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Hi love! For your tortured poets department, can I request endgame from the reputation album, lando being the driver please please 🙏
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END GAME | Lando Norris
Lando Norris x Friend with benefits Piastri!Reader
SUMMARY: You were used to have random hookups just for fun, including with Lando Norris himself. It's not until he decides to lock both of you up on his driver room and talk about your weird relationship that you don't realize that, deep down, you're willing to settle down your mind and start a dating him ↳ REQUESTED: Yes! Thanks for requesting and hope you like it 💖 Part of REPUTATION in MY TORTURED DRIVERS DEPARTMENT
WORD COUNT: 2745
WARNINGS: Slightly +18 at the end (sorry for leaving it there ☺️), mentions of friends with benefits, spelling with multiple people, angst, curse words
VEE'S NOTES: Haven't written Lando in a very, very long time, so hope you like this one! University and my mental health are killing me but you know what? Writing is what keeps me going (and specially your comments have been a boost of serotonin for me lately). Also... the 2k special is already living rent free in my mind and I can't wait to achieve the goal to post it 😭 I wanna give spoilers now so... you know 🤓 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST
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© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!
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"You finally decided to show up at a race. I was starting to think you only liked having me naked in your bed behind your brother’s back."
You smiled at the screen, playing with your fingers as you thought how could you answer Lando. Your relationship was based purely on sex, moreover sexting, with barely any real conversations whenever you met, moans and orgasms speaking for you both instead.
You had never felt the need to go beyond that, to involve feelings in your relationship, or at least that’s what you had made clear to Lando before sleeping with him the very first time. You also let him know that, besides him, there were other guys with whom you had no commitments whatsoever.
However, it was with Lando that you spent most of your time. The others were nothing more than a safe escape, an easy way out when the Brit wasn’t around.
"Be grateful that I even came," you finally replied. "And don’t flatter yourself. I came to see my brother, not to make you come before a race."
You hesitated, wondering if your reply was harsh enough to keep him from getting any ideas and, more importantly, to stop him from insisting on meeting up. You weren’t sure how, but you wanted to end that strange relationship before it spiraled out of control because, whether you wanted to admit it or not, you had started to feel something for him.
Yes, just a few weeks ago, you had one of your usual encounters with a friend of one of your best friends. But everything fell apart when, right before reaching your climax, you couldn’t help it: you moaned Lando’s name instead.
That was what made you question what exactly you felt for Norris and why the label of friends with benefits seemed to be fading away.
"Don’t play dumb, Piastri. See you at the motorhome. You know exactly where."
You huffed. Of course, you knew exactly where you’d be meeting. After all, ever since your brother became a Formula 1 driver, you had visited his teammate’s personal room more than Oscar’s.
With a sigh, making sure neither your mother nor your sisters were nearby, you got up, grabbed the plastic cup that still had a bit of coffee left, and walked with as much determination as you could muster toward McLaren’s motorhome, finishing your drink along the way.
As you walked, mentally preparing a script in case things got tense with Lando, you greeted the people you knew, or at least those who knew you as Y/N Piastri. Lewis was genuinely happy to see you and even stopped to chat, but you excused yourself, saying you had already made plans. Fernando gave you a knowing look, as if trying to figure out what exactly you were about to do with a certain driver.
Even your brother crossed paths with you at the entrance to McLaren’s motorhome. You managed to lie to him, partially, saying Lando had asked you to take a few pictures of him before the race.
Oscar gave you a strange look, then rolled his eyes, offered a small smile and told you to enjoy whatever it was you both were about to do.
You said nothing, but you knew your twin brother well enough to realize he already had a pretty good idea of what you were up to with Norris. Not that you tried too hard to hide it.
When you reached Lando’s room, you didn’t even have to knock. The door opened instantly, revealing a slightly tired-looking Lando with a cup in his hand. His race suit was already on but zipped only to his waist, leaving the top half hanging loose. His team cap was still on, though it didn’t last long since he took it off and tossed it aside within seconds.
He grinned from ear to ear, like he had been waiting for you with far too much anticipation.
"Come in. Make yourself at home," he said with that mischievous tone you were so used to hearing, though something about it felt slightly different this time.
You walked inside without hesitation, crossing your arms and ignoring him, except for the occasional sideways glance to see if he would do or say something before you did. Unfortunately, he didn’t.
"If you wanted a quick fuck before the race you could’ve just said so, you know?"
"I don’t think today’s the best day to fuck you and let everyone hear," he replied. "At least, not yet. Today, we’re going to talk."
"We don’t talk, Lando," you shot back, feeling an internal alarm go off. "And when we do, it’s just to ask about the safe word of the day, what we want to do to each other, and how close we are to coming."
"Well, maybe it’s time we started talking, don’t you think so?"
His answer took you completely by surprise. Your gazes remained locked on each other, and you felt the atmosphere grow tense.
For the first time in a long while, there was no excuse you could use to avoid that conversation with Lando. Maybe the fact that you had been ignoring him for the past few weeks was enough to make him realize that there was a chance—however small—that things had changed between you two.
You took a deep breath, trying to calm the growing sense of unease settling in your chest. Lando kept looking at you with that same intensity he always did, except this time… it was different. It wasn’t the first time you found yourselves in a situation like this, where there were a thousand unsaid things hanging between you, waiting to be voiced. But it was the first time, at least on your part, where feelings were involved beyond pure physical desire.
"I don’t think there’s anything to talk about," you said as nonchalantly as possible, but your tense posture betrayed you.
Lando set his cup down on the table beside him. Then, he sat on the edge, crossing his arms again, and reached for your hands only for you to pull away and take a step back.
"I think you know exactly what we need to talk about," he replied calmly. His voice was lower than usual, and you felt the heat grow between your legs. You shook your head, feeling guilty and doing your best to push away that sudden, but familiar, awakening in your body.
"You’ve been avoiding me, Y/N. And don’t tell me you haven’t, because you were in Monaco and never called me to meet up… to see each other," he added, his voice laced with something unreadable. "In fact, we usually sext almost every day, and you didn’t even bother to tell me what new lingerie set you bought for when you came over."
"I didn’t tell you I was coming to Miami either."
Your reply, rather than making you sound indifferent, exposed you completely. Lando raised an eyebrow, as if he had caught you red-handed. That was when you realized you had seriously screwed up.
"I haven’t been avoiding you, Lando. I’ve just been busy," you insisted.
"Busy? You mean busy by ignoring me?" He scoffed, ironic. His expression turned much more serious now, and you started to worry about where this might lead. "Tell me the truth, Y/N. What’s going on? What’s happening with you?" he emphasized.
You averted your gaze, pretending to take interest in the room’s decoration, a room you already knew by heart. You knew you couldn’t keep dodging the topic, but you also had no idea how to confront it without changing everything you had so far. It was impossible to put into words what you felt for Lando, not when your relationship had always been purely physical. And especially not when there was a real chance you were just confused… and, well, you couldn’t forget the possibility that he might only see you as his hookup.
"Nothing’s wrong," you finally responded.
"I thought we were always honest with each other," Lando sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair.
You felt your throat tighten. It was hard to breathe. You had been honest, at least when it came to the unrestricted desire between you, to touching each other without attachments, to seeking comfort in one another without questions that went beyond your wildest fantasies. You had avoided anything personal.
But now, you were slowly breaking the unspoken rules that had kept you in perfect balance until this moment.
"I’ve been busy, Lando, and the last thing I wanted was to deal with you, alright?" you insisted, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "Things should have stayed the way they were until, according to you, I started ignoring you."
"No, Y/N, things aren’t like that," the Brit denied, shaking his head. He stepped closer, cornering you against the wall. "If you don’t want to face something because you’re afraid of rejection, just tell me. But, for fuck’s sake, don’t act like I did something wrong, because you’re killing me."
"Lando…"
"Stop insisting that nothing is happening between us, when that’s exactly what makes me think the opposite."
His confession caught you completely off guard. His words—clear, direct, and without a hint of sarcasm, threw you off… especially because you knew he was right.
You felt the urge to run, to disappear, to pretend none of this had ever happened. Most of all, you wanted to deny yourself any romantic thought you had ever had about Oscar’s teammate.
When you lowered your gaze, Lando moved back slightly, giving you space and making sure he didn’t overwhelm you more than you already seemed to be. You sighed, trying to relax once again, but before you could say anything, he spoke first.
"Tell me nothing’s wrong between us, Y/N Piastri," he said softly. "If nothing has really changed, if everything is the same between us… dare to look at me in the eyes and say it."
Your chest tightened. You couldn’t run away, not when Lando had you emotionally cornered, teetering on the edge of an explosion. Your breathing was unsteady, heavy. Your mind screamed at you to find an excuse, anything that would let you stay true to yourself regardless of what happened next.
Lando waited, unmoving, his blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you tremble for the first time in your life—without him even touching you. It was the first time he had shown himself to you like this: so vulnerable and yet so determined at the same time.
"Nothing is wrong between us, Lando Norris," you finally whispered, forcing the words out, ignoring both your heart and the boy standing in front of you.
"Say it again, but this time, look me in the eyes."
He didn’t move an inch. He knew you were lying; your posture gave you away—the way you avoided his gaze, the way your fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt and your accreditation pass…
You squeezed your eyes shut tightly. You had no choice… at least, not entirely.
Lifting your gaze, you met his blue eyes once again. Your lips parted slightly, ready to try and let out a lie convincing enough for both him and yourself.
But it was impossible. You couldn’t keep doing this, not when, deep down, and no matter how hard you tried to deny it, you felt something more than just pleasure for Lando Norris. The fear of rejection… it terrified you. The thought of him turning you away, of losing what you had with him, was unbearable.
"Lando…"
"You don’t have to say it if you’re not ready," he interrupted. "But please… stop pushing me away. Stop making this to us."
"It’s just…"
Nothing. No matter how much you tried to explain yourself, to find a logical enough reason for your sudden ghosting, you couldn’t.
"It’s just what, Y/N?" the Brit pressed. "Are you afraid to take a risk? To admit something because you’re scared of what might happen next? Because you don’t want to change the life you’ve had until now? Because you want to…?"
Lando forced himself to stop. He ran his hands through his hair, exasperated, turning his back to you. Guilt hit you immediately, your body trembling as the storm inside you began to break free. The driver rubbed his face, frustration radiating from him. This was exhausting him. You were exhausting him, to the point where he was starting to doubt his own feelings. Feelings that had started to grow the moment he realized it hurt when you ignored him, when you didn’t even send him a simple "Hey."
"I wish this were different, Y/N," he finally murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he turned to face you again. "I wish you didn’t make me feel like this. I wish I could just be content with what we had before and pretend none of this was happening…"
Your stomach twisted painfully. That was exactly what you had been thinking, the very reason you had pulled away from him and from whatever this was. You had ignored the fact that your feelings for Lando Norris had become something much stronger—maybe they had been there for far longer than you were willing to admit.
"Lando, listen" You tried to step closer, but he pulled away.
"No, Y/N, no," he said bitterly. "I tried convincing myself there was a reason you were ignoring me, acting like I was nothing to you, and then it hit me that I really want you as more than just someone to fuck."
"That…" you struggled to say, stepping toward him. This time, Lando didn’t stop you. The sincerity in your eyes, the way you looked both calm and nervous at the same time, made him realize he had to trust his instincts. And that was exactly what they were telling him.
"That’s what I wanted to tell you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, but Lando still heard you. "That’s why I kept you on standby for two weeks… I knew this would change everything, that you’d react badly, that we’d end up fighting, and I… I didn’t know how to face the possibility of you rejecting… this."
Lando stared at you in surprise before a sad smile crept onto his lips.
"Y/N… I’ve always been good at reading signals, but this has been driving me fucking crazy."
"And you think it’s not been making me feel the same?" you shot back, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.
Lando stepped closer, taking your hands in his. You didn’t resist, feeling how the both of you tensed at the contact. His lips inched toward yours, and when they finally met, the kiss was so fierce, so full of passion, that you ended up straddling him on the couch, moving against him, desperate to feel him. Even though you both knew there was still a race in two hours.
"I don’t want to touch you like this, Y/N," Norris whispered against your ear as you left small bites along his neck. "Y/N, stop it babe…"
"I don’t wanna be just another ex-love to you, Lando…" you murmured between kisses, still searching for friction between your bodies.
"And I don’t wanna miss you like your other lovers do, babe…"
This time, Lando gripped your waist firmly, flipping you onto the couch beneath him. His eyes never left yours as he carefully lifted your shirt and started massaging your breasts over your bra.
"I wanna be your end game, Y/N," Lando breathed, unable to tear his gaze away from you.
Your breath came out in shallow pants, and you felt like you were teetering on the edge. Your hands gripped the unfastened gear around his waist, tugging lightly to keep him close.
"Then prove it."
"I have a race in two hours, love…" he murmured, his voice rough as he pressed his forehead to yours, his arousal growing.
"Then you better be quick," you teased, running your hands over his abs beneath the fireproof. "Especially if you don’t want Osc to hear us…"
"You’re gonna be the death of me one day, Y/N Piastri," Lando groaned as he trailed his fingers up your thighs, lowering himself before you. "Now, open your legs for me... You deserve a punishment after being such a bad, bad girl these past few days…"
#f1#formula 1#lando norris#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x yn#formula 1 smut#f1 smut#lando norris one shot#lando norris x yn#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#lando norris smut#lando norris angst#lando norris fic#ln4 x reader#ln4 fanfic#f1 imagine#my tortured drivers department#reputation
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EXACTLY
especially because I have now been subjected to the very mind numbing idea that people leave kudos for different reasons
me personally - I leave kudos as a way to say "good on you for being brave enough to post your fic". because I know that even just the act of putting yourself out there and posting a fic is hard. if I get to the end of a fic and I didn't necessarily like it or love it, I still leave kudos. even if get halfway through reading a fic and don't feel mentally engaged enough to finish it, I will still scroll to the bottom and leave a kudos because I think the author deserves a pat on the back for going through the effort of writing and posting a whole ass fic
(so I leave kudos on pretty much every single fic I read because if I liked the tags and summary enough to open the fic and start reading it, then I will leave a kudos on it)
but some people (apparently) don't leave kudos on every single fic that they read because they think kudos should only be reserved for fics that you absolutely love and think are utterly amazing
some people leave kudos on a fic if they liked it but didn't think it was likeable enough to comment on
so now authors are supposed to discern if kudos means "this fic was only okay-ish" or if it means "this fic was fucking amazing and I loved it so much" - when I have always thought it means "I acknowledge that I read the entire fic and got to the bottom of it. it was readable enough to sit through. good job for posting" and then if the fic was actually amazing, people would comment on it
(and I think this also goes along with the fucked up tiktok idea that you 'should' be filtering fics by highest kudos - so that if people 'hold back' their kudos for only fics that they loved, then only 'the best' fics will show up when you filter by highest kudos)
I really don't understand how "without getting kudos or comments a fanfiction author is going to assume that people who clicked their fic didn't like it" became a controversial take.
I don't know why some people think an author should imagine, or guess that people who click their fic enjoyed it it when nobody is telling them that.
If you're re-reading a fic constantly, or leaving it up in your tab so that it re-loads every day for a hundred days the author is not going to know that unless you tell them. They'd love to hear it. It would make their day.
And if you don't tell them you liked their fic, there's no reason for them to assume you did.
#and like I have noticed that I have been getting A LOT LESS KUDOS LATELY#because people seem to be holding back kudos#they hold it back unless they think the fic was PHENOMENAL AND GROUND BREAKING AND AMAZING#sundrop speaks#fanfiction#fandom#ao3
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thinking about childhood crush sukuna…
iya im telling you rn when i got this ask i jumped out of my bed and thought about this all day and all week
childhood crush sukuna who had been your best friend since elementary. it's a scary part of a kid's life, seriously !! it's the time when social groups are made and lasting connections are formed. and you, inevitably shy and quiet, had lagged behind that flow of making friends. that is, until sukuna abruptly came into the picture
childhood crush sukuna also lagged in making any friends. his stubborn attitude and rough demeanor made it hard for kids to like him. not that he really cared, he's long grown to the odd stares he gets
childhood crush sukuna who defends you against a few bullies teasing and picking on you for being so quiet. he stands in front of you with his arms spread out, brows furrowed as he makes snark comments back at the kids. he's taller than them by a head or two and the mere sight of him makes the brats run off. "you're so pathetic, you know that ?" he mumbles, cocking his head behind him to see you wiping a tear away from your eyes. sukuna scoffs and rolls his eyes and yet, he throws you a tissue and walks off. he hates people like you- those who can't save themselves in dumb situations like this isn't worth his time
childhood crush sukuna who, despite his beliefs in your weakness, had made a silent oath to himself to keep an eye on you on that day. he doesn't even realize he's even made one, but he has slowly fallen into the routine of holding onto your small hands tightly as you both make way around the school and cross the road to get home, his face plush with a pout and pinched brows
childhood crush sukuna who had watched you grow throughout elementary, middle, and now high school, watching you bloom and grow out of your silent shell and make friends of your own while he stayed the same. not that he minds. after all, you're the only one he waits for after school and walks home with, and that's all he needs. what's the point in having someone else with him if you're his day one ?
childhood crush sukuna who has gotten so familiar with your home he practically lives there. your mother says her welcome in her soft, hosting manner (despite constantly asking you just why he has gotten face tattoos) and he sits in the living room, eating whatever snacks you had left out while scrolling through his phone and listening to you ramble about how impossible your math homework has gotten
childhood crush sukuna would constantly deny all allegations of dating you. he's been asked that since his first year, and like muscle memory, he says a flat no. but lately, as the question is continuously brought up, sukuna can't deny the fact that his gaze lingers on your face for longer than usual, peaking behind his phone whenever you're in the middle of one of your rants, and absent-mindedly thinking of you when another girl is speaking to him. no, sukuna doesn't like you. nah, he thinks, he'd rather get punched in the gut than say that
"took your ass long enough." sukuna gruffs, pushing himself off of the wall of the brick school building as soon as he catches sight of you walking out the doors. he's been waiting. he's been waiting this whole time.
with a snatch of your bag, he swings it onto his shoulder and walks beside you. not ahead of you, god, never ahead. you've long earned the title and position to walk beside him, if not that, then slightly ahead.
"sorry, sorry !! got so busy talking to a friend." you hum out a half-hearted apology, knowing there was no malice in his tone. with a roll of his eyes, you and sukuna walk the path you both have taken for years. he's careful to study your steps, slow and carefree- like a tourist taking in the scenery, acting as if you haven't seen it thousands of times. but he doesn't mind. sukuna had grown and adapted to your habits, brushing it off and filing it as another one of your antics.
but today, oddly enough, was slightly different.
today, in sukuna's eyes, you were glowing. like the sun's soft cast as it starts to set just as it hits the horizon, the casual smile on your lips the only thing he could stare, and god ... he knew he was in deep.
there's a crosswalk you both need to stop by when trying to get to the neighborhood. sukuna always lets you press the button in request for crossing. he's more cautious, looking up from his phone for just a few moments until you make it to the other side, and he always fights the thought of grabbing onto your hands, just as he did as a child, the soft, tingling sensation in his hands forced to be warded off by the clench of his fists.
that afternoon is the moment that sukuna comes to the sudden blast and heart dropping realization that he is wholly, undeniably, and unknowingly in love with you. he realizes it on the path you two have taken since childhood and he realizes it through the routine the both of you have established since first meeting. he realizes it with the way you look at him, gently and so full of kindness and love.
#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen x reader#ryomen x you#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna ryomen#atlas writes !
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The Secret of Us (LH43) 1/3
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aka the sequel to let it happen
Pairing: Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader
WC: 21k (oops)
I felt it, you held it, do you miss us? wonder if you regret the secret of us.
General Warnings: angst (lol), a severe lack of proofreading, mentions of injuries, a couple of angsty flashbacks with avoidant behaviour and fade to black type smut
A/N: just want to say thank you guys for liking this so much 💖 seeing all the comments and the messages and people recommending this to others and the sweet things you're all saying (even if I betrayed you lol) made me so unbelievably happy!!! I could never let these two go out like that, I enjoy writing this dynamic way too much, and I also have way too much discussing this fic with people!! shoutout to the let it happen film club lmao!!! I hope you guys enjoy this sequel, and I hope it lives up to LIH, they really are my babies!!
and I know what you're thinking, maggie how could we ever trust you again after let it happen??? you can't!! and you shouldn't!!! but I wouldn't do that to you twice.
or would I???
I wouldn't 😌
OR WOULD I?!?!?!?! 😏
You need to start getting more comfortable saying no to people.
It’s something you tell yourself all the time, that being a people pleaser is going to lead to your downfall - it’s something you’ve always known.
So why you would ever possibly agree to attend a football game with your sorority sisters after weeks of hiding away in the safety of your childhood bedroom, you have no idea. You’ve spent the last 4 weeks alone convincing yourself to grow a backbone, and you’ve only been back in town a week. 7 whole days and your resolve has crumbled to pieces.
And now you’re squeezing yourself through a crowd of sweaty, yelling men to find your seat in the cramped spaces of Michigan Stadium, after already being packed like a clown into the back of your friend Molly’s car, and your head is throbbing, already.
A football game.
You at a football game.
It’s absurd.
Dressed in team colours with a ridiculous yellow M painted on your cheek like you’re some sort of local.
It’s your own version of a living hell, and you can’t wait for it to be over.
“Are you guys always sat this low?” You yell out to Molly as the rest of your friends amble in, surrounded now on all sides with no way out.
“Aren’t the seats, great?!” She yells back, louder than you, causing you to wince a little at the shrill sound in your ear.
The seats are not great, but you wouldn’t be happy anywhere in here.
You can barely even see the field, the sidelines packed with God-knows-who, and your back hurts already, and all you want is to go back to the version of you that was first asked if she wanted to come with. A version of you that should have told Molly straight up that you’d have rather sat at home plucking at any remaining body hair with a pair of pointed tweezers than to come to a Michigan Football game.
“Oh, look!” Molly jumps, and you’re assuming she’s just going to point to her boyfriend, following her finger with a bored gaze. You’ve seen him, before. You don’t need to see him again.
Only Molly’s finger doesn’t point to her boyfriend.
It points to the sidelines - to a group of guys stood with a shorter girl with curly blonde hair.
Ellie’s down there, dressed in team colours, too. She’s stood next to Jack, who’s stood next to Quinn.
And you don’t even need to look past Quinn to know who’s gonna be stood beside him.
It’s way too late to go home, now, you fear.
Not when Molly is digging her phone out and pressing immediately on Ellie’s contact, and you can see the whole situation unfold in front of you.
Ellie never has her phone on silent, and when it rings, it rings loud - a high-pitched, horrific tone that honestly sets off your fight or flight, and you can see the immediate reaction the boys have to it chiming in her hand.
She answers, instantly, and you can hear Molly’s side of the conversation, guiding Ellie to where your group are up in the stands, waving like a lunatic until Ellie finds you all - and, as if your life isn’t bad enough, she then starts gesturing at you.
“Look who I managed to convince to come with!” She yells, still pointing like you’re some circus attraction, and, if you could remember what the ground felt like, too long in the stands, now, that you miss it, you would honestly want it to swallow you up.
Because obviously Ellie isn’t the only one looking.
Jack is looking.
And Quinn is looking.
And you know, once again without looking yourself, that the person beside Quinn now has his eyes on you, too.
The weight of them takes you back in a dizzying flash, and all of a sudden, you’re back in the lake house, sobbing into your hands until you were pulled into the soft embrace of your best friend.
“Hey, you’re crying, what’s wrong?” Ellie cooed as she came over, throwing her arm around your shaking frame and rubbing a hand up and down your back. “What happened?”
“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” you tried through shaky breaths, attempting and entirely unconvincing smile, like it would at all mask the flood pouring down your cheeks, “Go back to your party, I’m just being dumb.”
“I’m not gonna leave you like this,” she told you, “What's going on, is it Luke?”
The mere mention of his name brought back the onslaught of tears, your face scrunching as you tried to hold them back, but it was no use. Every single part of you ached with regret, your throat, your chest, your limbs - and all you wanted to do was curl up and cry it out. “I fucked it all up, El.”
“No,” she reassured you, “He fucked things up, he should never have spoken about you like that, it wasn’t fair. Not if the two of you are into each other, he shouldn’t be saying things like that.”
“He was right, though,” you sobbed, “I’m a mess, I just ruin everything good, I don’t even know why.”
“Aw, babe, no-,”
“I told him I’d go out with Cole. I don’t even know why, I just wanted him to stop trying to make things work, he kept trying to tell me that he didn’t mean any of it, but I know he did.”
“Do you?” She asked, “Want to go out with Cole?”
“No, of course I don’t.” You shook your head, although you didn’t know how obvious it was, especially to everybody else, how little you wanted to be with anybody that wasn’t Luke. “I just want to go back to this morning, before I heard him say any of that stuff.”
“Why don’t you come downstairs, huh? We can find him, and the two of you can try to talk again-,”
“I can’t,” you refused, the thought of trying to communicate your feelings while you looked the way you did - eyes red raw and face all swollen - filling you with anxiety. “Can you just tell people I’m sick if they ask? I know it’s your birthday but I can’t go down there, Ellie.”
