Recommended Folklore Track: The 1

This is fine.

It’s just five days. In this...cottage. With your ex. You’ll barely see him.

The tiny two story building sat before you, twisting wisteria claiming rough stoned walls. Burnt orange leaves sparked against the morning chill, rooted into windowsills and crumbling brickwork.

It was small. Really small.

You stretched your legs, observing Thor waddle from the car, laden with suitcases.

One fell.

“Watch that!” Steve snapped, on his last nerve after the drive from the Essex compound. A hand flew to his neck, massaging the twinge caused by six hours squashed in the back of a hastily acquired hatchback. “Your collection of personal toys, Rogers?” Loki drawled, letting his mirth-filled eyes slide between the two men. “Yes, brother do be careful. We wouldn’t want the captain to be without an outlet.” Steve’s face flushed, while Thor staggered valiantly onward to the cottage door. “I still don’t understand why we didn’t take the train,” Loki muttered with a theatrical sigh, a single brush down the front of his suit making every well-worn crease evaporate. “The two of you on a train,” Steve spat incredulously, “wouldn’t be great for subtlety.”

Every syllable was laden with frustration as he heaved another case from the trunk. The god nodded. “Even I must admit, this is much more entertaining Rogers” he replied, motioning towards the cottage at the exact moment Thor’s forehead smacked against the low awning.

The suitcases fell in predictable succession. “Jeepers criminey-” Steve gasped, lunging forwards.

You rolled your eyes, smiling just Loki glanced backwards. A wolfish grin ignited. Shit. With narrowed eyes, he began to glide around the Fiat like a day-walker. His hair was slicked back, falling over the shoulders of a black suit more appropriate to fashion week than training in the wilds of the Lake District. You’d tried not to look at him much on the way here. For obvious reasons. He swaggered with resolute precision, infuriatingly erotic as he always was. It was sick, how he looked so good. Like he hadn’t been in the same car as the rest of you, gorging on jelly babies and squished krispy kremes foraged along the motorway. You had practised for this moment, and to your credit; your face remained perfectly straight. Your posture, casual. Unbothered, as Steve and Thor argued further up the path.

‘My slacks were perfectly folded in New York. If there is any rumplage Odinson- then I’ll know who to blame.’

‘Carry your own damn suitcases, then-’ ‘-I would’ve, if you hadn’t been such a dandy-show-off’

You spun away from your incoming ex, steadying your racing heart as you focused on the horizon. Mist hung over the rusted treeline, green and sienna twisting together and dipping down to a sprawling lake about a mile away, you reckoned, spread against the sunrise. Loki’s playful scathing broke the calm. “You haven’t said two words to me in almost twelve hours, Agent,” he purred. “I’m impressed.” There was a time that kind of talk would have brought you to your knees. But not anymore, you lied to yourself, clenching. With your eyes still lowered, you tilted your chin towards him. Defiantly, slowly, you raised them; catching his inscrutable stare like a rifle’s scope. You raised your eyebrows expectantly, lips sealed. Loki scoffed, looking into the distance. His breath was fog. “I don’t know what else I expected,” he muttered quietly.

You stood in silence, backs turned to the domestic carnage unfolding at the cottage door. Letting your gaze roll over the mountains. Early morning autumnal air stung the back of your throat. Fresh pine and wisps of smoke from unseen chimneys, far away. Amber hues spindled along the surface of the lake a mile below, rippling methodically. You fought the urge to look at him.

His eyes would look beautiful in this kind of light. Always had. “It reminds me of home,” he murmured wistfully. It sank into the crisp air, the softness of the tone you still dreamt about curling around your body like smoke. Loki’s scent mingled with the breeze, reminding you of nights spent wrapped around him as you slept in snatches. His hand never far from your own. His love draped over you like a cloak.

A shiver ran down your spine.

You felt him lean in, the warmth of his breath against your skin drawing closer before it retreated. “Asgard,” he added condescendingly. “Although, Asgard isn’t quite as...rustic.” He lifted a foot, making a show of wiping a sole on the wet grass.

You grit your teeth. It never ended. He couldn’t help himself, even after everything that had happened between you. The snake tightened inside your belly, unfurling and poised to strike; regrettable words bubbling behind your teeth. “Let’s just get through this week, shall we?” Loki snapped, before turning away. The crunch of twigs beneath his retreating footsteps was all you heard as the chill stung your eyes. Just the chill.

