#and it's one of the things i love about this family also

[cressidagrey]

White Horse - Chapter 32: September 2024 - Part 3

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Isabelle Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen is a World Champion. Isabelle Leclerc is invisible.

She watched her family give up everything for Charles’ career—Arthur’s karting, their father’s savings, even her childhood horse. She understood. She never asked for more.

But Max does. He notices the things no one else does, listens when no one else will, and puts her first in ways she never imagined. With him, she isn’t an afterthought—she’s a choice. And for the first time, she realizes she doesn’t have to be invisible.

Warnings and Notes: 

we have now moved on from Charles bashing to bashing his whole family, Discussions of toxic past relationships, talk about loosing a childhood pet, toxic families, mention of the loss of a parent.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Text Messages: Emilie Abadie & Victoria Verstappen

Emilie: So I’ve decided i’m planning Belle’s baby shower. You in?

Victoria: YES god yes i thought you’d never ask

Emilie: i knew you were my people

Emilie: we are going to destroy her with love

Victoria: as it should be

Emilie:Belle said the nursery will be jungle-themed But like classy jungle. not neon animal prints. think: baby Tarzan but with better lighting

Victoria:So tasteful jungle. Earth tones? Greens? Wood accents?

Emilie: YES. I was thinking “woodland safari” vibes like if Paddington Bear took a gap year in Tanzania

Victoria:I know exactly what you mean

Emilie:We do green and gold

maybe some dried eucalyptus and baby’s breath??

wooden signs?? one that says “A little wild one is on the way” and makes me cry in public???

Victoria: That’s actually adorable. Okay: green, gold, maybe ivory or beige accents. Nothing with leopard print unless it’s ironic.

Emilie:Sent

 also we are getting little elephant sugar cookies

and a cake topper that’s a baby lion wearing a crown

and we’re doing a “write a wish for baby” station or i riot

Victoria: You know Belle’s going to sob, right?

Emilie: that’s the GOAL she deserves the most beloved jungle baby shower in history

Victoria:No jungle noises sound machine. I draw the line at simulated monkey shrieks.

Emilie: coward.

Victoria: Okay, next item: guest list. How big are we going?

Emilie: Small enough to keep it personal. Big enough to make Belle cry at the sheer volume of love.

Victoria: So like… emotionally intimate but logistically bold.

Emilie: Exactly. Also: I vote no gender rules. Men are absolutely allowed. Max is not escaping this with a handshake and a gift bag.

Victoria: Agreed. If she carried the baby, he can carry a platter of mini quiches.

Emilie: Yes. It’s 2025. Equal opportunity baby shower sobbing.

Guest List: First of all, Belle and Max. Obviously. 

Victoria: Obviously. Me, you.

Emilie: Oscar’s Lily? She will cry and also judge the dessert table with me.

Victoria: Oscar too. 

Emilie: oh definitely he and Belle have a weird soft sibling vibe.  Also he’ll bring snacks and quiet competence. I’m counting on him to make Lando behave.

Victoria: Speaking of: Lando?

Emilie: I don’t care if he pretends to be cool and unfazed. He’s coming and he’s writing a wish for the baby. But he must be emotionally supervised.

Victoria: GP + wife?

Emilie: 

He brings emotional calm. And probably good wine. But he has to promise not to bring team merch as a gift. This is not a Red Bull onboarding event.

Victoria: So… the Leclercs?

Emilie:

😬

Emilie:

I’ll message Alexandra and Charlotte and say they’re absolutely welcome—if they can keep their boyfriends leashed and emotionally housebroken for the duration of the event. 

Arthur is easy. He’s scared of me. 

Victoria: Reasonable.

Emilie: If Charles tries to do a grand gesture apology in the middle of Belle unwrapping a swaddle set, I will throw him into the dessert table.

Next name on the landmine list: Pascale.

Victoria: 

Easy. I’ll just have my mom deal with her. She’ll smile, say something cutting, and suddenly Pascale will be quietly eating a macaron in the corner reflecting on her parenting choices.

Alternatively:  And we’ll simply seat my dad near her.

Jos won’t say much. He’ll just… exist.

Stoic. Imposing. 

Any Leclerc who tries to stir up drama will get one look and remember their mortality.

Emilie: Jos Verstappen as emotional bouncer. I want that printed on a T-shirt.

Victoria: Exactly. You want passive-aggressive guilt spirals? Not with Jos around. He has no time for emotional mess unless it involves lap times or tire degradation.

Emilie: He’ll stand there like a wall of paternal disapproval and every problematic relative will instinctively behave.

Victoria: Perfect. Now back to the important question: Do we get little wooden animals as name cards or is that too cute?

Emilie: I’m literally crying. She’s going to feel so loved.

Victoria: That’s the point. This is her village. And it’s feral, organized, and absolutely ready.

Victoria: I’ll draft the invites. Do we want them printed or digital?

Emilie: Printed. On seeded paper. That turns into wildflowers. Because I’m an emotional menace and Belle will cry.

Victoria: You’re unwell and I love it. Okay, I’ll message the stationery girl I used for a friend’s baby shower. Prepare to be impressed.

***

Text Messages: Emilie Abadie, Alexandra Saint Mleux & Charlotte Di Pietro

Emilie:

Ladies 💚

so: I’m planning belle’s baby shower

You’re both invited

But

If you want to bring your boyfriends, please keep them on emotional leashes

Charlotte: Oh my god

Alexandra: Understood short leash or retractable?

Emilie:

I don’t want belle opening tiny socks while Lorenzo gazes into the distance like he just read a tragic poem, Charles makes it all about himself and if Arthur even thinks about giving an unsolicited speech, i swear—

Charlotte:

we’ll drug arthur with complimentary cupcakes

Alexandra:

I’ll sit next to him and kick him under the table if he starts twitching

Emilie:

Thank you. you’re doing the lord’s work.

Charlotte:

Where is the shower, btw?

Emilie:

Scouting locations

But probably… the restaurant where she and max had their first date

And also had their wedding reception 

Charlotte:

NO

Alexandra:

wait

ACTUALLY?

Emilie:

Iconic, right??

She won’t expect it

It’s sentimental, it’s beautiful, and Max won’t get lost trying to park

Charlotte:

You’re such a menace

I love it

Emilie:

Thank you

Now go warn your men.

This is not the time for family therapy. this is the time for jungle plushies and emotional overwhelm.

Alexandra:

Copy that.

I’ll handle charles.

May god help us all.

Charlotte:

I’ll handle Lorenzo. 

Arthur will be given a cupcake and a babysitter.

I’ve got this.

Emilie:

You two are the real MVPs

***

Text Messages: Emilie Abadie & Lily Zneimer

Emilie:

tell your boyfriend he’s babysitting Lando at Belle’s baby shower

Lily:

Excuse me???

Babysit Lando yourself.

He’s your boyfriend, Emilie.

Emilie:

He’s not my boyfriend. 

I’m on belle-duty

Full emotional concierge service. I don’t have time to stop Lando from stealing baby cookies or making jungle noises

Lily:

Honestly fair

But Oscar’s not a zookeeper

Emilie:

He’s calm. He’s emotionally balanced. He’s got that soothing energy that makes toddlers and unstable drivers relax

Lily:

You make my boyfriend sound like a sentient weighted blanket

Emilie:

am i wrong?

Lily:

No. Which is the annoying part.

Fine. I’ll let him know he’s on Lando-watch.

He’s going to ask if that includes snacks

Emilie:

it absolutely includes snacks.

preferably ones he can throw at Lando if needed

Lily:

God help us all

Let me know if you need any help. I am surprisingly good at calligraphy. 

***

Text Messages: Oscar Piastri & Emilie Abadie

Oscar:

So.

Apparently I’m your boyfriend’s designated babysitter at the baby shower?

Emilie:

Not my boyfriend. But yes. You are Lando’s designated babysitter. 

Level 3 supervision.

You may use snacks and Max glares as reinforcement tools.

Oscar:

Why me

Emilie:

Because he listens to you.

And you’re calm.

And I trust you not to join him if he tries to tape a “future world champion” sign to Belle’s bump.

Oscar:

You’re assuming I won’t be too busy hiding behind a fern.

Emilie:

You have won two Grand Prixs. You can handle one emotional jungle-themed social gathering.

Oscar:

Lando has already texted me a design for baby-sized racing boots. They have wings on them, Emilie

Emilie:

Do NOT let him give those to Max. Max will use them

Oscar:

He also wants to “casually mention” naming the baby after Senna. I told him to stop texting and go hydrate

Emilie: 

You see? This is why you’re perfect for this job

Oscar:

I hate how right you are

Emilie:

You love it. You love being the responsible one. you love keeping all of us feral little gremlins alive

Oscar:

I tolerate it.

Because I love Belle.

And because if Lando breaks something during a baby shower I will never emotionally recover

Emilie:

This entire event is going to be a mascara massacre and we are going to LOVE it.

Oscar:

I’ll bring tissues. And a tranquilizer dart. For Lando, not Belle.

Emilie:

I’m putting you on the spreadsheet as “handler: Norris, L.”

Oscar:

Add hazard pay.

Oscar:

Also, you should maybe tell Lando that he isn’t your “boyfriend” because he sure acts like you are his girlfriend. 

***

The Singapore humidity clung to everything like a second skin. Belle had given up on pretending her hair wasn’t frizzing and was now sitting with her feet up on a second chair, aggressively sipping her iced bubble tea and watching Lando Norris spiral.

“I swear to god,” she muttered, “if he sighs one more time like the ghost of heartbreak past, I’m going to throw this at him.” She held up the tapioca pearls at the bottom of her cup as evidence.

Lily looking far too put-together for how disgustingly warm it was, raised a single brow and followed Belle’s gaze.

“Oh. He’s doing the walk again.”

It was the third time Lando had passed the hospitality tent in the last twenty minutes. No pit stop. No purpose. Just dragging his feet like a heartbroken protagonist in an indie film. Sunglasses on. 

Hoodie in this weather. Hands in pockets. Pout firmly in place.

Belle deadpanned, “This is the emotional equivalent of when he lost that podium.”

“He’s not even trying to hide it,” Lily added, stirring her drink. “Oscar told me he’s been playing Emilie’s old voice notes like he’s crafting a scrapbook of despair.”

Belle just sighed. “He’s been like this since after Baku. He asked Max yesterday if emotional scurvy is a real thing.”

“I—what?”

“Apparently he thinks he’s developing ‘separation-related vitamin deficiencies.’” Belle mimed air quotes, then rolled her eyes. “Max offered him a banana. He said it wasn’t the same.”

Lily cackled. “That’s so dramatic.”

“He stared out at the water this morning like he expected Emilie to emerge from the mist on a gondola,” Belle muttered. “I can’t keep doing this. Max is getting secondhand annoyed.”

“Should we… check on him?”

“No,” Belle said flatly, pulling out her phone. “We’re escalating.”

***

Text Messages: Belle Verstappen & Emilie Abadie

Belle: I’m saying this with love. But your boyfriend is wilting.

Emilie: ??? What are you on about

Belle: Lando. He’s stomping around the paddock like someone took away his favourite toy. Or like he hasn’t been hugged in a week. Which, coincidentally, tracks.

Emilie: It’s been 8 days, actually. Not that I’m counting.

Belle: Well he is. By sulking in the motorhome and making Oscar fetch him snacks like a Victorian child in mourning.

Emilie: I’m— 😭😭😭 Not the Victorian child

Belle: He told Oscar he had a phantom pain in his chest when he saw a girl with blonde hair at breakfast.

Emilie: NO

Belle: Yes. Oscar nearly choked on his toast. Then offered to print you out and tape you to the door of Lando’s driver room.

Emilie: I hate this paddock so much 💀

Belle: Anyway. Come to Singapore. Save us from the sadness. And I want bubble tea.

Emilie: This feels manipulative.

Belle: It is manipulative. I learned from the best. Also I’m hormonal and pregnant and will cry if you say no.

Emilie: You weaponized your unborn child. Wow. I knew you’d be dramatic.

Belle: I prefer theatrical. You in?

Emilie: ...Send me your hotel info. I’ll book the flight.

***

Belle knew exactly what she was doing.

She sipped her mocktail with the air of someone completely innocent, despite the look Max kept shooting her over the rim of his glass. It wasn’t her fault Emilie’s flight had landed early. It also wasn’t her fault that Lando had spent the last week moping around the paddock like a Victorian poet with a tragic case of unrequited love. Honestly, Belle was doing the world a favour.

Max leaned a little closer, voice low and teasing. “You’re very pleased with yourself.”

She smiled, eyes following the familiar silhouette weaving through the crowd just outside the McLaren hospitality. “Maybe.”

Max chuckled. “Should I be worried you’re this good at scheming?”

“You should have been worried ages ago,” she said sweetly.

From across the terrace, Lando appeared — animated, arms waving in some exaggerated retelling of his qualifying lap to Oscar and a few mechanics. His curls were damp with sweat, his cap backwards, his smile wide. But Belle noticed the way it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Not like it used to.

Max caught the shift too, the smile slipping into something softer. “He misses her.”

“I know,” Belle murmured. “So I fixed it.”

Max huffed a laugh. “You really are dangerous.”

“Only when I care.”

Then, like clockwork, the front entrance of the hospitality tent shifted open — and there she was.

Emilie.

Hair pulled back into a low bun, sunglasses perched on her head, wearing a linen jumpsuit that somehow made airport fatigue look chic. She scanned the terrace quickly — eyes darting past engineers and drivers and sponsors — and then landed on them.

Belle gave her the world’s smallest nod.

And Emilie moved.

Belle barely contained her grin as Lando caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, turned—

And froze.

His whole body stiffened. Like seeing a ghost. Or a miracle.

“Holy—” Lando started, voice strangled.

Emilie reached him in a few strides and before he could say anything else, she threw her arms around him.

Belle watched as his whole frame seemed to melt. As if someone had taken the tension and twisted it loose. His arms went around her, one hand cradling the back of her head like he didn’t quite believe she was real.

“Hey, idiot,” Emilie murmured. “You didn’t think I was missing night race dumplings, did you?”

Lando made a sound that could only be described as emotionally overwhelmed baby giraffe. Belle saw Oscar smirk in the background, muttering something to a nearby PR rep that made them both laugh.

Max looked down at Belle, his voice warm. “That was very kind of you.”

Belle rested a hand on her bump, heart full. “They needed a win.”

“And what about you?” he asked, gently nudging her side.

She tilted her head up at him. “I’ve already got mine.”

Max’s smile softened, eyes flicking to her belly, then back. “You’re going to be a terrifying mother.”

Belle grinned. “I can only hope.”

Across the terrace, Lando and Emilie stood wrapped in each other, oblivious to the world. And Belle allowed herself a rare, smug moment of satisfaction.

Mission: Get Lando to Stop Sulking – complete.

***

It was the kind of heat that stuck to your skin like honey. The kind that lingered long after the engines had gone quiet and the fireworks had faded.

Singapore at night always felt like a fever dream. And tonight — with Lando Norris standing on the top step the podium for the third time this season, champagne-soaked and shining under the floodlights — it felt almost mythic.

Belle watched from the edge of the paddock chaos, tucked just behind the barriers near Parc Fermé, her hand resting on the curve of her belly. Max had pulled off a brilliant second place — not a win, not what he always wanted, but tonight it hadn’t mattered. Because Lando had driven like a man possessed. Like a man who had something — or maybe someone — to fight for.

And Belle had seen it happen in real time.

The checkered flag. The scream over the radio. The disbelieving, almost frantic way Lando had leapt from the car and paced like he didn’t know what to do with the adrenaline. Then — like gravity had found him again — he turned.

Emilie was already there.

She’d made her way down with the mechanics, badge flashing, heart in her throat. Belle didn’t know if someone had told her to go or if she’d just known. But the second Lando spotted her, the world shrunk.

No PR officials. No cameras. No team principals. Just her.

He didn’t hesitate. Not for a second.

One stride. Two. And then he was in front of her, grabbing her face like a man starved of touch, of home, of her. And kissed her.

Right there. In Parc Fermé. Helmet off, fireproofs half-zipped, shaking with emotion — he kissed her like she was the trophy. Like the whole damn weekend had led to this.

The crowd exploded. Screaming, cheering, wolf-whistling. Someone from McLaren hooted so loud Belle actually jumped.

And Belle?

Belle smiled.

Because Max had just pulled himself out of the RB20, sweat-slick and grinning like a man with no regrets. He walked toward her slowly, soaking it all in — the cheers, the chaos, the way Lando and Emilie were still wrapped around each other like teenagers in a romcom.

He reached her, pulled his cap off, and kissed her forehead.

He slid his hand over hers, resting it gently on the swell of her belly. “Think he felt that?”

“The baby?” Belle asked. “I think he just learned about true love and strategic PR in one go.”

Max chuckled. “Good. He’s ahead of schedule.”

Lando was still laughing, still breathless as he lifted Emilie off her feet and spun her once, like he didn’t care who was watching. And maybe for the first time all year, Belle thought he didn’t.

Because this wasn’t just a win.

It was his win.

And maybe — just maybe — it was the beginning of something more.

Belle looked at Max, his face glowing in the floodlights, proud and unbothered, hand still holding hers like he’d never let go.

Yeah. She thought, not for the first time that season, this is a good life.

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/F1TeaDaily 🚨 BREAKING: Lando Norris WINS the Singapore Grand Prix!!! 🧡 Also Lando Norris KISSES A WOMAN IN PARC FERMÉ AND IT’S NOT HIS MUM OR HIS DOG?! More at 11.

@/gridgossipgirl lando norris just kissed someone in parc fermé. I repeat. HE KISSED HER. ON THE MOUTH. this is not a drill.

@/dannyricssmile lando norris kissing someone in parc fermé with the confidence of a man who has been Wifed�� someone check if she’s wearing a ring I’m begging

@/padockcryptid don’t get me wrong I’m happy he won but WHO THE HELL IS THAT GIRL AND HOW DO I BECOME HER

@/emiliesarchive hi yes the girl lando kissed is named emilie and she’s been seen around the paddock Spain, and she hangs out with Lily and Belle and once max verstappen handed her a juice box while glaring at lando. I knew something was up.

@/mrsoscarpiastri lando: wins a race lando: immediately turns into a fanfic boyfriend honestly it’s disgusting. i’m obsessed.

@/alexdoesmemes lando norris kissing his gf like they’re at the climax of a 2000s romcom while max just chills in p2 like a supportive older brother who knew the whole time cinema

@/BelleLeclercUpdates the way belle verstappen SMILED when she saw them kiss 😭 mother knows mother approves

@/sunshinef1girl i don’t want a boyfriend. i want a lando norris singapore gp 2024 parc fermé kiss.

@/quadrantclown lando: “I don’t talk about my private life” also lando: plants a cinematic kiss in front of three thousand cameras and god himself 🧍‍♂️

@/F1FictionReal so you’re telling me:

he wins

he kisses the girl

she wore a sundress

belle verstappen plotted this

max just smirked like he knew all along this isn’t a race. it’s the finale of season 3 of a netflix romance.

@/F1Girlie999 Lando Norris winning Singapore and then KISSING HIS GIRL like he's in a damn romance movie? Yes. Inject that into my veins.

💥💥💥💥💥

@/padDOCKwives every time i think f1 can't get more cinematic... lando wins. the lights. the heat. the sweat. the kiss. and in parc fermé?? someone call netflix.

@/F1StatManiac i don’t know what’s more impressive — Lando’s racecraft under pressure — or the grip he had on his girlfriend’s waist post-race 👏👏👏

@/bitchyforboveralls that was not a kiss that was a statement that was a thesis that was a roman empire

@/mclarenmediaarchive i will be studying the footage of that kiss like it's the zapruder film frame by frame. hand placement analysis. full body language breakdown.

@/f1fanatic89 lando. norris. won. and then kissed a girl like he’s the lead in a wattpad fic. is this growth???

@/gridgossip THE WAY HE JUST— HE JUST— DROPPED THE HELMET AND WALKED STRAIGHT TO HER THIS IS A ROM-COM I AM NOT OKAY

@/softverstappen someone said he kissed her like a man unburdened by poor strategy and I haven’t stopped laughing

@/wheelsemotions lando norris. won a race. kissed the girl. looked like a movie. and you want me to act normal about it????

@/gridwivesanonymous is this the lando norris arc where he finally gets the girl and the trophy?? oscar and max fewtrell better be flower girl and ring bearer

@mclarencultleader I just know Max looked at Lando and said “about damn time” and Belle clapped like it was the season finale someone confirm pls

***

The city outside still buzzed with post-race energy — horns in the distance, neon lights flickering against the windows. But inside their room, it was quiet.

Belle sat on the bed, one hand resting on her belly, her other tracing the condensation down a glass of water. Max was sitting at the edge, still in a t-shirt, hair damp from the shower, staring at nothing in particular.

“They said it on the broadcast,” Belle said softly. “That this might really be it for Daniel.”

Max didn’t respond at first.

He just nodded, slowly.

