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giuseppe-yuki · 3 months ago

Text

money, money, money

normal!max verstappen x billionaire!reader

w.c.: 6.8k

warnings: curse words, allusions to sex, RUDE people, sprinkle of angst (?)

summary: you introduce max to the good and bad sides of having money.

a/n: roughly inspired by crazy rich asians- one of my fav movies!!!

edit: bonus birthday oneshot :)

photo credits from pinterest :)

it was no secret to the majority of the world that your bloodline was rich- filthy rich. with your father’s side of the family owning the equivalent of half a small country and your mother’s side of the family the owners of several major corporations, you had no lack of paper bills in your bank accounts.

along with your siblings and your cousins, you grew up pampered, only going to your country’s best schools and wearing only the latest fashion. you were picked up by a chauffeur in a personal sleek black bentley and had a team of maids at your beck and call. hell, you were even granted access to a private jet in case you wanted to fly somewhere exotic just for fun!

as a child without a sense of the value of money, you thought all children lived like this. every birthday, you expected only the very best from your parents. on your sixth birthday, your parents closed down disneyland and let the kids rampage throughout the park. for your cousin’s grade school graduation, your aunt bought an entire cruise liner (company) and held a week-long party on the water to celebrate. when your little brother passed his driver’s license, your father bought him a customized ferrari pista (that he might have crashed three days in) as his first car. when christmas came by, your grandma flew in your entire family to her private island in first class, and surprised all the kids with their very own mini play homes in the backyard that were each the size of a small apartment.

slowly, as you matured, you realized how lucky you were. while eating the caviar and champagne at the expensive gala, the homeless were out in the cold, eating the leftover crusts in oily crumpled pizza boxes that they fished out of the trash. each dollar in your bank accounts could go to sick children whose parents couldn’t pay the hospital bills for, and instead, they were going to mega yachts that sat in the monaco bay most of the year. besides, wouldn’t your parents' money run out some time?

it seemed that many of your cousins and siblings didn’t give a fuck. you watched them exponentially abuse their power, blowing through thousands of grands for luxury cars they drove only once and exclusive rooftop parties where they swam in pools of champagne. one by one, you saw them drop out of school and spend every day as the life of the party. once they rapidly grew out of the excuse of being “young, naive, and not knowing better” their reputation to the general public became “spoiled and out-of-touch” with society.

you of course, weren’t totally exempt from this. you had to admit that you occasionally spent a few k on a nice little bag for yourself, or had an occasional trip to bali for some sun. however, you focused much more on your studies and helping others than partying. instead of spending your draining your mother’s company assets, wouldn’t it be better to have your own? why wield a black card embellished with your father’s name in gold when it could be your own name? with your own money, you could also donate huge amounts to people in need- all under your name.

slowly, you built up your own credible business using the knowledge you gained, and it soon skyrocketed into a world-wide profitable company.

even with such success however, all your siblings and cousins laughed at you. running a company? they had chuckled, in their balenciaga suits and miu miu dresses. why do such tedious work when you can just marry into a rich family?

rich family, you scoff, looking at one of your cousins at the yearly family party that your family threw. though she was dressed to the nines, hair done up and jewelry glistening on her neck, she looked absolutely miserable. her husband, that everyone knew she had just married “for the money” stood on the opposite end of the room, flirting unashamedly with a rather uncomfortable looking waiter. that was really funny, considering that your cousin had been bragging about how much her husband loved her at the last function. she had even shoved a picture of her next to a humongous flower bouquet into your face, teasingly stating how “you never had this experience before, huh?”

your brother wasn’t that much different. although he looked rather successful with a big quarter of your mother’s company stocks, you knew that he was in major debt from burning through his bank accounts gambling at casinos around the world. he paraded around the room with his wife, who hung on his arm so proudly, but only because she didn’t know a thing. if you hinted at your brother’s little “problem,” you knew that she would have the divorce papers ready by afternoon the next day.

as the party went on and the alcohol broke down the painstakingly-built facades of your family’s relationships, you began to stop envying their so-called perfect lives. you realized that all they knew about was money. what did they know about love?

love to you was a kind man with blue eyes that crinkled whenever he smiled at you, light brown hair that was oh-so-soft to run through with your hands, and a soothing voice with a twinge of an accent and slight lisp. love smelled like his soft cologne, and tasted like the spiced sweetbreads he would bake on the weekends.

max was the total opposite from the cocky and money-hungry douchebags from your home country that were more attracted to your wallet and family influence, which was what you liked about him. even the way you met him was different. usually, the men would make it all about themselves, trying to impress you with their “achievements” (owning three ferraris is not a keystone achievement, david) or throwing technical jargon at you to sound smart. if you somehow invited them on a second date, they always showed up late and would tear off their clothes the second they got in the house, expecting to get to third base immediately. however, you met max through a friend of a friend at a small party in monaco. he could barely look you in the eyes and stuttered through his sentences, which you found quite refreshing compared to the arrogant guys that you usually encountered. on your first date, he got you some rather wilty looking tulips, but also brought some homemade bread that you swore was the best you ever ate. on the second date, he yapped about all the flags of all the countries he knew, but you didn’t mind because he let you ramble your own interests after. before long, you moved in with him in his apartment on the edge of monaco, and had the honor of calling him your boyfriend.

so now, lying in his arms on his tiny bed, you felt more at home than ever.

the sunlight streams in through the windows above his bed, casting a glow across his face and filtering through his impossibly long eyelashes. you take a minute to admire the angelic scene, before one his cats leaps off of who-knows-where and jumps on his face.

he yelps, and unwinds his arm from around you to softly push who you assume to be sassy away from his head.

you flash a glare at sassy for ruining such a nice moment, before picking her up and attempt to “throw” her off the bed.

unfortunately, max yanks her out of your hands before you are able to.

“hey!” he says in a chastising tone. “be nice to sassy. i’m sure she didn’t mean to.”

max sits up on the bed and gives sassy a few head scratches before placing a kiss on her soft head. sassy meows at you, which you swear is in a mocking tone. across the room, jimmy sprints over and takes a spot next to max, purring for head scratches too, effectively pushing you off the bed.

you didn’t understand how your boyfriend couldn’t see that his cats were literally devils. you were basically subject to their abuse every day (i.e. random ankle attacks, knocking over all you fragile items, unplugging your devices, cat hair in your food, and the worst one, stealing max away from you). scowling, you surrender your rightful spot on the bed and pad into the kitchen in your slippers to start the coffee.

it’s not until both the coffee and breakfast is ready when max finally enters the kitchen, now freshly dressed. the cats scamper around his feet, curling lovingly around his ankles.

“sorry about that, baby.” he says, pulling out his chair and taking a seat in front of his plate of food. “jimmy and sassy just wanted some love.”

you roll your eyes before settling down into your own seat.

he spears a few sausage links and eggs into his mouth before glancing at the clock. eyes widening, he shoves the rest of the food into his mouth and chugs down the hot coffee.

“so sorry, i have to run!” he sputters out, “i’m going to be late to my engineering meeting!”

he dashes to the bedroom to grab his bag before running back into the kitchen to press a kiss to your cheek in goodbye.

“have fun at work too, baby!” he yells before the front door slams closed.

sighing, you finish your plate before washing the dishes in the sink. he was always late for his engineering job at a small office in downtown monaco. max somehow always got to his office in time though, but probably because he raced his little yellow renault clio rs on the streets like he was some type of formula one driver. meanwhile, you had your “work” at home (which typically meant one phone call to your secretary to make sure everything was running smoothly, a quick scroll through your company accounts, and then netflix on the couch).

from the time you met to the time you started dating, you never got to telling max about your family history or your job. it was actually kind of unbelievable that he didn’t notice actually, even when all your clothes were covertly designer and heels were always red bottoms, or when you seemingly traveled out of the country every other weekend for company meetings. however, he never asked, so you never told.

well, that was until he came home that night.

his footsteps echo on the ground as he walks out from the bathroom, but stops before he gets into the kitchen

“hey baby,” he says, tilting his head. “what’s this?”

you stop stirring the pasta sauce, looking back to see your freshly showered boyfriend questioningly glancing at your open macbook on the couch.

you must have forgotten to close out of your company bank account tab. quickly, you throw the spoon aside, slam the laptop shut, and throw it to the side.

“that’s nothing, baby.” you say, rushing back to the kitchen and stirring the bubbling red mixture again.

“oh-kay…” he says, walking up behind you and reaching over to help strain the pasta noodles.

while straining the water out in the sink, he flashes you a quick glance. “was it like…” he whispers quietly. “adult material or something?? is that why you didn’t want me to see it?”

what?

you look back him, an unimpressed look at your face. “adult material, max???” you repeat back at him. “no. i was not watching adult material on my work laptop.”

“okay, whatever you say, baby.” max says, clearly not believing you. clearing his throat, he continues. “so, um… anyways, my coworker george was talking about how he met his boyfriend alex's parents over the weekend, and i realized that i never met your parents before. do you think we can maybe pay them a visit?"

you freeze, halfway sliding out a plate of garlic bread from the oven.

“i- um, don’t think that’s wise, maxie.” you reply quietly.

your boyfriend wrinkles his brow. he stops the plating of the noodles and walks over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“is it…is it because they are assholes?” he asks, looking at you seriously. “cause it’s okay if they are- i understand, because my dad…my dad is not very kind either.”

you can’t help to think about your family in your home country. you could never take your maxie there. they would rip him to shreds, degrading him for being rather plain and destitute compared to them. you would never want to put your boyfriend through your parents, either, who would probably criticize him for wanting to marry you just for the money, even if max didn’t know a goddamn thing about how you earned your funds.

you rub your face. “no, it’s not that.” you sigh, “i- mean- it’s just complicated over there in my home country. i don’t want you to feel pressure or uncomfortable-”

max cuts you off with a hug, and presses a kiss to your cheek. “i really don’t mind, baby. i’d really like to meet the people who made such a kind and beautiful person like you.”

you blush a little at his words. even if you have an uneasy feeling to your stomach, you nod lightly. it can’t be that bad, right?

if you were to take max over to your home country, there was no doubt he would be exposed to your massive fame and influence there. to slowly ease him into the more luxurious side of your life, you first introduce the luxuries of a private jet the day you take off from the airport.

“a private JET???” your boyfriend shrieks, looking at his speciality boarding pass.

hurriedly, you shush him to avoid the glares of other travelers within a yelling distance of you both.

“max, please be quiet.” you hiss into his ear. “yes, it says private jet.”

maneuvering your cart with your lv-branded luggage to the side of the terminal, along with max’s one small carry-on and two pet cages with the reincarnations of the devil inside, you pull out your phone to check the location of the driver who would take you to the separate private-jet entrance.

like magic, he materializes behind you, tapping you on the shoulder.

politely, he takes your horde of luggages and max’s items before politely gesturing towards a massive black lincoln that was definitely not parked there before.

“this way miss,” he says curtly, before reaching forward to open the car door for you.

max, snapping out of his confusion, snaps his hand out first and roughly yanks the door open, and nearly hitting both you and the driver.

“i’ll open the door for my own girlfriend, thanks!” he retorts, glaring suspiciously at the driver, who just shrugs and starts loading the luggage into the back of the car.

when max climbs into the spacious back of the lincoln, you can’t help but giggle into your hand.

“max, you need to relax,” you laugh, placing a calming hand on max’s leg. “he’s my driver. it’s his job to open the door, okay?”

your boyfriend sniffs, pouting a little.

“fine.”

after boarding the jet and ascending safely into the air, you settle into your padded chair. meanwhile, max runs around the jet like a little kid, pointing out the “special features,” much to the amusement of the staff.

“omg, baby, look!” he yells, pointing at a wooden-paneled door behind your chair. “the bathroom is huge!”

you nod, and hum in agreement, sparing a quick glance at max, who was opening and closing the door as if it would change what was behind it.

he then charges toward a cabinet near the middle of the plane, which is stuffed to the brim with your favorite snacks. “wow!” he shouts, before sprinting towards a similar cabinet further down, which you know is the alcohol storage area.

there’s a moment of silence before max steps into view with three gin and tonics and one of your favorite drinks in hand. he carefully sets them down in front of you, batting away a disgruntled-looking bartender who held a half-open bottle of gin that you assumed he was in the middle of pouring when max snatched the bottle away.

you apologize profusely to the bartender while max watches on, straight up chugging his drinks.

“this is wild!!” he whispers, pointing to the cups in front of him.

no more than five minutes after sending the bartender away with a little tip, max has already finished two of his three gin and tonics and was already bounding out of his seat to explore the rest of the plane.

once you hear his exclamations of joy from the back of the plane, you know he has discovered the master bedroom.

before you have a chance to take a sip of your own drink, max basically pounces on you and drags you towards the private bedroom. your boyfriend pushes you onto the soft bed, yells out the door.

“give us a little bit of privacy, okay?” he shouts to no one in particular, before slamming the door shut.

he turns back to your figure lying spread-eagle in the bed, and wiggles his eyebrows.

max is the first one to talk after you both lay on the bed, lips swollen and cheeks red.

“so…?” he says, running a hand down your back.

“so… what?” you ask, looking up at him from your position sprawled on top of him. from your point of view, you could feel the slight rise and fall of his chest, his slightly damp hair, and the way his blue, blue eyes study your face.

“so, when were you going to tell me that you were…like…rich?” he replies.

you maneuver yourself to a sitting position on your boyfriend’s lap, looking him nervously.