"I carry the paraphernalia so I shall be first across the threshold thank you very much,” Thor grumped, jostling Steve from his path and shuffling sideways through the frame. Steve grimaced, nodding at Loki to follow his brother. “Thank you,” Loki said curtly; noting the captain’s gaze flicker to where you stood overlooking the lake in a valiant attempt to remain mysterious. “She’s quite well,” he added presumptively.

Steve frowned. “She was quiet on the drive. Even let Thor play his music. Not like her” he said, leaning against the cottage wall before recoiling. “Urgh, it’s damp.” Loki chuckled. “Of course it is. Welcome to the northern hemisphere, Rogers. What you need, is some leather” he winked.

He watched the captain pat his shirt fruitlessly as a stain blossomed through the pale cotton, clearing his throat softly. “She’s still a little...put out... by our parting of ways. Can’t blame her, really. I mean-” He gestured to himself with a consillatory sigh. “She’ll warm up-”

Loki cast a glance around, realising he wasn’t sure if the hallway was colder than the exterior. “-metaphorically, anyway.”

Steve nodded sagely. “To everything there is a season…” he mused. Loki frowned, turning away. He waved a dismissive hand. “You know I do not traffic in colloquialisms, Rogers” he scoffed with his back turned. Entering the kitchen, Loki immediately bumped his shin on a discarded suitcase. He wrinkled his nose.

A single lightbulb hung from the ceiling, barely illuminating the cramped space. Ageing wallpaper clung valiantly to its charge, whimsical ducks and geese parading in an inexplicable march. Thor stood hunched over the sink, running spluttering water into the world’s smallest kettle. The ceiling was inches from his head. “Tea, brother?” he chirped. Loki nodded, wondering how the hell they’d ended up here. “Rogers?” he enquired innocently. Steve’s head popped round the doorframe.

“Howdy!” Loki closed his eyes and took a breath. “Rogers,” he repeated. “Remind me why this week is truly necessary?” Steve released a forced chuckle. “I’ll get to that. Hang tight.” He disappeared, shouting your name down the path. By the time the two of you returned, Loki had seidred the suitcases to their respective destinations. He had secured the largest room for himself, of course. Although that wasn’t saying much. Rogers and Thor would be sharing. Loki had the sneaking suspicion that was not the plan – but alas for them – it was their new reality.

Four mismatched mugs of steaming tea sat on the small square table in the corner. Loki sat in one chair, legs crossed. Thor in the other, looking decidedly squashed.

Steve closed the kitchen door while you leant against the counter-top, arms folded. “I made tea,” Thor smiled, pleased with himself as he held it forth like an offering. You accepted. Loki noted the shiver that shook your shoulders as the hot mug entered your cupped grasp. A fleeting smile of pleasure skating across your cheeks. He’d missed that, he found. “Please, take my s-” Loki started, beginning to rise. Habit. “I’ll stand,” you replied curtly. Loki nodded, sinking down. An uncomfortable silence filled the room as an oblivious Steve squinted suspiciously out the window while closing the blinds. “Alrighty then-” he said, turning. His enthusiastic glances bounced to each of them in turn. Thor adjusted himself, rewarded with the malevolent warning creak of a chair leg.

“As anyone who was listening during our meetings will know,” Steve paused, staring at Loki, “it’s come to my attention that our manual outdoor skills are somewhat lacking. Anything happens to our abilities or comms while we’re on a rugged mission and booyah,” he made a burst with his fingers, “pardon my french – but we’re up crud creek without a paddle.” Loki scoffed. “Hardly-” “This week we’ll be getting back to basics. You two-” Steve gestured between the gods seated at the withered dining set, “especially. It’s all magic and brawny shenanigans until you need to skin a rabbit.” He looked to you warily, “Metaphorically, of course. Our resident expert will give us instruction, and we’ll go from there-” Steve nodded to you, folding his arms. Loki rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you understand how magic-” “No weak links.” he continued, un-phased. He had his very serious face on. “And I count myself in this too. We need to be confident that if something happens, and we’re out in the wilds...we can handle ourselves. Survive, until help arrives.” “But why here?” Loki whined, “we have the facilities to simulate the environment back in-” Steve held up a hand. “No one can know earth’s mightiest heroes are out here learning outdoorsing 101, Laufeyson. Imagine the press. No.” He shook his head. “This is absurd,” Loki muttered into his tea.