Then: “Yeah.”

Silence stretched again.

Belle watched him, her thumb brushing slow circles on the curve of her stomach. “Are you okay?”

Max exhaled through his nose. “He was my favourite teammate.”

There wasn’t any hesitation in the way he said it.

Not the kind of fondness people say in hindsight. But the honest kind — the kind with real warmth, buried under everything else that had changed since 2018.

Belle tilted her head. “Why?”

Max’s lips curved slightly, a quiet little thing. “Because he made the team feel lighter. Like… we could actually have fun. Even when the car was bad. Even when the pressure was worse.”

He paused. “He used to laugh in the briefing room just to make the engineers smile.”

Belle smiled too, just a little. “That sounds like him.”

“He was fast,” Max added, almost defensively. “Like really fast. People forget that. But he made it look easy because he was always joking. Like it wasn’t costing him anything.”

“And was it?” Belle asked.

Max hesitated. “Yeah. I think it was. But he never let it show.”

The baby shifted under Belle’s hand — a tiny kick, gentle but certain.

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” she asked.

Max looked over at her. “I think he’ll be loved. And I think that’s better.”

He reached across the space between them, hand warm over hers, where their son stirred.

“He made F1 better,” Max said quietly. “For all of us. And I don’t think people say that enough.”

Belle leaned her head against his shoulder. “Maybe it’s your turn to be that person now.”

Max snorted softly. “I don’t think I’m the new Ricciardo.”

“No,” she said. “But you’re someone else’s favourite now.”

He looked down at her — at her hand over his, the baby beneath — and let the silence settle again.

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess I am.”

***

Text Messages: Belle Verstappen & Daniel Ricciardo

Belle: Hey. I just wanted to say — thank you.

For everything.

For being kind to Max when he was 19 and furious at the world. For making him laugh when no one else could. For being a teammate, but also a real friend — the kind that sticks.

I don’t know if you realise how much of an impact you had on him. But I see it every day.

(Also: thanks for not killing him when he was an arrogant teenager with a death wish. I know it was close sometimes.)

He’s really going to miss you. We both are.

Belle: Also. Don’t disappear off the face of the earth. You’re not allowed.

You still owe this baby hundreds of Max Verstappen stories that will one day horrify him. Preferably with impressions and questionable accents.

The baby needs to know the full lore of 2017 Max, and I feel like only you can deliver it properly.

Belle: You’re family. You always have a place with us.

Daniel: 😭😭😭 Mate you’re actually gonna make me cry right now. I love you guys. So much. Tell Max I’m not gone. Just… onto the next corner.

And tell the little Verstappen I’ll bring the snacks and the stories. Even the embarrassing ones. Especially the embarrassing ones. 😎

***

[ilovecoelacanths]

what if i told you guys i actually decided not to drop out of college

[goldsainz]

# IH6 — ENGLISH LOVE AFFAIR !

MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ ollie berman’s twin is secretly in love with a fellow f1 driver, except it’s a not well kept secret.

002. NOTE !

✯ it’s been so long since i posted, that this is centred around the australian gp which was agesss ago. but anyways i hope you’ll like this and that this is a good enough “comeback” 🫶prepare to see more isack fics because he’s slowly but surely making his way up my fav drivers

yourusername updated their instagram stories!

olliebearman responded to your story!

olliebearman “baby brother” YOU’RE THREE MINUTES OLDER??? olliebearman also p17 is mean😔

yourusername you’re right, p15 is more accurate

olliebearman i’m telling dad

isackhadjar responded to your story!

isackhadjar Can’t wait to see you later!

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isackhadjar We always have the motorhome…

yourusername with all the media hovering that should be a last resort

isackhadjar A few minutes won’t raise suspicion

yourusername hmm we’ll see

liked by isackfan1, ynfan1 and 72,946

f1gossip It seems that the Australian GP was not so bad for Isack Hadjar after all. Multiple sources have said that after the driver’s crash, Ollie Bearman’s sister swiftly made her way to his garage. Though there is no concrete proof, we verified with the sources about them being at the GP, and it seems there could be some truth to this rumour!

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ynfan2 I’M SORRY WHATTT

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⤷ olliefan1 that man is about to set vcarb on fire

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⤷ olliefan2 girl that man wouldn’t hurt a fly

⤷ ynfan6 he doesn’t play about yn tho

liked by isackhadjar, flavy.barla and 276,438 others

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view all 4,147 comments

olliebearman excuse me?

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olliefan21 i’m sorry ollie but they are sooo cute

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olliefan22 if this gets ollie to crash out and score points i welcome it

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⤷ isackfan24 don’t let them silence you!!!!!

liked by pierregasly, visacashapprb and 601,847 others

isackhadjar Dieu, I love the English

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yourusername also you chose cute pics 🤌

⤷ isackhadjar See, you could trust me

⤷ yourusername hmm still up for debate

ynfan31 my queen has found her king

ynfan32 YOU KNOW I LOVE A LONDON *GIRL*

isackfan31 who knew our chronically online driver could make a cute hard launch post

olliebearman NUH UH

⤷ yourusername girl get over it

⤷ olliebearman over my f1 car

ynfan33 liked by pierregasly is backkkk

isackfan32 cannot wait to see her at the vcarb garage

ynfan34 MAMÁ Y PAPÁ

olliefan31 i’m sorry ollie but this is toooo iconic

⤷ ynfan35 after he gets over his tantrum he’ll see it too dw

isackfan33 i don’t know who im more jealous of

[vivwritesfics]

Wedding Rescue

Abandoned at Lorenzo's wedding, you called upon your 'situationship' for help.

Oscar Piastri x Leclerc!Reader

"We're going soon," her brother whispered to her as she spoke to their aunt.

She waved him off, made a note of what he said, but continued to speak to their aunt. It was rare the entire Leclerc family got together, with Charles in F1, Arthur as a development driver and her in fashion school in London.

But this was Lorenzo's wedding. Of course the entire family had to get together.

Charles met her eye, tried to wave her over. He used to head to gesture to the exit and he thought she gave a nod. Thought.

Charles, Alexandra, and Arthur walked out of the venue. She should have been following them, she should have been behind them, ready to climb into the back of Charles's Ferrari with Arthur.

But she wasn't. She was catching up with aunts and uncles and cousins. She was enjoying spending time with her family.

Lorenzo sat beside her. "Congratulations, Enzo," she said as she threw her arms around him. It was so damn exciting, her big brother taking the steps to start a family of his own.

Lorenzo hugged her back. "Thank you, ma petite sœur," he replied. "Do you know where Charles is?"

Shit, Charles. Standing up, she grabbed her little purse. It held nothing but her phone, a phone that didn't have her bank card attached. "Probably by the car," she said as if it was nothing.

Kissing Lorenzo on the cheek, she rushed out of the venue.

But Charles was gone. Arthur and Alexandre were gone. The Ferrari was gone.

Fuck.

Pulling her phone from her purse, she held it up to her ear and waited for Charles to pick up. There was just a few seconds between the phone ringing and him answering.

"Are you not in the back of my car?"

"Do you think I'd be calling you from the back of the car?!" She tried not to shriek the words, tried not to draw the attention of the employees outside of the venue.

"Charles, seriously, come and pick me up." She knew she sounded spoilt and entitled, but that was her right as the little sister. But, also, he fucking abandoned her!

She heard Charles release a sharp breath. "I'll turn around when I can, but you're going to be there for a little while," he told her.

"Charles." She tried to fill her voice with warning, but that had never worked with Charles. And she couldn't give the puppy eyes over the phone.

"I'm sorry! I'm trying."

She let out a sigh. "Forget about it," she said, leaning against the nearest wall. But then she remembered just how expensive her dress was and stood up straight again. "I'll find another way home."

Everybody in the Ferrari knew what that meant. "Just let one of us know when you're there," Charles said. "Love you."

"Love you." She hung up.

For a moment, she considered it. They weren't really a thing, and she had no idea if he would bother picking her up. It would be nice though, if he saw her in this dress. If he saw her with her hair and makeup this perfect. A rare sight for him.

Fuck it. She opened her phone and dialled his number. "Can you pick me up? I'm stuck," she said into the phone, holding her bag against her chest.

"Aren't you at your brothers wedding?" He asked.

She pulled her lip between her teeth. Her brothers didn't know about them; it wouldn't have been a surprise if he said no. But she continued speaking. "Charles abandoned me here and I don't want to bother Lorenzo," she explained quickly.

It was warm, as long as she stood in the sun. Crossing her fingers, she waited for his answer. Please, please, please.

Nothing.

Please.

"Send me your location."

"Thank you, Oscar!" She cried. "I swear I'll make it up to you!"

She didn't have to make it up to him, she should have known. But Oscar kept that information in his back pocket.

He wasted no time in climbing in his car and driving to pick her up. The girl he wanted to ask to be his. The girl he wasn't yet brave enough to ask out.

Oscar loved having her in his car. She belonged in his passenger seat, her shoes off, holding his hand between him changing gear.

He saw her before she saw him. A pretty blue dress, a square sort of neckline and straps that went wider over the top of her shoulders. Flowers were dotted all over the bodice and longer skirt.

It fit her like a glove, forcing Oscar to tear his eyes away before he crashed his car. He parked and leaned over the centre console to push open the door.

Grinning, she held her skirt as she climbed into his car. "You're quite literally the best," she said as she settled down, her purse in her lap.

Oscar glanced at her once before he began driving away. "Good wedding?" He asked as she undid the straps on her heels and pulled them off.

"Yeah," she said, throwing her heels into her back seat. "Could have done with a plus one, though."

Her hand touched his. Oscar turned his hand over, palm up, and let her lace her fingers through his.

Part of her wanted to invite Oscar to Lorenzo's wedding as her plus one. But that would mean explaining to her brothers why he was there. Oscar was great, the best of them (them being the driver's she'd managed to get to know), but she wasn't ready to explain anything to her brothers.

There wasn't anything to explain to her brothers, yet.

"You just back in Monaco for the wedding?" Oscar asked her, his thumb moving absentmindedly moving over her hand. But he let go of her to change gear and then grabbed her hand again.

She let out a hum, her body turned towards him. She kept her head against the headrest, watching him as he drove.

"Heading back to London tomorrow," she answered and yawned. It had been a fun day, but it had been exhausting.

Oscar raised his eyebrows. "Are you staying with your mum while you're here?" He asked. Purely because he needed to know where to drop her off, right?

She nodded her head. "Yeah, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind if I went to stay with somebody else for the night."

Driving, Oscar couldn't see the way her eyes sparkled as she looked at him. But he knew exactly what she wanted from the tone of her voice alone. "Okay," he said, bringing her hands up to his lips.

He kissed the back of her hand as he drove past her mother's apartment, driving her back to his.

[sillyfairygarden]

PANOPTICON MAGAZINE | my pieces for @mcyt-couture-zine

sooooo delighted to have taken part in this incredible collection of works! find the full zine here, and head below the cut for so so many details about my piece:

TONS of yapping ahead. THIS ZINE PIECE KILLED ME. Literally I'm so sorry to everyone I was friends with who heard me mald about this for six months. Ultimately it had nothing to do with the wonderful modteam or contributors and was mostly me over-committing to a piece... But it turned out pretty cool <3

Very early on I knew I wanted to draw the nosy neighbors (everyone claps) and Limited Life. Pearl and BigB are THEE duo and just felt like the perfect canvas to explore fashion. The goal of my piece at first was transition: using clothing and jewelry to bring the characters through their lives in the Life Series. However, this piece (originally it was a 3-image spread) quickly grew too many limbs and ideas to be contained by one thing. There were animals? And coats? And legs. It was kind of hectic and I ultimately grew to resent the piece's direction soooooooo 1 week before the 3rd check-in I started over BigB's and completely spliced up Pearl's ^_^ (Which was, in hindsight, the right thing to do and I should have done it weeks earlier, but we ball. ANYWAY). Jewelry! I love sparkly things and jewelry and I love gold. It has deep cultural and familial significance to me (and also is just very very pretty). So instead of using the jewelry to express their identity within limlife, I wanted to represent their characters as a whole within the Traffic Series.

PEARL: The Wolf (الذئب) I really love Pearl's post-DL identity as the guardian of her friends, taking a backseat from her lonelier days. I also love coding her as a knight ^_^ As a result, she wears fewer pieces of jewelry which mostly serve as tokens of sentiment.

Clock earrings serve as an homage to the time mechanism in Limited Life

Eye Ring ties her to BigB and his association with the evil eye in my previous works

Claw Nailed-Rings and Wolf Ring to bring some animalism and brutality to everyone's favorite wolfgirl (the wolf ring is worn on her left ring-finger, symbolizing her union with Tilly)

Emerald Mound meant to represent her Mounders from SL

Unicorn Brooch is another symbol of loyalty to BigB (who in the first draft of this piece had a unicorn animal companion... You've seen Thello butterfly-code BigB now get ready for unicorn-coding <333)

Galactic Text: "How to trust after being abandoned by all your loved ones and hunting down your ex only to be spared by him... Exclusive!"

BIGB: THE PRINCE (الأمير) THIS WAS THE PROBLEM CHILD PIECE... As mentioned I completely started over. Checks watch. Around a month before it was due after spending So Long on the original. But it turned out for the better! I love making BigB very princely and regal (and a little strange /pos) in my interpretations of him in other pieces of art, so this magazine-type cover felt like no different of an opportunity. He doesn't get the chance to be glamorous very much, so let's change that, shall we?

Fairy Wings Ring represents the Fairy Fort in Last Life

Heartstabber Ring is an homage to Double Life <3

Lilypad Ring to honor Judge Judy from Limited Life

Wolf Brooch is a symbol of patronage to Pearl, his knight.

Watch is BigB's homage to the time mechanism in Limited Life

Bee Ring is engraved with "The Jester" in Arabic along the side, with an amber-cast bee to symbolize being frozen, stuck in time and older memories.

Evil Eye Jewelry the evil eye has a deep cultural and spiritual history across different regions of the East and ME/NA regions of the world. In my upbringing, the presence of the evil eye was worn on jewelry, woven in to clothes, and hung on tapestries/ doorways to ward off the negative energy of the malevolent gaze.

The name "panopticon" comes from the social theory of surveillance from the 18th century. I'd learned about it years ago in my uni days and the concept of a watchtower-style surveillance system stuck with me: a concept where all participants of the system would be watched at all times, but could not watch back. With how often height, scaffolding, and surveillance were present in metagame play during Limited Life (the Nosy Neighbor tower, Bread Bridge, Skynet/Skynet2), I felt like the term panopticon felt relevant to the unique gameplay style taken on by the players during this season.

[twilightofthesandwiches]

It's interesting to think that, like... The Dark Sanctuary Dark World in Chapter 4 is the first Dark World we've seen that has no real connection to the theme of 'abandonment'.

Like, Card Kingdom is based on an unused classroom filled with abandoned toys. The entire plotline there revolves around King's anger and resentment at being abandoned by the Lightners and his desire to take revenge.

The computer room that became Cyber World is usually very frequently used, but.... because the Internet is down it's not at the moment. And Queen is driven by the anxiety of being abandoned if this internet shutdown continues, synthesized through her ego in a very "what would the Lightners do without me?" way.

And TV Land is the heaviest on this theme. With Tenna being driven by the grief of falling into disuse due to both technological advancements and the Dreemurr-Holiday Family Unit slow dissolution and the fear that this will get worse and he will be thrown out.

But then in the Dark Sanctuary... The Church is often used by the people of Hometown, this doesn't seem like it's going to change anytime soon and we see no Darkner be anxious about, like, the canceled Choir practice or anything like that. The closest thing we have to a 'leader' in that Dark World is Gerson/the Hammer of Justice, who is clearly a precious and well-loved Monster-Equivalent-of-an-Urn. If anything, his main worry is about him not being there for his Lightner son!

And, like, I said the Hammer of Justice is the closest thing we have to the 'Dark World Leader' slot in the formula seen in the previous three worlds, but that's also not quite the case.... cause he's also the Shadow Crystal Bearer of the same world. If the Hammer is like the Jevil or Spamton of this world, than it doesn't really have a King/Queen/Tenna for itself?

I remember when Chapter 2 came out, I already noticed this 'Abandonment' Pattern and I wondered whatever a Dark World created from objects that are not neglected or abandoned would just be far too.... content to actually have an adventure in it. Like, there would be no one to fight cause all the Darkners would just be chill and happy they're fulfilling their purposes.

And I also wondered if the Dark is, like, attracted to objects which were abandoned or neglected, gives them bigger importance or power in the Dark World. Hence a 'TV Land" instead of a general "Dreemurr House Land", the TV is the most abandoned thing there and so it is granted more focus.

And on that same topic I wondered about the fact Kris deliberately turned on the TV before opening that Dark Fountain. Like they were intentionally trying to aim for a TV Land Dark World.

Obviously the first idea, that non-abandoned Darkners would all just be benign NPCs has been disproved by the Dark Sanctuary, which has it's fair share of enemies to battle. But I think the idea that the Dark gives extra power and importance to things that have been Abandonment might have some merit. Not just with the Dreemurrs' living room being ruled and controlled by their disused old TV but also with the fact there isn't a clearly equivalent to Tenna (or Queen or King) in Dark Sanctuary.

And again, it makes me think of Kris' reasons for turning on the TV... Was it because their plans is to deliberately invoke the prophecy as much as possible and a TV Guy being slashed by the Knight is mentioned so they had to make a TV Guy?

Could they intuit that the Darkner that would be created from the Television would probably be desperate for attention and obsessed with Toriel and thus easier for the Knight to manipulate.... and also maybe that the Abandonment it feels will make it stronger?

(Notable perhaps that they also slightly opened the house's front door before turning on the TV and making a Fountain. In light of the events of Chapter 3, it seems like it was Kris laying a trap to pull Undyne to the Dark World so that the Knight could kidnap her)

Have Kris and/or the Knight have been deliberately seeking out abandoned and disused places that will therefore have stronger 'boss' Darkners that are easier to manipulate towards the Knight's goals?

And if that was the case, why did they stop with the Dark Sanctuary?

Did they just kinda... ran out of obviously abandoned places/things around Hometown?

Was it simply a matter of following the prophecy?

Was it a desperate attempt to re-capture Toriel via the choir practice?

Was the Knight just desperate to open a new Dark Fountain... somewhere and went with the Church as their first opportunity?

Was that pattern I noticed just a coincidence and doesn't actually mean anything?

A lot of things to think about...

[mylovesstuffs]

learning to be loved after forgetting what it feels like to be safe.

🥕 bae-sically fake. yoon jeonghan

a mylovesstuffs production...

“one hundred days for what?” / “for me to woo you.”

synopsis. you swear when you made up your fake relationship, you didn't know that someone worked at the coffee shop with the same name or that your family would go to check it out. now everyone thinks you guys are actually together, and, well, pretending to be fake partners has never been so complicated. jeonghan plays along, and even offers you a deal—100 days to let him try and woo your closed-off heart.

pairing. yoon jeonghan x fem!reader

genre/s. fake dating au, modern au, bit of social media au (?), romance, comedy, slice of life, slow burn, emotional healing

status. upcoming [estimated: ~ 40k words]

content warnings. mentions of past emotional abuse/manipulation, toxic ex, grooming mentioned [non-graphic but explicit reference], cheating and infidelity [past, non-graphic], mentions of underage grooming [girls legal but barely, predatory behavior], emotional trauma and flashbacks, ptsd-like emotional responses, manipulation disguised as affection [past], reference to stalking/following for confirmation of infidelity, heartbreak and betrayal, gaslighting implications [in past relationship], alcohol consumption, mild cursing/swearing, themes of grief and emotional vulnerability, soft romantic tension, no smut [so far; not written yet], emotionally guarded reader, indirect trauma references, workplace sexism [called out], fluffy but with realistic emotional baggage

will probably contain. fake dating, post-breakup healing, unexpected kindness, strangers-to-partners dynamic, deal-making [100 days to woo], soft and lover man!jeonghan, smart man!jeonghan protective best friends [celeste, seungkwan], healthy family, intense ex-relationship trauma, food symbolism [carrots, broccoli, lunches], slow emotional thawing, nice gestures [flowers, notes, meals], respect and gentle persistence, found family warmth, strong parent-daughter bond, work-life struggles, empowering ceo, flirtation, unspoken yearning, realistic emotional pacing [will be updated as chapters go on]

navigation/chapters & more under the cut ⟡

✦ navigation.

|| chapter one

|| chapter two

last updated: dd.mm.yyyy

querencia (spanish) /keh-REN-syah/ n. a place where one feels most at home; a source of strength and calm; a person or space where the soul feels safe without needing validation — often found not in places, but in people. “that name wasn’t meant to be a turning point, but somehow, it became hers — and he, her place.”