“well…” you remark, twiddling your thumbs. this wasn’t the way you thought you were going to break the news to max.

“i grew up more- comfortably in my home country, thanks to my family and their connections. i was lucky to not have to worry about money at all. when i became a little older, i separated myself from the rest of my siblings and cousins to form and take care of my own company. then, on a business trip, i met you and then.. yeah, you know what happens next.”

an awkward silence fills the room, with max digesting the information and you toying with a stray thread from the bedcovers.

your boyfriend opens his mouth slowly.

“a company?” he questions, turning to you. “what company?”

you scramble off the bed for your phone, and type something quick in the search bar. when you find what you are looking for, you rotate the phone towards your boyfriend, the glowing screen reflecting on his features.

it only takes one or two seconds for max to scan and decipher the words on the screen.

“YOU’RE THE CEO OF REDBULL??” max shouts.

when the wheels of your private jet hit the bumpy runway, it was midnight. your pilot’s voice crackles on the intercom, politely notifying you that you have arrived, and are free to disembark whenever you’d like. outside, you can see several workers unloading your luggage, along with jimmy and sassy in their pet carriers.

you turn to max, who was intensely staring at his screen, unmoving. you assume he was still in the middle of his fervent wikipedia dive of you and your family’s entire history that he insisted on learning, once he got over the initial shock.

“max,” you say, nudging him slightly.

he doesn’t budge, eyes trained like an eagle on his screen.

you pull on sweatshirt before nudging him again, this time a little harder. “max, come on, we gotta go.”

he snaps up, and pockets his phone before mock saluting you. “yes, of course, miss ceo! whatever you say!”

you roll your eyes. max was a little extra sometimes.

he trails behind you obediently as you climb down the stairs to get off the plane, and into a sleek black limousine.

before long, you find yourself on the familiar streets and freeways that you used to frequent when you were younger. it feels the slightest bit nostalgic, so different from the streets of monaco that you became used to thanks to max.

you look back to find max tilting his head at you.

“where to now, miss ceo?” he asks in a curious tone.

you smile.

”i know just the place.”

even when it was close to three am, the downtown streets were still packed with people. vendors engulfed the street sides, selling delicious soups and snacks beckoned to people, and little shops with bright signs advertised souvenirs, clothing, stationary, and everything in between. the car inches to a stop when you come upon a familiar old building that you remember visiting often as a child. bright glittery letters on the storefront and windows exclaim, “lombardi ice cream shop.” a line of people streams out the door, an ode to the delicious creamy treats that the shop has been selling for years. god, you could basically taste the ice cream on your tongue already.

you practically leap out of the car, dragging max with you towards the front of the shop. the red bottoms of your heels click against the concrete, turning many heads in the crowd along the sidewalk. you hear gasps of shock and a few whispers of your name along the crowd. they automatically parts like moses and the red sea when you get closer. max hesitates, wide eyed, at the edge of the crowd.

”c’mon,” you laugh, taking his hand and leading him through the people.

an old woman, back hunched with age, waddles out of the kitchen and greets you warmly when you arrive at the counter. without realizing, a warm feeling spreads across your chest. she was basically like a second mother to you, considering you spent your entire childhood frequenting this shop with your cousins and siblings. whenever you visited your home country, you would always make sure to pop by her shop (not that she needed your business- her lines always curled around the block, day and night).

“ahh!! welcome back, honey,” she exclaims, wiping her wrinkled hands on her apron. “you’ve gotten so beautiful!” throwing a glance at a shy max hesitantly hidden behind you, she sends you an eyebrow raise. “ah, and i see you brought a boy back huh?”

you reach over to give the weathered old woman a hug, blushing. “hello, momma lella! yes, this is my boyfriend max.”

max waves a polite hello, one hand still nervously holding yours.

the elderly woman smiles kindly at max, not hiding how she looks him up and down. “well, i approve!” she states, giving you a thumbs up and a wink. “polite and handsome!”

without another word, she grabs the largest size cup and fills it to the brim with creamy chocolate ice cream. sprinkling a good amount of sprinkles and shoving two spoons into the cup, she offers it to you.

“on the house!”

you and max sit on the sidewalk with the cup of ice cream, watching people walk by and cars zoom through the traffic. occasionally, max takes his spoon and shovels a large helping of chocolate ice cream into his mouth.

“you look like you’re really enjoying the ice cream,” you state, noticing the chocolate smeared over the corners of his mouth.

max just smiles at you in the way he always does, with the dimples and the crinkle in his eyes.

suddenly, your moment is ruined when a flash goes off in your face.

max jerks back, rubbing his eyes, not used to the invasive cameras that made up your childhood.

you whip around towards the flash, seeing a small herd of paparazzi smiling wickedly. a rare spotting of you in back in your home country for the first time in years? that was payday for them. a flash of anger shoots through you, causing you to throw your wooden spoon at their expensive cameras. unfortunately, it just bounces off of the arm of a short looking man carrying a heavy duty camera.

“what the fuck is wrong with you?” you yell, shooing them away from max. “can you just leave us alone for one second?”

bothersome paparazzi like this was common when you grew up in a family rich with drama and money. you recall them camping in front of your house, shutters clicking once they saw a sign of movement. whatever mistake you made, like tripping over a small rock or fighting with your sister over a doll, was publicized and dramatized into unrecognizable stories on gossip magazines that were popular in your home country. it was a pity that this was max’s first introduction to these pests.

you pull max with you as you shove your way roughly through the paparazzi. they deserved it if you accidentally smashed someone’s lens.

max stumbles behind you.

“wha-?” he says, holding the half-empty chocolate ice cream. “where are we going?”

you huff. “away from those wannabe photographers- i hate them so much.”

you flip open your phone to call your chauffeur, but your app notifies you it would take a total of ten minutes for him to weave through traffic to get to you both. in the distance, the paparazzi raise their cameras again, shutters clicking as they photograph your pissed off expression and a dumbfounded max next to you. you can practically see the headlines tomorrow- ‘bratty billionaire back in country!!’

like a godsend, a futuristic-looking car rumbles to life next to you. that will probably get you home and away from these fuckers fast, right? hurriedly, you march over to the disgruntled middle-aged man in the passengers’ seat.

“five million for your car- right now.” you say, dead serious.

the man’s eyes widen comically large.

“five mi-“

you cut him off quickly, seeing the paparazzi darting closer to max, who was still holding the ice cream and eyeing the cameras wearily.

“yes, five million. i’ll mail you the check.”

without another word, the man tosses you the keys and hefts himself out of the car. you leap into the drivers seat just as he gets out, and jam your finger on the window down button to beckon max into the car immediately.

the moment he sits down on the expensive-looking leather seats, you rev the engine and leave the paparazzi behind in the dust.

it’s not until you are halfway back to your penthouse when max finally speaks.

“this is a super nice car,” he states, running his hand against the interior side panels.

you look around, really noticing the detailings of the car. the sides look like they are made with some carbon fiber material, and it seemed like it didn’t even have a door handle- just straps you pull on the corner of the dashboard.

”yeah, i guess so,” you admit. “i just bought this off of that dude back there in order to get away from the damn paparazzi.”

max wrinkles his brows.

“you bought-?? what??? you know this is an aston martin valkyrie, right?”

the next morning, when the sun shines through the skyline windows lining your penthouse, you keep your promise by instructing one of your staff to send the promised check to the random guy on the street (fernando, he said his name was). your boyfriend scrolls idly on his phone next to you, probably scrolling through your family’s lengthy wikipedia page again. his cats stamp around your white bedsheets as if they owned the place. you think about what you both could do today. perhaps visit the children’s hospital? before moving to monaco, you frequented many small hospitals, bringing gifts for the children. it always felt good seeing the sick kids light up with joy. or, you could go shopping, although you did spend a little bit much on the random car yesterday. or-

before you can complete your thought, a familiar ringtone lights up the screen of your phone. your mother’s name lights up your phone, as if taunting you. before you second-guess yourself, you smash your finger into the green ‘answer’ button and place the phone to your ear.

your mother’s voice flows through the speakers, sending a wave of nostalgia throughout your body.

“darling!” the voice hums, “why didn’t you tell me that you were back in your home country? i had to find out over the silly little paparazzi pictures on the newspapers!”

damn it, you think, cursing silently in your head. it seemed that the paparazzi from yesterday night had probably sold your pictures to some trashy gossip magazine that had caught the attention of your mother. that meant that you had to face your family sooner or later.

“hello, mother,” you reply curtly, trying to avoid the topic. “how may i help you?”

your mother tuts through the speakerphone. “oh, your own mother can’t just call to say hello?”

you groan. “no- i mean yes-“

your mother cuts you off, laughing. “i’m kidding, darling. i just wanted to let you know that i’m hosting a party at our estate tomorrow, to celebrate your arrival! you’ve been in monaco for a god-awful long time. your cousins and siblings will be coming too- i’m sure they’ll all excited to see you after your hiatus in monaco!”

you hesitate before responding. your first instinct was to say no, because everybody knew full well that the only reason your cousins and siblings even bothered to show up at these kind of events is to save face and show off their new ridiculously expensive clothing and cars, not to welcome you. however, this also gave you a chance for max to meet your parents, like he wanted back in monaco. it isn’t a hard choice when you agree to meet the next day.

max revs the engine once again as he pulls the valkyrie to stop in front of the valet at the front of your family’s estate.

through the tinted windows of the car, you see one of your snobby cousins, dressed in an jeweled gown, jump at the loud sound and clutch her husband’s arm tighter however, her husband ignores her to get a good look at your aston martin supercar, which makes you laugh. to your surprise, he is not the only one. a few other family members gather around, admiring the hypercar.

in the passenger’s seat, max’s mischievous grin slowly turns into a frown of nervousness as he spots the crowd of people gathering around you both. you know it must look intimidating, meeting your significant other’s family, especially when they had such high expectations of you. you place a kiss on his cheek.

“you ready, maxie?” you ask, patting his shoulder comfortingly.

he nods, before opening the car door.

like the gentleman he is, max quickly hurries over to the passenger’s side of the car to help you out of the car. you gladly take his hand, and step out of the vehicle daintily. straight away, you can hear the confused mutterings and jealous glares of your family members start up, which follow the both of you into the house.

like expected, your childhood home is decorated a little over the top. people mingle under crystal chandeliers around staircases draped with real flowers. from the second living room, music drifts out that sounds suspiciously like martin garrix. a fancy bar is set up a room that was usually the dining room, with a bottle of every single alcohol you can ever think of. the courtyard, usually empty save a few plants, was turned into outdoor buffet bar, complete with a five story cake and massive chocolate fountain.

once inside, max attempts to introduce himself to the first friendly-looking family member that he sees, which happens to be your aunt on your mother’s side. he sticks out his hand, a smile gracing his face.

“hi, my name is max,” he says, “i’m your niece’s boyfriend.”

your aunt nods politely, shaking his hand.

“hello max,” she says, visibly studying him, “what are you, a ceo? businessman? sports star?”

”auntie!” you say, shocked, cutting max off from his response. that rude bitch. although she looked relatively kind from the outside, all she really cared about anyone was their power and money. which was probably why your cousin married a mega popstar that was away half the time. like the rest of your family, money trumped true love. “you can’t just start a conversation like that!”

max shakes his head, “no, no, it’s alright. i’m an engineer.”

“ah,” your aunt says, knowingly. taking a sip of her champagne, she continues, “head engineer, huh? of what company?”

thinking he might have misheard her, max corrects her, “oh- no, not head engineer, just an engineer, like in an office.”

your great-aunt’s friendly demeanor automatically drops.

“just an engineer?” she responds, coldly.

you notice how max’s face falls the slightest bit, before he plasters a fake polite smile on his face. he shuffles uncomfortably, glancing at you, as if saying, did i say something wrong?

before you can say something rather rude to your aunt, a hand clasps your shoulder. turning around, your brother beams at you.

“sister!” he exclaims. “i haven’t seen you in a hot sec. too busy partying in monaco, huh? or doing your silly little business things for redbull?”

he then eyes max, to which he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “who’s this, huh? your boyfriend?”

”yes,” you snap, still a little pissed from your aunt’s rude reaction.

your brother puts his hands up jokingly, in a surrender position. “damn, okay, no need to be defensive.”

he sticks out his hand to your boyfriend, who takes it gladly.

“what’s up, dude,” your brother says, shaking max’s hand. “i saw you pull up with my sister in that sick aston martin valkyrie! you must have some insane connections- the waitlist for that baby is like years long.”

your aunt answers before your boyfriend can.

“there’s no way he could have bought that car- he’s just an office engineer at some company at who knows where,” she says pointedly.

hearing this, your brother’s impressed look turns into a sneer of disdain. he steps back from max in disgust, as if he had just turned into some horrible monster. he chuckles at you.

”wow, sister, you’ve outdone yourself huh? an office engineer?”

your family, slowly becoming aware of something going on, turns towards the scene. a wide-eyed martin garrix turns off the booming music in the back.

you shove your brother further away from max, causing the glass of champagne to spill onto your brother’s designer suit.