“Okay,” she had agreed, although the worry in her eyes made you feel even worse - missing your best friend’s birthday party because you were too chicken to face your feelings?
What sort of friend does that?
“I’ll come check on you, though. And tomorrow, you’re gonna have a serious conversation with Luke, alright? You can’t keep pushing people away, it isn’t good for you.”
“I know,” you sniffled, “I promise, I’ll try tomorrow.”
But trying had been futile. Luke wanted nothing to do with you - he could barely even look your way. He didn’t come downstairs for breakfast the next day, and when he finally did, he turned straight back around. Every time you tried to talk to him, he would shut you down, and by the tenth day of trying, you’d given up, entirely - booking yourself a ticket home, packing your things up one night and leaving the morning after.
The following weeks were spent wallowing back home with your mom - texting Ellie, waiting for him to reach out, even though you knew he wouldn’t. Watching sad movies, staying inside, spending your days alone, while your mom was at work, and trying not to miss him so much.
And coming back to Michigan had only been made easy by the fact that he would be gone - due to go back to training in Jersey, and the two of you wouldn’t cross paths.
It won’t hurt as much, you had thought, if you didn’t have to see him.
But now here Luke is, following Ellie’s gaze as she waves up to you in the stands, stood on the sidelines of the football game you’d only attended to finally get yourself out of the house - still in Michigan, stood at the end of the path you thought no longer led to him.
This might be the first time he’s met your eye in a while, and there’s a visceral feeling that shoots straight through you - your heart falling into an alarming, irregular thump that reverberates through your entire body, and it’s a strange sensation, like the slowing of time, the blurring of everything around you but him.
His arm is held to his front with a sling, and you try to ignore the way your stomach turns at the sight of it. It’s nothing to do with you, he doesn’t want you to care. He doesn’t even want to talk to you, and you don’t want to talk to him, either - not anymore. Not after almost 6 weeks of silence - of forcing yourself to think about anything but him, like you even could.
You offer a tight lipped smile and a wave to Ellie, and try to ignore his presence for as long as you can, try to watch the game, to focus on your friends in the stands beside you - only, he keeps looking back. Craning his neck, surveying the crowd as it fills up just to find you, and your heart starts to hammer in your chest every time you catch his eye.
What happened to him avoiding you at all costs? What happened to ignoring your attempts to talk, the knocks at his door, the pleading, persuasive looks you’d try to give him when it all got a little too much in the end.
Why can’t he just let you slip away into nothingness, like it would be so much easier to do?
Your phone buzzes in your back pocket as you’re trying to focus on the game, the desire to flee growing by the second - cramped and claustrophobic in your seat, dying for a drink and a minute of reprieve away from the crowd, away from Luke and whatever weird telekinetic powers he has on your heart.
Luke: can we talk?
Luke: I’ll be at the closest concessions in 5
You slip your phone back into your pocket without responding, and by the time you look back down to where he had been stood, he’s gone.
You should be relieved.
Maybe if you ignore his message, he’ll stop looking at you.
Maybe this is where it ends, and you can finally let each other go - too far gone to fix, nothing left to say.
Only your legs are now moving, side stepping Molly and the other girls, along with the rest of the people in your row, and your mouth is apologising to those you bump into, and your feet are carrying you down the stairs to where you know he’ll be, sneakers squeaking against the sticky floor as you search for him in the small concessions queue.
He stands taller than most, waiting by the counter, facing the other way, and you take the second that his back is turned to you to reconsider.
Stuck in place, staring at broad shoulders you’d once spent tracing the freckles between while he slept, and wondering which might hurt more - walking away or hearing him out.
He turns before you get the chance to choose, his eyes meeting yours , widening in surprise, as much as they can, considering his current predicament, and he immediately heads your way.
“Didn’t think you’d come,” Luke just about says as he precariously holds onto a plastic cup between his teeth, offering you the one in his free hand - what you assume is diet coke with ice sloshing a little over the rim and onto the already sticky floor.
“Can hardly leave a one-armed man to navigate the concession stand on his own. Not one with your appetite, at least.” Your brows furrow when you notice the distinct lack of snacks in his hold, but you figure he prioritised using what little carrying capacity he had to get your drink. “Do you want me to hang around while you get something to eat? I can hold your drink,”
“I don’t have much of an appetite,” he says, clearer now that he can hold his cup in his hand instead of his mouth. “I’m on some pretty strong painkillers, can’t eat without feeling sick.”
“Oh,” you frown, eyeing the sling that holds his other arm. He had been fine when you left the lake house - and even last week, in Ellie’s story on instagram, he hadn’t seemed injured then. It must be a recent development, and so close to the season, for him to be out in public wearing a brace, it can’t be good. “What happened?”
“Took a pretty bad hit on the ice,” he shrugs with his other shoulder, lips turning down like he’s trying to play it off, “Been telling myself it’s karma.” The way he chuckles is distant and noncommittal, and not at all like all the ways you’re used to seeing him smile or laugh. His eyes don’t squint, his mouth barely turns up, barely pushes those tell-tale folds into his cheeks that you used to press at when he was close enough to do so. Back when being in such close proximity made your heart thump in a different way.
But maybe that’s for the best.
Maybe one of Luke Hughes’ signature crooked grins might have made you do something stupid, like touch him again. You’ve worked too hard to push away the feeling of wanting to for the past month.
“Karma for what?” You ask instead, head tilting to survey the damage, like you’d even be able to see anything through the thick yellow hoodie he has on. It’s better than looking him in the eye, you think.
“For what I said to Cole,” he tells you, the shame that lines his words doing little to alleviate the way they so quickly jab at you, all the memories of that day and that conversation rushing back at you full-force. Memories you’ve worked really hard to suppress. “For hurting you. I probably deserved to get hurt, too.”
“I’d never want you to be hurt, Luke.” You say before you can think better of it, narrowed eyes meeting his finally, watching as they soften slightly, let your words sink in and melt like warm butter, seeping into his every pore and breaking down his hardened exterior.
“Me neither,” he almost-whispers, “For you, I mean. I wouldn’t want you to be hurt.”
You nod, momentarily pressing your lips together, your focus dropping to a patch of lint on his hoody, clenching your free hand into a fist behind your back to save yourself from reaching out to pluck it off.
“Is that all you wanted to see me for?”
You don’t want to be rude to him, but it’s hard, especially when every instinct in your body is telling you to push him away - to keep him at arms length where he can’t pull you back in.
“No,” he utters quickly, his feet shuffling as if he wants to step forward, reduced the metaphorical distance you’re trying to force between the two of you. “I was hoping we could talk.”
You just about save yourself from having your jaw drop wide open.
You’d tried to talk to him last month, before you left, and he had wanted nothing more to do with you.
“In the middle of a football game?” You frown, daring to glance up - taking notice of the panic in his eyes when he reads you like a book, can recognise your retreating form from a mile off, by now.
“No,” he blurts out, “No, I mean later, if you’re free. Somewhere else.”
“I don’t know-,”
“We’re having a barbecue back at the house,” he interrupts, a look on his face like he couldn’t possibly accept no for an answer. “Like an end of summer send-off thing, you should come over, I know the guys would want to say goodbye properly.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you finish your earlier thought, “Besides, your family probably all hate me.”
“Why would they hate you?”
“Because of what happened with us,”
“Oh,” He frowns, “No, they don’t hate you, I promise, not even Jack.”
“I find that hard to believe,” you scoff - when he had helped Ellie move rooms back in the sorority house last week, he could barely even muster a smile to send your way. He hadn’t been his usual stand-offish self, but he had hardly been friendly, either. You didn’t expect laughs and hugs and welcome-backs, but after the two of you had kind of made up back at his cousin’s wedding, and things were finally solid between him and your best friend, you thought some kind of bridge had been built.
Apparently not.
“I didn’t tell them.”
“Oh,” you don’t know whether you feel relieved or disappointed. He can’t have been that heartbroken about the whole thing if he never told a soul, right? Even you told your mom when you got home - granted, she was a whole bottle of rosé deep into the night and seconds from falling into a wine coma, but you still at least acknowledged your feelings to somebody.
What did he do, just bottle all whatever feelings remained up and send them off down the lake? Enjoy the rest of his summer like you never happened?
“I didn’t think you’d want me to,” he continues, “You never really liked me talking about us with other people, so I didn’t.”
“Right,” you nod, biting your tongue to save from throwing out a bitter, thanks. You spent the last month watching heart-wrenching sad movies in your bed all day and he just went about his life like the two of you were nothing That’s fine. That’s cool.
“Ellie’ll be there,” he tries again, like she won’t be attached to Jack’s hip all night and you’ll be left on your own. “And a few of the Michigan guys, if you need a ride back to campus. I’d offer to drive you, but,” he nods down to his arm, “Or you can stay, your room is still free.”
Yourroom. Like you have any claim on any part of his world, still.
“I’ll think about it,” you tell him, because you can’t fully bring yourself to say no to his face. It’ll be easier when you’re back home, later, and can just ignore his texts, if he even cares enough to send any. “I should get back.”
“I can walk you back,”
“You shouldn’t be in a crowd with your arm,” your head shakes and you step back, your body language saying more than your lips even dare. “It’s fine. Thanks for the drink.”
“No problem.” He chews at the corner of his lip as he watches you retreat, like he has more to say.
Despite spending the last month doing everything in your power to wipe your thoughts clean of Luke Hughes, you want nothing more than to hear it - but where you’ve been suffering and relating every pathetic, sad song you hear back to him and fighting every urge to reach out through fear of rejection, he’s been ignoring your entire existence. Repressing whatever feelings he may have had and neglecting any instinct he might have had to reach out, too.
“Promise me you will?” He calls out when you’re a little ways down the tunnel, causing you to turn back to see him in the same spot, “Think about it, I mean. I’d really like to talk to you.”
Your fingers tense at the mere mention of a promise tumbling from his lips, your pinky sending signals to your feet to run straight back to him, practically itching to reach out and link with his. Instead, you nod, eyes darting to the big M that stretches across his chest, easier to look at that and lie than into his hopeful gaze.
“Sure,” you tell him, because you can hardly make a promise you can’t keep.
Not to Luke.
You’re not coming.
Luke realistically knew as much when Ellie arrived on her own - immediately going over to Jack and sparing Luke a glance out of the corner of her eye as she whispered to his brother.
But it’s taken him almost 2 hours to really come to terms with the fact - to stop keeping an eye on the door and whipping his head around any time a newcomer enters the house.
He should have known when you refused to make a promise to him - not like you owed him anything in the first place. Should have known when the few attempts you made at joking around with him like old times, you’d barely mustered a smile - that familiar glint in your eye that shone only for him watered down into a dull gaze you refused to hold.
God, he’s an idiot, he thinks.
He should have spoken to you when he had the chance - those few times you had tried to offer an olive branch, pushing a pre-poured glass of juice his way at breakfast or making space for him on the couch he’s now conveniently slumped on, all alone.
It feels a little like a lost cause now, trying to reignite some sort of spark between the two of you - not when you won’t even hear him out.
He’d felt a bit of hope when you’d met him at the stadium, thinking his text might have been left on read - and even though he’d made the effort to buy you a drink, he hadn’t entirely expected you to turn up.
He thinks maybe that had been the first thing to throw him for a loop - arranging a meeting on a whim and you actually making an appearance. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t form a coherent sentence, or relay any sort of confidence in himself or what he was trying to sell you on.
Maybe that’s why he couldn’t convince you to come.
He can’t blame you - your last 10 days here at the house had been miserable, on his account, and if he was in your shoes, he wouldn’t come back, either. He wouldn’t hear himself out, wouldn’t forgive himself.
The night of Ellie’s party should have been where he drew the line at avoiding you - the initial aftermath of your fight still sizzling, too hot to touch while the both of you were still reeling.
The morning after, he had been hungover - throwing back drinks like nobody’s business just to drown you out - and there was no chance of having a serious conversation, then, even though he had woke up alone in his bed wanting nothing more than for you to be there.
He’d gone downstairs sometime in the early afternoon, ignoring his growling stomach until he couldn’t do it any more , and had trudged into the kitchen only to find you there with Cole.
The bitterness within him fought violently with his need to puke, and he stormed back up to his room, no longer having any sort of appetite, and stayed there for the rest of the day.
The days that followed were no better - avoiding you at every given opportunity, ignoring your pleading eyes, leaving no chance for you to speak to him, despite all the times he could see that you wanted to. He’d leave every room you entered, turn away from every conversation you joined, and the final nail in the coffin was probably the time he ignored you knocking on his bedroom door one night, the soft call of his name feeling like a knife that twisted in his gut.
You were gone the next day - your bedroom door open and the room empty when he walked past, your seat at the table vacant when he came downstairs for breakfast, and he seemed to be the only one who didn’t know. Ellie seemed unbothered, already having moved into Jack’s room, Quinn was drinking the green tea you had bought, that no one else was supposed to touch, Alex probably wouldn’t have cared either way, and Cole was already talking about meeting up with some other girl.
“Wow,” Luke had scoffed, throwing himself into the chair beside Cole’s and sneaking a peak at his phone screen, suddenly feeling a burning need to call the guy out. He was to the entire reason you called things off with Luke, and now he was talking to someone else? “Her bed isn’t even cold and you’re already moving on, huh?”
Ellie had glared at him from across the table, and Jack had frowned too, no doubt wondering why after 10 days of complete silence about the whole thing, he was daring to bring you up now.
“What are you talking about?” Cole chuckled, leaning back in his chair and raising a brow at Luke, who just said your name in response, with a pointed stare. “What about her?”
“Thought you were ending your summer with a girlfriend.”
“Dude, where the hell have you been?” Cole snorted, amused, if anything, “She couldn’t have turned me down quicker if she tried. Man to man, don’t ever follow instructions from that one,” he pointed over to Ellie, “She led me on a wild goose chase all summer just so that I’d help her get her guy.”
“Hey!” Ellie called from across the table, “It’s not my fault you have no game. And I would have gotten my guy just fine without your help.”
Before Cole could retort, spurred on by the way Jack was chucking by her side, Luke frowned, straightening in his chair. “She didn’t want to go out with you?”
“No, but before you say anything, it has nothing to do with my game, alright? She’s into someone else, I guess.”
“Someone else?” Luke’s eyes darted over to Ellie, who just rolled hers in response, turning her attention back to Jack before she excused herself from the table.
“That’s my guess,” Cole shrugged, “She said she wasn’t into me like that, but come on.”
Wasn’t into him?
That wasn’t what you had said to Luke.
“Sorry man,” Luke offered, absentmindedly, head craning to see which direction Ellie left in. “As you were.”
He jogged out of the kitchen and up the stairs, just about catching her before she disappeared into her and Jack’s room. “Hey, wait,” he had called, watching as she let out a heavy sigh and turned to look at him with narrowed eyes. “She turned him down?”
“Did you not just have this exact conversation with Cole?”
“Ellie, c’mon,” he pleaded, desperation creeping up inside - feeling a little too much like guilt, and causing a serious discomfort in the pit of his stomach. “She said she wanted to date him.”
“You’re so unbelievably stupid.”
It didn’t quite hit the same as when you said it, shame washing over him at the way Ellie was glaring at him.
“She heard you tell him that she wasn’t girlfriend material, and that she would just be hard work, and not worth his time. Lucky for you, she didn’t hear the bullshit you said before that.” Regret formed like a heavy ball in his gut, the weight of it almost pushing him to keel over. “She said whatever she had to to get you off her back because it hurt her less to push you away.”
“I don’t-,”
“And you’re the dumbass who just let her do it.”
That’s not fair, he thought. What was he supposed to do, just watch you move on without a care in the world, cheering you on with a stupid grin on his face while his whole heart crumbled to pieces at the thought of you being with anybody else?
“I’m not a mind reader, Ellie,” he tried to defend himself, “I can’t keep pushing at a door that won’t open.”
“My God, do you have a peanut for a brain, Luke?” She had shoved at his chest, “She’s been holding the door open for the last ten days, and all you’ve done is walk past it. She wanted to talk to you, and you wouldn’t even look at her!”
“I wasn’t ready! I thought she-,”
He had thought you had taken Cole up on his offer of taking you out - had thought that’s the conversation he had stumbled into the day after the party - and he didn’t want to risk hearing anything about it, or seeing it in action.
“She said it didn’t matter.”
You had said that - he had asked you straight up, so there was no confusing it, but when he tried to remember, he can’t picture your eyes as you did. He must not have been looking, he thought, or maybe you weren’t looking at him. Either way, how’s he supposed to muster up a clear idea of your intentions if he can’t remember the look in your eyes as you spoke them.
You couldn’t lie to him - you never could, even in the beginning, pretending to be aloof, pretending you weren’t into him, he could always see through you, back then, so why didn’t he try harder when it was something he didn’t want to hear?
“She’s really gone home? Not just back to Ann Arbor?”
“What are you gonna do?” Ellie scoffed, folding her arms across her chest, “Chase her down?”
“I don’t know, if I have to. We need to talk.”
“She’s probably back at her mom’s by now, she left pretty early. And I think it’s for the best if you leave her alone, Luke. She gave you a hundred chances to talk.”
“What am I supposed to do? I can’t just leave things like this, I made a mistake, I need her to know that, I need her to know I’m sorry.”
“It’s better if you both just cool off a little. She’s hurt that you’ve been ignoring her, it isn’t fair to keep playing hot and cold with her feelings.”
“That’s not what I-,”
“I know.” Ellie sighed, leaning against the wall and giving him a pitiful look as she finally took in just how panicked he had become, running hands through his hair and shifting between his feet. “Just give it time, that way you can both think about it, think about what you want to say without just saying things and not meaning them.”
And that’s all Luke has been doing since then.
Thinking about what he wants to say to you - thinking about how to fix things. All without knowing when it is that he would even see you again, or if you’d be willing to listen.
He’d distracted himself with it - his mind stuck on just how bad he had messed things up, and it had put him into a rut - so much so, that he ended up hurting himself in training, an injury that would have him out for a good couple of months. And he had meant it, when he told you he thought it was karma, because he deserved a reality check, he thinks. It had shifted things into perspective, at least - because now he could stay in town a little longer, could try and make amends before he had to go home and properly start his season.
And when he’d noticed Ellie scanning the crowd back at the game, had followed her beaming smile all the way to you in the crowd, he thought his heart had stopped.
It had been 4 weeks since he’d seen you last - almost 6 since he’d spoken to you. Since he’d touched you, or kissed you, or seen you smile, and when your eyes meet his from the stands, widened and hesitant, he could tell you were feeling the same.
An insurmountable longing for something the two of you should never have thrown away.
He saw the truth, then, even as you looked away and diverted your attention back to Ellie - the truth he was too hurt to notice all those weeks ago back in your room in the lake house.
That you felt the same way - you always had - you just weren’t used to it. Weren’t used to loving someone, or having them love you.
But he can’t quite tell if you still feel it.
He can’t expect you to, not with how reserved you’ve become.
He sighs, sinking into the cushions of the couch, legs stretched out and head thrown against the back as he squints against the light - the noise around him dwindling to a constant buzz.
He’s too caught up in his head to notice when Ellie sinks down beside him until she nudges at his side, and he slowly looks her way.
“If it helps at all, I could tell she wanted to come.”
Luke snorts out a humourless laugh, eyes rolling. “If she wanted to come, she’d be here.” He says, the muscles in his jaw tensing. “She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“She doesn’t really open up to people,” Ellie sighs, and he can tell from the way she’s looking at him that’s only divulging this from a place of pity, although he guesses that’s better than her saying nothing at all. “It took us years to get to where we are, and even now I’m not sure she lets me all the way in, and we’re supposed to be best friends.”
“I feel like I don’t even know if she was ever into me in the first place,” he mutters, tracing at a scratch in the surface of the table. Even if he had thought different, back in the stadium, he can’t be so sure now that you haven’t shown. You’d have come if you still cared. “I’m still confused by the whole Cole thing-,”
“That was my fault,” Ellie interjects, “I thought I was doing the right thing, I didn’t realise that you two were-,” her teeth clash as she bites down, as if to stop saying the word, together. “Whatever you were. And she just got all in her head after she heard you saying all that stuff, it’s what she does, keeps her cards close to her chest until she loses them all.”
“That’s the problem, El,” Luke groans, “If she really liked me, she would have told you. If she was ever serious, you’d have known something was up. She wouldn’t have hidden it from her best friend and told me that she was gonna go out with Cole after all.”
“You know she turned him down, Luke, he said himself, she was into someone else.”
“Yeah, or so he assumed,” he grumbles, recalling the feeling he got when Cole had said as much, back on the day you left.
“And you know on my birthday when she overheard that conversation, she’d literally just told me that she liked you. That’s big for her, Luke. It might have taken her a while but she got there in the end. It’s your own fault for having such a big mouth and ruining it.”
“I told her I didn’t mean it,” he can’t help how whiney he sounds, lips pouting and a crease forming between his eyebrows. “I told her I was sorry.”
“And then you ignored her for almost two weeks until she had no choice but to leave. You don’t get to claim the moral high ground here, I’m sorry.”
“So what am I supposed to do? She won’t talk to me.”
“You just have to give her time, don’t give up again.” Ellie nudges him a little too forcefully, the sharp jut of her elbow in his ribs causing him to wince. “Really think about if there’s a version of you that could be friends.”
“What if I don’t want to be friends, what if I don’t wanna keep taking one step forward and three back?”
“Then think about if you’d rather be nothing at all.”
“She hates me that much?”
“I don’t know, she stopped talking to me about it.” Ellie huffs, leaning back a little more into the couch. “But I’d take that as a no. If she hated you, neither of us would hear the end of it, trust me.”
He knows that’s true - all the odd comments you’d drop about Jack back in the beginning of summer. He knows you never hated Jack, but there was always a clear dislike, and you were never shy about voicing it to anyone willing to listen.
If you’re not talking about him at all, it means one of two things. You either give so little of a shit about him that you don’t see a use in bringing him up, or you don’t want to show vulnerability by admitting how much he hurt you.
He knows what he’d put his money on.
“Can’t you talk to her for me? Put a good word in?” He pleads, rounding his eyes in the hopes that Ellie’s pity extends to doing him a solid - he dedicated his entire summer to getting her and Jack together, after all.
“I think it’s best for the both of us if I stay out of her love life. My meddling is what got you guys into this mess in the first place.”
Luke sighs as he resumes his previous position, neck thrown against the back of the couch and eyes cast to the ceiling.
Your room is right above - the bed on which you’d kissed him that first time, away from your scheming at the mall, still made and empty. The bed where you two would lay atop the covers, watching movies on the old staticky TV, sharing snacks between you and spouting commentary into the night.
He wonders, then, if you’d watched anything since the last time - before you left - and it’s that thought that has him pushing himself up and making his way up the stairs.
Despite the amount of time since you were in here, it still kind of smells like you - like melon sunscreen and passionfruit perfume - and he casts a glance around for anything that might remain.
There’s nothing, though. No loose hair ties, forgotten jewellery, not even a book left behind.
And then he checks by the TV - the shelf below it housing a DVD player, and he powers it up just to press eject.
After a few seconds, a disc spins out.
Silver Linings Playbook, with Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence.
He might have seen it once or twice, can vaguely remember some of the storyline, but it isn’t until everybody has left the house a good hour or two later that he thinks he should watch it - if it’s the last movie you watched before you left - just to get an idea of your headspace.
When he’s lounging on his own bed, the movie playing on his TV, Jennifer’s Tiffany saying to Bradley’s Pat, “I used to think that you were the best thing that ever happened to me, but now I think that you might maybe be the worst thing. And I'm sorry that I ever met you.” And it turns his stomach in a way he isn’t prepared for, tears pricking at his eyes at the thought of you watching this and thinking the same.
And then Pat responds, and Luke sits with the line for a good minute, pausing the movie as he ponders the response, "Good for you. Come on, let's go dance.”
He wonders if you smiled the same way - soft and small, hopeful that one day the punches you throw to defend yourself are met with the same resistance, with a hand that grabs at them, and instead of fighting back, just pulls you closer.
It’s almost by instinct that he pulls his phone out, loading up the same app he always does when he’s watching a movie, ready to fill in a review when it gets to a part that resonates with him.
And there you are, on his friends feed - the last movie you logged being an hour ago, La La Land, which you had unsurprisingly given 5 stars, and had reviewed with just a quote - It’s pretty strange that we keep bumping into each other. Maybe it means something.
And he grins, really and genuinely beams, for what feels like the first time in a while, a small chuckle rumbling up from his chest as he checks for your review on Silver Linings - the same quote he loved so much sitting there under your 5 star rating.
He doesn’t want to be nothing, he decides, then, like it was ever in question.
And he realises it’s up to him to do something about it.
Luke’s first thought when it comes to fixing thing is to text you.
It’s simple, and it should be easy, but he sits staring at your name in his phone for 30 minutes trying to think of what would be best to say.
A casual, hey, in the hopes that you’d just instinctively type it back.
A call out, like, Bummed you couldn’t come over the other night, thinking you might have been feeling guilty.
A question, or even an invite, along the lines of, Do you want to meet somewhere? Because leaving someone hanging on an invite is just plain cruel.