✦ in fiction we trust. love, celeste ˶ᵔ⤙ᵔ˶ so this fic is probably gonna be a long one [lmao oops] so i decided to split it into chapters. i’ve been wanting to explore some heavier themes for a while now [i promise, i kept it light], and this fic kind of became that space for me. despite the emotional grooming, infidelity, gaslighting, workplace sexism, and all that heavy stuff this fic touches on — one of the things i love most is that the reader has a genuinely healthy family. like actual supportive, emotionally present parents. and that’s something we don’t get to write often, so it means a lot to me. also the contrast between the two men… yeah. we’re gonna talk about that. and of course, we’ve got found family energy with the besties, so please look forward to their scenes too. also yes... i may or may not have written myself into the fic. yes it was intentional. yes i’m having fun with it 🤭

anyway that’s it for now. this fic went through a lot with me—emotionally and creatively—so i really hope you enjoy it and give it some love 🤍

ⓒ ! masterlist banner + dividers made by me. edits = google doc ss. photos from pinterest (ctto), prompt from my how do you fake it series ♡

started: dd.mm.yyyy — completed: dd.mm.yyyy

[beargyu313]

Heal my desire ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

This fic was heavily inspired by Riki’s mars placement (his whole tropical natal chart really)

⭑.ᐟ╰┈➤ Interpretation: He’s slow to act, but once he's sure, incredibly persistent.

˚.🎀༘⋆ Summary: Your younger brother Sunoo starts attending the same university as you. Along with him comes his childhood best friend Niki. Sparks begin flying between you two. Will you be able to keep your desire in check, or will it consume you instead?

ྀ. 𐙚 ̊ Word count: 12.7k

⋆˚࿔ Tags: fluff, slowburn-ish, eventual smut, brother’s best friend trope, older OC – younger Ni-ki,, smut tags: p in v, fem overstimulation, crying, ass eater Niki (he’s freaky), sexting, phone sex, slight praise kink, spanking, biting, chocking, obsessive sex, fem body worship

⋆˙♪ Playlist: emotional oranges – The Juice: vol. II (something about emotional oranges reminds me SO much of Riki)

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ A/N: first time I’ve written something of this length and emotional depth, feedback is appreciated<3 also planning a sunghoon fic next and I am open to hearing your reqs (it will most likely be an enemies to lovers)

You wouldn’t say going to university was the best thing that has happened to you – although it kind of was. As the oldest in your family, you never got to experience anything just for yourself, was never allowed to go anywhere without Sunoo tagging along.

It never really bothered you, at least until you came to uni. That was when you realized probably for the first time how freeing not looking after somebody actually was. For the first time in your life, you were allowed to put yourself first, not having to worry about anyone else. And it felt good.

You even got lucky with housing – getting an apartment close by your campus. You had your own bedroom and for the first two years a roommate as well. But since they graduated late, you were left with an empty room as the first semester started.

And in a way it was perfect. Because Sunoo got accepted into the same university as you, and since you didn’t currently have a roommate, it was simply assumed he would come to live with you.

You loved your younger brother, really you did. But somehow you couldn’t help but lowkey dislike the idea of him living with you. As soon as the thought hit you, you felt guilty, selfish. But as the day of his arrival grew closer, the feeling of resentment grew.

You couldn’t help it, even though you tried rationalizing with yourself – you lived with him before and it was okay, he was your brother! But at the same time, you hated how your parents just assumed he would come and live with you. Not even asking how you felt about it. And it brought up some deeply buried childhood feelings of forced passivity, of having to put other people before yourself.

The morning of his arrival was spent cleaning. Suddenly you noticed how much dust was sitting on the window frame, the overloaded kitchen counter and the dishes still in the skin.

It wasn’t like Sunoo would mind it or even notice it, but your mom would absolutely ask about it later on the phone, and you didn’t need another “You should set a good example” guilt trip on top of everything else.

By the time he rang the doorbell you were beyond frazzled. Exhausted. Still, you swallow down your feelings as you open the door. Trying to match Sunoo’s excitement.

“Noona!” he excitedly greets you, returning his hug you momentarily allow the familiar scent to calm you down.

“I missed you,” you honestly tell him. And that’s when you notice a tall figure entering behind Sunoo.

You do a double look as you realize who Sunoo brought with him. Niki walked in after Sunoo.

Very much not the same Niki you remembered.

He stepped through the doorway like he belonged there. His duffle bag slung over one shoulder, expression calm — even a little bored. And for a second, your brain couldn’t quite catch up.

Because it was Niki.

But taller. Leaner. Broader. Hair slightly longer. Clothes hanging off him in a way that made him look effortlessly cool. And suddenly you felt embarrassed for being in sweatpants, in your own home.

He met your eyes and — god help you — smiled. Not the gap-toothed, chipmunk-cheeked grin you remembered from middle school photos and summer sleepovers. This one was... different. A little crooked. Like he knew something you didn’t.

“Hey,” he said, voice low and smooth. “It’s been a while.”

It had. Too long, apparently.

Because somewhere in that space of a few years, Niki had evolved into the kind of guy that made your stomach do weird, panicked flips. And now he was standing in your apartment.

Like it was normal.

Like it was fine.

And it was fine, you remind yourself. Because this was the same Niki you’ve known practically your whole life. Same Niki who spent most of his summers over at your house, playing with Sunoo. Same Niki who would annoy you.

And just because he was hot, and not just hot but exactly your type kind of hot didn’t mean anything.

This was fine.

Forcing the sudden nervousness down, you beg yourself to speak like a normal person.

“Yeah, it has,” comes your stiff reply. But thankfully, Sunoo was great at smoothing over any initial awkwardness.

“You didn’t even clean up for us, huh? Love the hospitality, noona,” Sunoo teases.

“I did clean. Your face is just rude,” you scowl.

“Wow, the welcome committee is on fire today. Good thing I brought snacks. And Niki.”

“I told him not to announce me like I’m a prize he won,” Niki says, shrugging slightly, still looking at you. You gulp as you look away from him.

“Well. You do come with less mess than Sunoo, so… maybe a partial prize,” you speak, trying not to look at the way the black tank top hugged his waist, the low rise of his pants allowing his boxers to peek through.

“Okay, rude. You missed me,” Sunoo jabs back, used to your teasing.

“You were gone for three months, not three years,” you joke, even though you really did miss him.

“Nice place. Feels like you,” Niki steps past Sunoo, glancing around.

“…That’s either an insult or a compliment, and I’m too tired to ask.”

“Definitely a compliment,” he replies, the sincere tone making you momentarily pause.

“She’s blushing. Look at that. Niki, you broke her,” Sunoo laughs lightly, his eyes crinkling in what-would-be cute way if he wasn’t actively trying to annoy you.

“Shut up. Both of you,” you say, flustered. Leaving towards the kitchen.  

“Come on, I’m starving. Didn’t you say you’d make that pasta you used to do?” Sunoo asks as he follows behind you.

“I said no such thing.”

“You did cook, though. Smells good,” Niki comments.

“…It’s literally just pasta,” you say, hating the way he was making you feel. The overflow of compliments. His intense gaze. The way he looked so at home in your place.

“Still. I missed it.”

You try to brush off the flustered feeling his reply gives you. Cursing inwardly at his smoothness.

“You’re just trying to get on my good side,” you reply, desperate to stop this conversation.

“Am I succeeding?” Niki asks as he smiles down at you. That boyish smile, the kind that makes you shy.

“…You’re obnoxious,” you say as you lightly push him away. A small smile on your face.

“Okay, stop flirting, I’m begging. I can’t live with this already,” Sunoo interjects, and you can’t tell if he’s serious or just joking around. Because this was not happening with Niki. You wouldn’t allow it. And you doubt Sunoo would be this chill if he knew what was going through your head.

“You haven’t even unpacked yet and I already regret this,” sighing as you reveal your true feelings.

“Too late. You opened the door,” Niki smirks, and you’re reminded of the way you three used to joke around.  

“That’s not legally binding, you know,” you bite back with a smile.

“Pretty sure it is,” Niki says, wolfishly smiling down at you.

“So, pasta!” Sunoo interrupts.

And that’s how your first day with Sunoo as your roommate goes. Him and Niki spend the whole day in your apartment, asking you about anything and everything related to uni life. Which courses to take, which ones to avoid. About the extracurricular activities, the student-run café, even the annoying guy in the library who never returns his books on time.

Talking to both of them together was easy—too easy, actually. It reminded you of late summers and sleepovers and childhood in general, a time when everything felt both chaotic and safe.

For a moment, you even let your guard down, let yourself laugh like none of this bothered you. Like it didn’t throw your carefully built world off its axis to see Niki in your space, grown up and... confusing. You were sure that whatever weird feelings he brought up in you, was just because you hadn’t seen him for a long time, and the feeling would fade with time. It’s normal to be surprised when you see someone after a long time and they’ve grown up you convince yourself.

When they finally left to run errands and get their campus IDs sorted, you found yourself sitting in the quiet afterward, not quite sure what to do with yourself. There was pasta on the stove and two extra mugs in the sink. And a weird, fluttery feeling in your chest you pretended not to notice.

Later on in the evening when it’s just you and Sunoo, he brings Niki up.

“So. Be honest. Were you surprised?”

“About what?” you ask, genuinely not knowing what he’s alluding to.

Sunoo motions around as if it was the most obvious thing “Niki. I saw your face when he walked in. You looked like you’d seen a ghost. A tall, hot ghost.”

“I did not—shut up,” you lightly laugh as you deny.

But Sunoo’s quick wit catches on, “You’re not denying the ‘hot’ part, though.”

“Do you want me to poison your dinner next time or just salt it within an inch of its life?”

 “Knew you missed me,” Sunoo grins. He tosses the dishtowel onto the rack, clearly pleased with himself. You roll your eyes but your lips twitch.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

The next time you see Niki, you aren’t expecting it.

It was your senior-year elective—an advanced movement and performance theory class that counted as a hybrid arts credit. You'd signed up partly for fun, partly because the professor was lenient, and mostly because you thought it would have nothing to do with anyone in your major.

Which is why your brain short-circuited a little when you walked in and saw Niki. Already sitting. Already acting like he belonged there.

“You're in this class?” you ask, as you walk up to him, clutching your bookbag to your chest.

“Yeah. You said this professor was easy,” he shrugs, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I didn’t say that to you,” you say, as you take a seat next to him.

Niki shrugs, “Sunoo has a big mouth.”

“I thought you were undeclared,” you reply after a beat of silence.

“I am. But I needed an elective. And I like movement.”

“Since when?” your eyes narrow, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“Since always. You just never noticed,” says Niki softly, his eyes focused ahead of him. And if you didn’t know any better you would think he was uncomfortable by your questioning.

The classrooms buzz dies down as the professor steps to the podium. Mr. Park was probably in his late 30’s, at the latest in his mid 40’s. And the reason you like him was because he was very laid back, you also heard from your friends he never failed anyone and always had the same exam questions every year. Exactly the type of easy course you needed.

“Okay everyone, for the semester project you’ll be working in pairs. It’ll be a fusion-based piece—contemporary with any personal style you bring. We’ll workshop it every week. Final showcase is in December. Questions?” His voice booms, before murmurs start.

Oh no, it seems he changed his course this year. Just your luck.

You sense Niki leaning in and stubbornly refuse to look at him.

“You gonna ask or am I?” he quietly asks, his voice sounding even deeper once he’s this close to you.

“What?” you play dumb.

“You’re the only person I know here. And I’m not about to dance with some dude named Brett who wore tap shoes to a contemporary class.”

You side eye Niki, then glance at Brett quickly. You stifle your laugh when you notice his attire. Tap shoes and tights, seems someone was taking this class seriously.

You giggle as you look back at Niki, “Fine.”

“Knew you'd come around,” he smugly tells you. His face close enough that you can make out the moles o his face. And you know you’re fucked when your heart rate speeds up.

After the class ends you find yourself in the on-campus coffee shop. Sitting by the window as you passively scroll through your phone. Opening a text thread with your friend, you start typing.

you [7:04 PM] you will not believe who’s in my elective

bestie [7:04 PM] 👁️👄👁️ spill

you [7:05 PM] niki. as in sunoo’s childhood best friend niki as in awkward middle school sleepovers and cheetos w chopsticks niki as in... is hot now niki like. distressingly hot

bestie [7:06 PM] WAIT ??? TALL NIKI? LONG LEGS NIKI ?? I thought he vanished after that bowl cut era ???

you [7:06 PM] he did and then he reappeared like a final boss

bestie [7:06 PM] LMAOOO STOP wait how hot. scale of 1 to id ruin my life for him

you [7:07 PM] im already halfway to ruined he smelled like... clean laundry and sin also we’re dance partners now. for the entire semester 🙂🔫

bestie [7:08 PM] you’re done for. you’re LIVING THE YN LIFE

you [7:08 PM] no bc if sunoo finds out my soul will exit my body

bestie [7:09 PM] sunoo doesn’t need to know unless you two are messing around 👀

Your stomach swoops as you read the last message. Flustered you send the last messages as you get ready to head home.

you [7:09 PM] BLOCKED REPORTED IM GOING HOME

You return back to your apartment, the front door softly clicking shut behind you. Sunoo texted you he’ll be home later, some orientation thingy keeping him preoccupied. The apartment is bathed in the orange hues of the sunset and you savor in the stillness and peace.

You sink into the couch, the memory of Niki creeping unwantedly in your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, about his pretty smile, about his deep voice – seriously his voice used to be so high pitched, this new version of Niki was giving you a whiplash.

Still. I missed it

Your mind drifts back to your conversation, but before you could fully spiral, you pick up the remote to numb your mind with some stupid TV show. Forcing yourself to think away any thoughts of tall boys who smell nice.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

You’re already stretching when Niki walks into the dance studio practice room. His white hoodie sleeves pushed up, black hair still slightly damp from a quick shower. He tosses his bag down with practiced ease, giving you a nod and a small grin that makes your stomach do an unhelpful flip.

Niki slicks the hair out of his face, in a casual manner addressing you as he puts a snapback hat on.

"You came early. Planning to show me up?"

You smile at him as you watch him start stretching in front of you. His hoodie rising dangerously when he stretches his arms above his head.

"Somebody’s gotta carry this partnership."

 "Bold of you to assume it's not me," Niki smirks, watching you through the mirror.

You raise an eyebrow, but he just shrugs, dropping into a low stretch like he’s been doing this forever. You try not to stare, but he’s focused, surprisingly flexible. It’s hard not to notice how graceful his movements are. Like he knows exactly how much attention he’s drawing—and doesn’t care.

And that’s the part that gets you. His effortless nonchalance, it makes you feel as if he’s only halfway present with you, your mind wandering to dangerous thoughts of how you could make him fully focus on you.

The professor sent demo videos last night. You’d both agreed on All That Matters—partly because of the flowy R&B tempo, partly because neither of you wanted anything too theatrical.

You click play on the speaker, and Niki stands, holding a hand out toward you.

"Ready to stop pretending we don’t have chemistry?" he asks, his eyebrows slightly raised in an attractive manner.

You scoff, "Ready to focus, maybe," but let him pull you up anyway. His touch electrifying.

The first moves are slow — light footwork and mirrored movements. Easy to get through without contact. But then the bridge hits, and the choreography shifts.

He steps into your space without hesitation. A hand on your waist to turn you. You freeze, barely a second, but it’s enough for Niki to notice the shift. Quizzically looking at you in question.

"Sorry. Just… tired," you unconvincingly say, a slight shiver running down your spine where Niki’s hand rests.

He doesn’t push, but his hand lingers a moment too long. His intense gaze piercing right through you. As if he doesn’t believe you – but he doesn’t push it.

You move through the sequence again. This time, your hands brush. His palm slides against your lower back. You react less, but goosebumps appear on your arms. He notices that, too. And thankfully doesn’t comment on it.

You try to ration – you’re only being like this because you haven’t gotten laid in a long time. Definitely not because you find Niki insanely attractive.

When you pause to get water, you catch yourself watching him — really watching — the way his jaw clenches when he counts under his breath, the way his shirt rides up slightly when he stretches.

You look away fast. Hope he doesn’t notice.

But he does. Because unbeknownst to you he always noticed everything about you. Has been noticing, ever since you were kids. But he never made any moves on you, you never seemed interested before. Which worked, because he didn’t want to ruin his friendship with Sunoo by fucking things up with you.

It did make him wonder what changed for you, or was he only imagining things in his head. That’s why he doesn’t call you out, only walking past you with a quiet "Same time next week?"

"Yeah" you nod, your voice coming out more breathless and softer than you intend.

He gives you one last unreadable look. Then leaves.

And your brain won’t stop replaying the exact placement of his hand on your waist.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

On the weekend you are cooped up in your apartment with Sunoo and Niki. The later coming over with the intention of just hanging out with Sunoo. But once the evening sneaks up and he still isn’t ready to leave he finds himself in front of your shut bedroom door.

He ponders for a moment before softly knocking.

“Come in,” comes your muffled voice, and he opens the door. He doesn’t know what he expected your room to look like but somehow it’s very much you. A neatly made bed in the corner, white dresser and your desk. Where you were sitting right now.

You had little trinkets all over your room, a few plants on the window still. It made Niki feel cozy and warm, everything reminded him of you.

“Hey,” he greets, scratching his neck as he’s suddenly unsure of himself.

“Thought we could get an early start on our theoretical part of the project?” he asks you and that’s how you find yourself on the floor, knees brushing with Niki’s as you two do research on your laptop.

Niki’s quiet presence lulls you into a comfortable silence as you two work, his voice breaking you out of your concentration.  

“Still mad I showed up with Sunoo?” he softly asks, his voice hiding a certain tenderness, vulnerability.

“I was never mad. Just… surprised,” you tell him, your gaze still focused on your laptop screen.

He hums, “Sunoo said you weren’t thrilled. That you liked having the place to yourself.”

“It’s not that I don’t want him here. I just... finally got used to things being mine. My time. My space. It’s stupid,” you sigh.

“It’s not stupid.” A beat passes before he speaks again, “You’ve always looked out for him. For everyone, really.”

“Yeah. That’s kind of the problem,” you say, trying to joke but your voice sounding too somber even to your own ears.

You don’t know what you expected from Niki. You thought he’d be fun, maybe a little cocky. You didn’t expect… this. Didn’t expect him to look at you like he actually wants to know you. To listen. And most surprisingly, like he actually understood you.

A long silence stretches between you two, both deeply in your thoughts, before Niki breaks it again.

“…For what it’s worth, I’m not trying to mess that up. I can keep out of your way,” Niki tells you.

“…You don’t have to,” you softly tell him, finally meeting his eyes. And something in your chest tugs—painfully tender.

He really meant that. He’d leave if you asked.

He holds your gaze for a second longer, something unreadable in his expression. Then, slowly, he nods.

You look away first. Of course you do. Your throat’s too tight.

You both go back to your screens, pretending to work again. But something has shifted between you two.

A few minutes pass. And this time you’re the one who breaks the stretching silence.

“You’re not supposed to be this tolerable, you know.”

He huffs a laugh, “I get that a lot.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

In weeks that follow you and Niki fall into a routine. Joint dance practices between just the two of you every Thursday, and your dance class with everyone on Tuesdays.

It is a Tuesday currently, meaning the whole class is in session. Instead of a lecture hall you’re all in a dance studio today, your professor wanting to see how everyone is progressing.  

Class is coming to an end and you’re picking up your water bottle from the side of the room when you spot him.

Niki is standing near the mirrors, still in his dance clothes, grinning at something a classmate next to him says, Eunchae you think. She’s twirling a strand of hair around her finger, clearly enjoying the conversation.

He says something back—low and easy—and she laughs, a little too loud. He doesn’t even flinch. Just leans a little closer, one hand tucked into his hoodie pocket.

You tell yourself it’s nothing, as you unknowingly burn holes into the two of them.

It’s fine.

It’s whatever. It’s normal to be overprotective of Niki – you’ve known him for forever you rationalize.

You scroll through your phone like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world, trying not to look. But your ears are burning. Your face feels hot.

Your friend in this class – Daniela – appears beside you, watching you not-watch them.

“You okay?” she asks, eyebrow raised.

You scoff. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’re burning a hole in the back of Niki’s head,” she easily replies, glancing to look at him over her shoulder.

You wave her off, voice too breezy. “Please. She’s not even his type.”

Daniela stares. “You know his type?”

“I mean, obviously he goes for girls who—like—giggle like it’s a sport and wear matching yoga sets. He’s literally 19. He probably thinks lip gloss counts as a personality.”

Daniela blinks. “…Girl.”

You frown. “What?”

“You’re jealous,” she deadpans.

“No, I’m not,” you deny suspiciously fast.

“No, you definitely are.”

You scoff again, louder this time. “Okay, can we not? It’s Niki. He’s just—he’s a kid.”

Daniela doesn’t even dignify that with a response. She just gives you the look. The one that says You’re lying and we both know it.

You refuse to meet her eyes.

From across the room, Niki catches your gaze and gives you a little nod—like a casual hey, you good?

You roll your eyes and turn away, heart suddenly racing for no reason you’re willing to admit.