“what’s wrong with you?” you exclaim angrily. “at least he has a job, unlike you!”

ignoring the bubbling liquid staining his suit and your enraged expression, he turns toward max, still eyeing him with disgust. “how pathetic, leeching off of my sister’s money as a ceo? ha, you probably used her card to buy that valkyrie, didn’t you?”

next to you, stunned into silence, max’s blue eyes begin to fill with tears.

behind you, your aunt lets out a cackle of laughter, along with a few members of the crowd.

you just about launch yourself at your brother, wanting more than anything to bash his head in.

as if it couldn’t get worse, your mother pushes through the crowd gathered around you both, and grabs your arm before you can make contact with your brother.

“hey!” she yells, yanking you back. “what is going on here?”

your brother grins, pointing at max. “your precious daughter went and got herself a little gold digger boyfriend- and look, he’s crying!”

you glance over to max, heart sinking. like your brother said, he had a tear running down his face, and he shook a little with embarrassment. it reminded you of a story that max once told you, how his father had often upset him as a child when he was forced to do karting. an anger flared inside of you. max had only wanted to be a good boyfriend and introduce himself to your family, but was in turn ridiculed in front of a crowd by your hypocrite brother.

your mother turns to max, then turns to you.

“is this true, darling?” she asks, tilting her head. “does he exploit you for money?”

does max exploit you for money? you can hardly even comprehend the ridiculous sentence. you roughly yank your arm out of your mother’s grasp and march over to max. you lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a squeeze.

you turn towards your chuckling brother. he won’t be laughing soon.

“you’re really one to talk, brother! you think you’re hot shit, with a large chunk of mother’s company stocks. well, wouldn't it be a shame if everyone knew that you are in debt from your uncontrollable gambling problem, hmm? i wonder what your wife feels about that?”

you take comfort in the way the smug smile drops from your brother’s face, now replaced with a withering glare. the silent crowd gathered around the scene lets out a gasp, in light of this news. their focus now was trained on your brother instead of max.

“and you!” you exclaim, turning to your aunt. “since you think the word gold digger is so funny, auntie, wouldn’t you like to know how your own daughter is one, huh?”

your aunt jerks back, not used to the crowd’s attention trained on her, along with your harsh words.

”yeah,” you continue, “if you would stop judging people based on their worth in money, you might have been able to see that all she does is spend her husband‘s money on inane things in order to ignore his multiple affairs!”

from the back of the room, you hear your cousin burst into tears while her mother, your aunt, standing in front of you, turns as red as a tomato.

gently, you lead max towards the gilded gold front door. your family gives you judgemental looks as you make your way through the crowd. turning back one last time before you step out, you address the crowd. “don’t think any of you guys are any better. all you lot do is leech off of trust fund money!”

max stays silent all the way to your penthouse, as do you. after a hot shower, you bundle him up in your soft fluffy blankets until he looks the puft marshmallow man. you can’t help but feel terrible. he silently shuffles towards you, which you respond by pulling his head against your chest. jimmy and sassy watch wearily from a distance on the carpet.

you are the first to cut through the silence.

“i am so sorry that my family did that to you, maxie.”

he doesn’t answer, but the new tears that soak your expensive silk pajama set does the answering for him.

you run your hand through his damp strands of light brown hair, and rub his back comfortingly.

he pulls back from your embrace to wipe his eyes briefly.

“why do you love me?” he hiccups, cheeks wet with tears. “like- i have no money, two cats that you hate, and- and- a tiny apartment-“

“max!” you say, cutting him off from his ramblings. “listen to me.”

you look into his watery eyes, eyelashes wet with tears.

”i really don’t care if you lived in a literal dirt hole with no job, or if you were a formula one world champion. i would love you no matter what. i love your blue eyes and your pouty lips and your lisp, and your cologne, and the bread that you bake, and your little apartment and even though it may not seem like it, i love your stupid cats too.“

he chuckles wetly at the last part of your sentence.

you kiss the top of his head.

”you don’t know how much i love you, max emillian verstappen.”

a devious grin slips onto his face. he shoots you a sultry look.

“show me.”

and you do.

later, when max lays asleep on the bed, love bites on his neck, face slightly flushed, and back bare, you get up to fetch your phone.

the person you seek is only a few taps away. he picks up on the second ring, politely greeting you even though it was an ungodly hour. you tell him your request, but he hesitates slightly.

”are you sure-“

you cut your financial advisor off as politely as possible.

“yes, that’s right. i would like to buy the entirety of my mother’s companies and my father’s estates.”

the sounds of pencil scratching paper fills your ears before your financial advisor lets out a sound of approval.

“right away, ma’am!”

a/n: APOLOGIES for my week-long hiatus!! take this fic as an apology... your normal spinoff series! scheduling will resume shortly <3

also let me know if you have a better name for this piece- i was STRUGGLING trying to name this one ;-;

#f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 rpf fic #f1 imagine #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #mv1 x y/n #mv1 x reader #mv1 x you #📝

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dreamergirlatpaddock · 10 months ago

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FAVS 4 LANDO NORRIS 2.0

Some of my favorite stories, writers you are amazing

just for the day cockwarming** dirty mind Change Of Lifestyle - LN Taking a bath with a lover She fell first, he fell harder So Messy (For Everyone Else) Bali smau A secret boyfriend Medusa The Girlfriend Test For You Page feelings happy new year can’t keep a secret Hoodies Drunk Girls Do Cry basically just going on different kinds of dates with lando angels talking part2 Be My Baby 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 photos in his wallet passenger princess part 2 part 3 the way he looks at you Racing Simulator Colorful Sentiment Helmets Flowers on your hair Racing Simulator Lando Norris x reader Masterlist Flirtation Best believe I'm still bejeweled bookworm LALA LUCKY ME Lando Norris x f! pregnant wife MISTAKES part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine lending a hand fake date IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH THE F1 DRIVERS Sing your heart out because he ripped your heart out! tour diaries red carpet date Extra Special All in the Details friends with my ex CRASH LANDING too much information

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delphi-shield · 3 months ago

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Variations on a Theme

Claire Redfield x Leon Kennedy wc: ~2.6k post-vendetta, pre-death island. short fic that wouldnt leave me alone so i had to write it down. might write a continuation. happy sept. 30th, i miss my babies. dividers from @/adornedwithlight

summary: Sherry organizes a memorial service; Claire and Leon try to put aside their grief to mourn the way she does.

The call comes through at 11 PM the night before. Leon ignores most calls to his personal cell after nine, but for Claire, he makes an exception.

She never calls without purpose. Not anymore. There had been nights in the past when it had been anything and everything and the nothing in between that had kept them up until early hours of the morning. Calls crammed between operations and meetings, voicemails that still haunted his inbox. They had been better at this once.

The small talk hadn't been so stilted and forced like it was now. No ‘hey, I saw that report on Bali - was that you?’ because Claire would have known. He would have told her everything – or mostly everything. Leon would have redacted the parts that could get her into trouble. He'd leave out hostage scenarios gone wrong, spare her the inequity of his work even though she's sure to find out on her own.

Somewhere along the way, he'd started redacting so many details that his recountings had boiled down to ‘I'm glad to be back’. Somewhere along the way, Claire had stopped pressing for more.

Claire doesn't bother feigning interest in his last operation this time. She doesn't need to - TerraSave already put out a statement condemning the outcome.

She's good at small talk, always has been better at people than him. Conversation flows from her, connections come easy. He'd always admired that about her. Now, though, she's floundering. His short, to the point answers have her at a loss. That's new. Usually it just pisses her off.

“What’s going on, Claire?” he asks for the second time in their short conversation.

She lapses into silence. Redfield family trait - they love to go quiet on you when they've been found out. Like they're waiting for you to move on - like you'll forget if they just don't acknowledge it.

“Sherry's organized this memorial service,” Claire finally broaches. “For - y'know. I think it would mean a lot to her if you were there.”

Dread weighs heavy in his stomach. Of course he knows. He's been dreading this kind of thing since Terragrigia, since the gritty details of bioterrorism had been shoved in the average American's home. It's not hard to put two and two together, to realize what the Raccoon City incident had been. Maybe the public would never know the full extent, the involvement of the government, but there's footage of a hunter on LiveLeak, for fuck's sake. You could cover this shit up in the 90's, but they hadn't been on top of things when the century had turned, when more information than ever had been pumped to the general populace. Now it was like sticking a bandaid on a hemorrhaging wound.

He didn't think it would be one of their own who did this, who dredged up Raccoon City's bloated corpse and put it on display. He thought some well-meaning intern, some politician looking for a bump in numbers, trying to seem empathetic might pull this stunt – but one of their own?

He can't tell if it's a dim sense of betrayal that's twisting his gut into knots or if it's anger. He's carefully curated his life to avoid this. The month of September is his memorial. He doesn't need the cameras, the spotlight - he doesn't need other people sobbing out their grief right next to him, not when he keeps his tight to his chest.

Jesus. Sherry couldn't have asked him herself? Not in person, God no – but sent him a calendar invite or emailed him a flier - something that would give him plausible deniability. Something he could ignore, slide into the recycle bin, claim he never received and curse technology. Sorry, Sherry. All this new technology is just tough for me to keep up with. As if he's not got the latest and greatest in hand at all times.

“Are you going?”

Claire is quiet on the other end of the line.

“It would mean a lot to her.”

Leon snorts. “That's a ‘no’.”

Claire's huff is almost lost through the phone, but he can picture her pout well enough. Lord knows he's the cause more often than not.

It's not just that he hates this kind of thing, or that he's still hot off the heels of Benson's death, that the media could have a field day with him showing up to an event like this. If the wrong people hear about this, they'll all be lambasted as nutjob conspiracy theorists. If the wrong people have found out about this, it could get dangerous fast.

Leon does the only thing he can think to. Deflect.

“She shouldn't be doing this shit,” Leon points out. “Raccoon City is still classified.”

He can feel Claire roll her eyes from the other side of the phone. He bites his tongue. Improvement, he thinks. A month ago he would have cut loose, blown this whole conversation up.

“She's not releasing classified info, Leon. It's a memorial.”

“Brass is gonna have a problem with this, and I don't know if I can bail her out.”

“She got it cleared months ago. You'd know if–” Claire stops herself. She's trying, too, he realizes when she swerves around the giant crater that was the way he'd spent a year drinking himself into oblivion. “You’d know if you actually checked your email.”

Damn. She's got him there. Maybe Sherry already tried the calendar invite and the flier. In his mind's eye, she's still 12 years old, ruddy cheeked and gap toothed - clicking clumsily around a computer to make a flier, sending it to him, waiting–

He stops that train of thought, pins the ache in his chest on a recently cracked rib.

“Nobody asks Valentine to go to this shit.”

“Jill's busy.”

“And I'm not?”

“Can you just show up for Sherry?”

“Can't we just take her out for ice cream after or something?”

“She's not–”

Claire pauses on the other end of the line. Leon's not as good at this as he used to be, can't tell if she stopped herself so she doesn't laugh or so she doesn't snap at him.

Inhale. Shaky exhale. He can hear her struggling not to smile.

“She's not a kid anymore.”

He knows that. Of course he knows that. He's seen her in the field. She’s a powerhouse, full-grown and owning it.

Man up, Kennedy, he thinks. Do it for your girls.

The thought sends a jolt skittering across his skin, raises the hair on his arms. He hasn't thought of them like that in years - not sober, at least.

“I'm not sitting on the stage,” he says firmly.

“Me either.”

“And I’m not giving a speech.”

“I don't think it's a media thing,” Claire says, the way one might try to calm a spooked horse. “She just wanted to do something for people like us. It's gonna be low-key.”

Claire has a very different definition of ‘low-key’ than he does, but he hums all the same.

“All right,” he relents. “Send me the details.”

It doesn't take more than a few seconds for his phone to vibrate. She was ready for that, probably planned on sending it to him whether he said yes or no.

She sounds cheerful, reveling in her victory, when she winds up the call with the promise to see him next week. He can count the times Claire has been happy to see him lately on one hand; when he tosses his phone back to his nightstand, he counts that as a win.

The week flies by as if September 30th couldn't get there quick enough. Usually, the week of the 30th dragged - every hour of every day dedicated to a remembrance of the last normal hours of his life. Mourning is on hold for now - he’s saving it all up for Sherry's big event.

Claire texts him a reminder two days before. He types and retypes a response over and over, and somewhere in the revisions he realizes it's not just about him. She doesn't want to do this either. Not alone.

See you there. Ice cream after.

Leon’s locked in now. He prays for work to run long, for an emergency to crop up that sends him across the country - but the office is quiet. He's grateful not to run into Sherry, grateful that he won't have the chance to open his mouth and ruin things. There will plenty of time for that later.

You promised, he tells himself the morning of, phone in hand, debating on calling in sick. His feet are leaden when he dresses, hands heavy at the wheel of his car. He's in a daze the whole day, barely remembers driving to work. If anyone notices, they don't call him on it. He’s ghosting through another September unseen.

But the end of the day forces him back into his body. He'll be late if he sits in his car any longer. The engine turns over despite his prayers. He promised, he tells himself. He can't make them do this alone.

The park Sherry picked out for the memorial service is close to the office. He could walk, but he's not going to limit his options in case things go south, wants the ability to get in his car and bail. Halfway there, he realizes he's been followed. He stays in his car, watching the suburban in the rearview when they pull in a few spots down. Leon only relaxes when a gaggle of kids burst from the sliding door, run off ahead of their mother.

Claire's waiting for him when he hops out. She leans against her bike. Her hair is down - shorter than he remembers. Her thick jacket thrown over the seat of her bike, leaving her in a black turtleneck and a pair of orange corduroys.