“Let’s try and have fun. At the very least, it’s a week in the fresh air.” Loki’s eyes rose, your words and tone clearly rehearsed. There was a weak smile on your face, but it didn’t reach your eyes. He’d become intimately acquainted with that look in the final months of your relationship.

Silence hung in the kitchen. “And the two of you will be alright, will you?” Thor boomed, stretching a leg which reached halfway across the floor. He took a sip of tea as Steve’s face went pink.

“I mean, with the breakup. Although I suppose its better than being kept awake by the ooo’ing and ahhh’ing through the walls, isn’t it Rogers?” He began to chortle, “remember...remember in- where was it? Oh, Columbia. Norns, what a-”

“-Brother,” Loki snarled. Hair bristled on the back of his neck. You cleared your throat. “Loki and I have an understanding. There’s no animosity between us-” “Isn’t there? News to me,” Loki mumbled petulantly, running a finger across the plastic table cloth. He could almost hear the grind of your teeth as you spoke pointedly to Thor. “Well I intend on remaining professional. I’m sure your brother is the same.” Loki shook his head, snorting. “Professional?” he spat incredulously. “What need have I to be professional? I am a god.” “And there it is,” you began, temperature rising before Steve patted down the air.

“How about we go check out the bedrooms?” he said. Everyone murmured agreement. And somewhere between Loki cursing his temper, and the babble of his brother’s half-hearted apology- you were gone.

Ten minutes later, Loki found himself staring at the same spot on the wall he had been for the last eight. It was meditative almost. On the other side of the wall at the end of his bed, was your room. Small, rectangular. Barely space for more than the single bed. But Loki had a feeling you didn’t mind.

You had settled on the mattress around seven minutes ago after unpacking, the comforting creak of springs alerting him. What were you doing, he wondered. Thinking. Feeling? He shook the thought from his mind, reminding himself that was no longer his business. But the thought crawled back with the vengeance of a dying wasp. If we were together still, I’d have made her climax twice on this bed by now.

His clothing hung in a drab single wardrobe. When in Nilfheim, he’d surmised. The garments were simple, and perfunctory. All manner of base layers and fleece lined items in vapid shades which lacked even a morsel of style. Not a sniff of leather. And zips in the most unflattering places.

Loki shuddered.

His ears pricked as he heard a wooden board in your room creak, tracking the slow amble of five steps it took to cross the floor from end to end. She’s looking out the window, he mused.

‘Get your hands off my undergarments,’ Thor’s voice was crisp and menacing through the wall to Loki’s left. ‘Well, put them in a drawer like a gentleman.’ Steve snipped in response, barely muffled by the stone. ‘There are no drawers! Why must we reside in such a place, Rogers!?’ He has a point, Loki thought. ‘Because no one would expect it.’ Steve replied smugly.

There was a pause, but Loki could hear the thump of Thor’s boots as he rounded the twin beds, positioning himself for attack. His voice was low, and purposeful. ‘Just like you won’t expect...this.’ The inhuman sound of one of his brother’s legendary farts ripped through the wall.

Loki braced in the silence that followed, relishing the craft of his devious room organisation while Steve, he presumed, got some traction to exit through the window. ‘Jeepers,’ came the choked, disbelieving response of the captain through the wall. Jeepers indeed, Rogers, Loki smirked.

A sudden tinkle of restrained laughter perked his ears. It came from behind the wall in front of him. He froze, savouring each lilting rise and fall as you gave in to full-blown cackle. Wait for it.

He held his breath. You snorted. Loki grinned, letting himself bathe in the warmth of that laughter which used to lace his brightest moments. The nights, when you met after long days apart. He remembered when he would tickle you beneath his sheets in the Tower. When he would slide his hands over your squealing, curled form in apology, crawl on his knees beneath the covers and gently part your legs.

‘I just can’t help myself,’ he’d purr, kissing the smooth skin of your inner thigh. ‘Forgive me?’