You’re still reeling later in your room. The day exhausted you more than it should. And it was barely 4 p.m. You wanted nothing more than to just lay down and not think or do anything for a little while. At least not until Niki comes over later in the evening, you two having made plans to go over theory together.

Your phone buzzes and you seriously contemplate ignoring the call, but relent once the caller calls you again when you fail to pick up the first time.

Incoming Call: Sunoo 🍊 it reads on the caller ID.

You sigh and answer.

“You better be dying,” you say, exhaustion creeping in your voice.

Sunoo doesn’t seem to notice as he brightly asks (read: expects) you to do him a favor;  “Not dying. Just forgot my charger and my USB. And since you’re the best sister in the world you would bring them over to me?”

You are already starting to stand up, before he even finishes speaking. “Remind me why I’m not charging you rent?”

Sunoo laughs at that, “Because you love me.”

“True,” you softly reply, leaving your apartment and heading all the way over to Sunoo. Just an almost 30 minute walk, no biggie for someone who’s already so tired of this day.

You’re back home, in under an hour. Hair windswept, limbs heavy, stomach sour from scarfing down cafeteria fries while speed-walking half a mile. Not wanting to leave Niki waiting, since you were currently almost running late.

You drop your bag onto the floor, letting out an exaggerated groan as you sink onto the carpet in your living room.

Niki is already seated there and he watches you with that unbothered little tilt to his head.

“Long day?” he asks gently.

You shoot him a look, but it lacks bite. “Understatement of the year.”

He scoots over, making space for your laptop, but doesn’t press. Just gives you space and waits.

You both work in silence for a few moments before you speak again.

“Sometimes I wonder if people only know how to need me,” your voice is quiet. Unraveling.

Niki looks up from his screen. Doesn’t interrupt.

You laugh, bitter. “Sunoo called me earlier because he forgot his charger and USB and somehow that meant I had to drop everything and bring it. Like I’m campus tech support or something.”

A beat passes and then words start pouring out of you. “It’s not just him. It’s everyone. Professors. Classmates. Family. I say yes before I even think about it. And then I hate myself for feeling resentful after,” you don’t realize you’re shaking a little until you feel Niki’s gaze on you. Grounding you back into this moment with him, where it’s just you two.

Then he says, calm as always “You’re allowed to want space.”

You blink. The words are so simple they shouldn’t make your chest ache the way they do. But they land like a soft punch.

“You always take care of everyone. I don’t think anyone’s ever asked if you needed it too,” Niki continues and you wonder when he became so …wise, so observant of you.

Silence. The kind that’s full, not empty.

You don’t cry. But you do go still. Like something inside you just… let go.

When you finally meet his eyes, he’s already looking at you. Like he’s been looking this whole time.

“…Thanks,” you say, barely audible. “For seeing that. For not making me explain it.”

He just gives a quiet little nod. No smile. Just that same steady presence. Like he’s saying I’ve got you. Even if you don’t ask.

Your knee brushes his. And Niki wraps an arm around your shoulder pulling you close to him. You don’t flinch away this time – instead allowing yourself to soak in this moment.

It is only after you’ve let out a long exhale that you pull away.

“We should get back to this,” you say and miss the look Niki shoots in your direction.

You don’t allow yourself to dwell on this moment. No, instead you drown yourself in school work in the following days.

You're walking across campus with Daniela. The air smells like warm pavement and coffee—students are sprawled on lawns, music drifting from a Bluetooth speaker somewhere nearby.

You clutch your iced drink a little tighter as you talk, like that’ll cool the heat pooling low in your stomach from thoughts you’re not supposed to be having.

Daniela nudges you gently with her elbow. “So… what’s going on with you and your brother’s hot friend?”

You snort. “Nothing’s going on.”

She gives you a look.

You take a long sip, buying yourself a second. “I mean, even if I liked him—which I don’t—I wouldn’t do anything. He’s younger. And Sunoo’s best friend.”

Daniela slows her steps. “That’s your reason?”

“It would just… complicate things,” you say, waving your hand like you’re brushing it off. “He’s literally nineteen, Dani.”

“What, and you’ve suddenly become eighty?”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Daniela looks at you for a beat, the kind of look that says okay, but you’re lying to yourself and I’m letting you. “Whatever you say.”

You don’t see him—Niki, standing behind the open glass door of the student lounge just off the path. He was on his way out. Until he heard your voice.

He doesn’t move. Just stands there, frozen.

The words Even if I liked him—which I don’t keep echoing in his ears. Over and over.

He doesn’t say anything.

He just leaves.

And you… never even knew he was there. You and Daniela reach the classroom taking a seat just before the professor arrives.

You’re confused as you look for Niki, he was never late. And yet, he steps through the door 20 minutes later and you move your stuff from the seat you were saving for him. Flabbergasted you watch him as he straight up ignores you, sitting somewhere else instead.

Weird. He always sat with you, but maybe he just didn’t see you…

The lesson was probably the most boring one so far, with you being used to talking through them with Niki. But now as you sit by yourself you find yourself staring at him.

He returns your gaze and there's a flicker of something you can’t read. Something almost guarded. But you’re probably just imagining it, he’s probably just tired or something.

The next day you receive a message from him, saying he can’t come over, because something came up. You don’t push it, but you can’t deny the pang of hurt that shoots through you, doubt setting in.

It doesn’t help when a couple of days later Sunoo mentions in passing, “has Niki’s been weird? You guys good? He hasn’t really talked about the project much.”

And you shrug it off, but you can feel that something is off, that he’s distancing himself from you. So you give him space. To cool off, for whatever it is you might have done.

Until you can’t take it anymore.

It happens when you two meet in the practice room. And Niki’s so obviously acting different. He doesn’t joke. Doesn’t tease. Keeps distance physically.

You don’t look at him when you walk to the center of the room. You don’t have to—you can feel the tension in the space between you already.

The choreo isn’t easy. It’s intimate, breathless, full of weight shifts and skin contact. The kind of dance that demands vulnerability, trust, proximity.

But Niki barely says a word.

He mirrors your movements with precision, his body effortlessly falling into rhythm with yours. He doesn’t look at you—but when his hand finds your waist during a partnered lift, you feel it linger a fraction too long.

His fingers accidentally slip under your shirt when he lifts you up. You shiver. Not from cold, but from how badly you wish you didn’t care.

You’re breathless for reasons that have nothing to do with exertion.

Still, something’s off. You’re off.

You mess up a foot placement during a turn. Miss the beat on a drop. And worst of all—you flinch when he touches you again.

That’s when he finally speaks.

Low voice. Quiet, but firm.

“You always think too much.”

You blink, startled.

He steps a little closer—close enough to feel the heat of his skin, but still not touching you. Not really.

“You dance better when you stop trying to be perfect.”

You meet his eyes for the first time in what feels like days—and he doesn’t look away.

Something in your stomach flips. The version of him you’ve been trying not to miss is right there. Not teasing, not cold—but unreadable, unreachable.

Strong. Steady. Saying things that cut a little too close.

You open your mouth to respond, but he steps back.

And just like that, his walls go up again.

You ask, in a snappier tone than you intend to.

“Did I do something?”

But Niki shrugs.

“No,” he says, not meeting your eyes.

You hate it, hate this, wish he would just go back to the way he was. The lingering touches, sneaking glances at you, making you laugh.

You miss him even if he is right next to you. Somehow it would’ve been better, you bitterly think, if you two fought – not whatever this was, you couldn’t stand it.

You force a small smile, trying again.

“Seriously, though. You’ve been weird since…” you pause, searching his face “…is it because of something I did?”

Niki shrugs again, and you want to scream when he hits you with another “no,” still avoiding your gaze.  

“You sure? Because it kind of feels like I did,” you quietly say.

“It’s nothing. We should focus,” finally meeting your eyes, but his voice sounded flat, devoid of the usual warmth.

You nod, but the air between you two is tense. Silence cracks around the edges every time you try to fill it.

Later – after practice is over and you’re back home – you’re walking from the kitchen to your room, Sunoo’s voice echoes from the kitchen, playful but pointed.

“By the way, Eunchae said you and Niki make a cute team,” he wiggles his eyebrows playfully, “she was definitely fishing if he’s single, just saying.”

You half laugh, but it feels hollow to your own ears.

“Oh yeah? Let her shoot her shot, I guess,” you say it casually — but something tightens in your chest.

You close the door of your bedroom and pull your knees to your chest, sitting on the bed. Your room dim.

Why did it feel like you lost something you never even had?

You don’t know it but Niki is standing in the hallway just outside your apartment door, earphones in but not playing any music.

His face unreadable. Except for the way his jaw is tight. And the way he closes his eyes like he’s trying not to care.

But he can’t get the imagine of the longing in your eyes every time you looked at him. The way your eyes would narrow anytime Eunchae came up to him.

And that’s when it hits him you’re not rejecting him — you’re rejecting the idea of them.  Suddenly the realizations don’t stop.

I make her nervous. She feels something. She’s lying to herself.

Let me remind her what it feels like when I’m close.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

It’s class break and you’remid-convo with Daniela, laughing at something dumb. When you look across the classroom, Niki is standing by the door with Eunchae. He's listening politely, nodding at whatever she's saying—but he's not really with her.

His eyes are already on you.

Not staring. Not smirking. Just... watching. Still. Unapologetic. Like he’s reading a language only you speak.

You blink, unsettled.

He doesn’t look away.

Then, Daniela touches your arm, affectively breaking the moment.

After class ends, you brush past him on your way to the bathroom. It’s a tight hallway. You’re not even sure he’s going to acknowledge you, because he’s been like this—off. Too cool. Too quiet.

But then his hand brushes the small of your back as you pass. Not a tease. Not a game.

A claim.

You freeze for half a second, breath caught. Look over your shoulder— but he's already walking away.

You come out of the bathroom, scrolling through your phone as you wait for Sunoo, arms folded, head buzzing from the tension.

Niki appears beside you, “hey.”

“I didn’t think you’d say hi today,” you mutter, trying not to sound bothered.

He shrugs. “Didn’t think you wanted me to.”

You smile, faint. “You always let people decide that for you?”

He lets out the smallest laugh. “No. Just you.”

Your heart stutters. But you don’t look away.

He pushes off the wall and steps closer—slow, easy. Like he’s giving you time to move if you want to.

You don’t.

“I know what you’ve been telling yourself,” he says, eyes not leaving yours.

“That I’m too close. That it’s messy. That it wouldn’t work.”

You lift your chin slightly. “And?”

“And…” His voice softens, “…you keep looking at me like you want it to.”

You don’t answer right away. You feel it, that shift in the air—how close you both are to crossing whatever line you’ve drawn.

You study him. The way he’s not pushing, not assuming. Just waiting.

Quietly certain.

So you say it, “You think I don’t want this?” Your voice is soft, but sure. Steady.

His expression flickers—just a little.

You take a small breath. “I do.”

Another pause, “I just… I didn’t know if I should.”

He exhales, almost like he’s been holding it in. His hand grazes the back of his neck, a flicker of nervousness showing through.

“I don’t want to mess this up,” you add. And you mean it. “Not with you.”

For a moment, everything’s still. Then he says it—quiet and careful “Then don’t. Just let it happen.”

The corners of your mouth lift, despite yourself.

“Just once?” you ask, teasing lightly—but there’s sincerity in your eyes.

He grins, the first real one today, and it does something to you.

“Start with that,” he says.

You nod. Almost imperceptibly. But he sees it.

That night, your phone buzzes.

 Kii<3 [10:25 PM]

Pick you up Friday?

 You [10:27 PM]

Yeah.

You stare at your screen a beat longer than necessary. The tiny word — yeah — feels too small for what’s unraveling in your chest.

Because now it’s real. This thing between you. Not hypothetical, not flirtation buffered by excuses or safe distance. A real date. With Niki.

You press your phone to your chest and lie back, heart wild beneath your ribs. You’re nervous — obviously — but not in a way that makes you want to pull back. It's the kind of nervous that comes with possibility. The kind that reminds you you're alive. And beneath it, something warmer hums: excitement.

You can’t believe this is happening. That he wants this. That you said yes. That after all the circling and second-guessing, this is where you landed.

It’s terrifying. It’s dizzying. And it’s so much better than anything you ever let yourself hope for.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Friday evening.

You almost cancel.

You open your wardrobe, stare at your reflection, then close it again. Twice. Your hands hover over your phone more than once, thumb twitching toward his contact.

But then you force yourself to pull it together, deciding on a low crop top and a black skirt.

He’s already waiting when you step outside — parked just at the curb, leaning against the passenger side of his car. Streetlight catching on the edges of his hair, hands in the pockets of a jacket you’ve seen him wear a thousand times but never like this.

He straightens the second he sees you. Not obvious, but enough. His gaze trails down, slow — not in a possessive way, but reverent. Like he’s genuinely trying to commit this version of you to memory.

You’re suddenly warm everywhere.

“Hey,” he says, and his voice is too casual for how intensely he’s looking at you.

You arch a brow. “You’re staring.”

He doesn’t flinch. “Yeah. So are you.”

You can’t help the laugh that slips out, nerves tangled in it. “Don’t start already.”

He opens the car door for you, dipping his head close as you slide in. “Can’t help it,” he murmurs, low. “I’ve been waiting to look at you like this.”

Your breath stumbles. You don’t answer—just smile, tucking it into the warmth.

The drive is quiet in the most perfect way. His car smells faintly like him—clean, a little musky, like cedar and laundry and something unmistakably his. A soft R&B playlist drifts through the speakers.

You sneak looks at him when you think he’s not paying attention. His hand on the gearshift. The subtle way his jaw flexes when he focuses on the road. His thumb tapping along to the beat.

He catches you once, glancing over with the ghost of a smile.

“You look really pretty,” he says, almost shy. It’s not the kind of compliment that’s thrown out for effect. It lands warm, soft.

You laugh, nerves bubbling out. “You’re not too bad either.”

He grins. “Had to. Big night.”

By the time you reach the rooftop bar, the sky’s already in a blue-lavender stretch before night truly falls. Warm lights hang overhead, swaying gently. The music’s changed to something jazzy and slow, but it fits—like the world decided to match your pacing.

You’re seated in a quiet corner, the city stretching far beneath. He doesn’t look at the menu before ordering for you—he just knows.

Your drink arrives exactly the way you like it.

And when you ask, teasing, “You just memorize everyone’s drink order?”

He leans in slightly, resting his chin on his hand. “Only yours.”

You’re already laughing, cheeks flushed, the world softening at the edges.

His fingers brush yours. It’s not accidental. It’s intentional. A question he doesn’t ask out loud.

You don’t pull away.

There’s a little silence before you tease, “What, you stalking my habits now?”

“I’m cataloguing the things that make you smile,” he replies without missing a beat.

And you do smile. You try not to, but you do. It bubbles up before you can stop it. And that just makes him grin wider.

“Stop,” you say, hiding behind your cup.

“You’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“You are.” He leans on his elbow, chin in his hand. “You always do that when you like something but don’t wanna admit it.”

“Now you’re making things up.”

“Now you’re avoiding the fact that you like me.”

You meet his eyes. And for a second, neither of you laughs. It lands deeper than it should. Like the words found a door you didn’t mean to leave cracked open.

You don’t say anything. Not yet. But your silence is a different kind now—not pulling away, just… caught.

And he doesn’t push. He just lets it be, the way he always seems to know how to.

You leave the bar after you two finish your drinks. The warm air inviting you on a walk. The city buzzes around you — soft traffic, neon flickers, the low hum of people living their lives — but you don’t really hear any of it. Not when you’re standing close enough to bump shoulders and not bother stepping away.

He reaches for his phone. “Smile.”

You do. Without thinking.

He takes a picture. You try to grab his phone to see it, laughing, but he slips it back into his jacket.

“Let me see!”

He shakes his head. “Not posting it.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s just for me.”

You go quiet. Something in your stomach flips.

You stop under a streetlamp.

The light catches on his cheekbones, soft gold spilling over his lashes, his mouth, his collarbones peeking through the neck of his sweatshirt. He looks like something out of a dream. Which is annoying, because dreams aren’t supposed to smirk at you like that.

You cross your arms, partly to brace yourself. Partly because your heart won’t chill out.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, trying to sound unaffected.

Niki tilts his head, slow. “Like what?”

“Like you know something I don’t.”

“I do,” he says, easy. “I know how good you look under this light.”

You roll your eyes. But you're smiling now, and he sees it. He always does.

“You’re not slick, Niki.”

“I don’t have to be,” he says, and damn it, that grin should be illegal.

Your chest is tight in a way that’s too much and just right. You step in without realizing, close enough that chest touch. He holds onto your wait. You glance up—and he’s already watching you.

Not in that heavy, intense way he sometimes does. It’s softer now. But still locked in. Like he’s trying not to blink.

“This is weird,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “In a good way. I just… didn’t think this would ever actually happen.”

He leans in just a bit, voice low but warm. “Been thinking about it for weeks.”

“You’re such a simp.”

“Only for you,” he says, and there’s zero hesitation in it.

It knocks the breath right out of you.

He holds your gaze for one long, humming second. You can feel the tension hovering between your mouths like a question waiting to be asked.

“If I kiss you right now,” he says, voice barely above the buzz of the city, “you gonna regret it?”

You shake your head. A little too fast.

“Good.”

And then he leans in.

You don’t even realize you’ve stopped breathing until he closes the last inch between you.

His hand finds your waist. Yours tangle in the front of his hoodie. And then—

He kisses you.

Not soft. Not tentative.

It’s hungry. Like he’s been holding back for weeks and the dam just cracked wide open. His mouth moves over yours like he’s trying to make sense of it, memorize it, own it. And you kiss him back just as fiercely—hands fisting in the fabric at his chest, pulling him closer, chasing the taste of him like it might undo you.

It’s too much. Not enough. Your thoughts dissolve. You don’t know where his breath ends and yours begins. The world’s gone blurry around the edges.

You gasp into his mouth when his fingers slide up, brushing your jaw, anchoring you there like he needs you solid in his hands. Like this isn’t real unless he’s touching you.

He groans—quiet, but guttural—and the sound shoots straight down, between your thighs.

You break apart just long enough to suck in air, both of you breathing like you just ran a mile.

His forehead tips to yours.

“Fuck,” he whispers, voice wrecked and still out of breath. “We have to stop.”

You blink, still tasting him on your lips, dazed. “What?”

He shakes his head, eyes still closed. Like he’s fighting himself. His hands gripping your hips tightly.

“We have to stop. Or I’m not gonna be able to.”

You feel it in your knees. In your stomach. In everywhere.

He pulls back a fraction, gaze finding yours. His hands don’t leave your body, but they don’t wander either. Just… steady. Present. Hot with restraint.

“This isn’t how I want to do this,” he says, low. “Not like this. Not in a rush. You deserve better than that.”

You exhale shakily. He’s right. You hate that he’s right. And you love that he cares enough to be right.

Still, it takes you a second to find your voice.

“So what now?”

His thumb brushes your cheek. “Now I walk you to the car.”

He smiles. Kind of breathless. Kind of wrecked. Like you just rewired something in him.

“And then I go home and try really hard not to think about how good you taste.”

You grin, heart thudding. “You’re not gonna succeed.”

He raises a brow. “Not even a little.”

And this time, when you link your fingers with his, it’s easy. His larger hand engulfing yours. His shoulder keeps bumping into yours as you walk, and by the time you reach his car you’re safely tucked under his arm. Your torso to his side. And for the first time in a long time you feel alive.

You’re still on the buzz as you get ready for bed. Too lazy before to take off your makeup and change out of your clothes. Just as you’re about to head into the bathroom your phone pings and a grin unknowingly stretches over your face.

You bit your lip, trying to contain the quickly awakening tingles between your legs, as you read over Niki’s message. The memory of his lips on yours, his hands all over you replaying through your mind.

Kii<3 [11:12 PM] you still wearing that skirt from tonight?

You [11:13 PM] Yeah,, want a little preview

Kii<3 [11:14 PM] fuck yes don’t keep me waiting

You stand in front of the mirror, twirling as you try to find a pretty angle. You settle on you looking over your shoulder into the mirror, your hip popped in a way that accentuates your butt.

You [11:15 PM] Like it?

You ask after you watch his message bubble appear and disappear.

Kii<3 [11:16 PM] damn you’re unreal

im switching the phone to my left hand

You [11:17 PM] wait till you see what comes next

You giddly type, sitting on your bed – legs straddling the duvet underneath you as you eye one of your decorative pillows.

Kii<3 [11:18 PM] im ready. What’re you doing right now?

You [11:19 PM] sitting on my bed, got a pillow nearby…

Kii<3 [11:20 PM] want you to straddle it

You gulp when you read his text, already adjusting your position as you  listen to his instructions. You can feel your underwear already sticking to you as you shift over the pillow. You gasp as you sit on the pillow, the wetness uncomfortable where it touches your skin.

You [11:21 PM] you’re crazyyy,, want me to take my panties off?