“You know it's not formal, right?”

“I'm coming from work. Cut me some slack.”

Claire laughs, ducking her head. She pushes off of her bike and waves for him to follow. She swishes into the park ahead of him, her steps only faltering until he catches up to her side with a handful of long strides. Side by side like this, there’s enough room to slot Sherry in between them. Wherever she is - probably off playing party planner.

He always thought she’d be good at that. Sherry’s good at making sure people are taken care of, making sure they have what they need. She’s got a quiet sort of intensity that can spook people, sure, but she’s fun and exuberant - she could have had a shot at a real life, if things had been different.

She reserved a little gazebo for the event. White chairs in a handful of neat lines, a little charcoal grill off to the side, picnic table lined with candles and framed photos. It’s sweet, the way she’s done everything up. Probably put hours into this, getting things just so. She’s done a good job, honest.

Leon just can't stop checking every angle. He's braced for the sight of a flash - camera or muzzle, he's not sure which would be worse. Couldn't Sherry have picked somewhere more private? Couldn't she have rented out the basement of some bar, given him an excuse not to show? Sorry, Sherry, I'm working on myself - can't put myself through the temptation.

No. Of course not. She'd probably considered that already. The kid is too considerate for her own good. Rented out a gazebo just so no one had to face their demons.

Claire pauses at a row of chairs, gesturing for Leon to sit. He forgets to smile when he tears his eyes away from a suspicious copse of bushes. His hand ghosts against the small of her back, urging her to go first. He needs to be on the end, needs to be able to get to his feet quick when something happens.

If, he reminds himself. If something happens.

Claire slips into her seat without protest. Maybe the occasion has her feeling off, too. He tries not to read into it.

Leon lets out a low whistle as he sinks into his chair. “There's more people than I thought there'd be.”

“I know,” Claire hums. “Sometimes it feels like we're the only ones.”

How many people had been there? How many had been on the streets, had escaped by the skin of their teeth? How many of these people were here to mourn someone who had wasted away before their time?

His eyes lock onto hands and mouths, tries to match them to ones he sees in his dreams. Teeth snapping, hands teasing at him, pulling him under a writhing mass of rot, ichor spilling into his mouth, choking him.

Claire nudges him, leans closer. Her shampoo wafts across him, the stench of decades old decay that stings his eyes soothed by cherries. Her fingers light on his wrist.

“Still doing ice cream after? I know a place.”

If they were here for anyone else, he'd have grabbed Claire's hand and pulled her out to the parking lot. They'd cut the shit, go get ice cream and pretend things weren't complicated. He'd get butter pecan and Claire would tease him for being basic. Ice cream is a fifteen minute treat, but they'd linger until the parlor closed, until the workers were shooting them dirty looks.

But they're here for Sherry. Leon makes himself smile, mouth thinning.

“Yeah. After.”

People file in, some alone, the same haunted look that he wears well, others with whole families. There's maybe thirty people - small number on paper, but packed in like this makes it feel claustrophobic. He scans the crowd for Sherry again and again, searching for a glimpse of her. Claire’s hand stays on his wrist, heavier now. He wishes he could turn his hand and capture hers. He doesn’t know how to.

“She still comin’?” He murmurs to Claire.

“She better. This is her thing,” she grumbles back. The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. He knew she wasn’t all-in on this whole thing.

Before he can call her on it, Sherry beats down the center aisle, clambering up the steps of the gazebo. Leon clicks his tongue, sits a little straighter. There she is, digging Claire out of a moment of weakness once again.

“Thank you all so much for coming,” Sherry starts, shuffling note cards in her hands.

Claire lets out a coo under her breath. She leans closer, presses against Leon’s arm to whisper, “she’s so nervous. Look.”

Leon doesn’t need to be directed to see the tremble of Sherry’s fingers, but he looks anyway. Public speaking isn’t the issue, he knows that much - it’s got to be the topic.

Leon sits a little taller. He nudges Claire’s knee with his own, a silent ‘watch this’. He coughs into his fist, louder and longer than necessary.

Sherry tracks the sound instinctively. Her eyes light on them in the crowd. The apples of her cheeks bunch up, smile so wide that she's transformed right back into that little girl he knew, that clung to his hand and swung his arm as they walked down the road. Her words trail off, pause long enough to be noticeable but not to be awkward.

“I’m so grateful that each and every one of you have taken the time to come here tonight,” she continues, her eyes lingering on Leon, flitting back to Claire.

There. That’s his good deed for the month.

“You’re buying,” he whispers to Claire once Sherry’s eyes have finally drifted away.

Claire snorts. She pats his arm. He can see it all over her face - yeah, right.

Yeah, right. His girls are gonna burn an ice cream-shaped hole in his wallet by the end of the night.

#cleon #claire redfield x leon kennedy #resident evil fanfic #cleon fic #claire x leon

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sluttywonwoo · 1 year ago

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instead of you [part twenty-nine] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, menstruation, minor injury, description of injury, blood, mentions of sex (mdni)

word count: 5.4k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

a/n pt. 2: in this series minho and jisung know how to swim and enjoy it lol also if any old 5sos stans are reading this, they're staying in the same treehouse from The bali trip sdkfhds

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

“Do you ever think about anything else?” you mumbled in annoyance.

“Do you want me to be honest?”

You shoved him, glaring hard. “You’re asking to be caught,” you whispered, eyes widening when he didn’t deny it. “What, you want him to find out?”

“Might be better than sneaking around,” he reasoned.

“We’d still have to sneak around. Your other brother and your parents can’t know,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, I guess.”

He didn’t seem convinced.

“What, do you not like me acting like Jisung’s girlfriend? Are you jealous?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he countered defensively. “I just thought you might feel bad going behind his back.”

He had you there, the bastard. “You already know I do. But I don’t want to lose my friendship with him over it.”

“He’s going to find out sooner or later.”

“Why, you’ll tell him?”

Minho rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. Neither of you had the advantage here and he knew that. Telling Jisung meant you’d both lose something.

You considered telling Minho that you’d also decided that you should stop sleeping together altogether, but he was already moody and you didn’t want to worsen it. You’d tell him later, when he was less defensive.

You slept for eleven hours straight when you finally made it to Bali.

Everyone was staying in the same accommodation again, but this time it was like a treehouse with separate rooms connected by rope bridges.

Jisung was relieved that you were finally able to sleep and rewarded you with homemade chili when you woke up.

“Is it good?” he asked, sliding onto the barstool next to you.

The kitchen was situated in the middle of the treehouse, sharing space with the common area on the other side of the deck. Despite it being open to the forest, you thankfully hadn’t been visited by any of the bugs or wildlife who might’ve been lured in by the smell of cooking food.

“Everything you make is good,” you answered, spooning another bite into your mouth.

“That’s not true.”

“Yes it is.”

“You’ve helped me through a lot of trial and error with recipes, don’t forget.”

You nodded. “You’re right. I suppressed that.”

He rolled his eyes, but grinned nonetheless, pleased that you were enjoying your lunch.

“What are we doing today?” you asked.

“Still not reading the itinerary, I see.”

“My bad.”

“We’re going surfing.”

“Wha- I don’t know how to surf!” you cried.

“We’ll teach you!”

“Oh my god, this is a nightmare,” you groaned to yourself. “We’re going to be active all day and you fed me chili? What’s wrong with you?”

You were half-kidding, mainly annoyed with yourself for not checking the schedule on your own. You shoved the bowl across the counter towards your best friend and stood from the stool. He’d finish the rest.

“When are we going?”

Jisung was hesitant to answer, probably knowing you wouldn’t like what he’d say. “In like an hour.”

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, turning on your heel to run back to your room and change.

You ran into Felix as you rounded the corner, accidentally bumping your nose on his shoulder.

“Woah, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“Ask your brother, I’m not speaking to him right now.”

You brushed past him, only to hear Jisung muttering an explanation behind you. “I don’t know, I just told her what we’re doing today.”

An hour didn’t give you much time at all to get ready. You needed to dig through your luggage to find a bathing suit, find something to wear over it, put sunscreen on- you also needed at least twenty minutes to wrestle with a tampon so that it wasn’t painfully uncomfortable when you walked or sat or did literally anything. You’ve tried using tampons a dozen or so times, and not once has it been a pleasant enough experience for you to want to repeat. You knew people who swore by them, wouldn’t use any other product but you were not one of them. Maybe your pussy was broken, or maybe you were just doing it wrong, but you always dreaded using tampons and this was not an exception.

Of course you’d get your period when you’re going to the beach of all places. Just your luck.

You didn’t even want to go surfing, but you weren’t going to be that girlfriend that didn’t participate in family activities, especially since your fear of heights already had you sitting out of things. No, you would be the fun girlfriend that tried new things, that had a good attitude about it. It’s what Jisung deserved.

The resort that rented out the treehouses was right on the beach so it was just a short walk to the shore.

Dom and Nikki set up a spot to lounge a few meters away from where the waves were breaking so they could watch you all surf. Nikki had even brought one of her nice cameras to take pictures of you all. “I don’t have anywhere near enough pictures of this trip,” she’d said when the boys protested. They’d appreciate it a lot more when they saw the action shots later on. You watched as she set up a tripod in the sand and adjusted the legs to make the platform level before screwing the Nikon onto the plate.

Minho organized the board and wetsuit rentals at the little hut by the sand dunes that was associated with the resort. He was the most experienced surfer out of the four of you so you let him choose a board for you. After speaking with the guy working the booth they’d both decided on a foam longboard. The thing was huge. You had no idea how you were supposed to handle something so big, but Minho and the guy had assured you that bigger was better for beginners.

The three boys chose funboards, which were apparently the next size down. You felt a little embarrassed about being the only noob, but you knew you’d be a lot more embarrassed if you tried to use an intermediate board with no experience. You could already see the crowd of people surrounding your lifeless body on the beach.

“What size wetsuit do you want?” Minho asked.

“Um, I don’t really know how the sizes work,” you admitted.

Your eyes flitted to the man behind the desk who briefly looked you up and down and said, “I got you.”

Somehow he was able to determine your size just by looking at you because the one he picked fit like a glove.

“Just put the sleeves over your shoulders like this,” he demonstrated. A quick glance at the lanyard around his neck told you his name was Banyu, at least that’s what was scrawled in the open space in dry-erase marker. “And then pull the body of the suit upwards. The sleeves on your shoulders should create some resistance and help the rest slide on.”

He stepped back to let you do the rest and then showed you how to zip it up. “Like this,” he said again, pulling an imaginary zipper up his back. You did as he did and raised your arm above your head until the zipper wouldn’t go anymore.

“Perfect! You’re already a natural.”

“I don’t know about that,” you chuckled. “I bet you’ll see me eat it in about ten minutes. Maybe less.”

“Do you need a lesson?” Banyu offered, “I’m off for lunch in like thirty minutes. I’m certified to teach beginners, but I won’t charge you or anything.”

You were about to accept when Minho spoke for you.

“We’ll teach her, bro. Don’t worry.” He sounded cheery enough, but you could see past the smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“You’re not qualified, though,” you pointed out, mostly just to get under Minho’s skin. Banyu shrugged as if to say you had a point, but didn’t add his two cents. “They seem to really want to teach me,” you sighed, “but thank you. Although, if I’m still shit in a couple hours I might just take you up on that. And if I die out there, it’s on you.” The threat was directed at Minho and he knew it.

“You look great, babe!” Jisung exclaimed suddenly, finally coming to your rescue. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pinched your hip. “Wetsuits are definitely your thing.”

“Ji!” you groaned, cheeks warming. “My entire body is covered.”

“Yeah, but the thing is skin-tight,” he mused cheekily, smirking when you covered your face with your hands.

“Can we go now?” you hissed.

You were completely mortified to have this conversation in front of a stranger even if it was all part of the act. You’d never be talking to Banyu again, no matter how cute he was.

“Thanks for everything!” Jisung said brightly and turned to help you with your board.

It was pretty heavy which you found strange since it was supposedly made of foam. To be fair, it was about nine feet long, which called for a good amount of foam. Still, you were out of breath by the time you reached the edge of the water.

“He thought you were cute,” Jisung teased once you were out of earshot.

Felix nodded in agreement but Minho didn’t acknowledge the statement at all.

“You think that about everyone.” You shook your head and brushed him off. “You’re biased.”

“Okay, but I’m right this time. Even Lix agrees.”

“Yeah, but I’m staying out of this, for the record,” Felix added.

“Whatever,” you muttered.

The four of you had stopped just in front of the water to make final adjustments when Jisung told his brothers to go on without you, explaining that he’d teach you the basics and that there was no reason to wait up. Minho looked like he wanted to argue but kept his mouth shut and followed Felix out into the waves.

“You okay?” Jisung asked, checking on you as always. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“I do want to,” you assured him. You were getting better at lying to your best friend but the thought didn’t give you much comfort.

Although it wasn’t that you didn’t want to try surfing. Surfing was something you always thought would be cool… to do someday. But you didn’t want to try it now. Learning how with just Jisung might be fun, but here you had an audience and that was what made you nervous.

“I’m just a little nervous.”