But then he feels like he doesn’t want to force your hand - weirdly inspired by that La La Land quote you loved so much, about bumping into each other.
Only orchestrating a chance encounter was hard when you weren’t going out. Ellie had mentioned everybody going for drinks at one of the bars on campus, and you never turned up.
She told him your favourite coffee shop, and despite him hanging around all day one time, like a total creep, he didn’t catch sight of you once.
You weren’t with Ellie when he bumped into her at the mall, or at the diner, when he had gone for burgers with the guys and seen a few of your sorority sisters on the other side of the restaurant.
And even when Ellie had told him to come over to the house, that she’d take him into town to pick up some suits, because he was still in his sling and couldn’t drive himself, he had been disheartened to find out you wouldn’t be there - that you had a morning class, and Ellie hadn’t even seen you.
He settles for looking at the cute photo of you and Ellie on the mantle, greek letters painted on your cheeks, beaming smiles as you looked straight into the camera, and he still gets that twinge in his chest even looking at a photo.
A twinge that only grows when he hears a gasp from behind him, and he swiftly turns to see you at the bottom of the staircase, looking back at him, alarmed and surprised.
Luke’s eyes trail slowly up your bare legs, his throat going dry as they land on the oversized shirt you’re wearing - his shirt, he’s pretty sure, although he knows it’s probably best not to comment on that - before cutting up to your face, wide eyes staring back at him.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, stepping back toward the staircase where you rest your hand on the bannister, putting as much distance between the two of you as you can without completely retreating up the stairs.
“I uh-,” he stutters, losing his train of thought as he stands there with his mouth agape, taking you in.
He hadn’t been prepared to see you, that much is clear - and especially not like this, dressed in his shirt, which you’ve obviously slept in, hair a little messy, skin bare of any makeup. It reminds him of those mornings in his bed, waking up before the rest of the house, your body bathed in the soft glow from the rising sun, trading sleepy kisses until you would sneak back off to your room.
It makes him yearn for that, again, and feelings like that need some kind of forewarning, otherwise they serve nothing but to make him ache.
“I said I’d drive him to an appointment,” Ellie says as she emerges from the kitchen, car keys in hand, “I though everyone had class this morning, you’re not gonna hand me in for having a guy in the house, are you?”
“I’m not a snitch,” you frown, tugging at the ends of his shirt, “I slept in, I didn’t think anyone else was here either.”
He didn’t exactly need the confirmation, considering your current state, but knowing you slept in his shirt makes the heat creep up his neck, his chest puffing as he really takes in the meaning of it.
So many things about you are screaming that you want nothing to do with him, but you’re sleeping in his old Michigan shirt, one you’d borrowed when your shoulders were burning out on a wakeboarding trip one day, he’s pretty sure - one he never even realised you kept.
“Do you need a ride?” She offers, stepping beside Luke, close enough that in order to look at Ellie, you pretty much have to look his way too, and every time you glance at him, he catches you. “We were gonna go get a drink before, so we’re heading your way anyway. Or you could come with, if you’re skipping."
“Uh, no,” you decline, without even thinking about it, Luke’s chest feeling a little tighter at just how quick you are to avoid being near him. “I’m gonna go to the library.”
“I could still drive you. I doubt you’d mind a detour, would you, Lukey?”
“No,” he breathes out, almost immediately, eyes staying on you. “I don’t mind.”
“It’s fine,” you offer Ellie a tight lipped smile, “I’ll walk.”
And that’s that - your figure retreating back up the stairs before Luke has anything to say about it, his shoulders slumping as Ellie offers a friendly pat to his back.
“C’mon then, I need to stop for gas, you’re paying.”
He follows Ellie out to the back of the house, where the girls usually park their cars off the street, and just as he’s climbing into Ellie’s Mini, he glances up to the one of the windows, just in time to catch the quick shift of a curtain.
“Don’t worry,” Ellie says as he adjusts the passenger seat, folding his long legs into the limited space, an assured smile sent his way before she starts up the car. “I’ve got a plan.”
“What happened to no more meddling?” He huffs as he buckled himself in.
“I can’t sit back and watch my best friend become boring trying to avoid you, Luke,” she sighs, “It’s borderline painful.”
—
You don’t know when managing your social life became Ellie’s full time job - as if the two of you aren’t tumbling into the depths of your final year of school with very little direction or guidance - but you’re growing tired of it, quick.
First, it had been, you’re coming to the bar and I’m not taking no for an answer, except, she had taken no for an answer, she just relished in making you feel bad for it after.
Then it had been, I need your opinion on halloween costumes, and she had insisted you join her at the mall, but you had an appointment with the careers counsellor that you really couldn’t miss, and she had to settle with sending you photos, again adding incessant messages about how she wouldn’t let you turn down the next invitation out.
Never mind trying to avoid bumping into Luke during his extended stay, avoiding Ellie was becoming a real task - slipping out before she can corner you in the mornings and staying out most of the day.
She caught you off guard, the other day, though - inviting Luke around. Sure, you were supposed to be in class - would have been, if your alarm had gone off on time - but still, bringing him into your space was like crossing a line, breaking an unspoken rule.
She’s supposed to be on your side. She isn’t supposed to be bringing the guy who hurt you into your house and driving him around town like his personal assistant, all from the good of her heart.
She’s just trying to kiss up to Jack.
At least, you thought so, until she sent you a text later that day - a bunch of pictures of Luke in different suits, tailored perfectly to his lean figure, shirts that stretched taut across his broad shoulders and pants that clung perfectly to his hips, followed by the message, thoughts?
You had many, but none that you could possibly sent to her - only replying with a question mark until she apologised, claiming they were meant for Jack’s approval.
It became clear then, what she was doing - flaunting him in front of you until you burst at the seams, like one of those jackets looked like it was going to do in a few of the pictures from the back of Luke in the tailor shop. Sending you those had been no accident.
And that’s why you were sceptical when the weekend rolled around, and she was begging and pleading for you to go with her to a party at the hockey house - promising you that he was finally heading back to Jersey, and definitely wasn’t going to be around.
She’d buttered you up with groans of, I feel like I never see you anymore, and, school is stressing me out, already, I just want to let loose with my best friend!
And it was the promise that she’d let you wear a skirt you’ve been eyeing in her closet for the past two years that sealed the deal - a vintage Diesel mini that she had thrifted and guarded like her whole life depended on it.
You can’t help it, anyway - it’s been so long since you’ve been out like that - probably summer being the last time - and you need to let loose too.
And that’s how you end up walking hand in hand through the front door, Ellie having styled your hair, the two of you looking like a million dollars, and it’s the first time in months that you aren’t disturbed by the feeling of eyes on you.
You kind of feel like your old self - confident, self-assured, like there isn’t a soul on earth who could possibly make you doubt yourself.
You wish the universe gave you at least five minutes to sit with that feeling before you saw him.
Before you saw Luke, sling-free, bottle in hand, leaning against the wall, talking to Victoria Anderson, a girl you know he has history with - a girl you have history with, yourself.
You hate how quick the switch within you flips - the slight slump of your posture, the tension in your jaw, all your self-worth seeping from your pores like your body is actively trying to kill it.
Your hand slips from Ellie’s, immediately heading in the opposite direction to where Luke is - making a bee-line straight for the kitchen, straight for a drink.
Ellie is hot on your heels, grasping at your arm to keep up, “I’m sorry,” she calls after you.
“You said he wouldn’t be here,” you grumble, shoving through the swinging door and heading straight for the line of bottles on the counter.
“What am I, his keeper?” She scoffs, trying to play it off as a lighthearted joke, but you can see it in her eyes that she knew. “I don’t know where he’s gonna be at all hours of the day.”
“You said he was going back to Jersey.”
“Yeah, well, I must have got my days mixed up!”
“Yeah, right,” you scoff, pouring out a shot from the first bottle you find without even reading the label, and throwing it back before you can think twice. You pour yourself a proper drink, after - a vodka with diet coke - and sip at it just to cool your nerves, trying to calm yourself down.
You don’t want to be mad at Ellie - whatever she’s doing, she’s doing it because she cares - but you’re so tired of overthinking this whole thing. All you want is a break from it all, and no one is willing to give you one.
“I’m gonna go find Ethan,” you tell her, figuring you can kill two birds with one stone - ask him about the class you missed the other morning, and avoid speaking to Luke, “If you want to make this up to me, I need you to tell Luke to steer clear, okay?”
“Fine,” she scowls, rolling her eyes as she has to pour her own drink.
You storm off back toward the door, and just as you get close, it swings open, the edge of it knocking straight into you - into the hand holding your freshly poured drink, which is now dripping down your front.
Your whole body tenses at the sensation of the liquid seeping through your shirt, only momentarily thankful that you hadn’t added ice before you remember the coke - remember the vintage skirt, with the light denim wash.
You hear Ellie groan from behind you, and you squeeze your eyes shut in the hopes that you’ll magically gain some sort of time travelling superpower - a rewind button, like Click.
“Are you okay?”
Of course it had to be him, you think - because you’ve somehow unsettled the entire balance of the universe, and this is how it’s decided to repay you, your eyes opening to find those concerned, grey-green eyes peering back at you.
He takes the empty cup that’s being squished in your grip and tosses it into a trash can to the side before you feel a hesitant hand on your side, watching as he surveys the damage.
“And here I thought that skirt couldn’t get uglier.”
Victoria’s piercing blue eyes gleam back at you, a sinister smirk plastered on her lips, and you’re lunging before you even know it until a strong arm curls around your waist, the heat of his skin slipping straight into the gap between your skirt and t-shirt, and sending a shiver straight down the spine that’s now pressed to his front.
“Hey, c’mon,” he warns, pulling you back with enough force that there’s a good couple of feet between you and Victoria now, and her eyes narrow at all the points he’s touching you. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
You think you only let him guide you away to piss her off - and it isn’t until he’s ushering you into the small downstairs bathroom and closing the door behind him that you realise how little consideration you put into that.
You watch as Luke retrieves a towel from the small cupboard by the door, forgetting he probably still knows this place like the back of his hand, and starts to work at the front of your t-shirt before you snatch it away.
“I’ve got it, thanks.” You snap, entirely frustrated with the whole situation than you think you are with him, a small swirling of guilt immediately bubbling up inside you.
You dab at the skirt, first, hoping there’s some way that it’s salvageable, or Ellie’s going to murder you. You lean against the counter by the sink, and glance down at the damage. It looks just like a water stain, for now, unfortunately placed, but you won’t know for sure until it dries, and dabbing at it with a towel isn’t really going to fix that.
“Did she hurt your hand?” Luke asks, low voice breaking the silence you were starting to cherish, and it’s only then that you realise where the door hit you. Your knuckles ache a little, but you can still flex your fingers, so you figure they’ll just be bruised tomorrow.
You do wish you could have bruised them another way - maybe with a fist to Victoria Anderson’s smug grin - but you’re supposed to be a pacifist, so maybe not. If anyone’s going to break that pattern, it would be her - your rival in every way ever since you came to Michigan. Academically, in all the same classes, socially, in opposing sororities, and even romantically, with her somehow always looking out for the same guys.
She’d even been at one of the parties back at the lake house, with her hands all over Luke - you remember hearing her shrill laugh and feeling like someone had just drug their nails down a chalkboard, all semblance of peace instantly lost.
You’re brought out of whatever fiery daydream even her name elicits with the touch of Luke’s fingers to yours, the soft brush of his thumb over your knuckles as he checks for any real damage.
“I’m fine,” you croak out, dazed a little by the feeling before you tear your hand away, “It was just a knock.”
“You want me to kick her ass?”
You blame the shot you took for the way you snort out a laugh - caught by surprise and unable to even consider the reaction, slipping straight back into your unguarded self around him - like the walls you’ve tried so hard to rebuild just dissolved. Not even a knock or a tumble of bricks, just them fading into nothing like magic.
Luke smiles back, soft and hesitant, like he’s waiting for you to fade away, too.
And then there’s that silence you thought you wanted - heavy and tense, and it’s too much for you to handle, so you slip past him, wordlessly, and head straight back to the door.
And just as your fingers grasp at the handle and you prepare yourself to pull, a large hand lays flat on the surface beside you, trapped by a warm chest closing in on your back.
It’s quiet for a minute, the dull thump of the bass from the music somewhere else in the house now distant and fading, and the room feels charged way beyond the atmosphere of the party you’ve been away from a little too long.
You see the bend in his elbow before you feel his breath on the back of your neck, and you can feel the distance closing - an inch or two now, so close that you have to stay vigilant not to take even the slightest step back.
“Luke,” you breathe, your throat stinging in preparation for some sort of hurt, and your lip trembling until you start to chew on it.
“Just one more minute.”
“You have to let me go.”
“Please, I just want to talk.”
You turn, slowly, and you don’t know why you do it to yourself, because it’s inevitable you’ll fall prey to the pleading look in his eyes. Your back falls against the door, and you’re craning your neck to look up at him, blinking slow as his eyes flicker between your own.
Every passing second feels like a minute, and just as you’re about to give in - to tell him to go ahead and talk, the door vibrates behind you, a fist banging into the other side.
“Please tell me the skirt is okay!”
You press a hand flat to his chest and push, wedging some much needed space between the two of you - enough that you can swing the door open and face Ellie, and save yourself from plunging into whatever rabbit hole that would have taken you down.
“I won’t know until it’s dry, but if it’s bad, we’ll take it to the cleaners, okay?”
“Ugh,” Ellie groans, grabbing you by the hand and dragging you back to the kitchen for another drink, “I’m so running her ass over the next time I see her on the street.”
You look back at Luke, still stood in the doorway, watching the whole way until you disappear around the corner, and it’s only when you can’t see him anymore that your heart rate returns to an acceptable speed.
You successfully manage to avoid Luke for a good couple of hours, almost forgetting him, miraculously, despite being in a house filled with his closest friends. There’s even a point where you think he might have left, until you stumble out into the backyard to a group setting up a small fire to keep warm.
You’re too buzzed to comment on the legality of it, so far gone that the thought of campus police coming around barely even crosses your mind, and you throw yourself down into one of the camp chairs with a drink in hand as the group discuss how to pass the time.
You can’t remember who suggests Never Have I Ever, too distracted by the figure settling down on the opposite side of the fire, long limps stretching almost comically out of the small chair, meeting your eyes for a moment before you look away at the arrival of Nick, who comes with cards in hand.
You’d usually make some sort of comment about how juvenile it is, but there’s this part of you that’s probably trying to cling a little to that, lately, so you let it pass, leaning almost sleepily back into your chair as it kicks off.
The game is pretty tame compared to other times you’ve played it, stuff like, never have I ever crashed a car, and, never have I ever broken a bone, coming from the top of the deck, and there’s only a few complaints about it needing more spice before it gets to Ellie’s turn to pick, a few people down from you.
“Never have I ever,” Ellie drags out before picking a card, flipping between her manicured fingers and smiling slowly as she reads the rest, “Been in love,” she coos, turning it to show the rest of the group with a love-struck grin.
A chorus of groans sing out from around the circle, Luca reaching to swipe the card from Ellie as she takes a big chug from her red cup. “That’s so lame,” he huffs, “Pick another, this isn’t the Ellie show. We get it, you're happy, doesn't mean the rest of us should suffer.”
You glance down at your empty cup as the two of them start to argue about the rules of the game, Ellie grumbling how she didn’t write the cards, and Luca retorting with how she could have at least gone off-script to make it a little more interesting.
If you had any semblance of your inhibitions, any control of your reactions, your gaze would have stayed on the last few drops swirling around the base of your drink. Your eyes wouldn’t have trailed up slowly, past the dancing flames of the makeshift-campfire, and fallen onto another cup at the opposite side of the circle.
It wouldn’t have watched intently as long, slender fingers raised to bring said cup up, pressing to parted lips, the contents gulped down as you stare at the movement of his throat around the liquid.
When you dare to look higher, you find him already staring back at you, piercing green eyes burning hotter than the fire between you, and your own throat goes dry as you watch.
And of course he makes a show of it, squaring his shoulders and swiping a thumb across his bottom lip to make sure there's no residue. No evidence of all that he had just admitted to. Nothing but the memory of it burned already into the back of your retinas, lingering like an ache all the way down your spine.
No one else seems to notice - but you suppose that’s just how things go between you and Luke. One more secret to add to the ever-growing pile.
Your hand trembles as if it wants to copy him, but you’re thankful for the last shred of dignity you have that tells you that even if you wanted to drink - even if you could play it off as assuming the question had been vetoed, and you were just quenching your thirst in the brief break in the game - there’s nothing left. Even if you wanted to drink - which you brain is so loudly telling you that you don’t - you can’t.
And when Luke’s gaze shifts, lowers painstakingly slow as everything else fades to background noise around the two of you, you don’t know why you find yourself tilting your cup when his eyes land on it, making a show of just how empty it is.
“You’re not gonna drink?” Ethan frowns from beside you, a nudge of his elbow knocking at yours and bringing you back down to earth with a painful splat.
Why would he assume that?
“What?” You ask, frowning as you meet his chocolate brown eyes, the reflection of the flames basking them in a warm, melting glow.
“He said never have I ever been kicked out of a bar,” he chuckles, quirking a brow as your face morphs from one of confusion to one of recollection. “I know for a fact you have.”
“Oh, right,” you laugh, nervously, the reaction coming out more like a stuttered breath as the panic swirling in your chest dissipates just the slightest. “I’m running on empty. I’m gonna go get a refill.”
Ethan nods as he shuffles a little to let you out of the circle, watching with narrowed eyes as you lift yourself from the chair and edge your way out of the group and back towards the house.
The kitchen is thankfully empty when you get back inside, sliding the door shut behind you to block out the noise, your thoughts overbearing enough without still being able to hear everyone yelling out in the yard.
You move almost on autopilot, heading for the row of bottles on the counter and reaching straight for the vodka you’ve been mixing with diet coke all night.
You pour out a measured shot first, swirl it in the cup before lifting the it straight to your lips, leaving little room to think much more about it, and throwing your head back.
The liquid burns the whole way down - all the way from the back of your mouth, past your aching chest, and into the pit of your stomach, pooling there in a nauseating bubble of heat and regret - and you don’t know entirely if the need to drink was just to quench your thirst, to alleviate the warmth spiking up your neck, to quell the rampant beating of your heart, or to play along with the game. With Luke’s game.
Maybe some mysteries are better left unsolved.
He wasn’t in love with you.
You think you’d know. He would have told you - he’s hardly shy about voicing his opinion, you learned that the hard way.
He’s just being cruel, now, you’ve convinced yourself - probably payback for earlier, for leaving him in the bathroom and telling him to let you go. One final act of defiance, because he has to have the last word.
God, why would you even play along?
You shouldn’t have even looked his way - should have kept your eyes down, then you wouldn’t still be feeling like your whole body is on fire.
Your eyes dart up at the sound of the screen door opening, and your heart thuds in your chest at the sight of who walks through.
You hold your breath as he slowly makes his way toward you - cautious steps carrying him toward the counter where you stand, and he places his empty cup on the surface beside yours,
“You can’t avoid me forever.”
“I don’t have to avoid you forever,” you shrug, circling around him and trying not to let him trap you again, “I just have to avoid you until you go home.”
“I don’t want to go home without us talking,” he grasps at your wrist before you can fully get past him, levelling you with a tired look, one that says he’s resigned to his fate, but he can’t rest until he tries one last time. “Please.”
“Luke,” you groan, the remnants of intoxication slowly fading into exhaustion.
“Just one conversation.” He begs, “Then you can be done with me, I’ll leave you alone.”
Your lips twist as you try not to give under the weight of his softened, pleading gaze. He’s persistent, you’ll give him that - and he’s technically surpassed the efforts you had made back before you left the house toward the end of summer, now almost 3 weeks since you had turned him down back at the football game.
And do you really want him to leave you alone? You’re not entirely sure. Maybe talking to him can help you finally figure that out.
“Fine.” You acquiesce. “One conversation.”
“You want me to walk you home?” He asks, his voice soft and low, a tilt to his head that makes his curls shuffle and a caring glint in his eye that makes your legs feel like jelly. It’s probably for the best if he does, you think, you’re at a serious fall-risk now. Tired and buzzed, a lethal combination.
You nod, wordlessly, watching as he seemingly tries to fight a small smile, straightening up to swipe your cup, stacking it with his own and throwing it in the trash.
“C’mon, I already gave Ellie a heads up, I’ll come back for her.”
You soften a little at the thought of him considering her - even if it isn’t about you. If it’s on Jack’s behalf, and he’s just being a good brother, him looking out for your best friend is still sweet.
You let him guide you out of the house, and it’s quiet in a way you can’t stand, walking side by side down the otherwise empty street.
“You’re out of your sling, then?” You don’t know why you feel better to make small talk - but waiting with bated breath for him to say what he’s been trying to for so long now makes your heart pound almost painfully against your ribcage.
“Yeah,” he flexes his arm a little, as if to prove a point. “I’m back in Jersey at the end of the week, will probably be doing no contact training for a while.”
“How long until you’re playing again?”
“They’re saying it’s looking like November,” he tells you, “Which sucks, but at least I don’t need surgery like Jack.”
“Do you miss it?” You ask, conscious of the way your steps are slowly turning toward his and trying to straighten yourself up. “Being back in New Jersey with your team, with Jack?”
“Jack doesn’t give anybody a chance to miss him, you should know that by now.” He grumbles, "In my texts 24/7 like it’s his second job.”
“Ellie’s too,” you tell him in a breathy chuckle, crossing your arms over your torso just to keep your hands busy with something as he shoves his back in the pockets of his jeans. “I don’t know where he finds the time,”
“He doesn’t need time, he’s annoying to his very core.” Luke scoffs, “I do miss the guys though, but there’s a couple group chats. And I’d probably miss the guys here if I was back there.”
“So either way you’re missing somebody?”
He gives an affirmative hum, kicking a rock down the side of the curb, figuring you don’t quite realise just how true that question rings to him. The sorority house is at the end of the path, now - closer than either of you really anticipated, and you almost start to panic, like the walls are closing in on you, like you’re running out of time.
“Listen-,”
“Look-,”
You both stop in the middle of the sidewalk, looking at each other wide eyed until you press your lips together, and gesture for him to carry on.
“I miss you,” he says, plain and simple, like it’s all he can muster up - and if you’re honest, it’s all you want to hear, an acknowledgement that without you in his life, there’s this gaping hole that no one else can fill. “I know that if I want to fix things between us, that I should give you this huge speech about how much I fucked things up, and that I should have trusted you, and listened to you when you tried to talk to me, and I do think all those things. I know those things, but I’ve been trying to figure out how to say them without it sounding like some bullshit excuse, and I figure I just need to be honest with you.
“I feel like the whole time we were together, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know, like I could never just be in the moment with you because I felt like it was gonna end. And I think maybe you were doing the same.”
It’s crazy, you think, how well he knows you.
“And neither of us were ever gonna be ready to be anything more, because we weren’t even acknowledging that this thing between us probably wasn’t healthy.”
You’re quite thankful for the sting in the back of your throat, because you don’t know what you’d say to that, if you could speak.
It hurts to hear it, but he’s right.
“I just wanted to believe it was a good thing for as long as you’d let me, and when you said you’d have dated Cole, and that you’d have thrown it all away, and I just left without a fight, I-,” he blinks, like he’s trying to rid himself of the tears welling in the corners of his eyes, like he doesn’t want to give in and let them shed. “I don’t know, I thought it was best to avoid you all together than watch you put that final nail in the coffin, or whatever.”
“You know I never went out with Cole, right?”
“I know. He told me before he left for training camp. The day you left. Almost considered running after you to apologise for being such a dick. Even thought about flagging you down in departures at Wayne County.”
You let that thought sit for a moment - Luke chasing you down like something out of one of the romantic comedies you would watch together - like the angsty movies you watched after you went home, laying on your bed and wishing the two of you could have had a happy ending.
“Probably for the best you didn’t chase me through the airport,” you tell him with a wistful smile, “declarations of love freak me out,”
“I thought they might.” He chuckles, breathily, his heart not entirely in it.
“I also took the greyhound.”
“You know serial killers get those things, right.”
“You watch too many movies.”
His eyes flicker to yours, then, knowing and amused - like a new inside joke has cemented itself into your dynamic.
“I don’t want to be nothing with you.”
It’s a weird statement, almost nonsensical, but you get it.
It’s what you’ve been trying for ever since you left Michigan, after all, and especially after you returned.
You let the thought settle for a moment, your lips twisting and your eyes tearing up as you watch him wait for a response.
“You really hurt me, Luke.” Your voice trembles as you say it, and you think you’re only part spurred on by liquid courage, the rest of it probably the incessant need to open up to somebody.
“I know,” he practically whispers back, choked up as much as you are.
“I don’t think I can do that again.”
He nods, pressing his tongue to the side of his cheek like he’s trying not to press you on it, stepping back ever so slightly and huffing out a deep breath.
You almost think he might retreat, entirely - accepting your reluctance this final time and letting you go, just like you’d asked, earlier.
“What about if it’s not,” he shakes his head, sighing as he tries to think of the best way to say it, “What if it’s not romantic, between us?”
“You really think we could be friends?”