Kii<3 [11:21 PM] fuck yes

Your pussy clenches at his eager response. Imagining him in his own room, dick in his hand. You’re quick to move. Standing up you slide the panties down your legs, throwing them in the corner of your room. You contemplate taking off your skirt when you read the next message.

Kii<3 [11:22 PM]

show me everything, im so hard rn

You [11:23 PM] you like it? Decided to keep the skirt on..

but I don’t mind taking it off for you

You type, the photo you sent taken from an angle above. Your skirt is bunched at your waist, the fluffy pillow under you glaringly obvious. One of your hands is playfully pinching a nipple between your fingers, your bottom lip caught between your teeth. Your eyes are half lidded, cheeks covered in a natural blush.

Kii<3 [11:24 PM] baby you’ve got me losing it over here

You [11:25 PM] Good. That’s exactly the plan

lemme see u too

You send and regret it almost immediately when you see his reply. Niki with his hoodie pulled up, covering his hair. His eyes incredibly dark, barely in the frame. At the center of the photo is his hand, rings covering his fingers. But that’s not where your focus lies.

You stare at his leaking cock. Standing proud as he holds it in his hand, veins visible as the slick of his pre-cum shines on every detail of his cock.

Before you even realize it, you’re moving on your pillow. You’re desperate to reach your release, so much so that you don’t reply to his photo.

Your ringing phone breaks you out of your humping and you momentarily pause your ministrations as you pick up.

“Liked it that much baby?” Niki teases you, his deep voice making your stomach swoop and pussy clench around nothing.

You whine, adjusting the corner of the pillow right under your entrance.

“You have no idea,” you rasp, “I’m gonna finger myself, the pillow isn’t really doing it for me.”

“Figured,” he replies, voice strained and muffled, “next time I’ll be the one doing that.”

“Yeah Niki? Wanted your fingers tonight,” you breathe, trying to keep it down – you didn’t want Sunoo to hear you.

“Fuck princess, I wanted it too, wanted to fuck you in my backseat, not caring who sees us,” Niki eggs you on.

And the image of you and Niki in his backseat. You straddling him and his hands all over you has you reaching your climax.

You moan, louder than you realize, “next time, ‘kay?”

“Next time what, use your words,” Niki gruffs and you hear shuffling in the background.

“Fuck me next time we see each other,” you gasp.

“Please,” you whine into the phone, “fuck fuck fuck, I’m close Niki. Are you close too?”

Your pretty noises make Niki furiously tug on his cock, you hear a small curse and then nothing.

After a beat Niki speaks, his voice breathless “next time, princess. I promise.”

Your phone call ends shortly after but no matter how many more times you make yourself cum that night it’s not enough. It doesn’t satisfy the ache you feel any time you try to stop touching yourself.

Frustrated you force yourself to try and sleep it off. When morning comes you’re a mess. Barely slept.

It’s not until Monday when you see Niki again – one of his family members had their birthday and hence he was absent over the weekend.

You see him before he sees you.

Just for a second—tall, hood up, bag slung low—his gaze flicking through the crowd. The second your eyes meet, something shifts. It’s subtle, but it knocks the breath right out of your lungs.

You thought texting would be enough. It wasn’t. Not even close.

Now here he is, in the middle of a bustling hallway—shoulders tense, mouth parted like he’s about to say something, but you both already know there’s no time. Your next class starts in three minutes, and someone’s already calling your name.

He doesn’t stop walking. Neither do you. But as you pass each other, your hands brush, and your bodies lean in just enough to feel the heat crackle between you.

You barely glance up, but you feel it—his eyes, dragging down the side of your face, to your mouth, to the line of your collar. And for a second you swear he’s about to grab your wrist and pull you somewhere you can’t be seen.

But he doesn’t.

Because right then, someone falls into step beside you, Sunghoon—a guy from class, talking about a group project. You murmur something polite, eyes still locked with Niki’s across the hallway.

You see it hit him. The flash of irritation. The stiff set of his jaw. His pace slows just a fraction, like his body won’t let him leave it alone.

You feel it too—the ache, the itch under your skin that hasn’t gone away since Friday night. Like your body knows it’s his you’re still wanting.

You don’t say a word. You just keep walking.

But you know exactly where this is going.

And so does he.

Just a few minutes before the class ends you pull the phone out of your bag, suppressing a smile as you see a text from Niki.

Kii<3 [1:32 PM] who’s the guy

you [2:39 PM] chill 😭 just sunghoon from my seminar we’re in a group project together

Kii<3 [2:39 PM] and you had to smile at him like that?

You roll your eyes at his dramatics as you write your reply. Holding your phone under the desk so the professor doesn’t see you texting.

you [2:40 PM] you’re ridiculous 😭 it wasn’t even like that also you literally walked past me and didn’t say shit

Kii<3 [2:41 PM] i was one second away from grabbing you right there in the hallway but i didn’t want to start a scandal

You clench your thighs together as your imagination goes wild. You two would definitely be trying it, in the near future.

you [2:41 PM] oh so you do have some self-control color me shocked

Kii<3 [2:42 PM] barely meet me after class we need to talk

you [2:42 PM] “talk”? 👀 should i be scared or excited

Kii<3 [2:43 PM] yes. ill be outside your building don’t make me wait

you [2:44 PM] i wouldn’t dare

Kii<3 is typing... Kii<3 [2:46 PM] better not bc the second we’re alone im making you forget his name

You’re only half surprised when you step out of the class 14 minutes later to see Niki waiting for you. The hallway outside your lecture room buzzes with students, the air heavy with end-of-day chatter and the scrape of sneakers. You step out mid-convo with Sunghoon, who’s animated about some shared group project, gesturing with his hands. You’re smiling, but not really at him.

Then your eyes lock with Niki.

He’s leaning against the wall a few feet away, arms crossed, expression unreadable — until it’s not. His eyes drop to your mouth. Then drag over your legs. His jaw flexes like he’s biting back something unholy.

You slow your steps.

He doesn’t move.

You pass him anyway, because you’re petty, and you like the way his stare burns into your back.

“That guy talks a lot,” Niki leans down to whisper in your ear. His voice low, hand lightly touching your waist. Possessively.

You stop walking. Sunghoon keeps going, oblivious. You turn halfway, just enough to give Niki a look over your shoulder.

“Jealous?” you ask, smirking.

Niki steps fully into your personal space, pulling you into him by your waist, “no.”

His voice drops and the words leaving his mind make you freeze.

“I’m hard.”

You blink. A breath catches in your throat. Your stomach flips so hard it almost knocks the air out of you.

“Here? Really?” you ask, voice airy and breathless.

Niki leans in, grinning against your cheek “do you even realize how you look when you walk out of class like that?”

His fingers ghost over your wrist, featherlight. And goosebumps appear where his touch leaves.

“All I could think about was bending you over one of those desks.”

You don’t even have a witty comeback. Just heat — pooling low in your belly, throbbing between your legs.

“I have fifteen minutes,” you tell him, already so needy for him. 

“That’s adorable. I need hours,” Niki teases you.

He glances toward the doors, then back at you, voice gravel “meet me at yours. I’m not gonna wait another fucking day.”

You don’t attend any of your next classes, instead you leave immediately.

The second your apartment door clicks shut, his mouth is on you. Your bag hits the floor. His hands are under your shirt, your fingers already tugging at his hoodie.

You gasp into his mouth when he lifts you — one hand under your thigh, the other gripping your waist like he needs you closer, deeper, now. He walks you backward until your spine hits the wall and your legs wrap around him automatically.

“Don’t tease,” you pant.

“I’m not in the mood to tease, pretty,” Niki darkly grins at you, his voice doing things to you.

The kiss is frantic. Teeth. Tongue. Groaning into each other’s mouths like you’re trying to crawl inside one another. Your skirt rides up fast, and you let it, let his hands explore every inch like they’re claiming you.

“Take it off. Take all of it off,” you moan against his jaw, kissing down his neck when his hands start pulling on your clothes.

Niki shakes his head a no, “do it for me,” he tells you as he leads you into your bedroom.

Clothes disappear — shirt tugged over his head, buttons popping open, Niki’s hands all over you. He lifts you up as he carries you to your bed, dropping you with a thud and following you down like he’s starving.

The air smells like skin and sweat and him — clean and warm and dizzying.

“You’ve got no idea what you do to me,” Niki says as he hovers over you, his voice thick.

“Show me,” you say as you pull him in.

And he does. Niki kisses down your neck, his big hands on your tits. He’s going lower as he continues kissing you, listening to your gasps and small moans.

Niki pinches your nipple between his fingers, his mouth on your other boob. You moan, back arching off the bed. Your fingers tangle themselves in Niki’s hair as you pull him closer to you.

Your legs wrap around his torso, but Niki is already moving.

“Turn around,” he tells you, unashamedly palming himself through his boxers as his dark eyes drink you in.

You comply, laying on your stomach. Niki grabs you by your hips as he manhandles you on your knees, your front still on the bed.

You gasp when you feel his hands on your ass, gripping and kneading your cheeks.

“Baby please let me taste you,” Niki whines, his hands exploring everywhere from your ass to your inner thighs. He still hasn’t touched your pussy but you’re growing desperate as you push your ass close to his face.

Your mind is fuzzy as Niki traces his fingernails on the inside of your thigh, you shiver moaning before he even touches you where you most need him.

You can feel his breath on your slit, moaning as you push your ass in his face barely able to feel his lips on you.

Niki sees your struggle as he reaches for the pillow, resting it under your hips.

He murmurs against your skin “every inch of you drags me crazy, you know that?”

He lightly bites your ass, slapping it when you whine.

“Niki, need you,” you whine and gasp when you feel his mouth on you. His flattened tongue covers your slit and you push yourself into the warmth.

“oh god yes,” you breathe but pause once his hands grip your ass cheeks apart and he licks a long stripe from your slit, over your hole and stops at your asshole.

Your eyes widen when his tongue traces your puckered hole.

“what are you doing?” you ask as a pleasurable sensation you’ve never experienced before spreads through you.

Your pussy clenches when Niki lowly replies, “trust me,” and continues licking all over you.

“Taste so good,” comes his gruffy voice, he spits on the puckered hole, spreading the saliva with his middle finger.

you’ve never had someone play with your ass and while the sensation was new to you, it was also oddly pleasurable, your pussy pulsating as the pleasure is just enough to keep you at bay. But not enough at the same time.

Niki’s finger traces your hole, his other hand sneaking into your pussy entrance. You can feel yourself throb, the pleasure overwhelming.

Tears fill your eyes as Niki continues licking over your puckered hole, his middle and ring finger fingering your pussy in a hook motion.

You’re a moaning mess as you grip your sheets, legs spread as far as they can comfortably be. Loud licking sounds are covered by your squelching pussy and moans.

“Niki, I’m close,” you breathe, “please please please,” you whine, as tears build in your eyes. Enough to make your eyes glassy and makeup smudged but not enough to spill over on your cheeks.

“I like it when you’re like this,” he tells between licks, his fingers picking a slower and harder rhythm that has you seeing stars, his voice quiet and dark.

“oh my god, don’t stop talking,” you further plead, his voice driving you crazy. 

“Only if you keep telling me how good you’re feeling,” he says as his nails sink into the skin where your butt and thighs meet.

“Feels so good Ki, you’re so good, please, don’t stop, plea-“ you mewl, only to stop breathing as the pleasure almost tips over. Niki feels your pulsating walls, knows you’re about to cum and he pulls back.

You whine, turning around, only to see Niki’s intense gaze on your ass, watching as your butt winks at him.

“You’re so hot baby,” he tells you and it’s enough to have you close again. His eyes travel up your body and you shiver under his gaze.

“Turn around,” he instructs with a light pat on your hip, his eyes not leaving yours.

You comply, laying on your back now and Niki hovers over you. His hand under your jaw as he tries to read your emotions.

“Pretty,” he breathes, “are you gonna cry for me?” he mocks, his lips in a fake pout. He kisses you softly on your lips one hand still holding your chin. His other grips your hair in a pleasurable pull and you moan, relaxing into him fully.

“See that,” Niki asks, buckling his hips into yours. You don’t realize when he took his boxers off but don’t complain once you look down.

His cockhead wet and inviting, dick standing red and proud as Niki ruts his hips into yours.

“You like dragging it out, don’t you? Making me watch while I fall apart for you,” you complain. He just smirks at you as he lines his dick over your pussy. Your lips are hugging him and you hear him curse in a whisper, his voice strained.

“You don’t even know how hot you look under me—fuck,” he shudders, closing his eyes tightly and resting his head on yours. You wrap your arms under his arms pulling him fully on top of you.

But Niki doesn’t let you, “I’m too heavy, don’t wanna hurt you,” he says.

“Then just fuck me already Niki,” you say your lip caught between your teeth.

“Hands above your head. Don’t move. I want to take my time ruining you,” he decides and he watches the way your tits bounce when you move. He lightly slaps one of them and teases his cockhead over your clit.

You’re barely breathing, as the anticipation overtakes you.

“Yes, please Niki just put it in already, I’ll listen to whatever you say, just pleeeease,” you whine.

You both groan once his cockhead pushes past your entrance, your walls are still pulsating and you swear you’re close to cumming and he hasn’t even entered you fully.

Niki seems to be going through the same dilemma, his brows furrowed, eyes closed as he sucks his breath in.

“F-fuck,” he growls, holding onto your hands that are still bent above your head in compliance.

His frame covers yours as he slowly continues bullying his dick into you.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he comments, “keep looking at me so innocently baby and I’ll be busting into you before I even fuck you.”

You whine, pushing your tits up in a silent plead. Your walls wrap around his length so tightly that you swear you can feel him deeper than he even is.

You look down and see only half of him has entered you. Niki pushes further in and you feel so full you can’t focus on anything else.

One of his hands leave yours, trailing down your forearm, to your shoulders and stopping once it wraps around your throat.

“Be good,” he tells you before he pulls out slowly, pushing back in with force.

“So tight,” Niki shudders. You wrap both of your hands over his arm that’s still holding you in place by your throat, gasping in pleasure at the slow and steady, rough pace he set.

Your mouth is open in pleasure, no sound leaving as you watch Niki fucking you. His eyes are everywhere on you, with his free hand he pushes your one of your thighs up and you’re squished.

Feeling so full you close your eyes in pleasure, the new angle has you clutching your toes and no sound escapes your mouth as you drown in pleasure.

Niki sees you and you can feel his dick throb in you, he picks his pace up and it has you seeing stars.

A loud moan slips out, Niki’s hand leaving your neck as he works over your clit. You’re a moaning mess, as Niki plays with you however he pleases.

“Fuck baby, you’re so hot,” he breathes and you feel tears spill down your cheeks as you get lost in pleasure.

His dick is pushing into you, fingers on your clit and you still. Not breathing as your hands claw at his back.

You’re cumming and Niki curses. He sheats his dick inside of you, your tight walls holding him hostage.

Your rigidness forces him to stay inside when his balls twitch. He quietly groans, his voice hoarse as you feel warmth in you.

You’re so overwhelmed by Niki, by the pleasure still hitting you in small waves so you can only lay back and watch Niki as he pulls out.

His cheeks and chest flushed in blush and arms pumped. You watch as his dicks softens, his chest rising in deep breathes.

“Let me ride you Niki,” you ask, his whole demeanor turning you on once again.

“What?” he breathes, letting you push him on the bed and straddle him.

His cum trickles down your thigh once you sit up, but you don’t care, moving to straddle him.

“Just let me,” you tell him, he hisses when you touch his dick but it’s already starting to harden under your fingers.

You pump him once, twice and deem it good enough, hovering over it.

You push it in and listen as Niki whines under you, actually whines. The sound travelling straight to your pussy.

“W-wait, baby wait,” he pleads but you don’t listen. His hands are gripping your hips in a bruising grasp.

“You're so obsessed with me," you moan when his hands travel to your boobs once again. He's squeezing and scratching at them, letting you ride his hard cock.

He's smirking "of course I am. Look at you. You think I could ever stop?"

You pick up the pace, your tits bouncing and Niki slaps your ass, leaning against your headboard as he lets you use him in any way you please.

You grind yourself, holding onto his shoulder and moving into a squatting position as you chase your climax.

"You're not gonna behave, are you?" you mewl once Niki starts pushing his hips into you. He overtakes your pace as he murmurs in your ear, lightly biting on your earlobe.

"Not when you're this close."

And you let him, hugging him as he sets a brutally fast pace, pounding into you roughly.

He manages to bend his legs, pushing himself over you as he forces you on your back once again.

He’s biting onto his lower lip as he fucks you, listening to your moans and gasps.

“Cum for me princess, let me feel you,” he says, squeezing your throat just enough to cut the oxygen off.

You don’t realize you’re drooling and Niki’s hips stutter. You feel him spill in you, and the sensation bringing you over the edge.

You gasp, mewling and clawing at his arm as you cum.

Niki pulls out, catching his breath before leaving to the bathroom. He’s back with a warm rag as he carefully cleans you up.

You hiss when the towel touches your skin, the scratchy surface harsh on your sensitive clit.

You playfully hit Niki once you see he is smiling down at you, “you did that on purpose.”

The sun’s barely up when you pad into the kitchen, hoodie-swaddled and still a little sore. You’re pouring coffee when the front door clicks open behind you.

Sunoo walks in, mid-yawn, backpack slung over one shoulder—and stops dead in his tracks when he sees Niki standing shirtless by the fridge, sleep-tousled, sipping orange juice like he owns the place.

He blinks. Once. Twice.

“Took you long enough.”

You freeze. Niki chokes on his drink.

“Sunoo—”

Sunoo drops his bag with a thud. “For the record, I came home last night and heard... things. So I very kindly turned my ass around and crashed at Heeseung’s.”

You open your mouth. Close it.

“Wait—you’re not mad?”

But your brother just grins, throwing himself onto the couch.

“Do you know how annoying it was watching you two eye-fuck across campus for months? I was this close to locking you in a closet.”

You groan, covering your face. Niki snorts, pink creeping up his neck.

“Please don’t ever say ‘eye-fuck’ again.”

You glance at Sunoo, unsure.

“You’re really not mad?”

He looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“Why would I be mad?” He shrugs, grin softening.

“I know Niki. He’ll treat you right.” A pause. “And if he doesn’t—well. I know where he sleeps.”

Niki holds up his hands, grinning.

“Not planning on messing this up, I swear.”

You smile—helpless, smitten.

Because somehow, after everything, this all feels right.

Sunoo flops back dramatically onto the couch.

“Ugh. Gross. I liked it better when you were both repressed.”

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚Bonus scene: final perfomance

Backstage hums with quiet chaos—zippers, footsteps, low murmurs—but you and Niki are in your own world. You're smoothing out the sharp edge of his collar, fingertips brushing the line of his throat. He’s warm, breathing a little too fast, and watching you like it’s a challenge.

“You’re not even touching me properly and I’m already losing focus,” he says, voice low, teasing—like he's half-joking, but mostly not.

You raise an eyebrow, smirking as your hand drifts down to adjust the hem of his jacket. “Guess it’s a good thing I’ll be the one bringing you back to reality later.”

He leans in a fraction—just enough to make your pulse skip. “That sounds like a threat. Or a promise.”

You glance up, meeting his eyes. “Why not both?”

There’s a beat of silence, thick with everything unsaid, and then someone calls his name from stage left.

But he doesn’t move—not right away. Just smiles that slow, dangerous smile like he already knows how tonight ends.

The lights are low in the campus studio, just enough glow to illuminate the stage and the semi-circle of classmates watching from the floor. It’s the last day of the semester, final showcase. Your professor announces your names, and then the beat drops. “All That Matters” by Justin Bieber.

You step out onto the polished floor, heart pounding in time with the bass. Niki’s already there, waiting for you in a fitted black shirt, sleeves rolled, chain low on his collarbone. He looks unfair. Calm. Ravishing.

The music swells. You move.

It’s slow, almost hypnotic — all lingering touches and too-close footwork. His hand brushes your waist. You tilt your chin up. Bodies magnetized, orbiting, crashing.

When you straddle his thigh during the chorus, the entire room holds its breath. His hands settle on your hips like he was born to put them there.

You lock eyes.

And for a second, the world falls away. No classmates, no professor, no judging stares.

Just you and him — synced, electric, starved.

He murmurs just loud enough for you to hear.

“If I get hard during this, it’s your fault.”

You bite back a smirk.

“You’ve been hard since we walked in.”

He grins, dark and unrepentant, guiding you into the final step — a dip so slow and intimate it feels like undressing in public.

The song ends. Silence. Then—

Applause.

Cheers break out, someone even whistles, but you barely hear it. You’re too caught in the aftermath. Niki’s still holding you, one hand splayed across your back.

You whisper, breathless.

“I can’t believe we just did that.”

He leans in, lips brushing your ear.

“Believe it. And later? I’m reenacting every second.”

[starcurtain]

Please do elaborate on Kaeya and Diluc's fanon! Your post on Kaeya and Venti was amazing to read.