And you always did. Until you hadn’t. You would rake your hand through his hair, lovingly humming his name as he ran his tongue up your plump slit; settling in to his long, languid worship. Loki sighed. He looked down in his lap, realising a thumb was digging into the palm of his clasped hands. He pushed it in harder, frowning. Fool.

Suddenly the door flew open. A red-faced Steve gripped the door-frame, breathing heavily. “Swap...with...me,” he gasped. Loki shook his head, heavy with feigned sympathy. “Afraid not, Rogers. Look, I unpacked and everything.” He pointed to the wardrobe. “Like a gentleman.”

Steve’s face flushed deeper, hanging his head in resignation. “Gosh-darnit,” he sighed under his breath. “Be downstairs and ready in five.”

A chorus of Blackcap birdsong fluttered and rolled over the bushes. Final frostings of morning clung to crisped leaves, slowly warming in the blast of breath-fog from three Avengers huddled around a large map. You watched with an amused smirk on your face, laughing inwardly that Steve thought a wardrobe full of Trepass could disguise their presence. Like three bears at a piglet’s tea party.

Thor held the compass, squinting. The rectangular instrument looked much like a stick of gum in his palm as he leant closer to the dial, searching for some unseen clue. You decided to have mercy.

“So you can see here,” you said gently, tracing your finger over the map, “to get to the lake we need to follow a bearing of 79 degrees….and we need to adjust for true North. Remember?” You moved the compass slightly. “Blast,” Thor growled. He was taking this very seriously. A bobble hat was pulled low on his brow, but even then, you could tell he was frowning. Loki chuckled derisively, smoothing a strand of inky hair from his jawline. You watched as it curled behind his ear. His beautiful, perfectly formed ear. “Volunteering for the next marker, Loki?” you asked calmly, watching his smug smirk fall. You switched back to Thor, now measuring points on the map diligently. Steve stood by his shoulder, taking notes on a small pad. “A-ha!” Thor shouted triumphantly. A dozen birds took off from the nearest tree, fleeing skyward.

Steve frowned. Stealth, it chided. The blonde god whipped his face to you in childish glee. “This way!” he pointed theatrically. You nodded, bathing in the pride spreading across the god of thunder’s face. It was Loki’s turn to frown. “Give me that,” he snipped, snatching the compass as Thor began to fold the map and lead the charge towards the next marker. “You’re just jealous brother. Clearly my skills of navigation are unmatched. Isn’t that so, Agent?” he postured loudly, clearing a branch from your path. It wasn’t often Thor truly had the upper hand. So you decided to push it a little higher. “Out of the three of you so far? Absolutely.” You beamed at him, seeing storm-clouds gather in Loki’s eyes out the corner of your own. His brows knitted together, chin pushing down into the thick roll of his scarf.

Thor hummed as you passed beneath his arm. “I always liked you, you know” he chuckled in hushed tones. Clearly, he’d seen the abject annoyance blossom on his brother’s face too.

You nodded conspiratorially, casting a glance back at your dejected ex as he picked his way over a patch of brambles, hands deep in his coat pockets. Steve followed behind, flicking through the pages of his pocketbook.

“Meh, it’s good for him,” you said diplomatically while shooting Thor a toothy grin.

He returned it.

Loki took each step carefully. He would be damned if a tangle of barbed shrubbery bested him the same day as his oaf of a brother.

He wouldn’t have gotten it without her help, he fumed; stepping quickly over a freshly steaming pile of suspicious pellets. His nose wrinkled, glancing up to where the two of you were sharing a moment. Blatant favouritism.

Gritting his teeth, his jaw nuzzled further beneath the coiled wool around his throat. A smile lit up your face as you shared some sort of inside jest with his brother. Loki remembered, all too well, how you used to look at him that way. How it was to bathe in the warm of your affection, the comfort of your hallowed inner circle.

He tried not to let his mind wander to your inner circle too much. The immediate twitch of his cock beneath the ghastly slacks was a timely reminder why. Steve’s shrill caw of warning came too late. “Watch your-” Loki froze, snarling as his eyes fell to the foot now wedged in a pile of shit. “How appropriate,” he sighed as he reluctantly pulled it free. He began to wipe it on the ground. “Just wipe it on the ground,” Rogers said. Loki's stare was daggers as he continued to do just that, cursing the Norns as you began to walk towards them. “What’s the hold up?” you said. Loki raised a hand to stop Steve from speaking, but alas.