“You don’t?” He asks, wincing a little like the thought of anything else is painful.
“We’re hardly gonna see each other,” you tell him, “Is there really any point in keeping it up?”
“I’d like to try.”
You don’t know what concept hurts you the most, the thought of trying and failing, or not trying at all. Either way, you lose him.
You wish, for a moment, you were in any way good at math - that you could work out the statistic for the other option, the one where it actually works.
The option where neither of you get hurt, and you get to keep him.
You imagine that it’s slim.
“I don’t know, Luke,” you sigh, unable to shake the heaviness of your doubt, “It feels like we’re just stretching out the inevitable, here.”
“I don’t think so,” he fights back, taking that step forward that he just took back, “Just friends, it doesn’t have to be anything more than that. Hell, if you want to build up to friends, I’ll take that, too. Just not nothing. I miss you too much to be nothing.”
You miss him, too. You missed him the past 3 weeks while he’s been in town, and the two of you have somehow managed to avoid seeing each other for the most part. You missed him for the month you were back at your mom’s house. You missed him those ten days over in the lake house, when he was still technically right in front of you the whole time.
“Can I think about it?”
“Yeah!” He nods, eagerly, the slight etching of a smile spreading across his lips. “Yes, you can think about it.”
You nod back, then, hesitant and before you can do something stupid, like wrap your arms around him as a goodbye, you step away.
You bid him goodnight, offering a thank you for walking you home, and you retreat into the safety of the house, watching through the window by the front door until he disappears back down the street.
The start of your semester passes in a chaotic blur, and you very quickly, and very frantically, find yourself panicking a little about the what’s-next of it all.
With the last few months of your headspace occupied entirely by a certain brunette, you realise quickly that you really need to knuckle down and figure out what you’re going to do with yourself once school is over.
And that’s what brings you to New York City in the middle of October - one of your very few prospects for the aftermath of your college career discussed over iced teas in Midtown, Manhattan, before you’re crossing state lines through the Holland Tunnel and scrambling to get ready in the hotel room you and Ellie had booked.
You don’t know how you managed to hide all of your efforts behind a veil of secrecy, but Ellie had been all too distracted by you agreeing to accompany her to Jack’s team halloween party in Jersey City, and so she had little brain power left to question where you disappeared off to, or why you’d possibly have any sort of appointment anywhere near here as soon as you told her she could pick up a costume for you.
You should have known it would be something ridiculous, evidenced by the poofy yellow dress and cartoonish crown she had left on your bed for you to change into.
When you emerge from the bathroom, fully dressed, she’s stood in her Princess Peach costume - the colour palette a lot more complementary to her than the yellow is to you, but you can hardly fight her on it now - especially knowing Jack is out there somewhere dressed as Mario.
You don’t know how it slips your mind that he and Luke play for the same team, or that they’re brothers, or that he could possibly at the same party, dressed as Luigi. Not until you and Ellie are walking into the party a little after it starts, and you meet his eye for the first time in a couple of weeks, your mouth falling agape as you realise just what Ellie has done.
You don’t even have a second to call her out before she’s prancing off to some far side of the room with Jack, all over him after their own extended time apart, and you literally have no option but to sidle up to Luke, tail between your legs, cringing at the entire situation as you stand beside him in a room full of his peers after you had only just shut him down not long ago.
Thankfully, it’s Luke - and he would rather choke than make you feel uncomfortable about it.
He offers an easy smile, amused, even, as he greets you from the tall table he’s occupying, handing you the beer he just opened for himself and reaching for another from the table behind him.
“I don’t even know why I agreed to come with them, I knew they’d just split and make out in the corner,” you roll your eyes, taking a swig from the bottle and grimacing a little at the taste. “I don’t even know anybody.”
“You know me,” he shrugs, “I don’t mind keeping you company.”
“Yeah right,” you scoff, “You literally just came back, the last thing you need is to be lumped in a corner with me all night when you’ve hardly seen your teammates for months. I���m just gonna duck out in a little bit, no one will care.”
“I’ll care,” he chuckles lightheartedly, the ease in which the statement slips out and the certainty in which you feel it sends a slight shiver down your spine. “I’ve been back in training for a week, trust me, I’ve already had enough.”
You sigh, trying to ignore the convincing look he’s giving you - head titled, a lopsided smile and eyes filled with hope.
It was only just under two weeks ago that you told him you didn’t want to be friends, so you can’t really understand why he’s so intent on you sticking around. He should be personally ordering you an Uber back to your hotel and pushing you out of the door, but he’s giving you this pleading pout now that’s making you think his night would fall to pieces if you left so soon.
The thing is, you’re not that great around people you don’t know, not lately, anyway - especially not when those people are all big, bulky high performance athletes (and Jack) and their drop dead gorgeous partners. You feel like an intruder, like you don’t belong, and you can’t imagine anything happening to change your mind.
“I still feel like such an outsider at these things,” Luke huffs, elbows resting on the tall table in front of you, his body leaning onto it in the absence of any stools nearby until he’s more around your height. “This is the first time Jack’s brought anybody with him so I can’t exactly stick to his side like normal.”
You frown.
Is he serious?
Luke has never been the type to stick to his brother’s side - not from what you’ve seen, anyway, and you’d pretty much spent your entire summer observing the guy - you’re way past the point of trying to deny that, now.
“Isn’t that Seamus over there?” You point to the opposite side of the room, where you’re pretty sure you recognise another of yours and Luke’s previous classmates. “Aren’t you two friends?”
“We got into a pretty heated discussion during Thursday Night Football the other night, we’re on a break.”
You almost forgot how quick Luke can be, the slight quiver in the corner of his mouth giving away his attempts at deception, but you’re hardly in any position to call him out on it.
He’s trying to do you a favour, after all.
“In fact, I need you to stay for my protection. He might be out for my neck, you can’t let me die in a Luigi costume, that would be cruel.”
You snort as you take him in in his entirety, from the ridiculous hat, to the stretched out one-piece outfit topped off with a pair of white sneakers.
“Speaking of, aren’t you supposed to have a moustache?”
“It’s in my pocket, didn’t want to make Jack feel bad, ‘cause he can’t grow one and all,” he mutters, reaching into the front of the outfit to retrieve the stick-on prop, the back still taped up and in-tact.
“Right,” you scoff, taking it from his hand and peeling the tape, “Jack can’t grow facial hair.”
You reach forward and press it to his upper lip, holding it in place until it sticks, careful not to actually touch his mouth in the process.
“I can grow it,” he rolls his eyes, “I just don’t suit it.”
“I don’t know,” you shrug as you pull back, admiring the results and trying not to laugh, “I’d say you suit it just fine.”
You reach into the pocket of your own dress to retrieve your phone, and snap a picture just to show him, pressing your lips together as you see his eyes widen in horror.
“Delete that,” he huffs, and you just about manage to stop him before he rips the thing off.
“No,” you whine, “Keep it on, it’s funny!”
“I don’t want to look funny, I want to look cool and hot.” He huffs, frowning when he seemingly realises how ridiculous that sounds.
“Halloween costumes aren’t supposed to be hot.”
“Easy for you to say, Princess,” he gestures down to your dress, and you once again have a visceral reaction to how natural it is for him to say things like that. You feel your ears going warm, and you break eye contact just so that he doesn’t see straight through you.
“I meant to say, sorry about this,” you gesture down, too, all of a sudden feeling every fibre of the costume that’s covering your skin, “I don’t know why I didn’t connect the dots sooner when Ellie said she and Jack were doing Mario and Peach. She just said she’d get me a costume, I didn’t think that we’d be-,”
“A couple?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s no big deal,” Luke shrugs, sipping at his drink with a nonchalant frown. “S’just a costume. Besides, what else could you have been? I don’t think they sell sexy Goomba outfits.”
“Please,” you scoff, swatting lightly at the blue overalls stretched across his chest. “Don’t be ridiculous, if anything, I’d be sexy Toad.”
“Hmm,” he considers, with a long glance down your figure. “That might have actually worked.”
You feel the heat creep back up your neck before you can regulate yourself, not concealed at all by the sweetheart neckline of your dress, or the way Luke’s eye linger on any exposed bit of skin.
You press your lips together and divert your attention to Jack and Ellie in the corner, feeling every extended inch of Luke’s presence beside you, your heart thumping at the mere proximity of him, and you start to chew on your bottom lip.
“Can’t believe we tried so hard to get them together,” you mumble, watching as they start to kiss, “They’re disgusting.”
“Absolutely revolting,” he agrees, “We were out of our minds all summer.”
You know he’s referring to the scheme you two kept up, you’re the one who even brought the topic into conversation, but you can’t help the instinctive way your chest starts to ache again at the mere mention of summer.
The two of you had talked about this, back in Ann Arbor, before he had come back to Jersey. You’re supposed to be over it, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. You swallow thickly before reaching for your drink and chugging down the contents, avoiding his gaze as he watches you.
The thought of leaving crosses your mind again, but there’s a larger part of you that has missed this - missed him, maybe - a little too much, and those weeks back in Michigan last month had only served to weaken your resolve.
Keeping your distance had been a giant failure from the second you started to attempt it, and Luke is persistent - that much has always been obvious - so denying him any sort of contact is just pointless, now.
You had thought, back when he had dropped you off at the house the other week, that turning down his offer of friendship had been the right thing to do. You’d told him you would think about it, but it was always going to end up in rejection.
He’s in Jersey, you’re in Michigan. He has a really hectic schedule and career, and you’re supposed to be putting your head down and studying for your final year.
He broke your heart, and you broke his right back.
But you realise that you were naive to think that your paths would hardly cross.
Your best friend is dating his brother. You have so many mutual friends that you can hardly avoid him when he’s back in town. And beyond all that, you miss the versions of the two of you that just got on - before it all got messy in the summer.
The banter, the inside jokes, the deep understanding of how each other worked.
And you had regretted it since - turning his offer down.
Bringing it back up again is daunting, though. Opening yourself up to him, to say that you’d been thinking about him this whole time, and feel a deep, ever growing pit in your stomach now at the thought of being nothing, just like he had said he felt.
“Listen,” you start, with all intentions of figuring it out as you go along, only now feeling a serious urge to fix things, somehow, before you go back home, tomorrow, “I-,”
“Hold on, I gotta introduce you to someone. Hey, Pesce,” he calls out to his ever so-slightly taller teammate as he passes nearby, waving him to stop by the table the two of you are at before he walks away. He introduces you both by name, and you don’t miss the silent interaction between the two of them as he does, wide eyes and wiggling brows, a telepathic taunt from Brett and a wordless warning from Luke. “She’s my friend from back in Michigan, and he’s been my rehab buddy.”
You allow yourself to be distracted by that - not Ellie’s friend. His. Not a plus one of a plus one, or an outsider hovering around the edges of a private party. Someone he wants his teammates to know.
You like it more than you ever thought you would.
You feel your lips turning up into a natural smile, and a weight lifting off your shoulders - 7 words erasing the need for an entire conversation, already.
You probably could have told him to go fuck himself and that you hated his guts back on the street outside your sorority, and he’d still be out here calling you his friend.
Persistent.
“It’s nice to meet you,” you tell Brett, reaching out to shake his hand, matching his firm grip and meeting his steely gaze.
“You too,” he smiles back, “I’ve heard-,”
“Lukey! Finally got a girl to notice you, huh?”
Another of Luke’s teammates approaches the table, and the absolute comedy of being introduced to a bunch of people in ridiculous costumes isn’t lost on you as he comes closer, a gigantic, teasing smirk almost overshadowed by a glaring red headpiece he wears.
“Nice to see ya, Curtis,” you watch as Luke embraces his other teammate, a wry, crooked grin on his face as he rolls his eyes fondly, and you try to ignore the weight of Brett’s discerning gaze on you. When he introduces you this time, Curtis shows no sign of recognition at your name, offering you a kind smile and extending his hand for you to shake.
“Not talking your head off, is he? We’ve tried to train it out of him, but he’s a stubborn thing,” he chuckles, ruffling Luke’s hair like he’s petting an excitable puppy.
“I’m used to it by now,” you shrug back, smiling when Luke scoffs, returning to your side.
“Nice costume,” Curtis looks Luke up and down, and it’s like you can see him trying to formulate a joke in his head, your lips twisting as you notice Luke anticipating the same, watching with a raised brow and a bored roll of his eyes. “That might be the closest we ever come to seeing you with facial hair.”
“Big talk coming from a dude dressed as shrimp.”
“I’m obviously a lobster, Luke.”
“Obviously,” Luke mimics back like a child, his face sour and his lips pouted as his older teammate just laughs in his face.
“C’mon, man,” Brett claps a hand on Curtis’ back, “Enough bruising the kid’s ego, you owe me a drink, remember?”
He knocks his free fist against Luke’s as he passes, offering you a wink and a nice to meet you before he’s guiding Curtis over to the bar and leaving the two of you alone, once more.
“Sorry about them,” Luke mutters, “I could save them both from a burning building and they’d still treat me like their annoying baby brother.”
“It’s cute,” you shrug, sipping at your drink and catching his eye as they narrow toward you, clearly taking further offence at your choice of adjective. “They do it ‘cause they love you, Luke, it’s sweet.”
You try not to react to what you’ve just said - try not to think of that sentiment in the context of your own interactions with Luke, lightheartedly poking fun at him just to get a reaction because he can be so gut-wrenchingly adorable.
It’s not the same.
But you can tell he’s thinking it too, looking at you with eyes that see straight through you, and a tilt to his head that’s almost mocking.
“I uhm,” he sighs, stepping back a little closer to you and leaning down on the table so that he has to look up to meet your eye, “I told Pesch about you. About us.”
You blink back at him, waiting for him to say more - not really knowing how to respond, because you kind of had a feeling anyway. Brett has the worst poker face you’ve ever seen in your life.
“It’s just been me and him training together, and we were getting to know each other, and you know how it is, he asked me about how I spent my summer, and about girls, and there’s just you for both, so it sorta just came out. Plus, I kinda felt like I had to talk about it with someone or I was gonna go crazy.”
You look down, giving a slight nod of understanding - because you do get it.
Also, the confirmation of something you’ve been wondering is kind of a relief. He hadn’t started anything with anyone else after you left, or back in Michigan, when you were making everything so hard on him.
There’s just him for you, too.
And it’s really hard, having one person consume your thoughts in such a way when you have no outlet to properly talk it through with anyone.
You never felt like you could talk to Ellie about any of it, and having all these feelings fizzing up inside you for so long is starting to make you feel like a volcano on the brink of eruption.
Luke had done the sensible thing, finding an unaffiliated third party and seeking advice from someone with no bias. No scathing comments from his brothers, judgement from any of the guys back in Michigan or pitiful looks from your best friend.
“I didn’t say anything bad,” he assures you, “Not that there is anything bad, I promise I don’t think poorly of you or anything, and I wouldn’t go around telling random people if I did, especially not my teammates, I don’t want you to think-,”
“Luke, it’s fine,” you place a hand on his forearm, his eyes snapping up to meet yours at the slightest touch, wide and alarmed, like he feels like he’s digging himself into a hole. “I get it. Sometimes I feel like I’m gonna go crazy, too.”
“You do?” He frowns, like that was the last thing he expected you to say.
You had told him you were hurt, so it can’t come as that much of a surprise that you feel some type of way about everything that went down between the two of you.
You’re not that heartless.
“What did you say to him?” You ask, hoping to engage with his incessant need to talk, rather than any attempt to eke information out of you. “About us?”
“Just that I didn’t like how we left things,” he tells you as you lean beside him, “It’s hard, not knowing where we stand, or what it’s gonna be like when I see you again. I still get the urge all the time to text you, even about stupid things. Someone was telling me about this Matthew McConaughey movie the other day, and I thought of you. Wanted to ask if you’d seen it.”
“It’s probably safe to assume I’ve seen all the Matthew McConaughey films. Even the bad ones.”
“It wasn’t on your Letterboxd.”
You swat at his bicep, your lips turning slowly into a grin as you can’t help but laugh at how little he cares about hiding his intentions.
You’d caught onto him monitoring your account somewhere between him coincidentally watching Notting Hill a couple days after you did while he was back in Michigan, the five star rating he gave to Call Me By Your Name, and him somehow knowing all the most obscure but gut-wrenching quotes from all the movies that really tore your heart out - writing them in his reviews like he was talking to you in some secret language that only the two of you spoke.
I think I’d miss you even if we never met, from The Wedding Date.
I’ll do anything to make you happy. Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it, from Past Lives.
There will be a piece of you in me always, from Her.
All movies you had listed after going home from the lake house - had laid in bed with teary eyes and trembling lips for the most part, and associated all those same quotes with him, too. And even without you putting them in your own reviews, he just knew every time which part of the movie made you think of your relationship.
You’d even tried baiting him out with Barbie, the other week, snorting to yourself despite your heartache when you imagined him seriously typing out, I only exist within the warmth of your gaze, without it, I'm just a little blonde guy who can't do flips, and hoping you would see it.
If anyone else had done it, it would probably have been corny. You’d have blocked them, the level of perception and lowkey invasion of privacy making your skin crawl - but Luke seeing you was different. Him being on the same wavelength - feeling the same feelings, thinking the same thoughts - was something you couldn’t ignore.
“You’re not supposed to admit to cyber stalking me, you idiot.”
“What?” He chuckles, rubbing at his arm, “I missed watching movies with you.”
He shrugs at that like it’s nothing, but you can feel your cheeks go warm even if his don’t. You missed watching movies with him too - missed the long stretch of his legs far surpassing yours on top of the sheets, and the way he’d hold out candy for you to get some every few minutes.
“Plus, you were stalking me, too. Why else would you be watching The Mighty Ducks on a Saturday night?”
“I thought it might teach me about hockey.” You frown, although you’d been all too caught up with just how cute those movies were. You still know very little about the sport, but you can still appreciate the charm of a young Joshua Jackson.
Luke smiles, lopsided and gentle, but you know by now that’s his version of cocky - the kind of smile that shows you that something you’ve said has scratched at his ego, and he’s banking it somewhere in the back of his head.
“I can teach you,” he says, his voice an octave lower as he leans in - and you know he isn’t doing it on purpose, but it makes the hairs on the back of your arms raise, how he almost purrs over to you. “Can give you a crash course if you want?”
“Now?”
“Nah,” he sips at his drink, “Another time. Need an excuse to text you remember?”
“You can text me whenever,” you tell him, chewing at the corner of your bottom lip as he smirks at you, “Just so you know.”
You don’t tell him that you’ve been waiting for him to do it, anyway.
That for those first few days after he finally left Michigan, every buzz of your phone had your heart rate doubling.
The first instant you had started to regret your decision, you had been hoping he would still try to change your mind.
You don’t tell him you started following a random team update account for news on how he was getting on with his injury, because he wasn’t letting you know, himself, or that you once spent an hour reporting people trolling him or talking smack in the comments just for something to do.
“What about FaceTime?”
“Don’t push your luck.”
To say you were planning on leaving as soon as you had arrived, you enjoyed yourself way more than you thought you would with Luke and his teammates - in fact, you’d probably go as far as to say it’s one of the best nights you’ve had since the summer.
Luke had introduced you to pretty much everybody, flitting around the room and making the rounds, and it had been nice to see how normal and nice everybody was - instantly making you felt like you belonged, to the point where you figured out that Luke had only said all that stuff about feeling like an outsider because he knew that was how you felt, knew it would tug at your heartstrings and make you stay.
You know from how close he is with the guys back in Michigan that Luke loves his teammates, but seeing it in action for the first time had been sweet. Seeing the other guys ruffling at his hair, play fighting, throwing their arms around him and indulging him in his corny jokes kind of made you feel less tense about the way you’re so instinctively affectionate with him.
Even after what had happened toward the end of summer, and swearing off any sort of romantic connection since, you still want to touch him, still want to be near him, and while you don’t think his teammates exactly have those same thoughts, it makes you feel a little more normal, how much they all love him. Makes you feel less like you should be wedging all this distance between the two of you - because if they all love him like this, then why can’t you?
You don’t even realise that Ellie and Jack have long snuck off until you get a text to say not to come back to the hotel, and that Jack’s bed is freshly clean for you to sleep in. The thought of it is gross, but you figure that two athletes will have a comfy couch, so you’re not all that bothered in the end.
Plus, it gives you more time with Luke - to have a proper conversation, to figure things out. So, when it’s time to leave, and he ushers you out of the bar with a hand on the small of your back, you let him cross the boundaries of being nothing, and lean into his touch until you’re out in the cold, wrapping your arms around yourself as he shrugs off his jacket.
“Put this on,” he demands, throwing it to you and watching as you catch it with a clumsy grip, “We’re walking.”
“Walking?” You ask, stumbling to catch up with him as he starts to make his way down the street, his long strides making it incredibly difficult, especially in the stupid costume heels you’re wearing. You ease into his jacket as you move, shaking your arms until your fingers just about peak out of the ends, and relishing the warmth that encapsulates your body.
“Yeah, it’s 10 minutes. I know that sounds like a lifetime in campus terms, but I’m assuming you still know how to walk.”
You scoff as you pretty much jog to keep up, taking rushed, small steps until you just about make it to his side. “I don’t have a car, remember, I walk everywhere. I just assumed we’d be getting an Uber or something."
“S’good for you,” he shrugs, “Clears the mind. And it’s only a few blocks back to the apartment. I can show you all the best breakfast spots for you and Ellie to visit before you leave tomorrow.”
“But it’s dark out.”
“What, you’re scared of the dark, now?” He looks down at you from the corner of his eye, his height advantage meaning you can so clearly see the amused way in which his mouth curves up on the side closest to you.
“I’m scared of being abducted in a back alley and brutally murdered so that my organs can be sold on the black market.”
“That happens more on the other side of the river,” he hooks a thumb in the general direction of what you assume is the Hudson, but it could be anywhere for all you know. This is your first time in New Jersey, and your brief expedition into Manhattan in the morning had done very little to clue you in on the lay of the land.
“Murder is an international issue, Luke, I don’t think they draw the line at what state they do it in, look it up.”
“You watch too much TV,” he chuckles, “Who’s gonna mess with you when I’m around? Look at me,” he gestures down to his ridiculous costume, “I’m the picture of intimidation. You don’t think I’d protect you from the black market organ thieves?”
“You’re dressed like an Italian plumber, you dork, and you’ve got arms like toothpicks, they’d probably kill you first just for fun.” You retort, grabbing at his arm to bring him back to your pace. You almost can’t believe that in the brief expanse of one evening, you could possibly have returned to this level of comfort, but you’re trying not to think too hard about it - especially with a mind partially loosened up by a couple of drinks. “Could you at least slow down? Your legs are like twice the length of mine.”
“Aw,” he pouts, “Do you want me to carry you?”
“Don’t joke, I’d pay good money for a piggy back right now.”
“Shame I’ve got such toothpick arms then, isn’t it?” he fakes an exaggerated smile, and you narrow your eyes until he drops it.
You huff as he carries on, thankful at the slightly slower pace he seems to have adopted, and the way his chin keeps jutting in your direction to check on how well you’re keeping up.
“What about a fireman’s carry?” You suggest, looking up at him with pleading eyes and pouted lips.
“The best you’ll get is me giving you my gloves to wear as socks and I’ll carry your shoes for you.”
“And if I step on glass, cut into a vein and bleed out?”
“I suppose then I’d carry you.”
This feels familiar.
Feels comfortable and right, and when you look back on those nights in September when you had seen him - at the football game, in the living room back at the sorority, and the party at the hockey house, this is what you’d felt like you had been missing.
It doesn’t have to be awkward, or charged, or tense between the two of you.
Maybe it can be like this again.
Like it was in the beginning, before everything got messed up.
“I meant to ask earlier,” he nudges at you with his elbow, “Ellie said you had an appointment over in Midtown,”
“You’re such a stalker,” you snort, shaking your head with a wry smile as you glance over at him, “Literally the snoopiest guy I’ve ever met.”
“Snoopiest?” He scoffs, “It’s called curiosity. I can’t wonder what my friend did with their day, now? I’m snoopy?”
“There’s a masters programme at NYU,” your eyes dart down to the floor as you start to tell him, figuring that you’ll feel less nervous if it just feels like you’re speaking in general, instead of confiding in him. There’s also a part of you spurred on by his immediate adoption of you being his friend - still reeling from the ease in which he had been introducing you as such to everyone all night. Opening up to him is just as easy, and now that you’re embracing the dynamic, it’s like the pieces that form all the resistance within you are shifting out of place, creating a bunch of cracks for him to seep straight into. “One of my sorority sisters has a cousin who’s in her final year, she set up a meeting so that I could talk about my application.”
“You’re applying to NYU?” He asks, quickening his step until he is a little ahead of you, turning on his feet until he’s walking backwards, giving you no chance of ignoring his presence anymore.
“I’m thinking about it,” you shrug, “It isn’t a done deal, so don’t tell anybody.”
“I can keep a secret,” he promises, and that same ache starts to form in your chest again, at just how well you know that to be true.
“Plus, it’s a long-shot, so even if I did apply, I probably wouldn’t get in, and I don’t want to get Ellie’s hopes up that I’ll be sticking around.”