“I know. You’ll be fine, though. I’ll be right there with you,” he insisted, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze. You nodded, you trusted him. You trusted Jisung with your life and if he thought you could do it, then you’d give it a shot. “So first things first, you’ll want to wrap that velcro strap of the leash around your ankle so you don’t lose your board when you fall off.” You dropped your surfboard in the sand next to you and did as he said, still listening as he talked. He did the same and placed his board next to yours as he fastened his own leash to his ankle. “You’ve boogie boarded before, right?”

“Yeah. I used to do it a bunch as a kid.”

“Surfing is similar in the way you catch a wave,” he explained. “We’ll paddle out to where Minho and Felix are and when you want to give it a try you’ll paddle with the wave just like you would on a boogie board and stand up when it picks you up and crests.” He huffed and straightened up again, giving you a look. “You’re not going to like the next part.”

“What? Why?”

“We have to practice standing up.”

You immediately understood why he’d said you wouldn’t like it And he was right. “Right here? On land?”

“Yes. It’s the most important part of learning.”

You wanted to put up more of a fight but didn’t want to make a scene so you merely grunted in displeasure before mirroring Jisung’s movements and lying flat on your stomach on the board. He showed you how to “pop up” a couple of times before he instructed you to try it yourself. There were only a few aspects of your form that he corrected before deeming you ready to get into the water, something you took pride in.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at you as you waded into the ocean together.

You knew he was just complimenting you to fuel your ego and boost your confidence but you didn’t care. It felt good to hear.

It took a good fifteen minutes to paddle all the way out to where Minho and Felix were waiting for waves. You were exhausted by the time you reached them. Fighting the current and dodging waves at the same time was a lot harder than you anticipated. Jisung was able to duck dive the waves with his board since it was smaller and he was strong enough to push the nose of it beneath the water, but you were stuck facing them head-on. Every time they’d crash into you the force would send you backward and you were forced to make up the distance by paddling twice as long.

You weren’t sure how you were supposed to catch a wave and stand up on a board after this… and then paddle back to do it all over again. Why did people do this again?

Minho and Felix greeted you happily when you and Jisung joined them, offering you both high-fives. Felix immediately launched into a story about how he and Minho had wiped out already while Minnho turned his attention to you. He gave your board a nudge with his knee and smiled encouragingly.

“Ready?”

“You know you’re supposed to stand up, right?”

“She’s learning, Felix, give her a break!” Jisung yelled defensively.

You sighed when you finally reached the group again, having paddled all the way back after taking another wave on your stomach. You’d managed to catch a few, you were just having trouble with the standing component, the main component of surfing.

“You’re doing great, babe,” Jisung added when you rejoined them.

“You don’t have to lie.”

“I’m not lying! It’s not an easy thing to learn, just take your time.”

You took a deep breath and nodded, slumping forward on your board like you were hugging it. You closed your eyes as the tide rocked you gently, secretly wishing to be on the shore with Nikki and Dom. You were soaked, cold, and sticky with salty residue left behind by the ocean’s foamy currents. You honestly couldn’t wait to get back to the room and shower but you were trying to stick it out for Jisung’s sake.

“You okay?” It was Minho, who had somehow made his way over to you. You didn’t bother opening your eyes, not wanting to confront the sight of him in his skin-tight wetsuit any more than you already had to.

“Peachy,” you replied.

“Do you want to take a break? I could sit here with you for a while if you want.”

“No, I’ll be fine. I might sit the next round out but I’m okay by myself.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you assured him. “I like watching you guys have fun.”

“Suit yourself.”

You relayed the same message to Jisung when he offered to take a breather with you, lifting yourself up to watch them catch a few more waves. Minho went first, likely claiming seniority over the twins, followed by Jisung, and finally Felix. Each of them were able to stand for at least a few seconds, usually lasting until the swell subsided.

“They’re just good at fucking everything, aren’t they?” you mumbled to yourself.

After Felix wiped out for the third time in a row they paddled back over to you, shouting for you to trade places with him.

Jisung waved his arms at you like you couldn’t see him from thirty feet away and cupped his hands around his mouth to yell at you. “Come on, benchwarmer, he’s tagging you in!”

“What’d you just call me?” you shouted back.

“You heard me! Get over here, slowpoke!”

Felix gave you an apologetic look as he took his spot beside you and slicked back his wet hair.

“Why do they need a third person?” you grumbled. “Can’t we both take a break?”

He shrugged. “They must think you’ve rested long enough.”

“Whatever. Thanks a lot.”

You were relieved to hear Felix laugh as you paddled away because you were worried he might have taken your sarcasm to heart.

“Welcome back,” Jisung said warmly and leaned across the space between you to kiss you on the cheek.

It felt a little embarrassing to put on the act in front of Minho who already knew you weren’t actually dating but Jisung didn’t know he knew- and it was all so complicated that you’d rather not think about it at all. Of course, that wasn’t an option so you settled for what was second best, which happened to be pushing everything down as much as humanly possible.

“Call me a benchwarmer again and I’m cooking dinner for a week when we get home.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!”

“That’s… a punishment?” Minho asked uncertainly.

“Yes,” both you and Jisung answered simultaneously.

Minho nodded unsurely at first, then his eyes lit up as if he suddenly understood. “Right, ramen for breakfast.”

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” you admitted in surprise.

“It’s kind of a hard thing to forget, baby,” Jisung pointed out. You glared at him and he immediately averted eye contact. “Anyway, how should we do the line-up this time?”

Minho and Jisung agreed that you should go second just in case something happened during your turn, that way they’d be able to reach you from either side. Once that was decided, they played rock paper scissors over the first and third spots. Minho won and picked first again. Typical.

The current had picked up in the time it took to divvy up the line-order, which meant that bigger waves were starting to form in the sweet spot the boys had scoped earlier. Both of the Hans seemed to take this as a positive thing, but it made you even more nervous.

“We need to start before someone comes and tries to take our spot from us,” Minho said. He seemed to notice the anxiety written across your face and softened a little. “We’ll be right there, okay? No need to worry.”

Easy enough to say, you thought to yourself. You forced a smile and gave him a thumbs-up.

Jisung coached you while you waited for Minho to take his turn. You knew he was trying to be helpful but it wasn’t making you feel any better.

“Remember, once you feel the wave pick you up, pop-up on your feet.”

“I know what to do,” you reminded him, “I’m just scared to do it.”

He rubbed your back soothingly. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I know you’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“Don’t think too much about it, okay? Just let your body do its thing. Let your reflexes do the thinking for you.”

“I don’t know if I can not think about it.”

Your best friend hummed knowingly. “Overthinking is a talent of yours.” He dodged your attempt to splash him, giving you an offended look. “I was just telling the truth!”

“Yeah, well next time keep it to yourself,” you shot. “But I don’t think I was built to surf. I don’t have good reflexes like you guys do. I’ve never been athletic, you know that.”

“Plenty of people who aren’t naturally athletic become good at sports through practice!”

“Yeah, but I doubt that’ll happen for me in the span of a single afternoon.”

“Not with that attitude it won’t!”

Your shoulders sagged, knowing he was right- at least partially. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry for being a bummer.”

“Don’t be. I know you like to get into that head of yours,” Jisung said with a grin. “We’re supposed to be having fun. You don’t have to stand up at all today if you don’t feel ready. Don’t let Felix’s stupid comment get to you if that’s what it is. He’s an idiot and he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

You chuckled appreciatively but your attention was torn away before you could respond. It was Minho calling to you from the shallow end, asking if you were ready.

“Yeah, sorry!”

Jisung patted you on the back and gave you a thumbs up. He wished you good luck and gave your board an extra push to propel you in the direction you needed to go.

You took deep breaths as you paddled out to where Minho had just been before he took his turn. By the time you reached it, your stomach was in knots and you were trying not to think about all the possible ways you could hurt yourself with little success.

Thankfully, a lot of surfing was a waiting game. You had to wait until you paddled out all the way to the surf, wait your turn, wait for a wave that was strong enough to pick you up. Most of surfing was not surfing in the same way that most of fishing was not catching fish. Unfortunately, though, you didn’t get much of a reprieve once you got into position. The ocean was choppy, meaning good waves were readily available for the taking.

You didn’t want to wait too long and hold up the boys or risk the chance of getting into your head again, though you weren’t quite convinced you had gotten out of your head, so you took the first big wave that hit.

The first part was easy enough. You’d compared it to boogie boarding, just with a bigger, more awkward board. It was a little more difficult to propel yourself with a surfboard at the speed needed to keep up with the wave due to the sheer weight of it, and you weren’t all that fit, but it was a simple adjustment to make and you caught on to that part quickly.

You could already feel the adrenaline coursing through you as your board cut through the water. Trying to take Jisung’s advice of doing before thinking, you pushed yourself up onto your knees and then your feet one at a time. It wasn’t the smoothest pop-up, but you’d done it! You’d gotten up and were actually standing on your surfboard. You could barely hear Jisung and Minho cheering over the sound of the rushing water but it made you smile nonetheless. Even their parents were cheering you on from the beach.

The whole thing lasted maybe a couple of seconds before you lost your balance and fell off but you counted it as a win regardless, especially since water didn’t even go up your nose. When you surfaced, Minho was already making his way over to you.

“That was great!” he complimented, beaming. “Are you okay? Didn’t hit your head or anything, right?”

“I’m good, thanks. Do you think your mom got the picture?”

Minho laughed. “I’m sure she did.”

You nodded in acknowledgment and tried to lift yourself back onto your surfboard, only for your palms to slip and cause you to fall back into the water. This time you did get water up your nose and you cursed as you ducked under again to try and get it out.

“Oh shit, what happened?” Minho asked, unable to conceal the mixture of concern and amusement in his voice.

“I don’t know,” you explained, trying again. Same results. “Fuck me,” you hissed, rubbing your wrist.

“Right here?” he joked, knowing full well the comment hadn’t been directed at him.

“Shut up.”

“Can you not push yourself up?”

“I’m trying.”

“I can see that. I wasn’t being condescending, I was genuinely asking.”

“Oh,” you whispered, face warming with embarrassment. “I haven’t had this problem before! I don’t know why I’m having trouble.”

“You’re probably getting tired and sore,” Minho reasoned. “We’ve been out here for a while.”

He swung his leg around so that he could easily slide off of his own surfboard and into the water with you. You were confused until you felt his hands on your waist.

“Ready, one, two, three-”

You jumped on three and Minho helped lift you back onto your board, this time successfully.

Your face burned and you couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“I don’t know how much more of this I can do,” you admitted to Jisung once the rotation was complete and you were back in the line-up.

Minho was out doing his turn again and you were up next but you could barely keep yourself upright and your muscles were protesting even the smallest amount of movement.

Jisung winced at the stiffness you were exhibiting like he knew what you were feeling. “Yeah, you’re going to be really sore tomorrow. I still remember waking up the day after my first time surfing. Felt like I got hit by a bus.”

“Awesome, can’t wait.”

“We’ll all be feeling it tomorrow, don’t worry. It takes a lot out of you.”

“I’ve gathered that.”

“Why don’t you do one more and then call it a day?” he suggested. “We’ll grab Lix again and you can go rest with mum and dad on the beach until we’re finished.”

Hanging out with just Jisung’s parents didn’t sound all that appealing to you but you figured it would be better than pushing yourself too hard out here and getting dragged up to the shore half-conscious by one of their sons later on.

It turned out that your next turn would’ve been your last whether or not you wanted it to be. Somehow you had enough strength left to stand up on your board again but then as soon as you wiped out and tried to get up you accidentally stepped on something sharp. You couldn’t tell what it was but it felt like a rock or a piece of coral and it hurt.

You weren’t sure if you were bleeding but the pain wasn’t subsiding so you knew you would need to check it out anyway.

The boys knew it was your last turn so they didn’t question it when you swam past Minho all the way to the shore, dragging your board behind you. You hoped they couldn’t see you limping when you got out of the water either. You tried not to make it obvious but it was hard when you were favoring one foot over the other and practically hopping your way up to Nikki and Dom.

“What happened?” Nikki asked, immediately standing to meet you halfway.

“I, um, stepped on something out there, I think. I don’t think it’s serious but I can’t put any weight on my right foot so I thought I should get it looked at. Do you know if there’s first-aid anywhere around here?”

She nodded and took one of your hands even though you were dripping wet and she was completely dry. “I’m sure the lifeguards have a kit in their lookouts. And if they don’t have what you need they can point us in the direction of where to find someone who does.”

You let her lead you along the beach to the closest lifeguard chair where the on-duty lifeguard stuck his head into the little booth to call one of the off-duty guards out. You assumed he’d seen you limping up to the stand, knew you’d need help, and recruited backup to deal with you while he kept his eyes on the water.

A tan, lanky boy who looked to be about your age popped his head out of the booth and lowered his sunglasses to get a better look at you. He raised his eyebrows as if to ask “what’s wrong”, to which Nikki loosely explained what happened.

He straightened up from where he had been leaning against the wall to actually come down and assess you, telling you to take a seat on the steps of the stand as he knelt in the sand.

“What’s your name?”

“Y/n.”

“I’m Amir. I’ll try and get you patched up.”

“Thanks.”

He couldn’t be older than twenty-five, and you doubted he had any legitimate medical experience aside from mandatory first-aid training, but his demeanor relaxed you a bit. His air of confidence was reassuring rather than off-putting. You were glad that he didn’t seem nervous or panicked over your injury, you figured that must be a good sign.

“I saw you out there,” he remarked casually as he gently lifted your ankle. “First time?”

“That obvious?” you joked.