“Laufeyson stepped in poop.” “Thank you, Rogers. I’m sure our ‘resident expert’ can see that.” Steve crouched down to his haunches, inspecting the boot-imprinted pile. “Looks like deer poop to me,” he observed diligently. “What do you think, Agent?” “Could be,” you said, matching his serious tone. “Nice spot.” Loki felt his jaw slacken.

What portal has opened and swallowed me to this unending nightmare.

He wiped the defiled heel of his clumpy, tan boot a final time, before marching up the ridge. He should be first. He had the compass, the ultimate instrument of inter-planetary survival, apparently. “Broth-” he started, before rocking back on his heels. “What is your problem?” he heard you hiss as you yanked the back of his jacket. Loki whipped round, every snippy retort that hovered on his lips evaporating as he saw your flushed face; wild with undisguised irritation. Steve was bumbling slowly up the hill, oblivious. “I…” Loki breathed, resisting the unfamiliar urge to tell the truth. You were still gripping a toggle that dangled from the back of his jacket. Loki looked at it, pausing a moment before refocusing with renewed vigour.

“I shouldn’t have to do this. It’s ridiculous, and you know it.” “Well why are you even here? Why don’t you just bugger off at a moment’s notice like you always do? Go whine to Heimdall or something?” Loki heard white noise bubble deep in his mind, rising to a roar as his vision tunnelled to the sight of your pupils blown wide with anger; lip trembling ever so slightly as you valiantly stood your ground. There she is, he thought with bizarre satisfaction. “Because I wouldn’t want to give the impression I’m not a team-player, would I?” he snarled through gritted teeth. You released your grip on his toggle with a scoff. “I’ll believe that when I see it. If you can last the whole trip, I’ll-”

“-You’ll what?” Loki heard himself say. The tone, he noted, was dangerously flirtatious.

You eyed him suspiciously.

“-I’ll be am-azed. The prim prince of Asgard, hacking it for a week out here. It might be good for you.” You see-sawed your palm. “But you know...low expectations.” Loki’s eyes narrowed as Steve emerged hovering over your shoulder. He suddenly reminded Loki very much of the geese parading on the kitchen walls. “I assure you, Agent, I shall pass your tests with flying colours.” He forced a smile. It hurt his cheeks in the cold. A little bow followed. A little flourish of his hand. He paused, baiting you. “I look forward to you proving me wrong, then,” you sniffed, re-adjusting the straps of your backpack.

Your eyes caught his a little longer than you’d intended.

Loki’s gaze fell to your lips, beginning to chap in the unforgiving English chill. How he wanted to capture them with his in that moment, moisten them with his breath and tongue and fiery adoration. To warm you, take care of you. As he should have when he had the chance, perhaps.

At the time, Loki wasn’t sure why - but nonetheless he held out the compass to Steve. “You take this one, Rogers.” “Alrighty then!” the captain quipped obliviously. His knees pumped up in a farcical jog down the ridge towards Thor, having an in-depth conversation with a passing sheep.

“Alrighty then,” you mimicked to yourself with quiet smile. Meeting Loki’s amused gaze, the smile fell. And without another word, you set off down the hill.

The god watched you pick your way gracefully over the autumnal landscape, breeze whipping your hair. He brushed his own from his eyes, pausing to reluctantly admire the rugged peaks and cliffs that curled in on their path. Burnt orange mingled with green, a rolling wave of seasons trickling through the vale. He could feel it all around him; through him – seeping beneath his skin, whether he willed it or no.

Change.

Chapter Two: Sticks and Stones A/N: Thank you so so much for reading this - if you did! I'm having so much fun with these bunch and I'm very excited to share this kind of ridiculous journey with you :) There won't be as many POV switches in subsequent chapters - we just needed it in this one. As always - love love to hear your thoughts. Gooooo Autumn!🍁

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[writing-for-life]

Sandman Sneak Peek Analysis

There is Brief Lives in this, but you’ll miss it if you blink…

Is everyone recovering? 🤣

So we obviously got our fill of thirst traps, but I wanted to analyse the sneak peek (click to watch) a bit more closely.