You have a job lined up elsewhere already for when you graduate - an entry level role in a PR agency over in Chicago, close to home, close to your mom - but the more you’re considering it, the less sure you are. The job would be pretty much you getting taken advantage of for being a recent graduate, and furthering your education could help secure something bigger and better. But throwing away a sure thing seems stupid, and you don’t really want to do so if you don’t have something else secured.
“Getting into the NHL is a long shot, and you’ve just spent the night in a room full of people who made it happen,” Luke tells you, ducking his head a little lower until you look him in the eye, “Don’t underestimate yourself, you’re really smart, you’ll get in if you do end up applying.”
The way he says it is so sure - so different to anybody else, who you feel like is just saying it to make you feel better. Luke believes it, you can see it in the way he looks at you, confident and certain of your abilities more than you’ve ever been in yourself.
“I don’t think you can call you getting into the NHL a long shot, unfortunately,” you tell him, your lips twisting in the corner as you bite back a smile when he starts to frown.
“Not you too with the nepotism stuff,” he scoffs, only partially feigning offence.
You swat at his chest, “Hey, I’d never,” you gasp, “I meant ‘cause you’re so talented.”
“I bet you did,” he snorts, falling back into step beside you, a little closer this time, your elbows knocking as you continue to walk. “Haven’t even played yet this season, what would you know about my talent?”
You think it’s the way he’s leaning in a little that seems to hypnotise you, rendering you a speechless, practically-spluttering mess as you struggle to form words or a single, coherent thought. You wonder if this is how he felt, all those times when you turned on the charm and innuendo and purposely tried to push his buttons. Defenceless and weak.
“I’ll tell you what I do have a talent for,” he straightens up a little, increasing the space between you so that you feel like you can at least breathe again. “Important old man voice. If you ever need to put someone down as a phoney reference.”
“I’ll bare that in mind when the NYU admissions board loosens their policy on Kevin McAllister level schemes, thanks,” you chuckle, your smile lingering when he returns it, cheeks folding into a lopsided grin.
“Hey, give a guy some credit, there’s a little Ferris Bueller in there too.”
“Yeah, ‘cause schools love Ferris Bueller types.” You scoff, “You’re such an idiot.”
You glance over to see him pretty much beaming in response, and, if you were a betting person, you’d put all your money on knowing his exact train of thought.
You have a tell, after all, you remember, for when you’re enjoying yourself more than you think you should be.
Walking back to his apartment gives the two of you a little time to properly catch up - away from tense conversations and teary admissions - he tells you about his training, you tell him about school, and it feels like seconds pass before he’s ushering you into his building with that same guided hand on your lower back, the heat of his touch felt even through his jacket, and into the elevator.
You stand by his side as it slowly ascends, hands buried in the warmth of his jacket pockets and ever so often meeting his eye in the reflection of mirrored doors before you glance away with a flush to your cheeks.
Every time you look back, he’s smiling a little, soft and small, but sure of himself in a way that makes all those hardened parts of you melt a little inside.
There’s something different about him that you can’t quite put your finger on - something in the way he carries himself, around his teammates, around you, even just in general - like he stands taller, somehow. Like here in Jersey, he makes a point to hold himself up a little more, and it makes you cherish the version of him you had, those months ago - vulnerable and raw.
You hadn’t appreciated at the time, just how much of himself he gave to you - all the little quirks and insights you got to see - but you appreciate them, now.
“I had fun tonight,” you tell him, smiling instinctively when he meets your eye, “Thanks for not letting me leave.”
“Thanks for not leaving,” he chuckles, the doors opening in front of you and that hand going straight to your back again until he’s guiding you towards his apartment. “It’s been nice just talking to you again, I missed it.”
“Me too,” you admit, because there’s really no use in keeping it bottled up when he’s so freely opening himself up to you. He so easily tells you that he misses you, and wants to speak to you, and it enjoys your company, so you not doing the same only feels like you’re doing yourself a disservice - especially when admitting as much back to him earns you one of those cute, crooked smiles he’s so good at giving.
He holds open the door for you and you have to brush past him to go in, but your hesitance to touch has long dissipated throughout the night, so you don’t entirely mind when he follows you straight in, and you can feel the heat of his presence.
“Are you wanting to go straight to bed?” He asks, hand on your waist as he passes you and heads for the kitchen, flicking on the lights under the cabinets and getting two glasses down from one of the cupboards.
“I probably should,” you huff, despite wanting to stretch this out with Luke - your mind going back to I miss watching movies with you, and considering flopping down onto the couch and putting something on, for old time’s sake. “Is your couch comfy? I don’t really want to sleep in Jack’s bed.”
“You can sleep in mine,” he offers, before he even has a second to consider it.
“Oh, I don’t know-,”
“I’ll go in Jack’s, it’s fine,” he nods down the hall, gesturing you to follow as he carries two glasses of water, knocking the handle to the room on the left until the door opens and letting you go in first.
The sheets are the same as on his bed back at the lake house, and it’s the first thing that takes you aback, a familiar grey-blue comforter that you already feel the softness of from across the room, and a cream throw haphazardly thrown across the top.
You can tell the sheets aren’t entirely fresh - slightly crumpled, and not-very-neatly made, pillows askew - but if you’re sleeping in Luke’s bed, weirdly enough, you would probably prefer it that way.
“Sorry, I should have tidied up a little,” he chuckles nervously as he passes you to place a glass down on the nightstand.
“It’s fine,” you shrug, stepping forward just to fall down onto his bed - the mattress plush enough that you already feel yourself sinking into it, tension easing away from your muscles.
You’re kind of glad you kept an eye on him, watching his gaze shift to the way your dress now rides up on your thighs, and the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows thickly before looking away.
“I’ll just get something to change into then I’ll get outta your hair,” he mumbles, trying to busy himself with something else as a distraction. Just before he can pass you to his closet, you reach out to grab at his wrist, and it’s almost like muscle memory is forcing you to do so - something within you not allowing him to get away.
He’s in front of you now, close enough that you kind of have to crane your neck the whole way to look up at him, and you watch as his eyes drag slowly from the point of contact to meet yours, every movement he makes unhurried and purposeful.
“I just wanted to say thank you again, for tonight,” you start, speaking without any real plan as to what you want to say, but wanting to keep him just a little longer, “For keeping me company, and letting me stay in here-,”
“It’s no big deal-,”
“And for not letting me push you away.”
It might be the first time you’ve ever owned up to it - being the master of your own downfall, or the downfall of your relationship with Luke, and anything you still could have been after the fact - and it isn’t easy, admitting that you’re the problem.
But you feel like you owe it to him, as a reward for all this resilience in the face of your constant rejection. He’s been nothing but patient, and you’ve been nothing but hard work, and you’re willing to admit, now, that you’re done with it.
He smiles, eyes knowing, the relieved, breathy sigh he gives dissolving all the guilt that’s building in the depths of your gut, and sinks down beside you on the bed, his thigh brushing yours as he settles in.
Hours ago, being this close would have terrified you. You’d have shut down, turned away, shuffled across the sheets until there was a healthy distance between the two of you, but you don’t move. You just turn, a little, to be able to meet his eye.
“Are you saying you’re done with that?” He asks, a little hesitant, assuming, probably, that you won’t be entirely open with him.
But you nod, chewing at the corner of your bottom lip as he presses his own together, eyes darting a little lower.
“So we’re friends?” He asks, his voice low, the depth of it causing a weird vibration to wrack down your body - a buzz that won’t go away, now that he’s this close, and he’s looking at you the way he is.
“If that’s what you still want to be.”
The thought of him changing his mind makes you a little dizzy, an ache growing in your chest again at the thought of being nothing - but you’d deserve it, you think, after all the times you turned him down.
It would hurt, but, as always, it would be your own doing.
“And we won’t ever be more?”
The pleading tone in which he asks makes the back of your throat go dry, and all you can do to respond, now, is shake your head. Slowly, and hesitantly, but it shakes all the same, tears welling in the corners of your eyes as you take in his resigned acceptance.
And then, something shifts.
A subtle shake of his head, as if he’s fighting an inner monologue, and then an assured switch in his demeanour - a tilt of his head as he surveys your reluctance, and the swipe of his tongue to wet his lips, like he’s preparing to fight back.
“If I kissed you right now,” he asks, voice still low, eyes lower, pinned to the curve of your lips as they part as if by instinct, “Would you tell me to stop?”
“Luke,” you warn, no more than a whisper as you watch his lips too, “We can’t.”
“That’s not what I asked,” his eyes trail slowly up until your gazes meet, and his head tilts again in question, blinking heavily before he asks, “Would you push me away?”
Your lips form around a response that you can’t even think to give back, opening around an answer you’re not ready to give at all, and all your body wants to do is deny. You fight the urge to shake your head, but you think that it’s a losing battle, especially considering how much your brain feels like it’s being rattled around anyway.
You don’t know what you do to make him move forward, but you figure by now you don’t actually have to do anything. He can probably read your mind at this point, spurred on no doubt by the way your eyelids flutter closed when he’s close enough, and the tip of his nose presses to yours, slow, heavy breaths falling into the decreasing space between the two of you.
You should stop him. You know that.
It isn’t good for either of you, letting this carry on, leaving the edges of your relationship so frayed that even the smallest tug could pull the whole thing apart, thread by thread.
You should tell him to stop, should push him away, should hold a lighter to the loose ends and singe them together to prevent further damage. You’ve only just settled on friends, and now you’re not sure, again.
But the second he gets this close, you’re not in charge, anymore.
It’s like some force of nature takes over, brings the two of you together like tectonic plates meeting, and causing unfathomable destruction to both of your hearts in the aftermath.
His kiss is so instantly tender that it hurts already, tears prickling at the seams of your scrunched-closed eyes, and all you can do is push through the pain. You kiss him back, lips closing around his again and again as your faces smush together, and you start to feel the passion consume him - something takes over almost like an urgency, where you’re clawing at his the front of his costume and he’s clutching at your waist, doing anything physically possible to close whatever gap still sits between you.
The pressure of his lips is almost bruising, now, but you like it that way - soft exhales puffing out from his nose so that he doesn’t have to part to catch his breath, fingers pressing so hard into your flesh that you hope they leave a mark.
He tastes just how you remember, and it takes you back all those months to summer - to stolen kisses over centre consoles and making out in his bed when everyone else was out. There’s a part of you that feels giddy with it, just like you had then, partaking in something so precious that was just for the two of you, and it starts to distract you from what this actually is.
A mistake.
You pull away instead of pushing, bringing your chin back until your lips part with much effort, a hmmph and a furrow of your brow, and you can’t bring yourself to open your scrunched eyes, not yet, but you know when he’s going to chase.
“Luke,” you whisper in warning before your eyes flutter open and you peer up at him through your lashes. He looks so soft, you think, despite all the ways he tries not to. Despite the sharp line of his jaw, and the hardened look in his eyes. You feel your walls crumbling at just the sight of him - defenceless to his charms, once again, because how much could Luke possibly hurt you? “Friends don’t do that.”
“Maybe our friendship starts tomorrow,” he hums back, “Maybe we get this out of our systems one more time.”
And it’s sitting on the precipice of that feeling you’ve been chasing since July that has you considering it - ever so close to finally getting closure on whatever the two of you were, or could have been.
Getting it out of your system sounds healthy. Sounds like a clean slate, a fresh start, and you have no doubt that if you’re going to be friends with Luke Hughes, that it’s exactly what you need in order to do so.
Because, if you’re honest, it’s that exact thing that’s been holding you back this entire time - closure. With such an abrupt end to what the two of you had, how could you ever possibly close that chapter mid-sentence? How could you ever move on?
“One more time,” you try to sound stern, try to convince yourself of your own words, “Then we have to let this go.”
“You got it.”
“No more Luke, I mean it.” You have to push down this feeling of impending doom, or you’ll never get anywhere, but you need to warn him one last time, just to be safe. “Strictly friends after tonight.”
“I already agreed, can you please just let me kiss you again?”
“Okay, fine, just,” you huff, hands splayed across his broad chest and pushing until your bodies part, his butt shuffling back on the bed. “Take the costume off, first, I’m not feeding into whatever dorky cosplay fetish you probably have.”
You’re only part joking, but it’s the only way you know how to relieve the tension a little, and your nerves start to dissipate at his reaction.
He chuckles, with the kind of cocky smile that makes your heart jump, reaching behind himself to unzip the back of his costume with an affectionate shake of his head. He stands, then, to shuck it off, the whole thing dropping off of him until he kicks it across the floor, towards his laundry hamper, then stands in just his briefs, which are slung low on his waist. “You can keep yours on, I don’t mind,” he tells you when you’re distracted by the taut, defined lines on his stomach, eyes trailing slowly up to meet his, gleaming back at you.
“You’d love that wouldn’t you,” you scoff, watching as he draws closer, shuffling back a little on the bed to accommodate him, “You absolute freak.”
“You can’t sit there and pretend you don’t want me to call you princess again.” He smirks, bending down until his hands are on either side of your hips, and you’re leaning back with your fingers pressed into his sheets and your head craned back to meet his eye, “Saw you getting all flustered about it, earlier.”
“Shut up,” you huff, curling a hand around the back of his neck and pulling him down into you - the two of you colliding in a clumsy, messy kiss. His body crawls over yours, encapsulating you entirely in an intoxicating warmth, and you find yourself melting into his every touch - large hands running down your sides, settling on your waist, and the other easing its way under the skirt of your costume.
You put both hands to use too, one remaining behind his neck, scratching into the grown out curls that sit there and tugging when he starts to tickle up your thigh, the other on the warm skin of his chest - the rampant thud of his heart beating against your palm.
One more time, just to get him out of your system.
And then you can be friends.
What could possibly go wrong?
another a/n: I'll try to finish the next part asap!! thank you for reading, I know this was long lmao!! would love to hear your thoughts!!!!
#luke hughes#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes imagine#nhl imagine#nhl fanfiction#luke hughes fluff#*writing#GUYS GUYS GUYS I HOPE YOU LOVE THIS I GENUINELY HAVE SO MUCH FUN WITH THESE TWO#AND I HAD SO MUCH FUN AFTER LET IT HAPPEN#SO THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE ON IT!!!! I FEEL LIKE WE ALL BUILT SOMETHING MAGIC TOGETHER
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reincarnation ✧.* formula 1
part 2
: ̗̀➛ pairing: formula 1 x senna!reincarnation!male!oc (nico santos) : ̗̀➛ warnings: strong language, people shipping drivers but nothing serious, bromance, hate comments : ̗̀➛ author’s note: i wrote this before and got a lot of hate for it. if it’s not your thing, just scroll past—no need to spread negativity. i didn’t write this just to read mean comments.
: ̗̀➛ smau
danielricciardo ✔︎
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liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, nicosantos and 1.3m others
danielricciardo the funniest part was... i had to held him back so he didn't murder anyone yesterday
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user1 reason 727390 why daniel and nico are my fav duo
user2 showed my dad a picture of nico and he said he hasn't seen anything of senna in years i had to explain to him that this is not senna 😭
user3 my mom said that too!! but nico hates being called senna
charles_leclerc i haven't seen nico that mad ever
user4 why is the first picture so wholesome tho omg
user5 because danny is wholesome
user6 nico was ready to commit a whole crime and daniel said ✨no✨
maxverstappen1 i was lowkey scared for my life not gonna lie
user7 danny out here being the emotional support human for a guy who could probably fight god
user8 nah but the way nico looks at daniel in the vid… y’all seeing this or am i delulu
user3 the way his eyes soften when he looks at daniel is so cute
user5 y'all are so delusional he didn't even look at daniel 😭
lando nico was pacing like a dad whose kid just crashed his car 💀
user9 why does every chaotic duo have one guy who keeps the other from getting arrested
user10 danny being the only thing between nico and a felony is so on brand
nicosantos ✔︎
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nicosantos mood after yesterday
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user1 help nico really wanted to throw hands 😭😭
nicosantos you know it
user2 nico has a cat???
user3 it's max's cat lmaoo
user4 he kinda fine
user5 i have been saying that but no one listens to me
user6 the way he just crouched by daniel’s car like it’s some kind of secret mission 💀
user7 lowkey nico should’ve been in the movie ‘mad man on the edge'
user8 no way you can look at them and not see the chemistry. it's so obvious
user9 nah, the way nico looks at daniel in that video is giving ‘you’re mine’ vibes
user10 no wtf don't say that...
user11 why do i feel like nico is totally in love with daniel and he just doesn’t know it yet?
user12 why is everyone suddently shipping them hello
user13 bc daniel hugged nico at the press conference 😭
nicosantos ✔︎
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nicosantos ok, so we look alike. i get it. but let’s be real, i’m not him. just because we share a lot similarities doesn’t mean we’re the same person. i’ve been getting a lot of hate in my DMs, and honestly, it’s getting old. so, can we all just chill and let me live my own life? respect is all i’m asking for
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user1 literally, it’s just a resemblance, relax people
user2 the hate is so uncalled for. nico deserves respect not this mess
user3 people acting like he’s actually senna’s clone, chill out
user4 he's trying really hard to be 🙄
user5 the fact that nico has to explain this is crazy. let him breathe
user6 you can’t just deny the resemblance though, it’s a little weird you’re acting like it’s nothing
nicosantos i’m not denying it, but i’m also not claiming to be someone i’m not. it’s not that complicated
user7 he’s just salty because people keep bringing up senna. get over it
user8 he doesn’t owe anyone an apology for looking like someone. leave him alone
niconews ✔︎
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liked by 47k users
niconews eyes never lie... this was nico just a day after all the hate he’s been facing recently. in a raw moment during an interview, when asked, "you seem pretty pissed at the situation," he didn’t hold back. nico responded, "well, people stick their noses in everyone’s business without thinking about feelings. i didn’t ask to be born the way i am, i’m just trying to live my life." his voice cracked, and despite trying to hold it together, tears started to form. it was a moment that showed just how much this constant pressure has been affecting him. in a world where we all expect people to be perfect or fit into certain molds, nico's vulnerability spoke volumes.
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user1 it's heartbreaking to see someone so kind and real get treated like this
user2 the pressure he must be under is insane. we forget these are real people
user3 this is so unfair, just let the guy breathe for once
user4 he’s literally milking the whole senna comparison for attention. stop pretending like it’s all ‘the haters’
niconews if you think that’s what this is about, you clearly missed the point
user4 he’s literally crying over people pointing out how much he looks like senna? get over it niconews it’s not about looks, it’s about respect. maybe try understanding that
nicosantos ✔︎
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nicosantos bromance is real
tagged: lando
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user1 aww the senna cap
user2 i love nico he's adorable
user3 lando 😭😭
user4 lando is always the funniest person in the group
user5 nico with the senna cap is a whole vibe. love the respect for the legend
user6 this is the kind of bromance we all need in our lives
user7 nico wearing the senna cap but being his own person? love that for him
nicosantos see now i can't tell if you're being sarcastic or fr 💀
user7 i was being fr 😭😭
user8 someone tell lando to stop being this extra, i can’t keep up
#formula 1#mclaren formula 1#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula one#ayrton senna#senna#senna netflix#formula racing#lando norris x you#lando norris x oc#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando norris#daniel ricciardo#daniel riccardo x reader#daniel riccardo imagine#lando norris imagine#senna x reader#smau#f1#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 smau#male oc
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Fun fact
In divorces the kids usualyl end up with teh mother
EXCEPT
If the question of custody goes to court
Then teh kids usualyl end up with teh father
Even against the expressed wishes of the kid
Becasue obviously the only reason why a kid doesn't want their daddy is becasue the evil evil ex has poisoned the kids mind ...
People in the comments saying Grimes deserves this need to understand you can have sympathy/empathy for bad people. Grimes being a problematic ignorant weirdo does not mean she is undeserving of sympathy. Especially when innocent children are involved.
Well
People need to understand that you don't owe sympathy/empathy to bad people. :-)
Look
I am furious that we live in a system where a husabnd can treat his wife like that
Where a father can treat his baby moma and his kid like that
I am glad we live in a society where no fault divorce exists and I am glad she has legall options even if it isn't looking to good for her
All of these things are systemic issues that we should abolish tout suit
-> Of course that would be easier if we didn't ALSO have to fight rumplethinskin ... but that is a different discussion
I do not feel personal sympathie for her
She started dating Musk in 2018
Back then we already knew what kind of person he was
But she thought she was diffeent
She thought the Leopads would never eat her face
Same with Steven Crowders wife
I am sad anyones spouse would treat them like that
I am furious there is little to be done
I am glad she can get a no fault divorce
I am furious he is fighting her for soul costudy, becasue it is clearly about power and control. -> Considering whta he put her through during her high risk pregnancy he clearly doesn't give a shit about the kid
I still have no personal sympathy for her
If you marry a sexist, racist, fascist asshole
Who very openly is a sexist, racist, fascist asshole
Actually, who is making money on teh internet with being very openly and very publically a sexist, racist, fascist asshole
If you marry said sexist, racist, fascist asshole and then his treatment of you is that of an sexist, racist, fascist asshole
Then that is on you
Becasue you thought the leopards would never eat your face
Becasue you are hot property
And she thought being hot property would protect her from sexist, racist, fascist assholes
Well
It doesen't
TL;DR If everyone tells you that hitting yourself with a hammer in teh head is painfull and you go ahead and hit yourself wit a hammer in teh head becasue you know better Don't expect me to come running with teh hankies. I am bussy comforting people who where hit with a hammer by other people ... I am bussy fighting for helmets Maybe just don't hit yourself in teh head with a hammer YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL YOU ARE NOT THE EXCEPTION
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It's weird this isn't talked about more, but Elon basically kidnapped his son. He used his lawyers to near bankrupt Grimes in her custody battle and it's unclear if she has any access to her son at this point.
Grimes can be an unsympathetic figure at times, but this is just awful. Especially since it seems Elon is using this young boy as an anti-assassination tactic.
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Dae-ho tic where him and reader always sabotage each others relationships/talking stages with other people because they want each other but are afraid to say it
4 attempts
Kang Dae-ho (player 388) x fem!reader
A/N- I giggled writing this!
Warning- Angst and fluff!!
————
1st attempt-
This first sabotage was as simple as breathing. Maybe Dae-ho is being cocky, or your possible boyfriend was insecure, but it truly was a simple task. Dae-ho happened to catch that you were going to hang out at your house and he came stumbling by at your door.
“Dae-ho,” you stammer with surprise as you see him outside your door.
Said man smiles his charming smile and holds your gaze. “Hey, sorry for not calling beforehand but I was in the neighborhood and I had this,” he says as he shows off one of your favorite desserts, replacing your annoyance with temptation.
“You’re not going out right?” He follows his comment with a question he knows the answer to.
“No, but I have someone over. A date. Potential boyfriend,” you reveal, but it doesn’t bring him any surprise, he pretends to be shocked but he knows that too.
“Well I am your best friend,” he points out. “I need to meet him anyway. What harm can it bring?”
You contemplate his comment and also glance at the bag in his hand as if that delicious dessert is what is winning you over, but the truth is a part of you is relieved he’s here, interrupting this moment. You don’t let yourself accept that but you are and that part of yourself that is steps back to open the door wider so he may walk in.
When you close the door behind him your date interjects with a question as he walks over. “Who was it?”
When he makes it to the entrance of the house he comes to a sudden halt and straightens up as he sees Dae-ho at your side with a small smile that was too smug rather than friendly.
“Kang Dae-ho, her best friend,” he introduces himself and then gets closer to your date to offer him his hand.
Your date glances at his hand with his breath caught in his throat and then looks over at you with uncertainty before drawing out a deep breath and taking Dae-ho’s hand without meeting his eye.
“I am sorry for intruding,” Dae-ho doesn’t fail to be respectful as he makes himself at home right away and walks to the dining table to set his stuff down. “But I was in the neighborhood and bought some of her favorite dessert and well what friend would I be if I didn’t share?” Dae-ho says as you quickly join him while your date follows behind slowly, catching your eagerness that you failed to show him.
“However, I am sorry that I didn’t bring you any. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” your date quickly assures him as he finally reaches the table.
Dae-ho flashes him a faint smile before he reaches in the bag and pulls out a small box and napkin and hands it to you. He doesn’t finish there though, he pulls out a drink kept inside the bag and as if expecting it, you take it without so much as looking, letting your date know for certain what he needs to do.
So by morning, just as Dae-ho wanted, your date cut all communication with you with a blunt text.
——
2nd attempt-
Failing is hardly something you did. Sure you do fail from time to time, you are only human, but it’s not something you let slide often, but today…today was one of those days. You failed horribly.
“You’re his best friend, you know him more than anyone could so tell me honestly what he's like,” Dae-ho’s date tries to interrogate you out of genuine curiosity. With no ill intent. You recognize that with the way she carries herself, the way she acts, and the way she looks at him with genuine interest and affection. Maybe that’s what makes you fail or maybe it’s what she says next
”I really like him,” she says. “I just want to know if I'm wasting my time and getting my hopes up to later get them crushed.”
Your stomach twists and irritation rushes through your veins. You don’t even take time to question yourself if you want to shatter her feelings and stomp on her illusions, that irritation takes over before you know it.