“Not at all, you’re a natural,” he lied, smirking to himself.

“That’s why I ended up here, right?”

“All the pros get roughed up, just part of the process.”

“Must be doing something right, then. Good to know.”

You watched as Amir unzipped his fanny pack and pulled an antiseptic wipe and a tube of Neosporin out. He used the wipe to clean the wound first, the sting of the rubbing alcohol making you wince.

“Sorry,” he apologized with a grimace of his own. “Worst part’s over, though. You’re not bleeding too bad, either, which is good. We actually see this a lot.”

“What do you see a lot?” you asked, still unsure about what had happened to your foot.

“Looks like you stepped, or rather jumped, on a sea urchin. Its spines broke off into your toe.”

“What?” you gasped.

“It’s not serious! The urchin isn’t poisonous or anything, we’d know right away if it was. It’s easy to treat, it’ll just be uncomfortable and might take a bit to heal.”

“Do you think the sea urchin is okay?”

Amir laughed at that, giving you a funny look. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“I-I just feel bad. I hope I didn’t kill it.”

He waved it off as he applied the Neosporin and wrapped the top of your foot in a bandage. “I’m sure it’s fine. Sea urchins are durable. They can regrow their spines like lizards can regrow their tails.”

That made you feel a little better.

Amir tapped your ankle to signal that he was finished and held out his hand to help you back up.

“You’re good to go, y/n.”

“Thank you!”

“For treatment, if you’re able to, soak your foot in Epsom salts a few times a day. That should help the spines in your skin dissolve.”

You shuddered at the thought but nodded and thanked him again right as the Han boys joined you and Nikki at the lifeguard stand.

“What happened?” Jisung asked, taking both of your arms and looking you up and down for any sign of injury.

“Stepped on a sea urchin when I jumped off my surfboard,” you muttered.

“Oh my god, are you okay?”

“I’m embarrassed, but I’ll live.”

“Does it hurt?”

“I mean, it isn’t comfortable.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he demanded.

“I didn’t know what happened! I just knew I’d hurt myself but I didn’t think it was that big of a deal and it isn’t! The lifeguard said so himself.”

“Stepping on a sea urchin sounds pretty serious,” Felix chimed in from behind his twin brother.

“Okay, well it’s not like I could communicate what had happened from all the way over here when you guys were in the water,” you said defensively. “I didn’t want you to worry either. I know you would’ve wanted to come with me and I didn’t want to cut your surfing short.” The last part was directed at Jisung specifically. He knew you were right, you could tell from the look in his eyes.

“I-”

“Jisung,” Nikki pressed, giving her son a look, like she was trying to remind him that he was arguing with his injured girlfriend right in front of the lifeguard stand and looked like a major asshole. “Let’s go back to our spot.”

You thanked Nikki for taking you to get first-aid and then lagged behind the rest of the Hans as you made your way back over to Dom.

Minho hung back with you, quipping, “looks like you’re making friends with everyone today, huh?”

You weren’t in the mood for whatever underlying implication he was trying to make so you just brushed him off.

“Yeah, that’s what happens when you’re nice to people.”

“And when you look like you do,” he added.

“You and your brother are exactly the same,” you groaned.

He looked affronted by this claim, holding a hand to his chest. “What do you mean?”

You dropped your voice lower so that only he could hear you. “You both think everyone’s into me.”

“Most people are.”

“You just proved my point.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

add yourself to my taglist here!

#instead of you stray kids #instead of you skz #iou stray kids #iou skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x female reader #lee know x reader #lee know x female reader #lee know x bi!reader #stray kids series #lee know series #lino x reader #lee minho x reader

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rynfiles · 11 months ago

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happy valentines day !

✎ᝰ — how your faves would act during v-day season ᡣ𐭩

★ — genre + warnings: fluff + no warnings

★ — a/n: something to celebrate love being in the air <3

another version of christmas — this holiday is as sacred as the birth of their first child. well, not as sacred but this holiday is just another christmas to them. nothing brings them more joy than spoiling their partners on this holiday full of joy, love, embrace, and gifts, loads of gifts to give to one another. these folks are planning to celebrate february 14th months ahead, may I say a little bit before christmas. they’re making reservations, ordering gifts (even better if they’re on sale), having the flower preparations planned out, and I mean the whole nine yards. nothing is ruining this day for them and even if it does, still won’t stop the grandest celebration they could think of (they might rip their hair out)

GOJO, midoriya, connie, yuji, SANJI, bokuto, oikawa, BACHIRA, kaiser, REO, onyonkanpon, kise, akashi (knb), todo

publicly hates it, secretly loves it — full on v-day haters, and I mean wanting to plan arson whenever they see february 14 being right around the corner. they wanna run over every teddy bear, light the v-day section on fire whenever they go grocery shopping, make diss tracks towards this beloved day, the whole nine yards. why do they do this you may ask? cause deep down, they don’t wanna show that v-day is one of the best days to exist. their hearts go soft when they see couples celebrating with beautiful roses on the floor or a dinner on a rooftop restaurant. a lil bit of jealousy, since they don’t have their valentine, but they can’t help but love this day of love. it’s refreshing to see it but they refuse to ever show that they care

jean (influenced by connie), zoro, TOJI, rin, sae, bakugo, eren, shidou, aomine

wait, you’re asking me? — poor babies, they must’ve went half/all their life without a valentine. some of them genuinely don’t care to have a valentine while others do feel a bit down when their friends receive gifts from others on v-day while they have just the phrase to say. however, the way their eyes have widened and they let out the most confused (and adorable) “huh” after asking them to be your valentine, will never not be a hilarious yet adorable thing to witness. the way some of their eyes lit up and sparkle, how some get flustered on the question, or even how they are dumbfounded at the question, it’s all such a delightful sight to see

yuji, luffy, ARMIN, isagi, kunigami, kaminari, YUTA, nanami, choso, usopp, kirishima, mikasa, kagami, kuroko

if you like it, i love it /srs — they don’t “hate” v-day, per se, but it’s not something grand to them like a birthday. now depending on their partner (you), they could either make the holiday bigger than they think it is or take it as another day to love their partner. If you’re not big on v-day, expect something simple, very cute, but a simple way of saying, “happy valentine’s day, I love you”. but, if you’re someone who loves love and quite enjoy the special day on february 14, then expect something out of a romcom, but in their way

nagi, megumi, nobara, maki, shota, geto, ace, chigiri, levi, sasha, oliver, PORCO, pieck, murasakibara, midorima

𖥻 HAPPY VALENTINES DAY 🫶🏽 even though I didn’t have a valentine, imma pretend gojo surprised me with a vacation to bali and bought out a restaurant for me 😙 (yes I’m delusional)

𖥻 these were a bit challenging but I hope you guys enjoyed <3

𖥻 bye babes, drink your water and I love you MWAH 💕

𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐏 💗: 1 Corinthians 13

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maybankbae · 8 months ago

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Valentine’s Day Plans

Word Count: 1,000+

Warnings: Strong Language

AN: Okay what if i said this is my favorite fic I’ve ever written. Maybe it’s because Cal is my cheat lane as well. Happy reading and hope you all enjoy<3

————

February 13th 2019

Daniella Walker. The name that is mainstream as she was making her way into the music scene as what the internet calls their "pop princess."

Daniella first had internet fame how everyone does in the early 2010's, by posting on Youtube. From the age of 16 she started posting covers of her singing different popular songs at the time ranging from Halsey to Ariana Grande. First viral video being her cover of Honeymoon Avenue from the album Yours Truly.

Her life changed at 19 when one of her self produced songs called Speechless dropped and became an overnight sensation. Flying from her home country of London, England to countless radio interviews to her first American Music Awards as an attendee and performer at.

That’s when she met some of her longtime friends in the music industry, 5 Seconds of Summer. She met them because she accidentally bumped into a red haired Micheal as she was coming off stage and they were about to take the stage. The two gushing over much they enjoyed each other’s music.

She was a huge Amnesia fan.

Over the years they continued to keep contact with one another. She was featured on their 3rd album Youngblood on their song Want You Back as backing vocals.

Daniella had also become a regular feature in 5SOS content. As well as being posted on their respective girlfriend’s Instagram’s pretty frequently.

For a little while she was considered a groupie when she went to Bali with them in 2016. Until stan twitter quickly defended her from the trolls on the internet claiming how do they not know her.

She was now 24 standing in line at her favorite local coffee and bagel spot in downtown Los Angeles. The line continued move at a slow pace as she hummed along to the beat in her airpods she been sent the night previous. She was absolutely in love with it. She had a studio session set with Max Martin that she definitely couldn't be late for.

He's worked with artists like Taylor Swift, Kelly Clarkson, Ariana Grande, and Britney Spears.

It's been a dream of hers to work with him and only her 3rd album that is saying she's gotta be doing something right.

She finally approached Bailey, one of the cashiers she had blossomed a friendship from after being a regular here for 4 months.

"Everything bagel with a side of strawberry cream cheese and Iced Americano double shot with light ice and vanilla creamer!" She shouted to the back. "Hey Daniella."

A smile was plastered on her face. "Hey girlfriend! You'll never believe what I've got planned today." She started as she dug in her purse for her card to hand over for her to swipe.

"Please you're literally a pop star. If you told me you were going to meet up with Kim Kardashian I would probably believe you." She stated in her strong jersey accent as she handed the card back.

"No I wish, but on my bucket list though, maybe I could get a discount on those Skims bodysuits I like. Anyways besides the point here, somehow managed to get a studio session with Max Martin! And cherry on top, the guys are showing up with Ryan fucking Tedder.” She said excitedly as she moved off to the side of the line so other people could move.

"See this is what I mean. It's Thursday at nine in the morning and you're going to work with your hot Australian friends and I'm here covered in flour all day while dealing with the bitches in the back and isn't Max Martin that Swedish dude who's written and produced for basically every A list singer." She leaned against the register.

"Yeah it's so exciting is it not. And Alexis you're so talented at making bagels. Hone in on that." She joked making the curly haired blonde roll her eyes in fake annoyance.

“Your accent makes this sound all posh Dani.”

“Oh whatever.”

"Your beautiful everything bagel and iced coffee m'lady." Bailey turned around to the kitchen workers as she handed her two paper bags one full of her favorite little snacks and the other with her bagel.

"Oh my goodness, you didn't have to do th-." She started.

"Oh please shut up yes I did. You're gonna be late with the hot guys.”

“Text me when you can, I'd love to hear all about it." She smiled.

"Will do."

As she was on the highway on the way to the studio her mind was clouded with thoughts some negative some positive, but mostly negative.

Before she knew it she was finding a parking spot and walking into Capitol Records.

Showing security her badge, she looked down at her Apple Watch and cursed, realizing she was going to be late if she didn’t climb the stairs in under 2 minutes. Thank god for her zumba classes she’s been taking.

Once she figured out what studio she was gonna be in for the next 6 hours, she spotted his long hair and glasses talking to Ryan and the four men sat in the couch in the corner. All of them laughing at something on Luke's phone. She knocked bringing their attention to her standing at the door slightly out of breath.

"Daniella! Pleasure to finally meet you." Max said getting up from the comfy chair to give her hug.

"So nice to meet you too. I'm so incredibly excited and I also see you've invited some of my good friends." She stated nudging Ryan's elbow.

"He had a lot of positive things to say about you." He said sitting back down.

"Daniella you probably know them," Ryan gestured to the men sitting on the couch.

"Know them. These guys are basically a second family to me." She joked.

"I hope you don't mind that I decided to bring them along here to hopefully do some live instrumentals for ya." He told her looking at her with a smile.

"Oh my goodness not at all! It actually sounds so cool. I’ve missed these guys." She smiled widely.

Micheal stood up and gave her a brotherly hug. “Have you gotten shorter?” He joked making Daniella give him the bird.

“Haven’t you gotten weirder.”

“Touché.”

Ashton was next, giving her another squeeze and pat on the head.

Then Luke who did their handshake they made up in Bali together, that neither of them forgot even after 4 years.

Finally it was Calum who smiled at her first and then suddenly picked up her up and spun her around in a circle, earning a loud laugh from Daniella and his signature smile that she still got butterflies from.

Even after her 6 years of knowing him, he still makes her blush like a school girl.

“Alright everyone let’s get to work to hear this beautiful voice of hers.” Max stated turning around and facing the recording booth as Daniella walked in and put on her headphones.

Two hours passed as Daniella stood in the recording booth, recording the second verse. She was mumbling the possible verse in the microphone. The song had a Lorde lyricism with Ariana Grande singing vibe.

She and Max had titled the song Selfish. Max and Ryan giving her corrections if needed. Other than the couple comments or corrections from the group she had total artistic freedom and she loved that.

“Could we leave that first half blank of that chorus and I’ll stack some more vocal layers on that run.” Daniella suggested over the noise of the metronome. “Thank you.”

“Yup sounds amazing.”

While Ryan was stacking her vocals, she leaned next to Ashton's drum kit and told him what pace she needed for the chorus.

Calum was fiddling with his bass strings trying to tune them when Daniella walked over. “So what’s your big opinion on it??”

“I think it sounds bloody brilliant.” He said in a Scottish accent.

“Don’t make fun of the Scottish people.”

“You always seem to forget I’m half Scottish and you’re literally British.” He laughed as she hit his tattooed arm slightly.

Max leaned into Micheal's headset, "Okay Mike start from when Daniella comes in at "I used to be cautious about this and stop when the beat drops back down to the acoustic version that we have prepared.”