Many people were commenting they only see Season of Mists and Song of Orpheus in the clip, but I don’t think that’s true. We obviously don’t know what exactly they did to the arcs and what might have changed, but I still predict that the first batch will be Season of Mists and Brief Lives (with other stuff thrown in, I wrote about it here). [I think we also saw a clip from Thermidor in the sneak peek, and that Lady Johanna Constantine was in it, but that just as an aside.]

So let’s start with stills I think are definitely from

Brief Lives

I honestly think it’s this (they’re lighting his face from below for a campfire effect, there are candles etc):

Edit 22/09:

We sleuthed a bit more across several platforms, and some clever people pointed out this:

These two frames appear in different places of the sneak peak, so we can’t know for certain if they are from the same scene. It is possible though. And if they are: He is wearing his ruby on the one to the left. It’s hard to tell if it’s the same thing to the right, but it could be? If so, that would mean this could be from Song of Orpheus instead of Brief Lives.

He does wear a clasp in Brief Lives all the way through, so that’s also possible, but again: If these shots are from the same scene, which it honestly looks like, I’m now leaning towards Song of Orpheus, and this particular scene (there’s a fire there, too):

Plus, if you zoom in and squint really hard, he seems to be wearing something on his shoulder here, too:

What else?

We see Despair’s Realm. But we don’t in Season of Mists. So this is either Brief Lives, or they give us a bit of Three Septembers and a January (which I’d love tbh, but I’m not going to hold my breath).

Next:

I think this could be Ruby’s/Wanda’s death/the fire. It’s really hard to see, but that could be Indya Moore sleeping? Let me know what you think…

Then this one:

I bet my bottom dollar this is Suffragette City and Ishtar’s dance. Now, the bottom panel is a tricky one because in the sneak peek, it’s actually right after the shot of (presumed) Wanda, so my initial response was it’s the fire. But the curtains look exactly the same as in the one with Ishtar’s dance, plus I think the glass is also in both shots. Which makes me think they either just put those scenes randomly together in the clip despite them being separate, OR that they changed the arc a bit and pulled Wanda/Ruby and Ishtar’s dance together. Either way, we’re definitely in Brief Lives I think.

Over to…

Season of Mists

I cackled like a lunatic when I saw this. IYKYK, but I somehow didn’t expect them to give us that one. Hurray (or not, depending on whether you like spiders I guess 🤣)

Angels looking modern…

Shame really, I wouldn’t have minded a more comics accurate look, but hey. Also: Is that your man Edward, @marlowe-zara ? Hard to tell from this angle, but I think it could be?

That’s also Andre Flynn in the background (also an Angel then).

Shivering Jemmy with the balloon! 🎈 If she doesn’t dump it on Dream, I’m gonna riot!

These ones with Lucienne are hard to place, and they could be anything, but they somehow give me stronger Season of Mists than Brief Lives vibes, although both is possible.

I have a hunch it’s this one:

Then there’s naturally all the obvious stuff (Cluracan, Susano-o-No-Mikoto, the family dinner etc etc), but I don’t think I have to get into those because they jump out at us straightaway.

More in the realm of

Casting

I think that might be Ella Rumpf as Eurydice, @tickldpnk8 What do you think?

This is definitely Wil Coban, but who he? Fae (the ears suggest so much)?

So what’s everyone thinking?

[emptyultimatum]

SWEATER WEATHER

Avenger AU Loki x fem!reader In which Loki and his girlfriend (you) clash cutely over weather-appropriate clothing.

Loki raised his arms above his head, the shoulders in his scarred back rippling with muscles. His shirt lay on the floor, stripped off and sweaty from his work out. Facing the window, admiring the view of New York, he groaned as he stretched, pulling, reaching. Crrck, pop, crack! 

“Ah, that feels better,” he sighed, rolling his shoulders to settle them. He shook his black curls out of his bun, pulling the hair tie onto his wrist absently. “Darling, where are you?” 

She slid into the room, beaming absurdly at him, arms spread wide. “Look at my sweater.” 

It was July, and a heatwave was rocking New York with a vengeance. Signs sagged in the heat; cars were dangerous to the touch; the sun bounced off glass buildings with such aggression, Loki felt as if his eyes were being burned alive. Thank Odin for sunglasses, which he wore regularly. 

And despite this all, his girlfriend decided to buy a sweater. An overlarge, shapeless, lumpy grey sweater, which had sleeves so long they flopped over her hands like bunny ears. 