“He may be my friend but,” you pause and take a step closer to her. “I have to be honest because no one else will,” you speak with a honey-laced voice. “He’s not particularly loyal. It may seem like that now but in a couple weeks he will be texting other girls. It happened last time.”
The girl’s lashes bat as she deals with the disappoint you just hit her with and steps away as she ducks her head.
“If only I warned you before you came,” you say as you reach over and pat her hand. “Just don’t tell him I told you so.”
You finish with a sweet smile and stroke her hand before you walk out a bit too overzealous, but how could you not be?
You might have failed at containing your…burning feelings, but what you told Dae-ho’s date worked because by the next day she asked him out for coffee and ended things with him.
——
3rd attempt-
Maybe it’s the men you date, or maybe men in particular happen to be more jealous than women but don’t dare to admit it. Or maybe, just maybe, it was Dae-ho stepping over the line. Again.
Whether he meant to or not it didn’t matter. You were at the concert of your favorite artist and Dae-ho happened to be there too. It was on purpose, he happened to like that artist too so why would he miss it?
Now you were at two separate sides of the stadium, but when it came down to it, when you were drunk off the excitement, Dae-ho made his way to you and there was no stopping either of you now.
You both sang at the top of your lungs, jumped, and danced like no one was watching when someone was. Your boyfriend. He was next to you, but with Dae-ho there and stepping over the line, singing with you, and dancing too close for comfort, it’s like your boyfriend didn’t exist. He didn’t even feel like a third wheel because he felt invisible.
Or you just didn’t care about him when it came to Dae-ho. Maybe Dae-ho is all you need. He’s all you care about—no, he’s the one person you care about most in this world so no one else can even be at his level.
It was easy to see, and it was even more obvious that Dae-ho recuperated those feelings with the way he looked at you so affectionately and beamed at you so brightly. He laughs at the little things you say and can never keep his eyes off you; it’s like he’s making sure nothing or no one causes you any harm.
He may be charming and look like he could not harm a fly, but anyone could see how protective Dae-ho was without having to even bare his teeth.
Yet that’s not what sent your boyfriend fleeing, it was a smaller fact. A gesture that could mean nothing but can also mean the world. You shared a drink. You had finished yours so Dae-ho said you could drink from his cup, and that’s what hurt your boyfriend the most because he looked down at his own cup and it was still halfway full, making it just enough to share with you, but you didn’t even look his way. Not even to ask to buy some more, so when he could, he broke up with you, giving Dae-ho a win.
——
Last attempt-
If things were simple you would be able to accept your feelings. You would be happy with the person you think about the most. The one person you love more than life itself, but here you are, with makeup running down your cheeks in a restaurant after a man you hardly liked confessed to cheating on you.
Maybe you should’ve expected it. It’s karma after what you’ve done to sabotage Dae-ho’s relationship, but it didn’t stop it from hurting.
As to why your boyfriend told you in a restaurant of all places? You don’t know, but it made it worse; knowing all the people are staring, and listening in to the drama that unfolded before them.
Yet your embarrassment is not what sends you fleeing. You could have walked out when you were collected and no longer had makeup staining your cheeks, but you can’t handle the pain, you can’t contain the ball of emotions that keeps growing and makes your throat and eyes burn, so you swiftly grab all your belongings and storm out of the restaurant. In doing so, on your way out, you bump into none other than your best friend Dae-ho.
At first, he didn’t recognize you, but it does hit him once you’re out the door that it was you. So with a quick dismissive comment over his shoulder to his date, he runs after you.
Dae-ho calls out to you as you storm away with your arms wrapped around your body to keep as much warmth as possible on this winter night, but you don’t stop, so without so much as thinking about his date, he runs after you to catch up. Once he’s close enough he grabs your shoulder before you can take another step and turns you around.
When you look him in the eye and realize it’s not your boyfriend but Dae-ho, you break down into a sob. “Dae-ho,” you mewl.
Said man looks at you like he’s been wounded and grabs your shoulders. “What’s wrong? What happened?” He quickly bombards you with questions.
You sniffle and part your lips. “My boyfriend, he—he.” You can’t even finish what you’re going to say because of how choked up you get, and he doesn’t wait or pester you to finish. He immediately wraps his arms around you and hugs you against him, basking you in his warmth and comfort.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he tries to soothe you as he rubs your back. “You’re going to be okay.”
You let out another shaky sob and grip onto him so he wouldn’t let go. Neither of you proceed to utter a thing, you stand under the falling snow and let the bitterness nip at any exposed skin it can reach.
It’s only once your shoulders stop shaking and Dae-ho’s date is long gone after being forgotten, that you pull away, but he doesn’t let you stray far, he cups your jaw and holds your gaze with tenderness.
“He cheated on me,” you whisper hoarsely, making him sigh with pity.
“I’m sorry,” he says as he strokes your cheeks with the tip of his cold fingers. “He’s an asshole.”
You nod gently and sniffle again. “I don’t even know why I dated him. I didn’t even like him, but I thought maybe…just maybe it would help.”
Dae-ho blinks with confusion and he quickly he follows up on your question. “Help what?”
You avert your gaze and sniffle. Your pause lasts for a moment. It’s only when his hand falls on your shoulder and the other falls at his side that you speak up.
“Forget my feelings for you.”
A cloud of Dae-ho’s breath forms in the space past his lips as he can’t help but gasp.
“I went into that relationship knowing what I felt, but I also know that you don’t feel the same and I can’t possibly live with that so I had to forget, but he…” you trail off and slowly lift your gaze, meeting his bewildered eyes.
“Who,” he stammers and you lose all contact with him as he pulls his hand off your shoulder. “Why…why would you think I don’t have the same feeling you do? I love you,” he admits, stealing your breath and making you feel as if you’re out of this world.
“All this time,” he adds as he watches you work through your disbelief. “I was just…scared that it would ruin us. If I had known—all those dates I’ve been on…” he trails off and grabs your shoulders so you can look him in the eyes as he then continues firmly. “…If it’s true that you feel what I do, tell me and I will stop wasting my time with nobodies.”
You blink in disbelief and your lips part because of the same feelings.
It’s hard to process the fact that he shares the same love you have for him, but that fear of letting him know no longer exists. You’re just hesitant because you’re still caught in disbelief.
“I…I do,” you confess slowly, making him beam at you before he presses his forehead against yours.
“I was going to kiss you, but I think it would be wrong considering…” he doesn’t finish saying but you know he’s referring to your situation.
“Hm,” you hum and grab his face this time to press a light kiss on his lips. “For warmth.” You giggle.
He can’t stop smiling. His smile brightens as he keeps you close with the intention to not let you stray from him anymore.
#fanfiction#damn-stark#player 388#squid game#squid game fanfiction#squid game request#player 388 fanfiction#player 388 x reader#player 388 x you#player 388 x fem!reader#Kang dae ho x fem!reader#kang dae ho x reader#kang dae ho x you#kang dae ho fanfiction#kang dae ho#kang daeho#kang daeho fanfiction#kang daeho x reader#Netflix#squid game season 2#dae ho x reader#dae ho squid game#dae ho#dae ho imagine#dae ho x you
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Yunho smut where the reader is shy to ask anything sexual and Dom yunho helps her by edging
Hi, my shining star! I'm sorry it took so long, the truth is that I've gotten into this fic a little longer than I expected. I don't know if it's what you were looking for but I really hope you like it as much as I loved writing it🫶🏻.
Warnings: established couple, edging, oral sex, fingering, breast playing, use of pet names, dom-sub subtle dynamic.
You have been scrolling through your Instagram page for half an hour more or less, seeing a big variety of edits, videos and pictures of your lovely, sweet boyfriend being or looking everything but lovely and sweet. It's almost insane the amount of hot, breathtaking content Yunho has in social media, even making you feel overwhelmed by how scarily handsome his public persona is. The way he moves, the way he looks at the camera, the way he poses… Every single angle of your boyfriend makes him look fine. Certainly, Yunho doesn't have a bad angle at all.
And that's why you perfectly understand why Atiny is so obsessed with him. Because you have seen a lot of messages, videos and more and more about how much random people want Yunho for themselves. As you have also seen a lot of content about how much they want to feel his hands around their necks, how much they want him to finger them, how good it would be to be at his mercy...
There's a lot of dirty content about your boyfriend on the internet, and you could be jealous of all those filthy comments about Yunho but, meanwhile they only can have those videos or pictures, you can delight yourself with the real thing.
You are the only one who has seen what happens when the sweet Yunho everyone knows takes a step back to give free rein to the kinky one. It's you who has tasted all the things he knows to do with those glorious hands that life has given him. Your pussy gets wet just thinking about those long fingers digging into your tight hole to make you moan his name at the top of your lungs as his free hand closes around your neck with utmost subtlety, applying light, pushing pressure in the right place to cloud your vision.
What a bad time to get horny when you are curled up in the corner of the sofa with him sitting next to you, playing one of his many video games.
Don't get it wrong, there's nothing bad about getting horny being by his side, it's just that you are a really shy person and asking anything sexual is out of your possibilities. You always shake like jelly, looking away from him with your cheeks and ears as red as a tomato when Yunho asks you if you feel like having sex. There's no way that you can ask him to finger you without getting nervous, you know yourself pretty well, you would end up running away in embarrassment before even calling him.
What a lucky girl you are to have such an attentive person as your boyfriend. Because yes. Yunho has noticed that something goes wrong with you. You're moving your feet nervously while you shrink more and more into place, slowly turning your phone over in an attempt to hide from him whatever you are seeing. In addition, all the furtive glances you have been giving him for a while now, blushing immediately before looking away. Yunho has a slight idea of what's wrong with you, and he's more than happy to give you the solution you're asking for with those little looks, but not without playing a bit first.
“Everything okay, princess?” He asks without taking his eyes off the screen, his voice is calm but his face tells everything. Although you can't see it because you are too embarrassed to lift your eyes from your phone now “Y-Yes” you squeeze your shirt. You know your boyfriend pretty well which makes you be sure that he will tease you until you say what he wants to hear "Are you sure?” his voice changes to that one deep and pussy-tease voice he knows you love ”Because it seems the opposite to me, princess. Come on, be a good girl and tell me what it is that makes you so restless” Like a flash, the fact that you were right makes you blush even more, turning your face to your phone, noticing that you never removed the reels, meeting with several clips of Imitation. Bad timing indeed. Like the rest of his fans, you have a thing for actor Yunho.
“O-Oh my god…” In a quick motion, you turn your phone off and let it fall at your side, hiding your face in your long sleeves, which obviously catches Yunho's attention. He knows it's not right to take your phone without your permission but the reaction was certainly striking for the idol so, out of curiosity, he pauses his game before taking your phone and turning it on, finding one of those many edits of him acting jealous. The smile that spreads across his face says it all.
“Does my princess like when I act jealous?” He says with a certain tone that makes you close your eyes tightly “N-No” but both know that you can't deny it when he has the proof in front of his eyes “Then? Why is my princess all brushed right now?” You make an embarrassed sound, hiding even further in the not secure shelter of your arms.
He shouldn't press you like that, you don't seem comfortable with the course of this conversation, if it can even be called that. But just the way you curl even more in your spot, how you squeeze your legs together or how red your ears are getting is enough for Yunho to know that you need some attention down there but you don't know how to ask for it without saying it. And, as he also knows that you will not make a move even if your cunt starts to squeeze around nothing uncomfortably hard, he decides to take the next step.
“You know?” Yunho gives small pats on your thigh, making you look up at him for a few seconds, just until he says “Something tells me that you need a panty replacement. Am I wrong, princess?” squeezing your soft thigh with a certain force. You get goosebumps as soon as he leans close to your ear to whisper that last part in a sensual way ”Because, if that's the case, I can help you. You only have to use your big-girl words” he says, looking at you with that knowing smile printed on his perfect lips, expecting from you to answer him but you can't say anything, not with all that amount of new arousal running down your folds, ruining your panties even more.
You don't even dare to look at him, how can you utter a word? But, you know Yunho, you know he won't give you what he knows you want from him unless you do it his way. It always happens. He can have you gushing in his mouth but won't move a muscle until he gets things the way he wants them to go. So, you bite your head off and whisper a faint “Please”.
“Please what, princess?”.
“Help me”.
And that's how you have ended up on the couch with your legs wide open to leave Yunho enough space to give you the attention he perfectly knows you need.
With utmost delicacy, Yunho brushes his fingertips up your stomach, making you sigh between lovely whimpers, as he likes to call them, ending up dragging his nose along the curvature of your now exposed breast “You smell so good” he inhales deeply with the sole intention of becoming intoxicated by your scent, dipping forwards and placing tender kisses along your chest, “Mm” Yunho rubs a hand up your thigh, keeping his eyes on your cute expressions “I could eat you up, princess” your stomach tightens, breath short on your lips as his soft lips brush over one of your pebbled, pink mounds before taking it into his mouth to start flicking it with his tongue nonchalantly “I… Yunho please” you breathe desperately, melting into his touch, savoring the way his tongue tortures shamelessly your poor nipple with steady flicks and sucks.
"Be… be careful, they're sensitive" but that warning only encourages him to bite down gently and tug lightly on it to elicit the mewls of painful pleasure he loves so much. Only after he hears you meowing his name between needy sobs is when Yunho disconnects his mouth from your breast, "Much better, don't you think princess?" Without giving you time to respond, he bends his head to your chest again, this time taking the other one in his mouth as he indifferently massages the breast he has just played with. His lips closing perfectly around your nipple as his tongue rolls it incessantly, sucking at will at the same time as his fingers play mischievously with your other nipple.
“Y-Yuyu” With your body burning with desire from just the stimulation on your breasts, your restless hands quickly search for a place to clutch to release even a little tension, meeting immediately with Yunho's strong arms ready to be squeezed by you. And, though at first your hands stay there still, delighting itselves in the sweet touch of his arms, they themselves decide to move upwards until one reaches its fixed place on his back and the other on his head, fisting on the fabric of his shirt and his silky soft hair.
That little tug on his scalp you give him when he bites your nipple with some force makes Yunho grunt lasciviously against your skin, burying himself even deeper as he ruffles your nipple. The stimulation is enough to make more and more arousal wet your little pussy, the feeling of pressure in your lower belly making you raise your hips in search of something to help you release it.
The moment your hips begin to move subtly to the rhythm of Yunho's fingers on your nipple, he doesn't think twice and drives his free hand down to the moist warmth between your legs, just brushing his fingertips gently across your sensitive clit over the fabric, applying just enough force to make you shiver slightly without giving you the pleasure you crave.
More and more moans of his name fall out from your mouth as he continues playing with your pink abused mounds. Meanwhile, his long, skilful fingers have already passed the barrier of cloth that separates him from your wet heat, slipping two of his digits at once into your tight pussy while his thumb immediately finds your clit. The reaction is instantaneous, the moment you feel his fingers make their way into your tiny hole your back arches, causing your head to snap back with just the first rub on your clit.
“Oh god… Yunho” Your legs automatically wrap around his body, pulling him tighter against yours in a reflex action “feels so good”. You can feel him smiling against your skin, rushing the movement of his fingers synchronously with his tongue, stimulating both breasts equally but giving more attention to your little tight cunt which does not stop squeezing his fingers.
It's non-stop, his fingers going in and out of your pussy as he pleases, making sure to hit your cervix every time he slips them back in. The softness with which he caresses your inner walls only to expertly prick your sweet spot makes you delirious, tears begin to form in your eyes as a thin trickle of drool trickles down the corner of your lips.
This is what Yunho likes the most, it's a direct ego boost for him how with just his fingers and tongue he is able to make you lose your mind like this in a matter of minutes. And even more so with what he has planned.
Thirsting for your delicious arousal as if he hasn't had a drink in a decade, Yunho separates a second time his insatiable mouth from you, wiping some of his saliva from the corner of his lips with his tongue. A sight too hot for your own good “Do you like it princess? Come on, tell me how much you like when I play with your needy cunt, when I play with your boobs. Tell me” And you want to answer but the shame of talking dirty and the climax approaching dangerously fast prevents you from raising your voice except to moan and sob “Say it, princess. Or maybe I should stop?”.
At the threat of losing all sources of pleasure now that your body had reached that state of excitement that announced a near orgasm, you shake your head quickly, moving your hips to the sound of his fingers in search of more pleasure, but Yunho stops you with his free hand “Say it”. His voice is serious, ringing in your ears in the most sensual way you could have ever expected, it could almost have brought you to cum but Yunho has had to decide to remove his fingers from your pussy just when you were almost dare. It clearly makes you cry at the loss of that delicious orgasm you were going to have. But you know that doesn't work for Yunho, in fact, it encourages him to tease you even more. So, in order to make him not let your orgasm fade, you answer him “I… I really love when… when you finger me or… or play with my boobs”.
Satisfied with the response, Yunho starts to kiss down your body, trading little licks and bites all the way down your stomach until he reaches your both clothed anymore cunt because, you don't know when, he has already got rid of your panties “Good girl” He says against your pussy, letting his hot breath make you shiver before spreading even more your legs wide and hooking them over his shoulders to lazily start sucking and nibbling on the flesh of your inner thigh, alternating it with kisses “So good for me always”.
The tension in your lower belly that was threatening seconds before to explode shortly is easing considerably and you are not amused about it. Now it's clear to you that it didn't matter what you did or said, he was going to steal the pleasure of cumming anyway.
Well, you need his tongue in your throbbing pussy to make you cum really good and you need it now so, playing a dirty trick “I’m your good girl, yes” You start to move your hips subtly, indirectly asking him to bury that perfect face he has in your pussy and abuse your insides with his tongue as only he knows how. But, instead of that, Yunho spanks your thigh a bit hard, enough for pleasure and pain to mix deliciously together. “Good girls use words to ask for what they want, princess” he says, moving to the left to give it the exact same treatment as the other.
With the stinging sensation still in your right leg and the sweet touch of his lips on your left, you know you have no choice but to give him what he wants to get what you want so, swallowing a bit hard “Please, Yuyu, eat me” He kisses your thigh one last time before spanking it as hard as he has done with the other one, looking at you directly in the eyes with that proud smile spreading his lips deliciously hot “What do my princess want me to eat first?” For that piercing gaze he is giving you, you already know that there's no other option, either you say it or he will stop everything.
“Eat my… my pussy. I need your tongue, your fingers. Whatever. But please, make me cum”.
With that proud smile that he has not erased growing, Yunho finally approaches his mouth to your needy cunt, leaving a soft kiss on your throbbing clit “Whatever my princess wants, my princess gets” Nothing but a whine leaves you when his hands, now securely on your hips, pull you down further, making it easier for him to devour you.
The very same moment he passes his tongue flat over your throbbing clit, your nails dig into his shoulder, making him hiss hard but not enough to make him stop his task. The pleasure is high enough to make you start to rock your hips uncontrollably, his nose bumping your clit perfectly to make your whole body tremble. That tension in your belly reappears quickly, even stronger. Your pussy opening and closing around his tongue shamelessly as Yunho plays roughly with your clit.
“Ah!” your head twists back, your hands clutching harder when Yunho pulls his tongue out to attend your clit now “Y-Yunho! P-Please… Please!” The feeling of his tongue flicking along your clit has you rocking your hips involuntarily “Please…” you pant, your body vibrating with pleasure and so close to snapping “I-I'm your good girl… m-make me cum”.
You feel Yunho press a close lipped kiss to the top of your swollen clit, making you gasp, looking down between your legs to find your smiling boyfriend looking up at you with an easy sated gaze, his chin wet and his hair an absolute haystack, blushing across his cheeks.
“S-So hot” you exhale, almost to yourself, but Yunho chuckle tells you that it has not been only for your ears “Does my princess like what she sees?” he rubs your little hole with the tip of his finger, making you jolt “Y-Yunho!” your hips roll, searching for more of his touch “P-Please, come on, please Yunho”.
“I can hear you saying my name like this all day” Yunho sings and kisses your clit again, focusing now on how good his fingers look when he sinks them into your hole one more time, pressing deep until his knuckles are flush with your opening “Yuyu” You cry his name in a moan just as he likes while he starts to pump his fingers again, picking up the pace “Come in, princess, say it again” He croons, moving them quicker when you clench around them “Y-Yunho, Y-Yu-Yu…”.
“That’s it, princess, that's my really good girl. Now, cum for me” He delivers a quick slap on your sensitive clit, making the tension that has been threatening to burst all night finally explode what makes you choke between hard cries of his name. He's quick to put his mouth back on your pussy just in time so that you cum in his mouth, pushing his fingers even deeper while his tongue flicks one last time around your clit before separating once and for all and letting you recover from your orgasm.
“Everything okay, princess?” You can't respond, your breathing is too fast, your heart is racing and your body doesn't respond. Just like Yunho wanted to have you before the next round because, guess what, there is no such thing as rest in his plans.
#ateez#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez smut#ateez x reader#jeong yunho#yunho x reader#ateez yunho#yunho smut#yunho#star asks
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♡ Pack It Up - CL 16 ♡
Summary: You're so irrevocably in love with Charles Leclerc and enjoying life when all of a sudden, you hear this agitating noise (your ex who is an actor and probably mentally deranged or SOMETHING).
Author's Note: Hi my lovlies! This is my first attempt at an SMAU so PLEASE BE NICE 😭 this is based off this request! also this can be seen as a pt. 2 to good luck charlie, but can also be read as a stand alone 😋 also the part 2 link is here and at the bottom cause fuck ass tumblr can suck my dick
CW: SMAU, uhhhh, fluff? angst? girl idk 😭use of the word hoe/whore in portuguese
y/n_l/n
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f9214dc9c1d5461c47821f6e49011b3b/b78b6454122e9f3d-0a/s540x810/50b06f44373ee0f6ed3835f41f3d0541a7b8538d.jpg)
Liked by charlesleclerc, yourbestie, 745,372 others
y/n_l/n in your eyes, i get lost, i get washed away
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charlesleclerc mon amoureuse, the most beautiful person in the world and the one i get to belong to ❤️
User67 ohhh our girl is so in love 🤭
User32 does this mean the next album will solely be a love album? 👀
jade_distinguinn ✨🌘
alex_albon i just know the next album is gonna eat!
↳ lilymhe who tf taught you that?!
↳ alex_albon you?!
↳ lilymhe mhm 🤨 im watching you, Alexander Albon Ansusinha
↳ User22 yall… its been 3 hrs since albon was last seen, do you think lily got him?
↳ lilymhe 🤫
↳ User22 😨
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charles_leclerc
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/703e2a7e23a66ed423bcff96b7a024e5/b78b6454122e9f3d-3d/s540x810/8594b7e61518db5ab287eb87fd34ad5df7af5ae3.jpg)
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charles_leclerc i wanna teach you how forever feels, ma déesse
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y/n_l/n je t’aime tellement, mon amour. I can’t believe that this incredible man is all mine 🥰
User89 wait he’s using her song lyrics about him 😭😭😭😭
User56 yall ever think about how on y/n’s posts, the first pic is of charles but charles never puts her in the first pic?
↳ User44 it’s not that serious dude
↳ User79 hmmm i never thought of that, it is a bit weird, like he doesn’t want people to see her that much?
↳ User10 yall are crazy, this post has 4 pictures and 3 of them have y/n in it
↳ User05 tom never hid her tho 🙃 just saying
User23 ugh they’re literally couple GOALS 😍
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tomblyth
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2c27865eb20ec7e7925e846b8850aa8c/b78b6454122e9f3d-47/s540x810/fce7e9b0eaf9038900f125dcd035b0b1cc94a954.jpg)
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tomblythe some photos from christmas break, ready to come back to work happy and healthy 👍
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User51 ugh, could he be any hotter 😫
User33 ehm, who dat?
User00 cringing at the 2nd pic
↳ User99 okay and? U didn’t have to voice it
↳ User12 but yet i did
User0 is that rachel?
↳ User9 NO IT’S Y/N
↳ User34 yall need to let that go, they broke up so long ago
↳ User9 no im being so fr, y/n posted that exact picture when they were together
↳ User56 omg?! You might be right, i recognize that pic
↳ User12 YALL ITS LEGIT HER, ITS MY PFP AND I GRABBED IT WHEN IT WAS FIRST POSTED WHEN THEY WERE TOGETHER OMFG
↳ User66 wait, so what does this mean? I thought y/n was dating that one french guy
↳ User45 that guy is not french, hes monegasque ☝️ and yes they are dating
↳ User3 maybe they broke up?
↳ User72 no way, they just posted pics of each other, my money is tom is playing dirty to get her back
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y/n_l/n posted a story
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y/n_l/n posted a story
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tomblyth posted a story
Replies:
User99 oh sir…
User34 it was clearly an accident, you don’t have to apologize
User76 so are u guys not getting back together? 😔
User89 but why did u have it? It’s been years
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/507fc658cfacc6ab8766746bf65a44ae/b78b6454122e9f3d-d0/s540x810/9b817ab627864e1957a9d88efc9fd0ba942a6dcd.jpg)
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tomblyth posted a story
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User32 OMG ARE YOU AND Y/N BACK TOGETHER?! PLS STOP WITH THE GAMES AND TELL US
User45 bruh this is so fucking weird, using your ex’s song to soft launch your new girl?