First, before any Diluc lovers come out of the woodwork trying to defend their favorite from me, I gotta place my disclaimer: I am also a Diluc lover; he is definitely in my top three favorite Mondstadt characters (after Venti who is my favorite archon and Kaeya who is one of my favorite Genshin characters in general). So as I make this post, please just keep in mind that I also love and respect Diluc and his role in the story; recognizing a character's flaws and mistakes isn't a personal attack, mmmkayy?

All right, so anyway...

When it comes to Diluc and Kaeya's shattered relationship (personally I view them as strictly brothers, but I can also stay in my own lane, so there is no ship hate intended by this post), everyone talks about the damage Diluc supposedly did to Kaeya's eye and focuses on their duel on the night of Crepus's death.

People are quick to forgive Diluc because he had an obvious reason to be completely overwhelmed; having just lost his father, Kaeya's timing of coming clean about his secret was absolutely abysmal. If Kaeya had managed to wait even one day, the situation might have been very different, so I don't think there's any particular surprise that Diluc ended up attacking his brother, and I think this is where fanon takes on Diluc and Kaeya tend to focus--that Diluc had an warranted emotional response on the night of his father's death and lashed out, and Kaeya has mostly his own terrible sense of timing to blame for what occurred.

Therefore, the fanon approach to Diluc and Kaeya seems to be largely that both of them owe each other reconciliation and that, if they want to mend their relationship, both of them need to put in equal amounts of work.

But personally, I think this is neglecting two glaring aspects of the canon material we're given:

Kaeya's physical injury (if there even actually is one) is absolutely minuscule in comparison to the emotional damage Diluc's attack did. Even years later, Kaeya is not okay.

The diametrically opposed ways that Kaeya and Diluc understand and react to the people around them make Diluc's methods of atoning for his behavior virtually incompatible with what Kaeya emotionally needs from his brother.

I am not downplaying the incredible pain that Diluc would have gone through, having to mercy kill his own father after barely surviving a brutal attack thanks only to his father's sacrifice. To then learn, on top of that, that the brother you had loved, who had been an accepted and trusted member of your family for years, was actually a foreign entity planted in your country with the possibility of becoming a sleeper agent for the enemy--this is beyond the pale of what any normal person could accept. Diluc's anger, pain, and desire to lash out are understandable, and turning on his brother in that moment was essentially inevitable.

However, what people neglect is that Kaeya told Diluc the truth in that moment explicitly because of guilt.

Kaeya felt that his own reaction to Crepus's death wasn't appropriate (he felt liberated by Crepus's loss because it resolved Kaeya of the pain of making the choice between his blood father and his adoptive father) and he was trying to immediately atone for his perceived selfishness by being honest. Kaeya believed that telling Diluc the truth in that moment was better than continuing to perpetuate another lie for the person who had just had to confront his father's likely lifelong deception with the Delusion.

By baring himself completely, being honest for the first time in all his years in Mondstadt, Kaeya thought he was doing the right thing--even though he knew it would cost him his relationship with Diluc.

Diluc repaid Kaeya's honesty with rejection, and Kaeya viewed this as a deserved punishment.

Kaeya's confession was effectively a form of self-harm. He was disgusted with himself because he perceived his complicated feelings over Crepus's death as insufficient grief--Diluc had just lost the most meaningful thing in the world to him, and so Kaeya wanted to "make it right" by losing what meant the most to him too. It was self-sabotage of the highest caliber, provoking Diluc into attacking him because that's what Kaeya thought a liar like himself deserved.

But even though Kaeya knew what the outcome would be, it's clear that he did not understand the extent to which he would internalize the messages he learned that day:

No one should put their faith in me, because I will eventually betray everyone who cares.

and

If I tell the truth, I will lose everything I have.

We're told that, as children, Diluc and Kaeya were thick as thieves, but that Diluc was the extroverted and outgoing one, while Kaeya stuck "in his brother's shadow."

Stories from their childhood reveal that Diluc was the troublemaker who dragged Kaeya into his antics. Kaeya's hangout confirms that Kaeya was a quiet, well-behaved child (it's possible he feared that acting out would cost him his place in Mondstadt) and that his people-pleasing tendencies were already firmly in place, if the stories Adeline has to tell are anything to go by.

And yet the Kaeya of the present is described as shifty, deliberately untrustworthy, and even the type to put others in danger to suit his own ends, refusing the trust of even those closest to him:

It's obvious that there's intentionality behind this behavior--a double-edged blade: Kaeya successfully deceives everyone around him about his actual past, blinding people from asking the hard questions with flashiness and diversions on the surface--and yet he also cannot bear to be trusted. He has internalized the impression of himself as a liar and a betrayer so deeply that he actively repels others' attempts to get closer to him, acting shady and unreliable to introduce doubt into every relationship he forms, so that when the inevitable happens and his secret is finally revealed to the world at large (as it was once revealed to Diluc), he won't face the same pain of loss again.

Kaeya cannot betray anyone ever again if no one ever trusts him to begin with.

Thus, Diluc's reaction to Kaeya's reveal didn't just cost Kaeya his relationship with Diluc. It effectively cost Kaeya his relationships with everyone.

Kaeya went from being a quiet, well-loved child to the kind of person who would smirk while putting his own men in danger, the kind of person who every single other character in Mondstadt (and even the Traveler!) calls a "mystery" whose words can't ever be trusted:

The people of Mondstadt, particularly his fellow knights, clearly love Kaeya; they want to be close to him. The archon of Mondstadt clearly loves Kaeya. But Kaeya's self-image is so horrifically warped by the fact that he revealed the truth of himself one time (just one time!) and immediately lost everything he loved because of that truth, that he has become incapable of letting anyone close again, sabotaging all his relationships in advance before the people on the other side can figure out that he's not who he claims to be.

Because of how Diluc reacted, Kaeya has subconsciously drawn a connection between honesty and pain: So long as Kaeya hides who he is, he can be accepted and tolerated in Mondstadt. But if he dares to reveal the truth, he will be met with violence and outrage.

Thus, Kaeya has resigned himself to a literal "lifetime of lies," a "never-ending performance" in which he can never be honest with those around him--even while other characters like Albedo cruise through life with seemingly no care that people know their Khaenri'ahn connections.

This is why "acting" is so prominent a theme in Kaeya's character, both in the past and present, why we constantly see him "playing a role" (as a prince, as a bandit, as a hero, etc. etc.)--he is never the real person, always a performer, and it is often only through his performances that he's able to express some of his own true thoughts and feelings, masking himself behind someone else's script as a way to "safely" express the tiniest hints of his own truth.

What happened with Diluc fucked Kaeya up bad, in the most basic of terms.

Because the problem is: Kaeya doesn't want to be the way he is. He clearly loves the people of Mondstadt with everything he has. He adores Klee, greatly respects Jean, and has an incredible desire to protect the city that took him in. He wants to be close to others. He wants to reconnect with Diluc. He's a desperately lonely character who practically begs the Traveler to spend time with him and reacts surprisingly harshly when the idea of his being lonely is dragged into the light.

I'd even go so far as to argue that his legitimate issues with alcohol stem from the fact that the taverns of Mondstadt are the one place where he is guaranteed to find company, where no matter what time of the night, he is sure to find someone--even if it's just bandits and treasure hunters--to fill the silence.

Because of his past experience, Kaeya can neither be honest with others nor comfortable with lying to them, constantly forced to keep others at arm's length to avoid the painful possibility of further rejection for just being himself. What happened the night of Crepus's death essentially shut Kaeya out of any healthy adult relationships, leaving him entirely alone even in the middle of a city full of people who want to love him.

(This is why it's so important to me that Dainsleif already knows all of Kaeya's background, even the parts Kaeya is still keeping quiet about--but that's just the DainKae shipper in me jumping out, so I'll move on lolol.)

While grappling with the very real fear of his own future, of knowing that his destiny will catch up with him--but wracked with the uncertainty of not knowing where and how--while struggling with his divided allegiances, while just trying to figure out where his own place in the world even is, Kaeya is entirely alone, trapped on the sidelines of his own life in no small part because he took the risk of being himself one time and it cost him everything he loved.

And this is where I think fanon struggles, because it's much easier to just say that Kaeya is dishonest by nature, that he was always going to be a deceptive character, or that the worst outcome of his duel with Diluc was the scar on his face. There's this ridiculous notion that Diluc is already done atoning for that physical wound...

But the scar on Kaeya's face (if there even really is one) is utterly meaningless. The reason Kaeya won't take off his eyepatch has nothing to do with his appearance. He won't take off that eyepatch because it's symbolic of his fear of revealing himself. Kaeya's eyes are synonymous with his identity as a Khaenri'ahn, and thus his refusal to reveal his other eye is nothing more than a visual indication of his discomfort with himself, his divided loyalty, and his internalized belief that the cost of revealing himself fully will be the thing he most cares about: his home in Mondstadt.

Kaeya's entire personality, his sense of self-worth--his life--was reshaped on the night he dueled with Diluc.

And this is the tragedy, of course: Diluc's actions were understandable. Even Kaeya knew Diluc's lashing out was inevitable. It's not like we can really say "This is your fault, Diluc." But the fact of the matter does remain: If Diluc had only managed to control his emotions just a little bit better, if he had only been able to stop himself for a moment to think about his brother as a person who was also hurting and fraught in that moment, he might have realized the emotional significance of Kaeya revealing who he truly was. If Diluc had accepted--or even just tolerated--Kaeya's truth, Kaeya's entire adult life would be different, and that's just a basic fact.

Diluc has his own flaws though! He has his own crosses to bear that made it impossible--that I think, to a certain extent still make it impossible--for him to understand the damage he did and can still do to Kaeya.

So this whole fanon notion of them being on a reasonable path to reconciliation, that they'll be able to resolve their past disagreements by meeting each other in the middle... I just don't think that's really all that accurate to canon. I don't mean that they're not working toward reconciliation or that they won't get there eventually, but that the notion of "reconciliation" in the first place is entirely tangled up with Kaeya's sense of self-identity, and until he is able to resolve the truth of his past and his lingering loyalties to Khaenri'ah, I don't think he'll ever be able to fully repair the relationship that was lost between himself and Diluc.

And to be honest, this is just my personal view of the situation, but... I find it particularly hard to stomach the idea that Kaeya should be the primary driver of repairing the relationship between himself and Diluc, which I've seen in a lot of fanon takes (perhaps because fans in general agree that Diluc is a lot less likely to take action in an emotional situation than he is when fighting monsters lol).

I don't believe Kaeya really thinks it's possible for him to fully reconcile with Diluc. Kaeya cannot apologize for his existence, for being Khaenri'ahn--he cannot change who he is. He cannot "undo" his revealing the truth or make the reality of his double life go away. Thus, in Kaeya's eyes, he effectively has no way to make himself "acceptable" to Diluc again. This is why he continues to shy away from Diluc, even all the way to the recent archon quest, where he tries to excuse himself immediately, claiming that they'd just get in each other's way:

It's why he behaves like a thief sneaking into the Dawn Winery and repeatedly calls himself nothing more than a "guest" in the house, even though Adeline and the other employees pointedly tell him it's still his home and he's still welcome.

It's why, despite continually doing things to show he still cares--keeping Diluc's Vision safe, sending letters while Diluc was away--Kaeya isn't even brave enough to call Diluc his brother to his face anymore.

Kaeya cannot "fix" what happened between himself and Diluc, and his own image and sense of worth have been so shattered by what is now years of internalized self-doubt and self-imposed isolation that he seems afraid to even genuinely expect anything of Diluc at all, let alone consider the possibility that Diluc might owe him an apology instead.

Diluc knows he does, though.

He just can't give it because of who he is.

This is, I think, the most frustrating--but also most realistic and best written!--part of Diluc and Kaeya's relationship: Diluc clearly does want to atone for what happened the night Crepus died. He is doing many things, in his own Diluc-ish way, to signal to Kaeya that he wants to put the past behind them and restore their relationship.

He kept and displays the vase Kaeya hid his Vision in (despite it being garish on purpose); he also keeps the lantern Kaeya brings him from Sumeru in Kaeya's hangout.

He responded to Kaeya's letters during his absence from Mondstadt. He allows Kaeya into the Dawn Winery, with the implication that the doors were always open for him in the first place.

When Kaeya tries to leave during the most recent archon quest, Diluc essentially makes it clear that there's no reason why they shouldn't stay together.

Showing a picture of Diluc's in-game model feels like character assassination at this point...

Although Diluc can be prickly and doesn't always have the nicest of things to say about Kaeya to others, it's pretty clear that he isn't intentionally holding a personal grudge. For the most part, it comes across as if Diluc seems set on quietly putting aside their past--as if it didn't happen.

This is, effectively, an apology without actually speaking one: If Diluc allows Kaeya back into his life, acts as if Kaeya is making a big deal out of nothing (like when he told Kaeya to quit guilting him over the eye injury), and implies that Kaeya still belongs in the Winery family, at the Angel's Share, etc., then isn't he doing the right thing? Isn't he showing Kaeya that he does accept him as he is? That he knows who Kaeya really is and still can tolerate him?

You can almost feel the thought process: Do I really have to spell it out?

But the problem is that Kaeya's sense of self-worth is so crippled by his internal perceptions--I'm a liar, I have and will continue to betray my loved ones, I'm not meant to be here--that Diluc's presumptuous and silent form of reconciliation is essentially incompatible with what Kaeya actually needs to hear and experience. Kaeya does, in fact, need it spelled out. In glaring red letters. And then probably fifteen more times for good measure before he'll actually start to let himself believe it.

Over and over and over again, people reassure Kaeya of his place in Mondstadt and in the Dawn Winery family specifically:

But over and over again, Kaeya dodges and dismisses their reassurances, because until he believes Diluc has forgiven and accepted him, he will never feel confident in his place in the Ragnvindr family (and by extension, Mondstadt) again. Even though Kaeya has visual proof of Diluc's continuing care--the vase in the lobby of the winery--he doesn't dare to make any major assumption. He isn't confident enough to take Diluc's string of small gestures for actual, meaningful acceptance.

Despite how obviously Kaeya wants to be Diluc's brother again--the moment at the end of the recent archon quest is the most joyously animated we've seen Kaeya in a long time--

--their reconciliation is effectively doomed to continue at a glacial pace because of who they are as people.

Diluc's method of handling the emotional issues in his life is critically avoidant, while Kaeya desperately needs direct and unambiguous confirmation that he cannot rationalize away.

Until both of them are able to confront the heart of the matter--which is Kaeya's identity and Diluc's explicit acceptance thereof (Kaeya's explicit acceptance thereof!)--they will continue to make minuscule progress as Diluc lets his gestures, rather than his words, speak on his desire for reconciliation, and Kaeya tentatively toes the line and then retreats, two steps backward for one step forward.

It's my personal belief that we'll likely see a "real" reconciliation between Diluc and Kaeya only when Kaeya is able to finally reconcile with himself.

But Diluc could fix this problem at any time, if he wasn't, you know... Diluc. 😂

Anyway, all this to say that I think fanon really favors Diluc over Kaeya in a lot of cases and that there's a critical lack of reflection on the long-lasting and very serious effects that their falling out had on Kaeya's emotional and mental state.

It's not about the duel, it's not about the eye scar--it's about Kaeya becoming convinced that his entire life must, by necessity, remain a lie forever, crystalizing his belief that he can never feel comfortable in his own skin.

He was already struggling and uncertain about his dual allegiances, but to take the risk of revealing himself to someone he loved only to face immediate and violent rejection... Kaeya knew it was coming and it still messed him up a lot, a lot more than people seem interested in talking about.

Just sayin'.

[keddwario]

Honestly, yes. I'm pretty sure Jumba was also an outcast child. I bet he never had a family or a place to belong. So he made one. A destructive one, perhaps to punish a cruel galaxy that turned its back on a little boy who needed it, but a family nonetheless.

I've been thinking about two major scenes between Stitch and Jumba. First, the Ugly Duckling scene in the forest. When Jumba hears that Stitch is waiting for his family, he tells him he can never belong, but it's how he tells him. He doesn't speak callously, or cackle like a true "evil genius scientist" might. He speaks so softly. He lets him down gently. It's kinder to tell him the cruel truth now than let him waste time and tears on a dream that can never come true. He's speaking from experience.

Then cut to later, with the ohana scene. Stitch repeats back the family phrase to Nani with a true understanding of its meaning and Nani repeats it with him. A bond. A mutual connection passes between them in that moment. Jumba witnesses it all. And then he asks Jumba to help him get his family back. Jumba makes a show of protesting but folds pretty quickly. Because my god, he did it! He found family! Connection! Love! All things Jumba convinced himself were impossible to obtain for creatures like them! And Stitch had found it, right there on a little island on Earth. So fuck yeah we're getting the little human girl back from Gantu! She's a goddamn miracle and she will not be stolen away!

Idk, man. It's a beautiful movie.

anyway decided to rewatch Lilo & Stitch (2002) tonight and I think an underrated element of the family motif is that for all that Jumba spends the first two thirds of the movie insisting that Stitch has no purpose except destruction and no capacity to connect with other people, the moment they start cooperating it's obvious that Jumba and Stitch have exactly the same sense of humor, along with a distinct physical resemblance and a lot of the same mannerisms. Jumba put a lot more of himself into his masterpiece than he wants to admit.

[whimsical--cat]

Operation Lover Boy: Declassified

Summary: BAU’s resident genius hid something from the team. As #1 Office Informant, Penelope Garcia swore she would get the truth out of him. Or Spencer had a secret girlfriend, and the team was about to find out.

Genre: Humor (kind of) with a dash of fluff

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2638

Warnings: Mention of Spencer got shot, but he was fine, and it was kind of important to the plot.

Author Notes: This one is so much fun to write!!! The majority of this fanfic was written from Garcia’s POV, but I added a tiny bit of Spencer’s POV at the end of it.

Penelope might not be a profiler, but as (self-proclaimed) #1 Office Informant, who knew every tittle-tattle in each nook of the office, she sensed that the Boy Wonder hid something from the team (her) — she hasn’t figured out what yet. That, the part that bothered her the most. She didn’t like secrets when it came to her family. She understood that Reid was a private person, but what if the thing he hid from the team (her) got him into trouble? She just wanted to be a good friend, you know?

She noticed it around 2 months ago. It was subtle, and almost went on unnoticed at first. Right after Hotch said wheels up, Reid pulled out his phone from his pocket and texted someone. She initially thought he just needed to contact someone from the care facility his mother was in. But then it happened every single time just like clockwork. He always texted someone before they went to wherever the case whisked them away. In all the years Penelope has known the Boy Wonder, she never saw him texting someone that often, especially during office hours.

The text thing wasn’t the only one that she noticed, of course. Next was the fact that Reid has stopped hanging out in the bullpen after office hours. Shocking. She couldn’t believe her eyes when that happened. Most of the time he was no longer on his desk when Penelope walked to the elevator. What could he possibly be doing?

The last thing, and definitely the most shocking one happened when the team just finished a case in Portland last week. It was common for the team to go back to the office when they finished a case. But that wasn’t what happened that day. Once they were landed, Reid went straight home.

JJ said it was something to do with a new book he needed to pick up at the bookstore before closing time. Sure it was common knowledge that Boy Genius loved books, if he could live in the library, he probably would. Back to the main point, it’d take less than an hour if he came down to the office first, and she was certain that the bookstore would still be open by then.

What frustrated her even further was she had zero idea how he behaved on the field recently. The disadvantages of a desk job. Did he act differently? Did he also secretly text someone when the team was building the profile of their UnSub? She definitely needed an additional set of eyes and ears on the field. And who would fit this role better than her favorite Chocolate Thunder, hm?

The team was currently in San Diego, dealing with yet another serial killer. Morgan just happened to call her to do some digging, in hope it’d help build their profile further. Perfect timing.  A little chit-chat with your colleague during working hours wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Hey, before you go… Do you, perhaps, notice something going on with Reid?”

“What about Reid?”

Penelope immediately caught the change of tone in his voice. The playfulness in his voice was gone, and replaced with a concerned one. She knew how protective Morgan could be, especially when it came to Reid, and she felt bad for making him think something bad happened.

“No-no-no, I promise it’s not something bad. Well, I hope it’s not.”

“Garcia, what’s going on?”

So, she told him everything. Every little detail she had observed the last 2 months. How it drove her insane that she hadn’t figured out what was happening.

“Ah. I see.”

“Derek.” Her voice was firm even through the phone. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“Well, now that you mentioned it. When we shared a room in Portland, he was almost never in the room by the time I finished my shower. Every time I asked him, he either said he just needed some air or took a phone call.”

“Is this what I think it is?” She gasped as she came to a realization. “I don’t even want to say it out loud — afraid I might jinx it.”

“You think Pretty Boy hides a Pretty Girl from all of us?”

If anyone listened close enough, they would recognize her squeal through the phone. “OH GOD. Is this really happening to our Einstein?”

“Maybe. I can keep an eye on him for you.”

“You know me too well. This is why I love you.”

“Alright, baby girl, I gotta go.”