“You can’t be serious,” Loki said, staring at the sweater. 

She grinned. “I’m so serious. It’s so comfy.” 

She did look comfy. Absurdly comfy, in fact. The kind of comfy that winter and hot chocolate and fireplaces heralded. And the way that the tops of her thighs stuck out from the bottom, round and plump… He felt a strong urge to pull her onto the bed and cuddle into her for the next week or so. 

But then Loki remembered the hundred-two degree high they were predicted to reach today. 

“Take it off,” he said. “You’re going to melt.” 

“Tony can pay for AC,” she waved him off, bouncing to the thermostat and cranking it low. “Ahh. I love it.” 

He gave her a disbelieving chuckle. “You’re utterly ridiculous. It’s the height of summer, darling, and you bought a sweater.” 

“That’s the best time!” she argued. “Off-season sales! I got this for thirty bucks.” 

“Thirty bucks?” 

“The original price was fifty-eight,” she said stubbornly. 

Loki prayed to his mother. “At least put it in storage until the proper climate arrives.” 

“That’s in months,” she waved him off, sweater sleeve flapping. “I wanna wear it now.” 

“Of course you do.”

“We should make hot chocolate. I’m in a hot chocolate mood.” 

“Naturally, in summer, hot chocolate is a must-have.” 

“And watch Frozen!” 

“This must be some sort of joke,” he pleaded. “What insanity drove you to this? It’s a damn ninety-eight degrees!” 

She cackled. “I like sweaters.” 

“You don’t even wear them!” Loki cried. 

“Now I do!” She climbed into their bed, snuggled under the covers. The AC was properly blasting now, sending cold gusts of air down his sweaty, post-gym skin. She patted the space beside her, smiling up at him. “Come cuddle. It’s cold.” 

“And they call me the Mad One,” he muttered, climbing into the bed. She giggled, putting her arms around him, snuggling him into her chest. 

“Perfect,” she sighed. 

Perfect indeed, Loki smiled into her sweater, feeling its soft fibers tickling his cheek. She was warm, soft, and plush. The perfect place to rest his head, to ease his worries. 

They lay silently together, hearts beating in sync, the summer sun gleaming through their window as the AC pumped cold air into the room. She sighed, pleased, snuggled in her sweater. 

“We do have a mission brief in a few moments,” Loki murmured. 

“I know,” she said. 

“And you’re going to wear the—”

“I’m going to wear the sweater.” 

Loki hid his smile in her chest. “We’d best alert Stark, then, so he might prepare the room temperature for you in advance.” 

“How considerate,” she smiled. “You’d do that for me?” 

“Darling, I’d freeze the world twice over if you wished for snow.” 

She beamed at him, pure and unabashed joy. “Well, it’s a good thing I only want you.” 

Loki’s heart fizzled, his skin tingling with the closeness of her. 

“And hot chocolate,” she added. 

He laughed, and brought her in for a kiss. 

[agenderelf]

It’s 5am, in a warehouse, in Te Aro (10:00pm in my bed but who’s counting) and I’ve finally finished watching all of Fantasy High Junior Year! I’ve loved this season so much, and I have at least 4 other unfinished sketches, but this idea came to me one night and it simply had to be drawn. Now, before anyone comes at me for not making Kristen The Moon, I have reasons! Namely, the star represents hope after tragedy, coming directly after The Tower in the major arcana, and something about that just feels so right to me so ye.

Anyway, this drawing is a love letter to the show, it’s helped get me through a Bad Time (I’m still in that but still) and I just want to make more art to show my love. I also tried some funky lighting stuff with this, not sure I love it but it’s good enough!

Also, little fun fact about me: I collect tarot cards, and got very into doing readings until I did multiple readings that predicted disaster and loss that fully came true and I have not done a reading since. Still love the cool cards though

[dovesdreaming]

Chasing the calm

Summary: Boone and reader are complete opposites yet they compliment each other in every way

Request

Masterlist

Warnings: none

-

Boone was a force of nature. Not in the way that a tornado was but in the way he approached life. Every day was an adventure, every moment an opportunity for excitement, and every challenge a chance to prove that nothing could bring him down. His energy was infectious, his grin a permanent fixture on his face, and his voice carried through the storm chasing headquarters with a vibrancy that rivaled the wind itself. And then there was you. You were the calm in the eye of the storm. While Boone thrived on adrenaline, you found solace in the numbers, the data, the intricate patterns that made sense of the chaos. You could sit for hours, pouring over weather models, programming algorithms that predicted the unpredictable, all without a word. You needed the quiet, the solitude, the focus. Boone was a wildfire; you were the gentle, steady rain. It was a wonder to anyone who knew you both how the two of you had ended up together.