3 more hours passed as their session ended and Daniella so proud of the song they had made and gotten mastered.

"Alright, could we schedule another one for Friday morning? We’ve got selfish crossed off the list. We could get started on Messier Things as well." Max asked her looking at his calendar.

She nodded with a thumbs up. "That should work with me."

"It was so good to finally see you guys today. What’s new in the wonderful world of 5SOS land." She asked the boys as they were walking to a lunch spot on the less crowded side of LA so the likelihood of them all being noticed and ambushed by paparazzi was a zero percent chance.

“Going on a promo tour for Easier. Thats literally all. New York, LA, Atlanta, and some overseas.” Ashton said laughing.

"Well whatt are you guys doing for the day of love that happens to be tomorrow." She asked wiggling her fingers together.

"Spending time with Sierra." Luke quickly answered with a smile. He loves that woman more than air it seems. But it’s good to see him so happy.

"Crystal wants to go see some new movie." Micheal stated with a raised eyebrows. He probably had no clue but he was with Crystal and thats all he cared about.

“Oo lemme know if you need a dog sitter. I’ll bring Pepper. Y’know she loves Moose and Southy.”

"Probably just a dinner with KayKay." Ashton’s bright smile came up whenever he talked about KayKay.

"Absolutely nothing." Calum said quickly with a slight eye roll. She knew how he felt about Valentine's Day. He hated that day with every fiber in his being.

"We could spend it together Cal, I'm not doing anything either. It can be like old times!" Reminiscing on when they would go their favorite Ramen restaurant in the city and rewatch Criminal Minds at his house whenever they were both free.

As much as only everyone around them knows, they've had a flirty relationship ever since they've met. But what they don’t know is they claim they’re just friends who have occasionally kissed each other, slept in the same bed, and she's worn his clothes more than once but just friends.

But due to them being too awkward to act upon their obvious feelings, they have no official label on whatever they are.

"Ramen on Melrose it is." He laughed making Daniella laugh along with him.

#5sos #luke hemmings #micheal clifford #calum hood #calum hood smut #calum and daniella #cause im a singer #ashton irwin #5sos fanfic #micheal 5sos #calum 5sos #luke 5sos #ashton 5sos

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letmeapologise · 1 year ago

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❝ 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ❞

.ೃ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ! 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 ✰ ´ˎ˗

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ⌇ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⌇ 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐞. 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭. 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬 ੈ✩‧₊˚

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⌇ 𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐝 "𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲" 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚

ೄྀ࿐ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ⌇ 𝟐.𝟑𝐤 !

↳ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ೃ⁀➷ 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐬 !

IT SEEMED AS IF NOTHING WAS GOING HIS WAY, even the weather; crisp air biting and nipping at the cut on his cheek, a sharp sting coming from it when the wind blew at his face. It was nine sixteen, somewhere in north-east London, he didn’t know where – Dushane just gave him an address and he drove over with Dris in the passenger seat, listening to him complaining about Erin being home alone. Sully eventually found the building he assumed they were staying in, and strolled up to it, eyeing two pedestrians walking on the other side of the road. The street lights flooded yellow shadows around him, he walked past it to the door with Dris tailing behind.

“Took your time, bruv,” Dushane shook his hand and gave him a side hug, doing the same with Dris as they made themselves acquainted in the decrepit building, Sully collapsing onto a sofa and spreading himself out onto it for comfort. He sighed deeply, there were various people gathered around the room, some youngsters even being there which was untypical. Everyone was decked out in black puffer jackets, only Jaq had her hood down, hands stilled in her pockets as she watched him and Dris be introduced to the room with a slight frown.

“What we doin’ then?” he glared at Dushane. “Fuck you mean what we doin’ Sully, take a guess,” he kissed his teeth and looked around the room, half-torn curtains flailing about in front of the window. He glared at one of the people in the back of the room, a black balaclava adorning their face. “Yo, what are you wearing a bali for, stupid yute,” he shouted, half-chuckling to himself at their apparent stupidity. They narrowed their eyes at him, staring right back. “Sully, calm down, fam. Leave her be,” he looked away, addressing everyone’s attention to the table in the centre of the room and jabbing a finger at it. “Listen, yeah, this is where we’re all gonna meet from now on. But don’t be stupid ‘n’ come in through the front entrance, go through the back ‘n’ only when you need to be here. Yeah?” people nodded, grumbling affirmations and their own understandings at him.

“What’s going on with Jaime then?” someone asked, Dushane contorted his face up as if disgusted by what they just said. “Don’t worry about Jaime, he’s just a yute. Worry about yourself,” he announced, his eyes searching around the room for whoever asked. There were a good twenty people crammed into the room, Sully was just surprised no one had nicked the seat he was sitting in before, though word had probably gotten around that he had told someone before to move off of one before, to say politely, it was more so a threat involving the gun stashed in the front of his jeans. “If it’s not an emergency or something that ain’t important, just meet in ends, don’t be stupid about it,” Dushane continued. “If I catch you here tryna waffle about what you’re doing, won’t end well for you, trust me,” he enunciated.

People nodded around the room, but out of the corner of his eye Sully could still see the masked individual giving him a dirty look. They were, as he described before, wearing a black puffer jacket like everyone else – must have been a new trend amongst the youngers – a black bali, with a matching black baseball cap, hands stuffed in their pockets – or her, as revealed by Dushane – must’ve been one of Jaq’s mates or some gyal Dushane was linking. Dushane was too boujee about his women, this one clearly wasn’t, Jaq’s mate it is. He glared at her momentarily, looking her up and down. Only her eyes were revealed, piercing into the side of Sully’s skull, maybe she was just thick or a junkie.

“A’ight, now get out. Don’t tell anyone ‘bout this place, yeah?” everyone ushered their way out except for Sully who was still lounging on the chair, Jaq, Dushane, and Dris, who was now smoking. Dushane tilted his head at him, ignoring the flow of teenagers beside him going out the door. “Yo, Dris. You taken your meds today?” he just nodded, Dushane smacked the cigarette out of his mouth and stood on it. “Stop takin’ other shit then.” Dris rolled his eyes, staring at the stamped out cigarette on the floor. “Fuckin’ dickhead,” he mumbled, Sully laughed, his eyes locked on the people still leaving until he noticed a necklace hanging around the masked woman’s neck, he frowned, recognising it and subtly pouting to himself. Then he saw the matching bracelet on her wrist, he stood up immediately, shouting at her while she was halfway out the door. “Yo, come ‘ere,” he flicked his head at her, she looked down and exhaled deeply, walking up to him without saying a word.

He looked down at her, at the necklace, different coloured links going round her neck and ending in the middle with a seashell; the same one he had bought before for his you. He was originally going to ignore it, being realistic to himself it was just a necklace, probably only cost one quid from a beachside shop. Maybe he was making a mistake entirely, he just wanted to make sure. Maybe she had stolen it from you. He remembered you pleading with him to get a matching necklace, and he just scoffed at you, grinning.

“I don’t like necklaces,” he had said, smiling at you while you looked up at him with pleading eyes, then held out a bracelet. “That’s why I got you this,” you had said, it was the exact same, but small enough to fit around someone’s wrist. He rolled his eyes as you laughed. “Please, Sully, come on. It would suit you, wanna remember this day don’t you?” the corner of his eyes crinkled, looking away and placing a hand over his head, then slipped the necklace on his wrist with thinned lips as you celebrated, dancing around in the sand in front of him. Of course he wanted to remember that day, it haunted his dreams and his nightmares so much that he woke up in cold sweats with visions of you sleeping beside him. Once he rubbed his eyes and cleared his vision you were no longer there. He had only given you the bracelet when he left to stop the nightmares, at least that’s what he told himself, he didn’t tell you anything. Just left it on your bedside table while you slept, unaware of him being there at all keeping in mind it was three in the morning and he had just broken into the house through an open window.

He had wondered if you always kept a window open for him, somewhere. In case you wanted him to come back. “Where’d you get the necklace ‘n’ bracelet?” he interrogated, she said nothing. “Why you wearing a hat inside too?” he criticised, still nothing. “Ay, what’s wrong with this bitch?” he stared at Dushane who looked at him as if he had something to say, but didn’t want to. He turned to Jaq. “Who is this yute?” he questioned her, she just shook her head, shrugging and looking at Dushane. “Why’s no one talking, ay?” he kissed his teeth. “Dickheads,” then pulled her into a separate room, still saying nothing. “Take off your bali,” she shook her head. “Hey, I said take it the fuck off.” She finally made an audible noise, kissing her teeth and tilting her head up at him, taking the baseball cap off and stuffing it in the back pocket of her tracksuit bottoms.

Then peeled off the balaclava bit by bit. Sully stared at you in shock, his eyes widened. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he hissed, half-pushing you against the wall of the room and locking the door best he could. You shoved him back, throwing the cap and the balaclava down onto the floor. “Why you so rude, man?” he furrowed his brows at you, his bottom lip tucked in. “I said, what the fuck are you doing here?” it was you, he couldn’t believe his own eyes, he knew he recognised the jewellery. He just couldn’t comprehend that his girlfriend – if you were still calling yourself that – was now in this industry, the one thing he didn’t want to happen, the one reason why he left in the first place.

“You fuckin’ left, Sully. What was I supposed to do?” he ran a hand over his face, exhaling deeply, murmuring profanities under his breath that gradually gained in volume. “Why here?” he hissed, his hands on your shoulders. “Why are you doing this?” he almost growled out, a rasp in his voice, you just kissed your teeth. “I dunno Sully, why’d you leave?” you continued, jabbing a finger at his chest while he looked away. “There’s your fuckin’ answer for you,” he sighed deeply, stepping back and basically kneeling onto the floor with his hands covering his face. He had loved you, present tense, he loves you, he will always love you; but this was overstepping the mark and you knew it. He couldn’t even imagine comparing you to the woman he left with his daughter a year ago, now you were decked out as he never even knew you, as if you were like him. He didn’t want you to be anything like him. You dreamed of a white picket fence life in a two-bedroom flat, you didn’t know what he dreamed of. That’s the problem, what did men like Sully dream of?

“Née, you have to go,” he reprimanded, not even looking at you. “Please, just go, it’s not worth it.” You looked down at him with a cruel glint in your eye, lip threatening to start quivering as you faced the man who left you. “What’s not worth it? What’s changed, Sully?” he looked up at you with a disappointed expression, his facial features hardened with an unbecoming guilt, as if he caused this, a corruption of something so pure. The whole point of him leaving last year was to keep you safe from a rival gang that was so very close to ending his own life, what was stopping them from using you as leverage? He couldn’t help himself, he needed to leave for your sake, of course he didn’t want to – he was selfish like that – but he had to, and yet the consequences of his actions got you into even more danger. “You were fine with doing this shit all those years before, when I said it wasn’t worth it,” you tore through him, adding to your argument.

“It’s different, it’s not like that, Née. It’s not that simple, you know that,” he mumbled. “Don’t fucking call me Née,” you sharply declared, both of you in silence, staring at each other until Sully returned to looking at the floor, staring at the dust residue beneath you and him – there was no more you and him – he held in a tingling sob threatening to escape through his mouth and nose. “What was I meant to say to tell Josie, huh?” you blinked at him, anger overcoming your senses and you had to hold yourself back from letting it do so, you had experience doing so in the last year. “What was I meant to tell our daughter,” you repeated. “When she asks me ‘where’s daddy’?” Sully was glad he was hiding his face from you, ashamed, as his eyes turned wet at the mention of his daughter, gulping back a wail, or a scream.

“Where’s daddy, huh?” you shook your head down at him, lip curling up as if you were about to cry, a single tear slipping out which you quickly wiped away without him seeing. You sniffled. “Sorry, baby. Daddy left ‘cause he’s too much of a fuckin’ pussy to stand up for himself ‘n’ his family, huh?” you shoved his shoulder again, he remained unmoving. “Why’d you fuckin’ leave, Sully?” you shouted. “Babe, I was gonna come back, I just needed time,” he mumbled his excuses, standing back up with gleaming eyes, you didn’t even correct his word of endearment, just shook your head at him with trembling lips, screwing your face up. “What was I meant to do? Wait for you? How long? Let me ‘n’ your daughter starve?” he shook his head dumbly at you.

“You didn’t put food on the fucking table, Sully. This is me stepping up for our daughter, so fuck off ‘n’ leave me be,” you leaned down and grabbed the balaclava and hat off of the floor, dusting it off with your shirt, stretching it out. He watched you unlock the door and leave, and opened his mouth, he didn’t even remember what came out of his mouth but all that it was met with was silence.

A few moments passed as he just stared blankly at the open door, then went through it, the group of people from earlier darting their eyes over at him as he came out through the door you just went through. “What, blud?” he narrowed his eyes at Dushane interrogatively. “Nothing, brudda,” he kissed his teeth, watching as Sully peeled back the curtains to watch you crossing the road with your headphones on. “Why’d you let her join, you fuckin’ wasteman?” Dushane raised his hands in mock surrender. “Listen, fam. She needed some p’s, we’re just helping her out, you know what I’m saying.” He glared at him, and then at the two other people in the room. “Fuck off,” he mumbled, walking towards the stairs and pulling his phone out his pocket.