Throughout the investigation, as promised, Morgan kept feeding Penelope new information. Thanks to the additional findings from him, her suspicion was correct. Reid had been constantly texting someone while on duty. Not all the time, of course. But he’d make time to take a little break to text someone.

When they were back to the hotel, as expected, Reid left the room again once Morgan took a shower. One time, after his shower, Morgan searched for Reid, and found him in the lobby, making a phone call. He lingered for a bit, and discovered that Boy Genius was apologizing to whoever he had a phone call with — explaining that unfortunately it took them longer to solve the case, so he wouldn’t be back any time soon. Based on Morgan’s observation, he definitely talked to a special lady friend.

After 6 long days, the team finally managed to catch the UnSub. When they cornered the UnSub, unfortunately Reid got shot on his arm — they had to stay another night until the hospital discharged him. Hotch had instructed him to take a few days off, starting effectively the moment they were back to Quantico. 

Penelope, as the best friend that she was, had suggested that if they didn’t have any pre-existing plans on the weekend, they should go visit Reid together. Sadly, not all the team members could go. With Morgan and Emily on both of her sides, they stood in front of Reid’s apartment door.

After a few knocks, the door was finally opened. They had expected Boy Genius to open the door, probably in his pajamas or any comfy loungewear he’d usually wear at home. What they didn’t expect however was a woman, wearing a CalTach hoodie (most definitely his hoodie) and shorts, opening the door. You looked completely cozy at his apartment. Emily even did a double-take on the apartment number, in case they knocked on the wrong door.

“Hey. Are you guys Spencer’s friends?” The sweet girl hesitantly asked them.

“Yes. We work with him.” Emily chimed in, and they could hear the amusement in her voice.

“Oh! The BAU! Come in. He’s still asleep though.” You stepped aside to let them in.

As the 3 of them stood in the living room, they watched you go to  what they assumed was Reid’s bedroom. They heard some noise from inside the room, you probably tried to wake him up.

The grin that had taken its rightful place on Penelope’s face from the moment you opened the front door hadn’t faded — her face started to hurt a little, but she didn’t care. Dr. Spencer Reid actually hid a girlfriend from them!

“Do you know about any of this?” Emily whispered from her right.

“Uh-hu, I had suspected it for almost 2 months.” 

After a while, you re-emerged from the bedroom, Reid was hot on your tail. That was also the moment he realized that the two of you had companies.

“Hm, hey, guys.” Reid stood awkwardly next to you.

“Pretty Boy is hiding a Pretty Girl from us this entire time?” Morgan’s signature smirk was on full display on his face.

“Right. This is Morgan, Garcia, and Emily.” Clearing his throat, Reid turned toward you, and introduced you. “This is my girlfriend.”

You, who looked completely entertained throughout the exchange, said your name. “Spencer talks about you guys a lot. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Penelope, who had been keeping her excitement at bay, finally exploded. “And we sadly had heard nothing about you, sweet girl. Our Einstein here clearly wants to keep you for himself.”

“I understand that Spencer is a private person, and I want to respect his wish to keep this between us.”

“Can I hug you? Please, I want to hug you.” Penelope looked at you with her pleading eyes.

“Sure.” You chuckled at her request.

They spent the next few hours chatting in Reid’s living room, grilling the couple with many questions regarding their relationship. They all were simultaneously shocked and amazed when they learned that the two of you had been together for 7 months! Boy Wonder managed to keep his relationship private for 7 months. Who would’ve thought?

What actually shocked them the most was when they learned how you two first met. Apparently, from time to time you did dog-sitting, and you usually took the dogs for a walk to this one particular park. That was where you met Reid.

One fateful day, the dog you took to the park ran towards Reid and quite literally knocked him off of the bench. You immediately apologized to him, and offered if there was something you could do to make it up to him. He easily brushed it off, saying it was nobody’s fault. With  a funny twist of fate, you two kept seeing each other in that park from that day on. At some point, Reid finally gathered his courage, and asked if you were single. Once you said yes, he asked again whether or not you wanted to go on a date with him. The rest was history.

Their conversation flew effortlessly, bouncing from one topic to another. They shared some (embarrassing) stories about Reid to you. As if it was possible, his ears visibly got redder with each story they shared. You seemed to enjoy the whole interaction. Seeing this side of Boy Wonder, one where he engaged with his closest friends, you’ve never seen before.

Penelope just had to tell you how happy she was knowing that Reid had you in his life. He smiled at that statement. A smile that she had never seen before. Surely it was something that was intended to be kept for a more intimate moment between the two of you.

Not only did they share stories of Reid, they also asked some questions about you. They wanted to know more about the woman who clearly had stolen the heart of one Dr. Spencer Reid. So you told them about where you grew up, what kind of job you do, what you do in your spare time, and many more.

You even confirmed that yes indeed Boy Genius always texted you before the team traveled to deal with the bad guy. Another shocking truth when you revealed it was actually his idea to have a nightly phone call when he was away. Who would’ve thought that Reid was a romantic?

“You do realize that once this story reaches the rest of the team, you have to retell it all over again for them, right?” Morgan teased him.

“Right. It’s only fair for them to hear it, too.” Emily added in.

“I hate you guys.” Reid groaned, then buried his face in his hands.

“No, you don’t.” Penelope cheerfully responded. “Once JJ knows about this too, we should have a girl’s night!” This time she talked to you.

“Sure.” — “No!” The two of you answered at the same time.

It caused all of you to burst out laughing, well except for Reid. In defeat, he threw his head to the back of the couch. Accepting the impending endless teasing from the team that he was sure wouldn’t die down any time soon. She caught how you brushed his knuckles, perhaps trying to calm him. A soft smile adorned Penelope’s face at the loving gesture.

When it was time for them to go home, you two walked them to the front door. To Reid’s dismay, of course Penelope had to ask for your number before they left — really solidified the upcoming girl’s night that could happen any time soon.

“See you on Monday, Lover Boy.” Morgan waved at you two as he walked towards the stairs.

“I’ll text you later, sweet girl.”

---

Once the door was closed, Spencer wanted to hit his head on the door so badly. This was exactly why he kept his relationship private. Not that he was ashamed of you, or his relationship — no, he loved you dearly. However he had a noisy group of friends. He knew this would eventually happen, but still, he wished he could keep it private for a bit longer.

Probably sensing his distress, you turned him around so he’d look at you. “It wasn’t that bad. I like seeing your friends, and they’re clearly happy for you. For us.” Clearing your throat, before continuing. “It also makes me happy knowing it’s me that makes you happy.”

He gently stroked your cheek, and pleased when you immediately leaned into his touch. “Of course you make me happy, sweetheart. I guess I’m doing such a poor job on showing how grateful I am to have you in my life if you ever doubt that.” He kissed your forehead, and his lips lingered seconds too long. “I love you.”

“I love you too, genius. I hope you’re ready for Monday.”

“Please don’t remind me.”

A serial killer didn’t catch a break over the weekend unfortunately, because Hotch had contacted the team to gather in the round-table room first thing first on Monday. On the other hand, Spencer was thankful, it meant they would immediately discuss the case, and they wouldn’t have time to tease him about his relationship.

This time, the case would take them to Austin. The local PD had requested the assistance of the BAU on their ongoing investigation. Once Hotch announced wheels up, and the team was about to get ready, Garcia however stopped them. She encouraged him to tell the rest of the team. They were back to their seats, and staring at him with knowing looks. Fantastic.

So, dejectedly he disclosed his relationship to the rest of the team. There were a few gasps from JJ and Rossi who weren’t at his apartment then. Even Hotch looked somewhat pleased with this newest discovery.

“Go on, Lover Boy. Aren’t you going to text your girl?” Of course it was Morgan who started it.

“I can’t believe you managed to keep it private this long, kid.” Rossi joined in.

“Maybe we should grab a drink when we’re back, and invite her to join us, Spence.” JJ added with amusement in her voice.

“Oh, that’s a fun idea! You better tell her soon, Doc. If you don’t, remember that I have her phone number, and I’ll definitely do it.” Garcia threatened him but with so much glee in her tone.

With a long heavy sigh, Spencer admitted his defeat. “Fine. I’ll tell her.”

One by one, the team started leaving the room — getting their stuff ready for the trip. Morgan patted his back before leaving the room. Spencer still sat in his seat, pulling out his phone to text you. 

Spencer [08:47]: We’re going to Austin this time. You [08:48]: Please be safe. Did you survive the interrogation? Spencer [08:49]: I will. It could’ve been worse. The whole team wants to meet you when we’re back. Garcia threatened me that she’ll personally contact you if I don’t inform you. You [08:50]: Do you think I should meet them? Spencer [08:51]: Yes, but only if you’re comfortable with it. You [08:52]: Well, I guess I’ll see everyone when the case is over.

Spencer put his phone back in his pocket. The corner of his mouth quirked up. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that the team now knew about you.

[northopalshore]

꒰ა North Node in the ໒꒱

Union persona chart

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹. Union (1585). This post only applies to the north node in the UPC. I've found that it describes the purpose of your meeting, the why & how you even got to where you met in the first place (before actually meeting, even knowing about them). This post is based on personal observations. Subject to change depending on other placements and aspects it makes!

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

ʕ⁠ ⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔฅ please don't repost on other platforms without permission!

northopalshores' masterlist| union persona chart masterlist

In retrograde° you'll be returning to something, like a place or activity, job, something you used to do in the past. The sign or house itself will tell you more.

0° focus on the sign and house that the north node is in!

🍪 Aries (°1,°13,°25) | 1st House

You will likely be putting yourself out there in one way or another when you meet your future spouse. Usually, this placement suggests that you are the one that will be "found", but it's not completely limited to that. There's not much context for this placement on its own but from what I've seen, how you meet if very sudden. You will be minding your own business for the most part but still are available for something. There's a reason that enables people to want to come to you (could be a business, could be information or guidance that you have). You could be competing over something too even if you do not realize it; like amongst all the services out there your FS chose yours.

Ex: That's what happened to my father! He was a driver when he met my mother, though there were many other drivers available, my mom choose him based on his reputation that she heard from a friend. He has North node in Aries °19 Libra in the 12th house.

🍪 Taurus (°2,°14,°26) | 2nd House

You are likely to meet through someone else (like another partner or meet because of a partner, your profile, or your looks & even your business & reputation). The purpose of your meeting can range from someone being interested in your looks or for the sake of a beneficial relationship (like business transaction or possibly romantic from the beginning). Most of the time, your meeting is also related to connections whether romantic or business. There is also usually a transaction of sorts going on even if it's just a "view count". I think it's worth noting that I've seen this placement in charts of people who met their significant other online as well besides the obvious work connection. Though with how the modern world works nowadays, it's not surprising more people are finding love online.

Ex: I have a friend with North node in Taurus °4 Cancer in the 5th house. She met her FS through interacting with her mutuals and family members profiles on Facebook. His account just popped us as someone recommend lol.

🍪 Gemini (°3,°15,°27) | 3rd House

The purpose of you being wherever you are at when you meet your future spouse is to interact with other people (socializing, connecting possibly with different people). You could be going for an interview, an event where people will be speaking of showcasing their skill (you might be doing that as well), you could be meant to learn something, going on a short trip somewhere for that exact reason. Literally using your voice , learning how to use said voice or even writing. You could be giving a speech or singing that day (catch yourself at a karaoke bar after this one lmao). With that being the whole reason of your day, your plan for that specific time & place.

Ex: Taylor Swift has north node in Aquarius °3 Gemini in the 8th house. She was performing when the whole thing started (to my knowledge). She & Travis met through a mutual, but it was Travis's effort trying to get a hold of her during that concert (he made a friendship bracelet with his number on it lmao) that got them together in the first place, although he didn't give it to her directly. I'm not sure if they'll end up together in the long run, but it would be nice if they did! He is certainly different from the usual type of guy she'd date.

🍪 Cancer (°4,°16,°28) | 4th House

You are likely going to meet them while you are in your home town or at the comfort of your own home, somewhere you are close to your family, close to your family members (could literally be a day that you are spending with your family). Your purpose of meeting could have been related to your mother or literally your hometown in someway. There may be some "memorabilia " related to your meeting. Having something in common. The purpose for meeting them may be due to your desire to "solidify" something as well.

Ex: I know it doesn't make much sense on it own but I promise this makes sense. Like Priscilla Presley has North node in Cancer ° 1 in the 12th house. She was spending her time out with her brother when she was approached by Currie Grant who invited her to Elvis's home. He invited her because she looked like "Elvis's type".

🍪 Leo (°5,°17,°29) | 5th House

You are likely to be having a fun time right around the time you meet your future spouse. The purpose of your meeting could be for fun or stem from having, your entertainment. You could be showing off, connecting with random people. You could meet where there are a lot of people that come to where you are at for that exact reason (which can range from online communities, social media, an event, a party or a concert but in a less "connected way" if that makes sense since Leo energy tends to be self centered/focused). Either way, the reason people are there (where you are at when you meet your FS) is to have fun, could be related to a hobby as well.

🍪 Virgo (°6,°18) | 6th House

You likey met while you are quite busy or just sticking to your regular routine (or going back to it). Your initial purpose of meeting your spouse is work related, but it can also relate to your personal lives. You are doing something you want to /have to do. To me, there is always some sort of service involved with this placement which means you could be working for them or getting a service from them (especially if it's also influenced by Capricorn, Libra or Taurus). Whatever it is, you are meeting them for a very practical reason. You could be the one "searching" for your future spouse for work related reasons.

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

🍪 Libra (°7,°19) | 7th House

Literally meeting for a collaboration, something business or school work related for some, usually professionally but it could also literally be for romantic purposes depending on the combination of placements you may have. You'll likely be going to some kind of planned event or meeting surrounded with either important people, or well presented individuals.

Ex: Libra north node ° 8 Scorpio in the 5th or 12th house house could be for a blind date. A more specific example would be Cardi B. She has North node in Sagittarius °19 Libra in the 6th house. She met her current ex husband through a collaboration! The literal purpose of them meeting was to collaborate on that (though I did read that they met prior at a.. "Industry event" which led to them collaborating as well). This was when her career was on the rise, just a couple months from her first big hit.

🍪 Scorpio (°8,°20) | 8th House

You will be doing something on your own, possibly for the first time when you meet your future spouse. This placement has a lot of range though, but you will be doing something rather "risky" just before meeting. Like being at a new place on your own, being somewhere you aren't supposed to be or looking for a certain service that is illegal/not certified (?) hah you won't be purchasing illegal substances from them don't worry. It could be high end products / transactions as well. There is always a give & take aspect related to your meeting. Your relationship will change your mind surrounding something in your life that you may thought is way behind you. You could also meet because of a dare.

🍪 Sagittarius (°9,°21) | 9th House

You are likely to meet you future spouse somewhere with a lot of people. A lot of things will seem to be going your way during this time of your life, like win after win. The purpose of your meeting will be to expand a part of your life. To gain more traction over something, to boost your image too for some of you. You are likely in the mood to explore and enlighten yourself independently. You could be surrounded by friends or people that know you and vice versa when you meet your future spouse. You could also meet by "luck" or chance, which I k ow sounds rather bleak, but it does happen! Other big things happening led you to meet your FS for some reason and not the other. (You can also refer to 2nd example I left for that Capricorn placement with Gypse Rose Blanchard).

🍪 Capricorn (°10,°22) | 10th House

Often times I see this show up in charts of people who met their future spouse through their reputation. Also, you could be the one to find your FS through their reputation in some way. Someone could be gaining a lot of exposure during this time (even if it's just a few people, it's still more than zero!!) . You could meet at a somewhat private or "professional" setting too. You could treat whatever you are doing while you meet as work even if you aren't exactly working. There is still a possibility of meeting them through parental wishes and through working of course, but I saw more of the reputation aspect show up in my database (charts I keep) than the others.

Ex: My friend has North node in Taurus °10 Capricorn in the 8th house. She met her FS through someone else that was flirting with her, her FS found her through her Instagram after she dropped it in one of her TikTok lives (where that other friend found her in the first place). She said it was just to try something new, putting herself out there. She did gain quite a following after lmao.

Ex 2: Gypsy Rose has North node in Capricorn °9 Sagittarius in the 8th house! This is something I found quite entertaining, but the reason Anderson met her was because of a dare when "Tiger King" was popular 😭. I'd assume her name was also thrown around quite frequently considering she was included in the dare in the first place. His friend wrote to Tiger King, and he wrote to Gypsy. As for the rest, well you likey already know.

🍪 Aquarius (°11,°23) | 11th House

You'll meet your future spouse due to socializing. You are likely at a place or going to a place with a lot of people either by your own desire or your friends. Like a huge convention or a strange masterclass for some reason. Either way, you will be there to talk and show your face if that makes sense. You could be the person standing out as well (be on stage, etc). You could be invited to some kind of event (or online) or go anywhere you will be seen with a lot of people. Usually related to technology, some sort of knowledge, or community, and even innovation. You could be there to talk to someone specific or to gain/ spread more information about yourself or your cause or even just because you feel like it, the audience is usually bigger but rather one sided.

🍪 Pisces (°12,°24) | 12th House

You could be planning to go on a trip when you meet them (meaning to go somewhere, at a distance when you suddenly meet). Aside from that, you will be doing something that you usually do. Could be a rather uneventful time, or a "pause"/break in something currently going on in your life. Something could be cancelled just for you to meet as well. The purpose of your meeting could stem from the desire to travel (either you or them), could be related to transportation as well. The reason for meeting is usually because you plan on moving from one place to another (or even moving countries). Your meeting it's is rather private and most of your interactions will be just between you and you future spouse. You will be quite unaware for the most part! (Like you don't even know something else is going on somewhere that led your FS to you & vise versa.

˚₊‧꒰ა paid readings available ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ ⊹ .₊๋‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑

@northopalshore

@northopalshore union persona chart 2025 all rights reserved. Disclaimer.

[chow0w]

I’d honestly love to see your take on fashion for all of the tribes! I always love seeing world-building in the fork of fashion!

Thank you so much!! I'm trying to branch out and tie fashion in with lore/culture - I genuinely lost the plot with this one but you have to walk with me like WALK with me right now. come here.

Scarlet and the Skywings: A discussion on fashion, politics and culture

About this image: Queen Scarlet crawls out of her own self-portrait, looking down at Tourmaline and the Skywings in fury. She does not notice the Guillotine above her or the fire below her, focused only on her daughter who looks up in defiance. The words 'Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité' are repeated in the background, and Tourmaline's wings are drawn to look like rays of sun.

Setting the scene - Skywings and the French

I won't pretend to know the Skywing kingdom inside out, but tailwind's section in guide to the tribes gives good insight to the kingdom's situation during Scarlet/Firestorm's reign. the extract suggests that the Skywing kingdom was an economically thriving center for the arts, as well as a kingdom which followed some semblance of an aristocracy with noble families and an upper/lower class divide - similar to the situation of pre-revolution France.

We must also consider the scope of how bad things actually were before/during Queen Scarlet's reign. Social class is never directly mentioned in canon, but it could easily be reasoned (from her + Queen Firestorm's behavior) that Scarlet's rule created tons of problems for the kingdom's commoner. between fighting 20 years of sandwing succession war, uprooting major cultural practices and dumping heinous amounts of money into self-portraits, it's safe to say Scarlet and her mother were probably the two worst things that could ever happen to the average working Skywing. Like this is the Queen who threw Osprey (A public figure old enough to be long loved) into a ravine for... teaching Peril the law.

Starved of kingdom funding, ripped from their culture and sent off to die in a sandwing war, I really feel that the Skywings deserved to crash out French style on their high society.

(That's not to say that I dislike the canon plot of the kingdom: in fact, I think it's good - it completes its duty as a plot device and still manages to make sense and be cool. If I was Tui, I would absolutely call it a day there. Lucky for me, I'm a tumblr artist and not a bestselling author. I get to write about violent revolutions.)

The revised timeline

Given the context on why I think the Skywings needed a good revolution, here's how I personally would've structured the timeline after Scarlet's rule, including the events of Escaping Peril. If you haven't read that book, I suggest skipping down to the next image.

Scarlet comes into power. Bad things happen to everyone. Skywings are pissed for 20 years, but between the war, economic issue and the fire demon (Peril) nobody really has the energy to revolt. They stay quietly angry, and (perhaps) form something similar to the chrysalis.

One day, the dragonets of destiny arrive - something happens in the arena and the tyrant is gone. The kingdom sits in aftershock for a moment, before springing into gleeful celebration. The real bloodbath is never for Scarlet - presumed to be dead or missing, they turn to the Skywing nobles who supported her instead. The WoF wiki states Skywings enjoy entertainment and fighting alike, so I like to think their last gritty celebration of freedom was making the (oppressive) aristocracy their last arena victims. Dragons like Tailwind (born into nobility but low-lying or unsupportive) were probably spared.

Queen Ruby is elected to be the new skywing ruler by default - some Skywings may feel hesitant or reluctant to have Scarlet's daughter in power, but tradition + scares of another sandwing-type war keep them from kicking her out. She does a great job, so it doesn't matter anyways and they love her.