“Hey, babe! You gotta see this!” Boone’s voice boomed across the room as he burst through the door, clutching a tablet with the latest storm report. You didn’t look up. “Boone, I’m working” you replied, your tone measured, not unkind but firm. Your eyes remained fixed on your screen, numbers and graphs reflecting in your glasses. Boone bounded over anyway, dropping into the chair beside you with the enthusiasm of a golden retriever. He leaned in close, too close, his breath warm against your ear. “C’mon, just take a look! This supercell’s got the potential to be the biggest one of the season! We gotta get out there and see it in action!”. You sighed, finally turning to meet his sparkling eyes. “And by ‘we,’ you mean you want to drag me out of my perfectly quiet, controlled environment to chase another storm with you?”. He grinned, completely unbothered by your lack of enthusiasm. “Exactly! It’s gonna be awesome!”.

You stared at him for a moment, then shook your head with a small, affectionate smile. Boone was relentless, but it was part of what you loved about him. His energy, his passion. It was everything you weren’t, but maybe that was why it worked. He was the spark that kept you from getting too lost in your world of data. And you, in turn, were the anchor that kept him grounded when his excitement threatened to send him spiraling. “I’ll think about it” you said, knowing full well that Boone would be back to ask again in five minutes if you didn’t give him a definitive answer. He beamed, leaning in to press a quick, soft kiss to your cheek. “You’re the best, you know that?”. You hummed in response, trying to suppress the warmth that bloomed in your chest at his touch. “Just let me finish this analysis first, okay? We’ll talk after”. Boone hopped up from his seat, still buzzing with energy. “Deal! But don’t take too long, we’ve got storms to catch!”. As he bounced out of the room, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly to yourself. Boone was a lot, and sometimes it was exhausting just trying to keep up with him. But as you turned back to your work, you realized that your heart felt lighter, your thoughts a little less heavy. His excitement was contagious, even when you tried to resist it.

The hours passed, and before you knew it, Boone was back. He was quieter this time, almost tentative as he approached. “Hey” he said, softer now. “You ready?”. You looked up at him, at the boyish excitement still lingering in his eyes, and felt the corners of your mouth lift into a smile. “Yeah, I’m ready”. The two of you headed out to the van, Boone practically bouncing as he drove, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel in time with the music blasting from the speakers. You let your head rest against the window, the rhythmic thrum of the engine a comfort as you watched the landscape blur by. It wasn’t long before the sky darkened, the telltale signs of a storm brewing on the horizon. Boone’s energy shifted, his excitement now laced with focus as he started navigating the roads with practiced precision.

“See that?” Boone pointed out the windshield, his voice hushed with awe. “That’s gonna be one hell of a storm”. You nodded, your analytical mind already processing the data. But even as you did, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Boone. The way his eyes lit up, the sheer joy he got from the chase, it was a sight to behold. “You really love this, don’t you?” you murmured, more to yourself than to him. Boone caught your words and smiled, reaching out to take your hand. “Yeah, I do. But you know what I love more?”. You raised an eyebrow, waiting for the inevitable cheesy line. “You” he said simply, squeezing your hand. “I love that you’re here with me, even though I know you’d rather be back in the lab. I love that you’re willing to put up with all this crazy because you know how much it means to me”.

Your heart skipped a beat, the sincerity in his voice catching you off guard. You squeezed his hand back, feeling that familiar warmth spread through you. “You’re worth it” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Boone’s grin was as bright as the lightning flashing in the distance. “You know, I think we balance each other out pretty well”. You nodded, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder as he drove. “Yeah, I think so too”.

As the storm raged outside, you found a strange sort of peace in the chaos. Boone was your storm, wild and unpredictable, and you were his calm, steady and unwavering. Together, you made sense of the madness. And in that moment, as the thunder roared and the rain poured down, you knew there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

-

Thank you for reading!!