User96 ooooh this tea is piping HOT
User62 Oh hell no 😭
User05 so you’re not single anymore? 🥺
francisca.cgomes VAI P’A PUTA QUE TU PARIU
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f1gossippofficial
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F1gossippofficial seems like y/n l/n’s ex, Tom Blythe, wants her back? Tom has not only posted an old picture of y/n but has also used her song, which she wrote about him, to soft launch a new girl… or should i say someone he’s knows ‘all too well’
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User96 I can’t be the only one who thinks this is crazy, right?
↳ User55 Def not, idk what’s going on but holy fuck they either need to stay together or get over eachother
↳ User87 i think y/n has been over Tom for quite some time now. She seems happy with charles
↳ User34 but is she really? Tom was the one to end things so she might’ve “moved on” but is wasting time with charles
↳ User66 no way, those two are so in love and you can see it in the way they look at eachother and talk about eachother. I mean just listen the song she just put out ‘ease my mind’
↳ User29 if you’re gonna bring that up, then let's also bring up ‘we can’t be friends’ i mean it’s all about how she’s waiting for Tom “wait until you love me again”
User10 Tom needs to leave Y/n ALONE
↳ User98 AGREED
Use09 she’s probably just another bitch using charles for fame and money, she should just leave him already cause he deserves so much better
↳ User77 not to mention she’s not as pretty as his exes 🤭
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tomblyth
Liked by rachelzegler, bensonboone, 90,342 others
tomblythe the smell of you hair reminds me of her feet
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User40 wtf is that caption
↳ User55 OH GIRL LEMME TELL YOU. so this song is called ‘be my mistake’ and it’s essentially this guy telling the girl he’s fucking with that she will never be the girl he loves. Like “you’re great but shes amazing and beautiful” type of stuff
↳ User40 nah that’s sickening 😭
User76 i lowkey feel bad for his new girl, he’s obvs using her to get y/n back
↳ User56 yall not everything is about y/n
↳ User78 but it clearly is?! All the evidence points to it being about y/n and getting her back
User66 omg couples goals 😍
User90 that girl is so lucky to have tom like UGH i wish
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f1gossippofficial
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F1gossippofficial Breaking: Charles Leclerc was recently spotted attending a brand event… without y/n? Rumor has it the two have separated 😱
Thoughts? 👀
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User49 OMG DID HE FINALLY DUMP THAT GOLD DIGGING BITCH 🤩
User12 nooo, mi parents 🙁
User56 honestly about time
↳ User44 wdym about time?
↳ User56 i feel like it’s been obvious that they’ve been unhappy together for a while. Tom is also a better match for y/n
↳ User44 uhm, they literally posted pics of eachother not long ago in a loving photo dump? Also tom was a manipulative person towards y/n and he drained the fuck out of her and made her miserable
↳ User56 instagram posts dont mean shit in the real world. And all this stuff against tom is alleged
User32 now’s my chance 😍
User66 orrrr maybe they dont have to be together 24/7?
↳ User94 they always go to events together tho…
↳ User21 well y/n also has a job so maybe she was busy
↳ User50 idk man, doesn't look good for charles atm
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y/n_l/n
Liked by francisca.cgomes, oliviarodrigo, and 784,483 others
y/n_l/n working on things 👍
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User77 NOW LOOK WHAT YALL DID! YOU TOOK HER SPARKLE
oliviarodrigo omg so excited bestie 🤭
User93 omg new music? 👀
↳ User33 breakup music? ☹️
↳ User10 do NOT put that into the universe ☝️
User65 yall i dont wanna be a bummer but… charles isnt in the likes…
↳ User80 why is this a big deal?! Maybe he’s busy
↳ User34 charles is ALWAYS the first to like her posts, he’s never missed a post or been late
↳ User78 omg did they actually breakup?!
User89 FUCK YOU TOM BLYTH! YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID
francisca.cgomes my beautiful girl, love you so much ❤️
↳ y/n_l/n love you too 🩷
↳ User42 YALL SHE ISN’T USING THE RED HEART, ITS OVER 😭😫
Part 2
#f1 smau#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 au#f1 x reader#charles leclerc smau#cl16 smau#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x yn#cl16 fanfic#formula 1 smau#formula 1 x reader#charles leclerc au#f1 fanfic#charles leclerc fic#cl16 imagine#cl16 x reader
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The Wigmaker Job
Notes and Thoughts - Part 3
pt1 | pt2 | pt3 | pt4 | pt5
DISCLAIMER: These posts I'm doing are my own analyses and are done with the intentional eye to examine the relationship between Lucanis and Illario. I try to source all my assertions from what the text is giving me. This is not Lucanis critical nor should it be taken as such.
Going to be a shorter post today because I have things to do this morning!
Starting off strong in the next scene with me… loving on the fashion notes <3 So glad to know that we get stiletto heels clicking against cobblestone. Surely hoping that no magister twists their ankle and falls and breaks their fucking neck because their shoe got caught in a gap!
Also, velveteen is in? Someone who knows fabrics weigh in and tell me if that would be an appropriate material for the climate.
"So the Wigmaker. Tell me about him." / "He's weird." ← Lucanis goes on to say that he 'finds the moment before a job crucial for focus, but Illario was never one for comfortable silence'. To me, that beggars the explanation that the following passage is Illario goading him a bit.
I: "Specifics, cousin. No one hires us to kill normal people." L: "I gave you a dossier." I: "Yes, but I want your assessment." L: "I wrote it. It is my assessment." I: "Humor me." L: "You'll see soon enough."
There was a little bit of debate in my previous post about whether or not Illario actually read Lucanis's dossier. I don't think that the text supports that interpretation, but everyone is allowed to interpret what they want.
I'll argue that Illario has read the dossier: throughout the story up until this point, Illario has made comments about the job that implies he has SOME understanding of what they are doing—even going out of his way to make arrangements with a tailor so that he can be prepared for the part of the contract that Lucanis asked him to help with.
He knows that they need to be in Minrathous, at a party, facing a 'premiere wigmaker', and aware of the fact that they're up against Venatori. He knew they needed to be at a mansion and all of this comes up previous to this point when asking about Lucanis's assessment.
Additionally, asking for more clarification on something that someone else wrote is actually normal when the plan has clearly changed several times. Illario has increasingly expressed confusion on how the navigation is being handled, and, when asking for more information, is specifically asking after the Wigmaker himself, not the entire plan.
Also, the narrator is telling us that Lucanis prefers to be quiet while Illario likes to talk. It was pointed out to the me that this is close third POV, so why would the narrator bring that difference up, and not reference the idea that Illario has a tendency to not read documents?
(A few paragraphs later, while balancing on the rooftops, it's stated that 'At least Illario was too busy concentrating to ask questions'.) ← I wonder why he'd need to ask so many… I'm not trying to be snarky, but I am trying to make a point and using the text to support it. This also is NOT Lucanis crit and I'm worried some people are interpreting it as such.
The commentary from Lucanis about the previous Minrathous parties is insane btw. Retching vases? Acrobats? An orgy? No wonder they kept us in Dock Town in VG… (shakes fist)
First mention of Lucanis's sensitivity toward the Veil. "The backs of his eyeballs itched like he hadn't blinked in days". I think he says this primarily about blood magic at some point in VG? Which tracks and keeps up with WMJ.
"Something's wrong." / "Yeah. We're up here, away from the fun." ← insane of illario to say this i'm sorry. bro there are blood mages down there.
L: "Focus." I: "I am." L: "On the job." I: "To be fair, you never told me the plan."
You guys get it at this point. (That last sentence loops back up to my previous point… Illario has read the dossier. He knows the contract. He does NOT know how Lucanis is going to HANDLE it beyond what he's been asked to do re: getting Lucanis inside).
Lucanis shrugged. "Find Ambrose. Slit his throat." "Sounds complicated." "It will be. The Veil's thin here. Thinner than I expected."
Illario seems pretty fine with this explanation so I am not going to keep dragging it out. I do like how in-tune Lucanis seems to be with his abilities! I wish we could've seen more of that in VG; iirc he doesn't comment on the state of the Veil or magic very often?
This is the part of the story where we get to see their back-and-forth and how Illario is a bit of a rake! Which I personally enjoy. I love a manwhore (*said affectionately). Sorry.
"Plenty of time for some good, old-fashioned debauch—" I think he's funny. And maybe a bit distracted.
The narrator describes Ambrose as 'of average height and build' which is a description that pisses me off when fanfic does it and published works are not immune to my ire. What the hell is 'average'. That's so subjective.
The rest of the description is nice, though: hawkish gold eyes and a jaw that could break teeth. ← I know I said this was a breakdown of the brothercousin dynamic but I need to weigh in on other things sometimes. <3 Heart.
"They're never what you envision, are they?" Illario noted. "What did you expect?" "Hair, for one. Maybe a funny little dog." That got a chuckle out of Lucanis, if only briefly.
Stop being funny!!! I do like this banter back and forth because this feels like it's the least… leaden with underlying, complicated dynamics? I like it a lot and it feels natural for them.
Making notes on the fashion of the guard-captain. 'She wore an emerald gown with a high-waisted, low-tiered skirt and a fitted tulle bodice studded with champagne-colored crystals. Metallic body paint shimmered on her exposed arms and legs'. ← Fascinating.
It sounds like it might be a reference to the women's fashion from the Tevinter concept art. Bit gaudy.
Also it's described as silk-brocade. AGAIN PEOPLE WHO KNOW FABRICS WEIGH IN.
[shrek meme] she's not even wearing velveteen.
Lucanis "I need those keys" Dellamorte and Illario "your wish is my command, cousin" Dellamorte you will always be famous to me. Also it says that Illario 'flipped forward' which . why are we doing all that
Quotes are either paraphrased or taken directly from The Wigmaker Job, written by Courtney Woods.
#dragon age#dragon age analysis#dragon age meta#tevinter nights#the wigmaker job#my analysis#long post#illario dellamorte#lucanis dellamorte#house dellamorte (meta)
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timebomb
am i the only one who doesn't like timebomb? i mean theres nothing wrong with liking the ship i obviously wouldn't judge others for having a different opinion than me, but lots of things about the ship just doesn’t sit right with me personally.
like for example ekko was in the au for only two days (he showed up two days before his au self was supposed to show off his project and left the night before which means he was only there for two days) yet in those two days he managed to fall in love with someone who tried to kill him and has killed many of his friends multiple times? i get that he had an obvious cute little crush on her when they were kids (if you pay attention it was pretty obvious and also kinda cute) but that wasn't long lived because she literally switched sides after that and for the next 8 years they weren't in contact (not much contact other than her trying to kill him or/and his friends anyways) like idk about anyone else but i personally wouldn’t fall in love with the person who killed many of my loved ones let alone falling in love with that person within two days that’s just impossible. i understand that he probably still had some lingering feelings for his universe's jinx and that’s why it was so easy for him to fall in love with au powder in just two days but in my opinion it's still too rushed and unrealistic. i couldn’t even begin to imagine myself falling in love with someone who simply talked bad about me behind my back let alone someone who’s killed my loved ones and has tried to kill me too.
i like the IDEA of them like two former childhood friends turned into enemies who are lovers in a different universe and only one of them obtains the knowledge of the fact that they’re lovers in a different life, and so the only one who knows is left yearning for that kind of connection in their current universe as well??? Like that’s such a good trope. normally i’d eat it up, but the way it was portrayed messed it up for me personally, so now i’m left only liking the idea of the ship but not actually fully liking the ship itself, and i don’t think i ever will tbh.
now this is just my personal opinion i didn’t make this post as an opening for people to argue with me or try to change my mind in the comments nor did i make this post to bash anyone who likes the ship since its an overall nice trope and they’re conanly together so i dont see why i’d bash anyone who likes this ship i simply made this post to see if anyone else agrees and to just share my opinion and simply yap on MY blog cause i can do that since its MYYYY blog (say this for the sensitive people who will try to attack me)
#jinx#arcane#jinx arcane#arcane season 2#jinx x reader#jinx league of legends#ekko arcane#ekko#ekko league of legends#ekko x reader#ekkojinx#timebomb#arcane powder#arcane x reader#arcane headcanon#arcanes2#arcane s2#timebomb arcane#ekko and jinx#ekko and powder#arcane au
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FAKE DATING EP.01 𝄒 ⸝. P. SH ? — #great news!
ᆢ ۢ pairing: idol!sunghoon x idol!insecure!f.reader
ᆢ ۢ notes: hello my dear braincells! sorry for slow updating, think of it as an introduction! bai bai~
ᆢ ۢ — masterlist
you were in the company's boardroom, you were called in alone -which was weird because you were in a group-. a few Hybe executives, a few YG executives, are sitting in front of you, telling you to take on the hate by saying that you are dating one of the most handsome and popular idols of this generation.
your stomach churned with tension as you thought about the insane level of possessiveness fans had over male idols. you knew they would criticize your face, your posture, your voice, your dancing, everything.
you loved music. your band loved music too. you had become a popular band that had held on well thanks to your shared passion for music. you were the one who wrote and composed your own band's songs, you even had credit on the choreography. you knew you were famous for your talent, not your face.
and yes, this part might have been one of the points where you felt insecure. of course you had fans who would give you millions of comments about how beautiful you were, but when k-pop fans liked an idol they would praise them no matter what. even though your group members, many celebrities, and random people you met told you that you were pretty... you couldn't help but be insecure about it. this was mainly because photos of you from when you were a teenager, way before your debut, were leaked a few years ago and netizens made fun of your face. you were dealing with acne like most teenagers, you had uneven facial features, and netizens didn't care that that had changed now.
you knew that the moment your name was mentioned in the same sentence as one of their beloved idols, you would be taken back to the time before you were lynched. your breath trembled. "why me?" they brushed you off with an answer that was clearly prepared in advance. "you and Sunghoon were picked on before because you looked good together. It will help both of your popularity."
bullshit. tou knew it was bullshit. they were going to throw you in to cover up a scandal about the companies.
and what did they say? Sunghoon? Park Sunghoon from Enhypen?
great, you're going to say that you're dating an idol who's been voted fans' favorite for the past three months. you didn't even know him!
you leaned forward slightly, running your hands through your hair and taking deep breaths to calm yourself down. "you do realize this will ruin me, right? any female idol whose name is mentioned with any male idol is instantly lynched."
this time the answer came from your company. "relax y/n, the fans will love you side by side. lynching will definitely come but not as much as you can handle."
ah, you knew it would definitely will be much as you can't handle.
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a few days passed quickly, the members of both groups briefed, and finally the day had come for you to meet Sunghoon and set up your story with the staff.
you entered the meeting room, muttering every curse word you knew. you sat down at the chair and started looking at your phone without taking off your mask and hat.
when Sunghoon walked in a few minutes later, you turned your head towards him. you stood up from your seat and bowed, then extended your hand. "y/n from Lavish, it's great to meet you." Sunghoon also took your hand and introduced himself before taking his seat.
he didn't really need an introduction, all you had been doing for the past few days was researching him so you knew everything about him.
"since you're both here, we can adjust your story and make the official announcement."
and they did. your story had been completed with the opinions and approval of everyone except you and Sunghoon, and now they were getting ready to make a press release.
it was a simple and cliché story, actually: Sunghoon had been attracted to you since you were trainee, and you met at an awards ceremony. the cherry on top for the staff was that, quite coincidentally, at an awards ceremony a few years ago, you both left the camera using the restroom at the same time. watching how they came up with it and adapted it into a story had gotten on your nerves because until the past few days, all you knew about Park Sunghoon was his reputation and talents.
but that wasn't the only surprise, they wanted to say that you liked him first when they made the story in the first place. but to your suprise, Sunghoon quickly objected. forcing the team to switch roles so as not to further intensify the lynching that they already knew would be quite intense. you saw even the CEO was momentarily taken aback by the clarity of his attitude.
but anyway, the story was finally complete! now the companies wanted you and Sunghoon to go on a date in a public area as if you were hiding and get caught by the reporters they sent.
every word you heard made you so angry that the blood in your veins rushed to your brain. why did you even get involved in this?
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taglist (lemme know if you wanna be added)
@miuwonis @tasnemluvs @littlofang @enhamonsterghoul @shhh1233728 @elegancefr @pasteltheghost16 @tsukikourito @missunicorn @ily4jknity @enhaz1 @riribelle
#enhypen sunghoon#sunghoon x reader#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen scenarios#enhypen smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen ff#enhypen fluff#sunghoon#sunghoon smut#sunghoon smau#sunghoon fanfic#sunghoon x y/n#sunghoon fic#sunghoon fluff#enhypen#sunghoon x you#sunghoon au#sunghoon fake texts
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I’ve had some time to process and dissect it, and I just want to say Kendrick’s halftime show was a masterpiece and a wonderful piece of political art.
Having a Black man play “Uncle Sam” making the Black community feel wanted and represented within their country and community but then having said “Uncle Sam” tell those same people finding comfort in him to be good, quiet, not “ghetto.” It poked at those POC that want to conform to the White man’s wants and society, the pause before Samuel L. says “Sam.” After Uncle, pointing at himself had me and my father believing for a moment he was going to say “Tom.” Which if you’re Black or biracial (hi! That’s me!) or even just well-versed on these things you will know exactly what an Uncle Tom is in regards to the Black community. It’s just what I described and just what the character was through the show. But he is presented as more outwardly patriotic than Kendrick and the others, which again, it is a caricature of what America wants Black people to be, quiet, making no fuss, complaining when someone of their community does, to get that White validation. It was genius.
The song choice, the theme of America being a game, with “wrong way.” After the first statement of “the revolution will be televised” and “game over” after Kendrick started to play louder, more fast-paced music, insinuating that when POC fight back, they are ultimately successful, but it can’t be calm or peaceful, America is not perfect and doesn’t listen until they have to. Also, singing a song about a pedophile in front of a pedophilic president is just absolute gold.
I’ve seen a lot of “it’s not that deep, it’s just a halftime show.” And it drives me crazy because it’s all from white men who have no idea about any of the symbolism in the show. Many Black and biracial people grew up with grandparents or parents that grew up in segregation, heard the stories and the warnings, but also the outcome of the movements. So no Simon….it wasn’t just a halftime show!! The “sometimes the curtains are just blue.” Will continue to spout that even if the backside of the curtains is bright red, they never investigate enough to see that. Sure, not everything has a super deep meaning, but that show certainly did. If you didn’t see it, you’re either lying to yourself or have so little media literacy that you won’t even be able to read this.
Not to mention the diversity and celebration of Black culture during opening ceremonies, amazing, beautiful, 10/10.
(Also watching Travis Kelce snd Patrick Mahomes lose after their Trump comments was just the cherry on top.)
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Hello everyone, This was suggested by @miraclekay97. Thank you!
If you want to leave a suggestion, you can go to this post and leave a comment there.
On my Ko-fi I currently have two free readings on there if you would like to check them out.
Pile One:
Pile one for your future spouse. I think they are in a pretty good place, actually. I think they don't have too many worries, and I think money-wise they have a pretty good, stable income, and I think they're pretty grounded. I think they also have some hobbies that keep them grounded. I also see them just having fun and spending time with friends and dating around. I don’t see anything too crazy going on. Overall, I would say your future spouse is doing really well.
Extra: 4, 16, 19, 20, 26, 444, Sagittarius, Gemini, Virgo, Money, Love, Songs, coffee shop, tea cups, cozy, warm, Golden, stability, stable, safe keeping, pastries, Europe, French, black hair, long hair, bold hair colors, manifestation, visualization, meeting, winning in life.
Pile Two:
Hello, pile 2. I see that your future spouse may currently be in a little bit of a rut. And something is causing them a little bit of distress, but I think they're going to get out of it pretty soon. I don't see this as being like a huge, big, scary thing. This is the type of problem that they'll laugh at in a year. I see money-wise they're doing pretty good, just like pile 1. They're very stable with money, and I think right now they're just focusing on their creative pursuits. Some of them might be into music or in that realm, but I think they are just focusing on their own hobbies, and they're doing pretty good. They just have a lot of creativity flowing through them right now, and they're doing pretty good.
Extra: 17, 19, 41, 49, 888, Canadian, songs, tall, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Pisces, water signs, fire signs, earth, swan, archery, friend, divine masculine, June, soulmate, pale skin, straight hair, solo time, writing, lucky, Apollo.
Pile Three:
Pile three I think your future spouse's life is maybe a little bit hectic at the moment. I think they may be going to school or something, maybe deciding what they want to do or just taking up a class. I see something about karmic, like some karmic debt. I don't see them struggling too much, but I do see them learning lessons, and I think those lessons are going to make them stumble a little bit, but they'll be able to get back up soon, and I think these life lessons are really important for them to learn so they will be able to grow. I think these lessons will really shape them into a better person, because I see there's a little bit of ego death too.
Extra: 17, 23, 35, 36, 666, J, B, Scorpio, Libra, life lessons, black hair, Arcane, Karmic, Money, decisions, Feb, Ego, yellow, colorful, Brazilian, Hawaii, out of state, classes, learning, studying, focus.
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Thank you for the support, and I hope you enjoyed the reading.
#daily tarot#free tarot#pick a card#pick a pile#pick a picture#tarot pac#tarot pick a card#tarot reading#tarot#love reading#future spouse#tarotblr#tarot reader#tarotcommunity#tarot blog
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Hello, I was hoping you take requests. If you do, can I please request one with Nightwing where the reader is his best friend and she gets kidnapped by the Joker and is badly hurt and how he deals with it? Thank you very much!
I Told You So
Summary: Dick remembers the risks of befriending civilians when you disappear one day.
Word Count: 2.7K
Notes: Dear anon, I hope that you still hang around my blog, and I'm so sorry this took so long to get to you after angstober. I had so many other ways to take the themes, but I opted for a more subtle approach. I hope it is close to what you were looking for. 💙
I'm working through my requests! I love getting these in my inbox so for everyone that has sent one, please know that I LOVE seeing these prompts and I plan to do all of them. Warnings for graphic descriptions of injuries and violence and a slightly shaky fic. Getting back into the swing of things! (Also want to say I went back through my blog and re-read every comment and reblog tags that people have left and I love that people love my work so much.)
Reblogging will summon Nightwing to be your Valentines this year! 💙💙💙
Love RiRi <3
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Dick had told himself not to be friends with civilians way back when he had started being a vigilante. It had been a quiet sentence that he had uttered to himself in the depths of his mind, and one that was overshadowed by his personality at every moment from then. It was almost like a defunct rule that just sat there for the sake of playing on his conscious.
By nature, he was too outgoing, too eager to involve himself in the community and connect with the people that he fought for. He wanted to help the kids at the orphanage when he made trips with Bruce, he wanted to talk to those gathered around food trucks getting cheap meals because their apartments had been destroyed in last week’s bad clash with Scarecrow. He wanted that connection, which let him keep Dick Grayson away from the suit. The suit that called to him like a siren. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up just like Bruce, a shattered reflection unable to distinguish who was looking back at him at the end of the day. Another martyr who had sacrificed his soul and let the kevlar devour him wholly.
So, when he hung out with you, he was Dick. You reminded him that he was Dick Grayson, and the pressure that sat in his chest always eased. You had met when he took Haley in for her shots, a dimly lit vet clinic with underpaid staff and underfunded equipment.
"Sorry about that." you chuckle, head dipping down to nod at your own dog, who was pulling at the lead to get to Haley. Dick waved it off, laughing as he relaxed the lead in his hand. Haley ran circles around your golden labrador, tail wagging in excitement. Your hands brushed and fumbled with each other as you tried to awkwardly untangle the leads, pulling your dog’s apart when you could.
"Don't worry, Haley gets excited too." he smiles, crouching down to pet your own pup. He stares at Dick with black glossy eyes, tail waving back and forth as he tries to lick Dick's face, making him laugh. "What's the name?"
"Darty." you smile back, your companion turning his head back to look at you as he hears his name. "He's a good boy." you coo, rubbing his head. Dick scratches behind his ears before Haley gets jealous, nipping at the sleeves of his navy jacket with a whine.
"Ah, ah, gentle. I love you too." he laughs, a hand on each dog to keep them happy.
From then on you two had bonded over walks int he dog park and afternoon coffee while your canine friends played tug of war in front of your bench. It was hard to find people he considered friends, much less his best one. He was best friends with Wally still, and he was the person Dick went to when he was having troubles in his vigilante life. When he couldn’t take the stress of watching Bruce have another episode, something that was beginning to frequent more and more. He went to Wally when he needed favours called in, and he was stuck in bed with bruising so bad he looked like he’d picked a fight with a semi-truck (although Bane really felt like that at times). But with you, he could talk about things that annoyed him. He could complain about little things, like how the coffee shop on the corner near his apartment didn't taste the same now that they changed management, or the fact that the rain had brought even more potholes to the Gotham streets, making driving a nightmare. Sometimes Dick fell so deep into those conversations with you, wrapped up in the way that you laughed or nodded along, that some days he thought he himself was an ordinary civilian.
But there were times like these that the little sentence came back from the corner of his mind that he pushed it into.
Where it came taunting him in that sing song voice, saying 'I told you so'.
Where he was reminded why he had tried to make the rule against befriending citizens.