Scarlet comes back in Escaping Peril, and for a brief moment the kingdom is turned upside down. Stories spread like wildfire, and the Skywing population are ignited with a new sense of rage at their old Queen's return. At this point, I don't even think Peril's presence would be able to stop riots and uprise on the streets.

Ruby challenges Scarlet and the canon ending happens, or Peril (somehow) realizes Ruby is Tourmaline another way and the fight can be avoided altogether. Instead, the nature of Tourmaline's erasure (using animus magic, changing her identity) is so offensively un-Skywing that the population snaps and jump Scarlet together, right then and there. She dies like Scar from the lion king.

Back to the fashion - high society

Plot lost, plot recovered. I will talk about fashion now - starting with that of the aristocracy (specifically during Scarlet and Firestorm's reign.)

Extravagant garments crown the nature of upper-class fashion: big bows, long dresses, feathered headpieces and fur wigs are what make you well-dressed here. Curiously, upper-class Skywing attire is not very Skywing at all: imports are in, tradition is out! The dragons of the aristocracy order pearls from the sea, pelts from the north and the finest tailors to put it together. As the sandwing succession war starts, trade deals are interrupted and these garments become rarer: more valuable.

Function and Logistics

These garments are generally viewed as unisex, with the urge to be best dressed outcompeting the urge to have gendered clothing within society. Most of them have intricate mechanical makeup, which is a landmark to the Skywings and their long history of design. Copper wires braided together are bent to form skirt cages, and headdresses are fashioned in place using a complicated network of leather bands and iron clips. Putting these outfits on would undoubtedly require a team of assistants: maids clip the headdress in place while tailors edit the radius of the skirt cage, fixing it in place with a small plume of flame. The final result is a splendorous, inconvenient piece of clothing meant to show your wealth and absolutely nothing else. I imagine that flying is near impossible with these garments (or - one can fly, at the expense of their gown) so most dressing and undressing is done within palace walls.

Queen Scarlet and her mother, obsessed with beauty, would likely uphold these garments as a uniform standard within balls and celebrations. Skywings were expected to look as best as they could, with absolutely no exceptions and a very deadly consequence for disobedience. Fashion is always, in some aspect, political; seeing this type of needless extravagance as a working-class Skywing would've undoubtedly sparked anger, and I'm sure the French revolutionaries would agree.

Clothing for the Skywings: past and present

As it tends to, the fashion of the elites will bleed into the world around it - and with the removal of their culture and tradition, the Skywings of the kingdom would most likely follow suit in how they dressed themselves - abandoning traditional garb in fear of Queen Scarlet, and adopting new fashion trends.

These trends would include simplified, practical versions of High-class clothing: petticoats and puff sleeves replace pearl necklaces, fitting in with societal expectations while still being functional. These coats could be used to store day-to-day necessities like gold coins, trinkets or herbal medicines, with the sleeves made from thinly stretched fabric. Some Skywings may choose to embroider their coats and shirts, or even wear a hat - a slightly impractical item which could be used to flaunt one's financial security. While this fashion is nice, I'm sure lots of Skywings would be old enough to remember their traditional wear: some may even have it in their home, tucked away in the attic with other relics of home.

I imagine these garments were much more fluid in shape: made to be beautiful and flyable, they consisted of long fabrics trailing down from the base of one's neck, made from local materials found on the mountain - feathers, wool, flower dyes etc. The clothes themselves were beautifully detailed through pattern, not shape: beads, embroidery and stitching could be used to create a high-class garment, which would be used during weddings or balls. Some hats may have also been present, although these would still be largely difficult to fly with. These clothes probably returned as the Skywing kingdom began to heal, alongside the old traditions buried under tyranny.

When sketching these garments, I looked to traditional Kazakh clothing for inspiration, as both cultures share their mountainous location and use of local material. I understand that Kazakh and French clothing are different fashions from wildly different cultures, and the only reason this really works is because I'm writing in the context of fictional dragon world and not real human world. I considered keeping the fashion solely French, but honestly they're both so beautiful I had to include Kazakh clothing too!

Choosing which cultures to investigate is always the hardest part about making these posts, and so I'm trying to incorporate a lot of diversity as I plan - and maybe even explore one tribe in the lens of multiple cultures.

If you made it all the way down here, thank you so much for reading along! Writing about lore and culture is SO fun, and I really appreciate all of you who've inquired about fashion/culture within the other tribes! These posts take a little bit longer to make, so I'm aiming for one a week but we'll see. To anyone interested, my art contest is still going until the end of June! If you're a regular on this blog you will have heard this too often and want to jump me, but please have mercy.

You can find more info and enter here, in my discord server!

later ヾ(`ヘ´)ﾉﾞ

[dannyriccsystem]

DAD!OSC REQUESTS AT YOUR SERVICE. MAYBE SMTH LIKE MEETING HIS DAUGHTER'S BF FOR THE FIRST TIME AT THE DINNER TABLE OR A NICE FAMILY DAY GOING TO LUNA PARK, THE CITY ETC (IDK IF YOU KNOW WHAT LUNA PARK IS BUT IT'S A POPULAR AUSTRALIAN THEME PARK)

MEET THE PARENTS!

SUMMARY: Your husband is busy with your two daughters. One of them, Harper, is bringing her new boyfriend to dinner, and the other, Isla, needs her hair done… Meanwhile you’re watching the chaos unfold.

WORD COUNT: 1.1K

WARNINGS: Fluff, fluff, fluff, reader is a mother, two daughters, I did not proofread I hate proofreading

FEATURING: Dad!Oscar Piastri x Mom!Reader

NOTE: Sorry if your names. Are any of the daughter’s names. I tried to pick wisely but.. erm. Yeah. Also yes I combined them into one because I thought it would be cute!

KNOCK KNOCK.

“I’LL GET IT, I’LL GET IT-” Harper shouted as she rushed down the stairs, all dressed up for the very important night. You raised your brows as you finished up cooking in the kitchen, lips twisted up into a soft smile at the display of eagerness. It seemed she wanted to ensure she was the first to greet her boyfriend; perhaps the young girl was a little scared of her dad doing it first. You couldn’t blame her, either. Oscar had a heart of gold, but he had been endlessly teasing her for the past week about how strict he would be with this new boy in her life.

Yeah, he made a whole big deal about being scary and intentionally intimidating, but he was currently tucked away in the bathroom trying to style your younger daughter’s hair. You could hear him playfully cooing to the toddler from afar. Just little things like, “Look at how pretty your hair is!” And when she’d complain he’d sigh and mutter a begrudged “anything for my daughters…” He was totally whipped for the three women in his life. Four if you include his own mother.

“Uhm,” You perked up when you heard a new voice from the entrance of the grand kitchen. A boy, just a few inches taller than your eldest, fidgeted with his hands behind his back. “Hello, Mrs. Piastri-!” He fumbled over his words as he brought out a small bouquet of flowers, stretching them out towards you. “I, uh… Got these for you— Well, my mom did, but…”

“Thank you,” You interrupt, saving him from a long explanation neither of you really needed. “They’re lovely…” You trailed off, leaving room for an introduction.

“Luca.”

“Luca. Thank you, Luca.” You scurried off to collect a vase to store your new flowers, passing by the bathroom. On your way back, you poked your head in. Oscar immediately looked over to you with a sheepish expression, which only made you sigh. “Really?”

You daughter, Isla, had her hair pulled into two neat pigtails with ribbons tied around them. She was wearing a pink dress to match— Very cute, but very over the top as well. This wasn’t meant to be that fancy. “Hey, I couldn’t help it! Look at how cute.” The young girl giggled and cooed as her father squished her cheeks in his hands, making weird little noises at her.

“You…” You sighed. “So strange.” But it was cute nonetheless, so you smiled with that fond touch behind it. “Luca’s here. And, hey… Be nice.”

“I’m the dad, I get to scare him a little bit,” He defended himself, picking up Isla and standing. She waved at herself in the mirror, giving a big half-toothless grin. “Your dad did the same to me. And look, we’re married!”

“Yeah, but you kinda needed that talk.”

“What?!”

“You were a preppy rich kid. He took you down a peg. Well deserved. This is a nice kid.”

“We’ll see about that.” You rolled your eyes and carried on back to the kitchen, placing the flowers on the center of the island in their baby blue vase. Oscar was not far behind you, lugging around a very squirmy toddler.

“Can I help with dinner, mom?” Harper questioned from beside you, peeking into the pots and pans on the stove.

“Thank you, sweetheart, but no,” You kissed the top of her head, ruffling her hair affectionately. “Go sit, I’ll bring dinner out in a second. If anything your dad can help.” You whispered the last part like an inside joke, playfully nudging her with your elbow.

She went and sat at the table, right beside her rather nervous boyfriend. Osc offered his help too, but when you declined, he joined everyone else. He set Isla in her high chair right beside him, both opposite of the teenagers in question. Once Isla was situated, slamming her hands against her tray, Oscar’s gaze shifted to the young man, squinting.

“Uhm… Hello, Mr. Piastri,” He greeted with a shaky voice, his hands fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth.

“Dad, this is-”

“Luca. I know.” He smiled, but for some reason it was somewhat scary. You couldn’t fully see the conversation, but you could tell he was already being a little bit of a brat. That’s how dads are, I suppose. “What do you do for work, Luca?”

“Sir, I-… I’m thirteen…” You giggled under your breath. Not long after you came out with a few plates, laying them down in front of everyone. They all seemed to wait until everyone was settled at the table. You sat beside your husband, already digging in to enjoy your meal.

“Hey, I started work young.” Oscar shrugged, taking a bite of his meal and then turning to you. “Delicious as always,” He kissed your cheek, making Harper groan. Oscar was usually the one to cook, but you wanted to tonight. It was a special occasion, which called for one of your special recipes.

“Then can I get a job?” Harper asked, poking at her food with her fork. You gave her the mom look, and she cut up a piece to take a bite. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the food, she just always waited forever to eat and then complained that it was cold.

“No,” He replied firmly as he cut up pieces to put on Isla’s tray, who was squealing and laughing to herself. “Play any sports?”

Luca was trying to eat quietly. You could tell he was intentionally avoiding eye contact, but it was impossible with Oscar boring holes into his skull with his eyes. “Yeah- I’m in karting…”

…

…

You eyed your husband carefully, watching as his previous judgement turned into a bright grin. Harper perked up, squeezing her boyfriend’s hand under the table.

“That’s great!” He said cheerfully, nodding his head. “I started karting at a young age myself. You know, it’s a great future, but make sure you’re being careful out there. There’s only so much to protect you. Always wear a helmet, and be thankful for-”

“Ahem,” You clear your throat, making him shut up. “What he means to say, is that he wishes you luck in your future.”

“Yeah, that.”

“I’m actually a really big fan of yours, sir!” Luca looked a lot more confident now as he sat up straight and looked directly into Oscar’s eyes. “Harper didn’t tell me you were her dad until a few days ago.”

“That’s why he’s so nervous,” Your daughter teased, elbowing him in the side.

“No I’m not!”

“You so totally are.”

They continued to playfully bicker. You looked over to your husband, who acknowledged your gaze by returning it.

“Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” He whispered, leaning in to kiss you on the lips.

…

“Ew, gross!”

[ryusdoll]

dilf!sae who finds himself in your sheets time and time again. he knows he shouldn’t, your too young for him, early twenties and so full of life. but he can’t stop— he’s obsessed, needy for more yet he’d never admit that out loud, and addicted.

you two met at an event, you were bestfriends with this girl who was rich due to her family- and she often invited you to things like this. little did you know professional soccer players go to it. sae was in his mid thirties, getting dragged to these things by his own friends as well. he fit the part considering he was a literal millionaire.

a few words turned into a conversation, and then a conversation became.. a make out session. and we know what that led to.

the first time you had sex with the cold older man was.. intense. nothing like you’d had before. he fucked like he needed to prove a point, like he needed to be deep, deep inside you. and hell he was. you didn’t remember how many positions or rounds you did— all you knew was that by the end of that night you exchanged numbers and had a good limp for a day or two.

the cycle continued, sae couldn’t keep his hands away from you for too long. but he also found himself .. growing fond of you. your little giggles at every sarcastic comment he made, the way you’d tease him about his soccer life, the way you talked about your family in such a good manner… he really liked you.

poor sae didn’t know what to do. you guys had an age gap- a big one. the two of you discussed it before, and he knew where you stood. you said you’re completely fine with the age gap(it turns you on), but he remained in between. not sure if he should or not.

but today, he asked you on a date. a real date. not the quick texts he’d send saying: can you come over? to his penthouse, nope! not this time. he wanted a real date with you, he wanted to treat you to something you deserved. sae also had more than enough money to afford it.

you smiled as you read the message, excited. responding with a quick yes as you two discussed the plan and times.. you were happy with the way things were, and possibly how the future could turn out. sae knew he was too.

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John Walker Headcanons

Random thoughts I have about John Walker. I separated them into SFW and NSFW. These may be elaborated on and expanded on later. If there is a specific headcanon you really want a story about, let me know in the comments or an ask. This may also become an entire NSFW Alphabet as I love writing those.

SFW:

Definitely a control freak. Don't touch or move his stuff without asking first unless you want either a lecture or a very pouty annoyed super soldier. Part of this is due to military training. Part of this is just him desperately needing to be in charge. His room is by far the cleanest, and he will randomly start cleaning if he's anxious.

Rigid in his routines almost to a fault. If he's not following a routine, he doesn't know what to do with himself. His entire life has been about military structure. Now, even if he's not a military officer anymore, he still can't bring himself to move out of his established routines.

Very awkward when you first start dating. The last time he successfully wooed anyone was high school. To say he's a little rusty is an understatement. Expect lots of dorky flirting and bad innuendo. May even some frat boy-esque come ons that almost make your skin crawl.

He tries to show off extra in front of you. You can't reach something? All you have to do is ask. Can't open a jar? He's right there with his hand held out. Need help carrying in groceries? He can take them all in one trip. If you come into the gym while he's in there, he will stop what he's doing to pick up even heavier weights in hopes that you notice.

Has a bit of a dumb blonde streak to him. May actually be really intelligent but will say the absolute dumbest things sometimes. Things that leave the rest of the team staring and speechless. Prime example being his “we're running out of space?” comment at the end of Thunderbolts.

100% gets jealous of your celebrity crushes. He knows it's stupid and that you having crushes is completely normal, but he can't help it. He wants to be your number 1 all the time. He needs to be your number 1, your first choice. Even if it's some married A lister you would never meet in a thousand years. He can't stand the thought of you being with someone else. Of you picking someone over him just like so many others in his life have.

The Georgja boy southern drawl comes out when he's turned on or feeling frisky. The whole team has learned this against their will, and all it takes is an “ain't” or a “darlin'” and they are shooing you behind closed doors before things progress. It's created a bit of a Pavlovian response in you whenever you hear it.

At first, he doesn't want to be left alone with his son when he gets visitation. Somehow, the team is surprisingly good with kids and helps get him comfortable. Bob watches SpongeBob or other cartoons with his son. Yelena brings out the guinea pigs to play with. Alexei is the king of storytime and also trying to help make up for some of his own fatherly shortcomings. Ava gravitates towards the arts and crafts, especially crayons and watercolor. Bucky teaches him games he used to play as a kid. He may also start reading the kid on The Hobbit. After a while, John can do it by himself and feels more confident as a dad, but by that point, everyone is a part of the family.

He really wants more kids once he's learned he's not totally shit at being a dad. He grew up with the idea of the white picket fence and 2.5 kids in the suburbs or even a farm in the country somewhere. That's still what he wants, even if it didn't come as easily as he was promised. He desperately wants a happy family. You renewed his hope that maybe someday he could have it. This correlates directly into NSFW headcanon #9 - breeding kink.

Even though he received a dishonorable discharge and was stripped of his rank and benefits, he still has his Army dress uniform hanging in his closet and his fatigues along with his tags, medals, and other mementos in a box under his bed. Even his West Point diploma is in there. They were a part of who he was, and he still isn't quite sure of who he is if he isn't a soldier. He looks through the box a lot, especially when he's feeling down.

The only thing he leaves out in the open all the time as a reminder of that life is the photo of him and Lemar that Mrs. Hoskins gave him. He also still talks to Lemar when he's feeling depressed or just wishes he was there. He doesn't know if Lemar can hear him, but he hopes he can. He was raised in the church, and even if he's not sure he believes it anymore, he likes to think Lemar is watching over him. Still by his side even from heaven.

He hates it when he cries. It makes him feel weak. He tries to stuff down all his feelings, and this has manifested in the man we see in Thunderbolts. He tends to stew in his own emotions, and you have to call him out and confront him on it. Otherwise, he will not address it. It helps to remind him that that behavior is what got him there in the first place and that if he wants to grow as a person, he has to change. You will constantly be reminding him that failing at something isn't necessarily the end of the world and that crying or admitting his feelings is not failing.

NSFW:

His body count is low. I'm talking low end of single digits. Yes, he was married and has a kid, but he also married his high school sweetheart. If they both weren't virgins when they got together, he had probably only been with one or two other women. If he's been with anyone since, and I firmly believe that's a very strong if, it was a one night stand or two.

I firmly believe he probably hasn't had sex with anyone since the divorce. He probably avoided it for a while in hopes that he could win Olivia back, and he really only wanted her. After he realized it was really over, the depression took most of the desire he had left for sex. People also tended to avoid him like the plague after the flag smashers thing. So it's not like he had women lining up for the newly single dime store Captain America.

Because of his relative inexperience, you may end up having to teach him stuff in the bedroom. Especially if you are into anything kinky. I feel like him and Olivia were probably pretty vanilla when it came to sex. He will also get really flustered when you try to talk about sex with him. He's pretty game to try whatever you want. Just don't make him talk about it.

We've all collectively decided that he has a massive praise kink. Not just in the bedroom but in all areas of his life. This is not a new thing by any means, but he never really thought of it as a kink until you called it that. Tell him how good he fucks you and he'll start purring. Tell him he's such a good boy and worthy of it and his brain will completely melt.

Once you uncork the bottle, he will be pretty insatiable. He's been backed up for a while and has a lot of energy to expend on amorous activities. Thanks to the super soldier serum, he's also going multiple rounds every time. You will be sore after sex the first handful of times simply because he's so energetic.

I think there is a distinct possibility he's accidentally bruised your cervix when he forgot about his enhanced strength and speed in the heat of the moment. He didn't exactly have a ton of sexual experience after the serum. Especially not with someone new. He was horrified and a little proud of himself all the same time.

He loves you talking dirty to him and will encourage you to keep talking. Talking about sex can get him a little flustered in normal circumstances, but if you start talking dirty, he's immediately ready to blow. He still can't really believe all the filthy things that come out of your mouth, but he hangs on every fucking word. After a while he'll even start talking dirty in return.

Sucker for fancy lingerie, but he prefers you in just one of his shirts. He loves seeing you all wrapped up like a present in satin and lace, anything sheer he has a particular soft spot for, but seeing you fresh out of the shower bare legs in one of his old t-shirts makes him practically feral. He discovered this even before you got together when your mission bag went AWOL and you had to borrow his shirt. He swore he was so hard he nearly passed out from lack of blood to his brain that whole mission.

Once the thought is in his head, his breeding kink will go from 0-100 at light speed. Olivia was pregnant while he was in the midst of a depression, so he kicks himself for not letting himself enjoy it. Especially once you start showing his hand is constantly on your belly. Talking to you the entire time you're in bed about how sexy you are all swollen with him and how he's gonna be such a good daddy for you. Before you have the baby he's already talking about looking forward to knocking you up again. Although he may worry too much about hurting you during penetrative sex in your last trimester, he's happy to help satiate you with his fingers or tongue.

He is a bit of a pillow princess when he's feeling depressed. Normally, he likes being the one in charge and doesn't mind doing most of the work. When he's down, he just wants you to ride him and talk sweet filthy nothings to him. His praise kink is turned up a notch even higher than normal, too. Tell him how good he feels. Tell him how big his cock is. Tell him that you couldn't want anyone else the way you want him. Just let him lie there and enjoy it.

He's not a big fan of PDAs, but practically suction cups himself to you behind closed doors or no one else is around. When he discovers cockwarming, he wants it every time you are alone. Practically begging you to just let him put in. Promising he'll behave and let you finish your book when you know in reality he'll start humping you after maybe 5 minutes.

--------------------------------

You caught him watching porn and jerking off once, and he found it incredibly hot. He was a little humiliated but loved the way you teased him about how desperate he was and that he was a naughty boy for not asking first. How you would have helped him and maybe you should touch yourself too. He came in less than 2 minutes after you started teasing. He wants it to happen again but isn't sure how to bring it up. He is genuinely unsure if it was the humiliation or the thought of mutual masturbation that got him off so quickly.

There will probably be a part 2 to this once I think about it more.

John Walker taglist: @sareim123122

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