He had noticed when you didn't make the puppy play date on Thursday like usual, Haley sitting sadly like her owner as they both waited for their friends. He had sent a quick text, 'Are you ok??' but wrote it off that there was just a good chance that you were sick, considering the flu that had swept your workplace the week before.
So, the civilian in Dick gave it the benefit of the doubt.
The next day you still hadn't responded, despite Dick knowing that you didn't work the Fridays. He rolled over, checking his phone with blurry eyes to see no new messages on his notification centre. He had had a rough patrol the night before and his muscles ached from misjudging a rooftop and landing harshly, so he let himself sleep in. You would surely respond later when you had time, and if you really were sick then he knew you wouldn't be awake till past noon.
So, the civilian in Dick rolled back over and caught up on sleep from the night shift.
However, when Saturday hit, he got the notice from Bruce that he was needed. Dick had spent the day in increased worry, knocking at your door around lunchtime only to receive no answer. The road was bumpy as he drove the bike back to the manor, wheels hitting potholes too wide to avoid properly. His frown deepened when he finally made it back to the manor, spotting Jason's bike out the front too. He dismounted, shaking the light rain from his hair. The dusk was being quickly swallowed by Gotham's signature rain clouds, so he shoved his hands in his pockets and hurried inside, greeting Alfred on his way down to the cave.
The sentence popped up in the forefront of his mind as he took sight of everyone in the cave.
Bruce turned from the Bat computer, already in suit and cowl. Stephanie sat to his left; hip propped up against a table. Tim was suited up, still focused on the strings of numbers and texts flashing across the bat computer screen.
"Glad to see you could make it." Jason says gruffly, brushing past him. He was still in his riding gear, hair tousled from the helmet. Dick nods back, a flash of understanding passing through the two brothers.
"What's the situation?" he asks, coming to stand behind Tim's chair, next to Bruce.
"Mass kidnapping." Bruce says, eyes hard and trained on the computer screen.
"Culprit?"
"Joker." Jason fills in, voice distant as he changes on the other side of the room.
"It's pretty bad. Batman and I were investigating a disappearance, but it turns out there was a whole string prior. and now…" he says, tapping the space bar and the screen fills with faces.
"Now we've got twenty gone." Steph fills in, glancing sadly at the screen. "He's been playing a game, and we're losing."
Red crosses begin to flicker across some of the portraits floating in front of him, making him cringe. There were students, professors, and blue-collar workers. Some who seemed to work in an office, some who clearly worked outside. He scanned each face with an X, feeling the pain behind the implications. That's when he froze, and that's when that sentence came back stronger than ever.
I told you so.
He felt a slight tremor in his hand before he clenched it into a fist. His mouth was dry, guilt coursing through him. Maybe it was a rage, maybe it was a sadness. Dick honestly didn’t know how to untangle his emotions in this moment. He just knew that one of those faces up there was you, thankfully free from an X but there, nonetheless.
And the vigilante in Dick died a little inside.
"It’s not his MO." he says tensely. "Doesn't he want the attention of the Batman? It's not like him to do things in the background without announcing himself." he has to croak out, making Tim give him a curious side glance. His younger brother was always smarter than anyone ever gave him credit for.
"I think he's learnt how to self-entertain." Jason hums, appearing at his side with a sour expression. "He's gearing up for something big. Something to lord over the Bat."
"And we aren't going to let that happen." Bruce spoke up, voice stern. "Everyone here is to locate missing civilians while Red Robin and I track down Joker. We need to clear the field of potential casualties. Understood?"
Everyone nodded, but no one understood as painfully as Dick.
When the group broke up to get started, he called you again. It hurt twice as much knowing that the reason you weren't picking up is because that sick bastard had you somewhere. Because he had gotten too comfortable as a civilian that he failed you as a vigilante. If he hadn't given the benefit of the doubt, maybe you'd be here and safe. Maybe if he hadn't rolled over and gone back to sleep, he could have used that time trying to find you instead. If he had done his job, then none of this would have happened.
And maybe that would have been worth being consumed by the suit.
When he does find your signal, his heart nearly leaps from his chest. Everyone else had already entered the field, scouring buildings and known hideouts to just find anyone from the GPD missing persons list. Not Dick. Dick needed to get you back specifically. If there was any benefit to having a vigilante as a best friend, is that he would tear the city apart trying to find you. The downsides being that because of him you were lost in the first place. He sent the location to his phone and races from the manor, adrenaline making his head spin. He takes a car, not trusting himself to slow down on the corners enough to take the bike.
The GPS takes him to a building by the docks, normally active during the day but abandoned in the night. He parks a half block away as to not draw attention and slings his escrima sticks on his back, tugging them once to make sure that they were secure. He scales the shipping containers nearby and slinks out of sight of the security cameras, each muscle in his body primed to flex and twist on command. He balances on a high beam inside the main warehouse, pulling up his wrist where the red flashing dot of your phone blinked at him. He would probably have to buy you a new phone, considering the backdoor program he ran through your signal to track it made it virtually unusable.
He scanned the area, hairs on the back of his neck tingling at the lack of goons or suspiciously scarred individuals. With light feet he padded across the roofs of rusted shipping containers, feet as swift as his parents had taught and in the shadows like he had been trained. When he stood atop the rusted blue container in the left wing of the warehouse, his blue dot overlapped with the red.
He spun down, still glancing over his shoulder in case he was walking into a trap. The lock was newly purchased, indicating that you were indeed here. It popped open easily enough with the lock picks in his sleeve, the make and model a standard in many hardware stores. This could be easy, he could grab you, get you out of here and back into the apartment on the corner of fifth where you belonged-
it was you.
That's what he had to tell himself when the container door creaked open, and his flashlight sent a beam into the dark pit. He had seen bodies in the past, dead or dismembered or otherwise. Yet that didn't compare to the way that his stomach turned to stone in his abdomen just seeing you unconscious. HisHIHis feet thudded loudly as he raced towards you, gloved hands sliding down your bound arms to press against your wrist, his breathing as shallow as your pulse. He takes a deep breath and calms himself, cutting you from the chair you were tied to so he could cradle you in his arms and get a better look.
"I've got one at the docks, Wareson's shipping containers in Lower Gotham. They’re unconscious but alive." He speaks into his wrist, marking his channel as 'open' once more. It crackled to life soon after, Bruce's voice filtered through his earpiece.
"We've got a trace on a few others. Check for a calling card, Spoiler and Red Hood have found other hostages with codes attached, we might be able to get ahead of this." spoke the Bat, and Dick lowered you down gently to take a look.
His hands ghosted across your skin gently, so he didn't disturb any injuries, flashlight gripped in his teeth as he skimmed your clothes. Pulling a small square of cardboard from your blouse, he flipped the playing card over to reveal a bloodied joker and a string of numbers printed underneath.
"Sending an image now." He relayed, using his watch to take a photo and send it back to the cave. He shut his comm line off after that, his head reeling too much to focus in on the chatter from the rest of the team.
An injury to the right side of your head, against your temple. blunt force, left a cut on your hairline.
Your hair was normally a shade lighter than what it was right now.
Bruising around the throat, dark smears and indents in your skin. Evidence of friction marks.
Your necklaces never hurt you that way.
As he looked at you, your breath shallow, he felt that stone in his stomach grow hot. The way your eyelids were sealed shut with red crust, hair plastered to your head with the viscous liquid. Swelling around the lips that curved at him to smile or tell a joke. An arm that was folded the wrong way, the same arm that would tug his arm to hurry him up or reach out to his during sad parts in movies.
Right now, the vigilante Nightwing had failed you, but the one wearing the pain was the bent over form of civilian Dick Grayson.
His eyes tingled and burned, chest heaving before he knew it with scattered sobs. He calmed them down soon enough, the Bruce that lived in the back of his voice yelling at him to get it together, all while chanting over that same old sentence in tandem. 'I told you so. I told you so. I told you so.' The sadness didn't last long however, quickly being replaced with an anger that flushed the skin of his neck bright red. He lifted you up in his arms, beginning the slow walk back to the car so he didn't irritate your injuries. His steps echoed out in the silent warehouse, competing with the racing sound of his heartbeat. As he walked, he was so focused on counting the unsteady breaths you took that he didn’t notice the suit melding to his skin, consuming him with invisible teeth until the civilian part of Dick dissolved completely.
'I told you so.'
'I told you so.'
'I told you so.'
Dick wasn't made to be a civilian, despite how he wore their clothes and played the part of a happy townsperson. He concluded that you were bright enough to live the life of a civilian for both of you, revelling in the little moments of peace that his nighttime job had fought to preserve.
Dick was made to be a vigilante, Bruce turning his rage and anger at the world into a weapon, a tool to shape Gotham and carve out the parts that threatened the lives of innocent people.
Dick was about to show them just how well he had learned to wield that weapon.
#messenger of babel#fanfic#dc comics#dc#dc fanfic#dc x reader#nightwing#richard grayson#dc robin#nightwing fanfic#dc nightwing#nightwing fanfiction#nightwing comics#dick grayson x you#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson#ririresponds#ririsrequests#please send requests i love them sm
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The Hundred Line: Last Defense Academy - Initial Character Thoughts
This is going to have a lot of Danganronpa comparisons, name analysis, and just my overall thoughts on each character before the game is out. Feel free to comment your own thoughts!
Darumi Amemiya (飴宮 怠美)
"A young woman known for her mood swings and obsession with all things dark and depressing. She's a big fan of killing game stories and has no fear of death. If she has to die, all she wants is a death that's as dramatic and flamboyant as humanly possible."
Crazy thing I'm about to say, she reminds me of Genocide Jack. She sticks her tongue out a lot and seems to be completely desensitized to anything regarding death. It makes me think she's just desperate for a thrill in her life.
I don't really like her design but I think if the vibrant colors were turned down, it would be much better. I do enjoy it in a way, being able to dress however you want reveals a lot about someone's confidence. I love how she looks in her other outfit and I honestly think if her shirt was less white, I'd love her hair.
Ame means candy, miya means palace, daru means lazy, and mi means beauty. Daru is not common in names, so it definitely has a meaning. This name doesn't have any straightforward meaning to me, but I suppose Darumi is a more unique character. Her name might make sense later. I do theorize, for the lazy part, she was bored before getting into dark stuff, kinda like Junko.
Eito Aotsuki (蒼月 衛人)
"Takumi's most trusted ally. Eito cares very deeply for his friends and isn't shy about expressing those feelings, corny as they may sound. He's been weak and sickly since he was little, but his impressive intellect might be just what the team needs to guide them through the war safely."
We are all thinking about the exact same image. Anyway, I think I'll love him because it seems he has a bit of a crazy side as well (I love crazy people). He's also very forward and compassionate, so I'll enjoy seeing both sides of him.
He looks like one of Nagito's beta designs which I think tells me everything I need to know. I find him cute but his jacket being the same color as his skin kinda throws me off. I'm also curious as to why he wears gloves, he's dressed like it's winter.
Ao means blue and tsuki means moon. His first name is interesting, as the kanji for Ei is the same kanji used in the game's title, meaning defense. To means human and is also a common ending for a boy name. I find the term blue moon fitting for his appearance, and I assume his role in battle will mostly be defense.
Gaku Maruko (丸子 楽)
"A guy who's true to his personal desires (to put it delicately). He's a coward and always looking out for himself. However, there's something so refreshingly honest about his pettiness that it's hard to hate him. Gaku's also good at taking care of other people once he opens his heart to them."
I will not lie, I don't think I'm going to like him. I'm okay with a character being a coward and I'm okay with a character being selfish, but both does not seem like a mood maker to me. I think I'll find him annoying but I'll be happy to be surprised.
He's got some patchwork in his clothes, so I think he might come from a troubled past. His shirt is really stupid looking though, but it's stupid enough to circle back to being slightly cute.
Maru means round and ko means child, but together, Maruko is a type of meatball. Not exactly the same as Western ones, but very similar. Gaku means comfort. I think his first name goes well with the fact he takes good care of those close to him. In Japanese, Gaku is also a homophone for the word school. As for Maruko, I don't know.
Hiruko Shizuhara (雫原 比留子)
"Leader of the Special Defense Unit. A cold, almost heartless beauty, she always says what's on her mind, even if it means offending others. She's just as merciless on the battlefield, where she gets a twisted sense of pleasure from tearing invaders apart."
She enjoys murder, I think I'll like her. I'm very curious as to why she's considered the leader of the group. The way she's described as merciless on the battlefield makes me think she has murdered before. Maki but a little more crazy (I love crazy people).
She has a lot going on that I really enjoy, the piercings, the makeup, the hair clip. She's also 5'11, which I think will be funny next to our 5'6 protagonist.
Shizu means droplet and hara means original, but is also just a common ending for Japanese surnames, like Saihara and Gokuhara. Hi means compare, ru means remain, and ko means child. Hiruko, spelled 蛭子, is also one of the names of Ebisu, a God of fishing, wealth, and fortune. Ebisu also uses the kanji 比, which is in Hiruko's name. Her last name is also water related.
Ima Tsukumo (九十九 今馬)
"One of a set of twins - Ima is the elder by a few minutes. He acts like a carefree joker, but underneath that humor is a hint of something darker. A hardcore siscon, he thinks of nothing but protecting his sister. If anything or anyone dares to threaten Kako's safety, Ima will show them no mercy."
This might ruin people's perception of me, but I don't care that he's a siscon. Like at all. It might be an uncomfortable attribute but after four Danganronpa games, I could not be less phased. I think I'll like him since he seems silly but also a little crazy (I love crazy people).
One of the cutest characters here. I thought he was a girl at first but he just has luscious eyelashes. I love the color of his hair and the streaks in it, I think they go well with his eyes. His sprite here looks very chummy.
Tsukumo means ninety-nine, which is one less than a hundred and how many days they have left after day one. Ima by itself means now but his name only uses the “I” part of it and then uses horse for the ma part. Basically 今 = Ima and 今馬 = Ima. It would be the same with or without the last kanji, but I assume it's there to make it seem more like a name. However, I can't help but connect him to Oma.
Kako Tsukumo (九十九 過子)
"One of a set of twins - Kako is the younger by a few minutes. She's prone to spacing out, but also has a keen mind and a healthy sense of curiosity. Kako is a big fan of mystery stories and wants to be a private investigator when she grows up."
She seems like a regular teenager to be honest, but the spacing out and solving mysteries reminds me of Chiaki. I think I'll like her, but I can't really pin her personality based on this description.
I adore her hairstyle and her bow. The color of her hair looks really nice with her eye color. Funny enough, I didn't realize her and Ima were siblings until I saw the eyes. Like the uniform did not give it away for some reason.
Like her brother, Kako's last name means ninety-nine. The kanji for ka means past, contrasting the meaning of her brother's name. I like to theorize there will be a character named something including future, but that's a reach. Ko means child, it's a very common ending for female names. It might just be to make Kako seem more like a name, but perhaps it also represents childishness.
Kurara Oosuzuki (大鈴木 くらら)
"The scion of one of the most wealthy families humanity has ever known. She's proud, overbearing, and acts like she's better than anyone else. She always wears a strange tomato mask, never showing her true face."
I like the proud type of character, someone like Miu or Byakuya. She seems to be more focused on degrading others than uplifting herself though, but that's just based on her quote. I also really want to see her face but oddly if it's never shown I won't be disappointed.
I don't really care for masks that completely cover a character's face, I like to see at least some parts, but the fact the mask expresses emotions makes me content with it. I also thought it was a Jack-o-Lantern at first, but I guess it's just a scary tomato? The rest of her outfit is nice, fits the rich girl thing.
Oo means great, suzu means bell, and ki means tree. Suzuki is a very common Japanese last name, so adding great in front of it makes sense for her prideful personality. Kurara is a type of plant that is very bitter. I assume this will also relate to her personality.
Kyoshika Magadori (凶鳥 狂死香)
"A young samurai who's utterly clueless about the modern world. Has never even heard of multiplication tables, let alone learned them. She has a disturbingly close relationship with her katana, the Holy Jumonji Sword."
Kyoshika is who I think my favorite character will be. She's very Tenko like, a character I love very much. Her birthday is 11/11 which I hope is a joke about how she cut 1111 perfectly in half. While she isn't very modern, I can still see she has a reliable personality. Her name also hints she might be a little crazy (I love crazy people). Lastly, Ninja's are cool.
I love her outfit, especially the katana on her hip and the huge cape. She also has a normal ponytail, not often seen in Danganronpa. I like how her ponytail looks like a shuriken. Her face reminds me of Maki a bit, another character I love. I also love the colors. I just really love her so far.
We have a very straightforward name here. Maga means bad or unlucky and dori means bird. Unlucky bird? Crows are often associated with death, but that might not be the message it's going for. Kyoshi literally means crazy to death. Ka means scent, but is also just a common ending for a girl name.
Moko Mojiro (喪白 もこ)
"A young woman who is blowing up on the high school pro wrestling scene. Her courage and boundless energy is a source of inspiration for the entire Special Defense Unit. Whenever she has a problem, she faces it head on. She didn't choose the wrasslin' life - it chose her."
Her personality reminds me a lot of Aoi. Probably with more courage though. She seems like she'll get along better with girls than boys. The boundless energy makes me think she'll be fun to play, but we'll see.
We finally got ourselves another buff woman, Sakura fans rejoice. I like how her hair, face, and outfit are cutesy, it shows she can be physically strong while still being girly, something Sakura wanted.
Sigh... I don't get her name at all, Mo means mourning and jiro means white. Her first name is in Hiragana so I don't know the exact meaning, nor do I really have an idea on her last name. I thought about Peko and how pekopeko is an onomatopoeia. Mokomoko is an onomatopoeia for something thick and soft. Not sure if that relates to her personality. I'd say her last name is a death flag but everyone dies in this game so that doesn't mean much.
Nozomi Kirifuji (霧藤 希)
"A high schooler who combines a kindhearted nature with dogged determination in battle. She's very passionate about the Special Defense Unit's mission, but also seems to be hiding something. For some reason, Nozomi is identical in appearance to Takumi's childhood friend Karua."
I'm a sucker for characters hiding a big secret, so I'm excited for hers, I assume it's related to Karua but how so? Much to think about. She's kind and passionate, so I think she'll be very easy to like as a character.
Cute, cute, cute, cute, cute!!! She is adorable from her hair to her shoes. I really like her hair especially. Her name is cute too. I think she's my favorite design overall, it's pleasing to look at.
Kiri means fog, which, like Kirigiri, I believe represents the mysterious aspect of her. Fuji means wisteria, which are purple just like her. Nozomi means hope, which is a name I was surprised Kodaka never used. I always thought Nozomi would be a great name for Chiaki, but I'm getting off track. Overall her name is peaceful but mysterious, fitting her description.
Shouma Ginzaki (銀崎 晶馬)
"A young man who, by his own admission, has absolutely nothing going for him. On a scale of one to ten, his self-esteem's at negative five. He's constantly putting himself down."
It seems like a lack of self-worth is gonna be his whole thing. I'm not really looking forward to it. Nagito did it too, but was also a very positive person, but it seems Shouma is just depressed. I just don't want everything he says to be about how he's worthless.
His design is okay. I think I'd like it better without the hat but it's not too bad, just makes him look a little immature. I do think his face and haircut are cute. He's also very small.
Gin means silver and zaki means small peninsula, but is mostly associated with being an ending for a surname, so I doubt it changes the meaning. Shou means crystal, and like in Ima, ma means horse. The silver and crystal parts are definitely connected, maybe he's wealthy? Or maybe it symbolizes his personality instead. Not very sure.
Takemaru Yakushiji (厄師寺 猛丸)
"An old-school delinquent who lives to ride and rides to live. Despite his rough-and-ready demeanor, Takemaru's really a nice guy on the inside. Impulsive, straightforward, and honorable to a fault, he's sworn to never use his strength to bully the weak."
He seems like a generally good character but I can sense there will be a lot of him yelling. Honestly, he just seems a lot like Mondo to me, so I don't have much to say. I like Mondo but I'm not sure we need another one. Also he says he doesn't hit girls, kids, or the eldery, so first thing I know is he sees girls as weak.
Give him the corn hair and he's literally Mondo. I do like Takemaru's hair though, it's kinda cute. He's got a lot of scars on his face, so I feel like he might be a little reckless. All the characters have dull skin but I feel some vibrance would do him good.
Yaku means disaster or evil, shi means master, and ji means temple. The temple part adds up with the old school aspect, like in Saionji and Shinguji. The first part likely just represents him being a delinquent. In his first name, Take means fierce and maru means round. I think this is mostly just a pun, “Takemaru Hair” is a hair style associated with delinquents.
Takumi Sumino (澄��� 拓海)
"The main character of this story. A completely average high schooler from a completely average family. He can be a little indecisive and pessimistic at times, but when he has something to protect, he'll fight with everything he's got."
Classic average high schooler as our protagonist, expected for these kinds of stories. I'm in no way a hater of the archetype, I love Makoto, Hajime, and Komaru lots, so I think I'll like him too. His introduction is pretty negative, but I find pessimism to be an endearing trait, so I feel like I'll love him.
I'm not really a fan of the bright red hair, but it's not bad. I would like if the red and black in his hair switched. Also, classic ahoge. I find his eyes beautiful, they're very sharp, great for a pessimist. Not much to say about his outfit.
I don't know why but I really like his name and the kanji used in it. It just sounds and is written nice. Sumi means clear and no means field, but it's also just a common ending for surnames. Taku means opening land and mi means ocean. I think the opening land part fits the fact he's in a new place and the sea is more metaphorical for how vast it is.
Tsubasa Kawana (川奈 つばさ)
"A young woman who knows a lot about machines and what makes them tick. She had a bright, lively personality, but isn't good with stressful situations. When she gets nervous, she gets nauseous, and then..."
She is so cute I already know she'll be one of my favorite characters. She's energetic and social but gets sick when nervous, I can very much empathize with her... If this game has things like free time events, I'd like to spend some with her.
I absolutely adore her design. Her hair is beautiful, her entire outfit is cool, I like the way she carries herself. She also has the classic Danganronpa mouth mole, a need for all of Kodaka's games. Her necklace thing is odd but I'll look past it.
Kawa means river and na means doubts, however, the kanji for na isn't really known for its meaning and is mostly associated with being a part of a name. The last sentence implies she throws up when nervous, so, for lack of better phrasing, maybe the river represents that? And doubt is what fuels that nervousness? I think I'm reaching here. Tsubasa means wings, which I think is bright and lively like her personality.
Yugamu Omokage (面影 歪)
"A striking young man who's been in the business since long before the war started. Unlike the rest of his family (who are also assassins, by the way), Yugamu believes that killing should be done with love. He enjoys torture and other immoral forms of pleasure."
He's crazy like for real crazy (I love crazy people). His description makes me raise an eyebrow about what exactly "immoral forms of pleasure" are but I won't make assumptions until the game is out. He kills for love which reminds me of a character I love with all my heart. He'll never compare to her but it's okay.
The outfit is very nice but the random organs are a bit odd. That's probably the point, but it's just really random. I find him ugly and I love it. His hair is also bad and I love it. I love this ugly boy.
Omokage means face shadow, referring to imagining someone's face with your mind. Kind of like imagining someone, usually dead, is there with you. Yugamu means distorted. Another on the nose name. Remembering a face but it's distorted, could refer to his own scarred face, or perhaps forgetting what someone who has passed away looks like. He has a strong connection with love, so perhaps someone he once knew. It likely just refers to his own face.
Sirei and Nigou (SIREI) & (NIGOU)
"The principal and commanding officer of Last Defense Academy. To put it another way, a weird little robot that orders the members of the Special Defense Unit around. Under his command, Takumi and the others will be working to wipe out the mysterious School Invaders." "Sirei's assistant and second in command. An odd little robot that has a gentle, caring personality, but is also prone to making careless mistakes. He's completely loyal and subservient to Sirei."
I'll keep it short and simple, if these two aren't funny I won't care for them at all.
I kinda like their designs. It's unique how you can see their brain and heart, but I think that's because those two are the most vital organs. Also, what's with Nigou's lips? I don't even know their gender so I'll just use they/them for the time being. The English description says "He" but the Japanese text doesn't explicitly use he and there no other instance to use.
Their names are romanized in Japanese as well, so they don't have an obvious meaning, but I have a theory! I believe Sirei is 司令 “Shirei” meaning in command and Nigou is 二号 “Nigou” meaning number two, as in second to Sirei. Sirei and Shirei are pronounced the same in Japanese.
Final Thoughts
I'm hyped for this game. I haven't talked about the gameplay aspects but my absolute favorite thing in games is multiple endings. A hundred endings is a paradise for me. A lot of the sneak peaks leave me curious, so I'm excited to play it. April 24th! I think I'll enjoy the cast. I also like the majority of Kodaka's characters because they're so complex, so I have no doubts about loving this new cast.
Sorry for any spelling errors, this was a lot to proofread.
#the hundred line#the hundred line last defense academy#last defense academy#darumi amemiya#eito aotsuki#gaku maruko#hiruko shizuhara#ima tsukumo#kako tsukumo#kurara oosuzuki#kyoshika magadori#moko mojiro#nozomi kirifuji#shouma ginzaki#takemaru yakushiji#takumi sumino#tsubasa kawana#yugamu omokage#sirei#nigou
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