୨୧ @𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐬𝐞. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 ୨୧

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bolt-x0 · 4 months ago

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Uhhh leucistic wannabe south china tiger EX but i forgor his scars augh

He says white furred tigers have softer fur but he spends 3 bajillion dollars on fur products and charges people to feel his hand (which isn’t even the white part)

Anyway I think I’m gonna make all the hermits into furries now but not gonna add facts for all of them (probably)

-there were nine subspecies of tiger, currently there are six with south china tigers being functionally extinct.

-the three extinct tigers were the Caspian tiger, Bali tiger, and the Javan tiger

-bengal tigers are typically larger than Siberian tigers, but Siberian tigers hold the record for largest ever tiger, making bengal tigers the second largest.

-the largest tiger ever weighed 384 kilograms (846 pounds)

-bengal tigers are the most aggressive of the subspecies.

-Caspian tigers were declared extinct in 2003 while the last sighting was in 1974.

-an experiment was run in a zoo in Thailand where a pig and tiger both gave birth around the same time, and then the babies were switched. The piglets were raised by the tiger, and the cubs raised by the pig. Later in life one of the tiger cubs would be given piglets to raise, she did well after a while but the experiment ended how you’d expect it to. The experiment was done to see if the piglets or tiger cubs would act any different, but from what I could tell it was mainly to see if the tiger could be ‘tamed’ in a sense.

#evil xisuma #evil x #evil x fanart #evil xisuma fanart #hermitcraft #hermitblr #furry

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leiflitter · 1 year ago

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now that i’ve asked you about regular head canons, give me your after oxford before you’re almost home headcanons, like what happened directly after the maze and such

Ahh so some of THAT will be going up in YAH so... there are no spoilers, and some of this has been mentioned so- under the cut time again my friend

Felix spent about 4ish months in a very expensive private clinic, but as always, he escaped major conequences because He Is Lucky.

He was also a major, major twat for the next term before his summer holidays. People still wanted to be around him, but he was calling people fake and kept leaving nights out and going back to his dorm and generally being a big emotional wreck. Felix did not understand why he did this, but he did it anyway! Hooray!

He always had to be facing the door in any pub/club/cafe/wherever because he was absolutely gearing up for some Big Confrontation With Oliver, except he never saw Oliver, so he was mad about that too.

Because his parents had wrangled him Special Treatment, he absolutely went a bit nocturnal.

Farleigh eventually told Elspeth that Felix was clearly Not Over Summer, and she planned their big summer tour/felix to Bali because she couldn't actually FACE it.

He listened to a lot of my chem and cried a lot and couldn't have said why if you'd asked him.

For Oliver? He was literally on tenterhooks until he found out that Felix survived. We're talking didn't eat, barely slept, roared through the summer reading list and barely came out of his bedroom. His parents were worried he was on drugs.

He left as soon as he could after Felix was found; he thought about taking the red robe with him but he was shaking too hard to pack properly. He did steal some little things (Felix's toothbrush, soap, a feather from the wings) that wouldn't be missed. He walked to the station. It took about an hour.

He found out Felix survived through a mass text sent by one of the minor Alpha Hotties about signing a Get Well Soon card for him.

Oliver absolutely reverted back to invisibility so hard the moment he was on campus. Farleigh MIGHT have seen him, but he's not telling.

He only cried after Christmas and he was in a new bedroom and a new college and finally able to guarantee he was alone.

Oliver legitimately did nothing except Study Hard for the next... Way too long, to be honest. He avoided the library apart from first thing in the morning. His parents paid for him to stay in Oxford over holidays, because he said he needed to. He got his degree a year early because he literally turned into a hermit.

He stopped reading the Society Pages when he saw the wedding announcement for Felix and Lucia- he didn't even get to Lucia's name before he tore it to shreds and had a very quiet breakdown before continuing with his work.

It took him a good nine years to acknowledge that, yes, he actually love-loved Felix. His therapist was very pleased, but Oliver was not.

#leiflitter rambles #srry it's vague but there will be some in YAH #yah!posting

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resident-gay-bitch · 10 months ago

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Modern au where the girls meet in college and get assigned random roommate and they’ve never met before because they are all study abroad students spending a year in the US. Lily from England is with Dorcas from an African country ( I don’t know which one to choose if I don’t choose mine lol so I’ll leave that to you). Mary ( not sure which country but I’m getting middle eastern vibes) is with Pandora ( I kind of want to give her mythology roots like Greek yk ? ). Marlene ( I want to give her Indonesia what do you think ?) with Alice ( definitely Europe vibes here )

Anyway they meet and bond about discovering American culture and how ridiculous some of the stuff is and they do make American friends but they keep coming back to each other and they become closer and closer but also the time comes that they each have to go back to their countries and you have a really tearful/angsty goodbye

Just feel like giving them really different backgrounds because it’s women history month and women from all around the world should be celebrated and also people from a lot of different countries are just really cool as a friend group

Anyway some head cannon for this au

Each of their dorm is fully decorated to the point you can see their personality when you enter the room

Mary is the kind to stay up to do homework and Pandora wakes up really early which creates some funny situations between them

All of them fight over who has the best cultural food ( Lily is not allowed to participate she is British/lh)

They do the American college thing to the full extent like going to football games, having parties and stuff and still aces their classes somehow

That was really long but oh well here are my two cents lol hope you like it <3 I really like your writing btw

Hi hi!!! Sorry for taking so long to respond to this, I saw it a few days ago and was too tired to respond and I’ve just been in a state of brain mush ever since.

Okay, I love this idea SO SO much! Especially them all coming together to be confused about American culture lol, I think that’s so funny.

I 100% agree with all of these ethnicities for them as well, I can see it all clearly (the Pandora being from Greece just makes sense idk why more people don’t HC this).

One headcannon I’ve been having lately is that Marlene is Australian because like, she is literally the definition of an Aussie bogan in my head (if you’ve never heard of Amyl and The Sniffers go check out their music because I think they’re SO Marlene Band Au coded).

And any Aussie out there will know this well and true, but for some reason all aussies just dip to Indonesia (specifically Bali) every winter to escape the cold, like it’s actually amusing how many just disappear over there. SO many of my friends have gone on Bali trips it’s ridiculous.

Anyway, you suggesting Marlene be from Indonesia just popped the best idea in my head where like her dad is Australian and took a trip with his mates to Bali. I’m thinking they would frequent the bar next to their hotel and get drunk there every night and he fell in love with one of the bartenders that snuck him free drinks every time he complimented her and then they hooked up one night and she got pregnant without realising and then he went home and she freaked out. Luckily she got his number because they fell in love and then like she moved to Australia to raise Marlene. I think that’s such a funny cute way to tie our headcannons together.

And yes Mary is 100% the type to stay up so late where as Pandoras in bed by nine and up with the sun.

Their rooms would be the swankiest rooms you’ve ever seen.

They would 100% all bully Lily for her comfort meal, which is beans straight out the can, and would all shove their fav foods down her throat. She’d love it though and pretend to complain about it all the time so all her friends would keep making her all these amazing snacks and meals.

They definitely would get involved with the whole American college experience but no one is prepared for how Marlene acts at the college football games. She’d spend one third of the game complaining about how this isn’t real football (Insert AFL which she grew up watching with her dad - footy), a second third of the game skulling beer and challanging random college boys to drink offs and shoeies (idk how to spell it, when you drink out of a shoe), and the last third screaming so hard when their team gets a point or goal or however it works and going balisic and booing the opposition and screaming about the unfair umpiring, and she’d 1000% be the loudest there.

Sorry, I’m passionate about Marlene.

But yessss this is such a good idea lol I love it! Thanks for sending in the ask, I really appreciate hearing about the girls <3

#jay answers #marauders #lily evans #mary mcdonald #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #pandora lovegood #alice fortescue #the valkyries #pandora rosier #lily potter #headcannon

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leasstories · 1 year ago

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Lea’s advent calendar 2023 - Masterlist

Day One : A dangerous festive decorative competition (Eddie Munson x gn!reader)

Day two: A cozy holiday night with Eddie (Eddie x gn!reader)

Day three : A Christmas in Bali (Eddie x gn!reader)

Day four : Mistletoe (Eddie x gn!reader)

Day five: A magical pocket watch (Eddie x gn!reader)

Day six: Scrooge Munson (Eddie x gn!reader)

Day seven: A cute winter night (Eddie x gn!reader)

Day eight: The snow battle (child!eddie x child!reader (gn)

Day nine: 1987 is gonna be our year (Eddie x gn!reader)

Day ten: First Christmas as a Family (dad!Eddie x mom!reader)

Day eleven: A Metal Gingerbread House (Eddie x gn!reader)

Day twelve: Not so Unrequited Feelings (Eddie x gn!reader)

Day thirteen: Scary (Dad!Eddie x mom!reader)

Day fourteen: Vacation with your Boss (Eddie x gn!reader)

Day fifteen: My dork (Eddie x gn!reader) coming soon

Day sixteen: You Had a Crush on Me? (Eddie x gn!reader)

Day seventeen : Distracted (Eddie x gn!reader)

Day eighteen : A Stressful Christmas Eve (Eddie x gn!reader)

Day nineteen : We will stick to it (Eddie x gn!reader)

Day twenty: Stuck Together (Eddie x gn!Reader)

Day twenty-one: You’re doing great (Eddie x gn!reader)

Day twenty-two: Eddie’s mischief (Eddie x gn!reader)

Day twenty-three : you’re the worst (Eddie x gn!reader)

Day twenty-four : Fate (Eddie x gn!reader)

Day twenty-five: A “fake” date (Eddie x fem!reader)

#Lea’s advent calendar #Lea’s advent calendar 2023 #navigation #masterlist #eddie munson x reader

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a-man-for-hire-and-his-archives · 1 year ago

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Luke Arnold, Bella Heathcote and Jay Ryan to star in new Stan Series Scrublands as the explosive trailer is released

A star-studded cast are preparing to bring a gripping crime novel to life on Stan.

Luke Arnold (Black Sails, Never Tear Us Apart: The Untold Story of INXS), Bella Heathcote (Stan Original Series CAUGH*T, Stan Original Film Relic) and Jay Ryan (It Chapter Two, Top of the Lake) will star in the brand new Stan Original Series Scrublands.

The Stan Original Series Scrublands premieres November 16, all episodes at once and only on Stan.

The TV adaptation is based on the best-selling novel written by Chris Hammer, and you can watch the first trailer in the video above.

We don't have long to wait, as the series will be released in full on November 16 on Stan.

Scrublands is set in an isolated country town, where a charismatic and dedicated young priest (Ryan) calmly opens fire on his congregation, killing five parishioners.

Martin Scarsden (Luke Arnold) and Jane Gibson (Eliza Matengu) arrive in Riversend. (Stan)

One year later investigative journalist Martin Scarsden (Arnold) arrives in Riversend to write what should be a simple feature story on the anniversary of the tragedy.

But when Martin's instincts kick in and he digs beneath the surface, the previously accepted narrative begins to fall apart and he finds himself in a life and death race to uncover the truth.

Joining Arnold, Ryan, and Heathcote in the cast are Zane Ciarma (Neighbours), Adam Zwar (Squinters), Victoria Thaine (Nowhere Boys), Robert Taylor (The Newsreader), Stacy Clausen (True Spirit), Genevieve Morris (Stan Original Series No Activity) and newcomer Ella Ferris.

The series is an Easy Tiger production co-commissioned by Stan and the 9Network, in association with VicScreen.

Easy Tiger Founder Ian Collie and CEO Rob Gibson said they immediately saw the potential in turning the novel into a gripping series.

"From the moment we opened Chris Hammer's ripping page-turner, we knew Scrublands was destined to be a must-watch crime series," they said.

"We're delighted that our partners at Stan and Nine agree wholeheartedly, and we're thrilled to work with the incredible team there to bring this to the screen, with the crucial support of VicScreen and international partners Abacus.

"In the masterful hands of director Greg McLean, writer/producer Felicity Packard and writers Kelsey Munro and Jock Serong, and producer David Redman, Scrublands will be an unmissable TV event for rusted-on Chris Hammer fans and everyone else alike."

Scrublands marks the second co-commission between 9Network and Stan following the Stan Original Series Bali 2002, an inspiring drama exploring how everyday heroes from Bali, Australia and beyond defied the odds to bring order from chaos and hope from despair.

Stan Chief Content Officer Cailah Scobie promised the new thrilled would be both "powerful and compulsive".

She said of the new series: "Following the immense success of Bali 2002, Stan is delighted to once again co-commission with the 9Network.

"A remarkable crime series set in Australia's unforgiving and harsh landscape, Easy Tiger has secured an outstanding core cast in Luke Arnold, Bella Heathcote and Jay Ryan and we look forward to collaborating with them on Scrublands."

The Stan Original Series Scrublands is directed by Greg McLean, written by Felicity Packard, Kelsey Munro and Jock Serong, produced by Ian Collie, Rob Gibson, David Redman, Felicity Packard with Executive Producers Michael Healy and Andy Ryan from the 9Network and Cailah Scobie and Amanda Duthie for Stan.

The Stan Original Series Scrublands premieres November 16, all episodes at once and only on Stan.

Source: Nine Australia

#black sails #luke arnold #john silver #scrublands #stan australia

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william-r-melich · 9 months ago

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A Two-Word Solution - 04/15/2024

I hate all this war stuff. I wasn't looking forward to writing this article, but it is something I must do. We find ourselves as a country in a precarious situation of teetering on the edge of being pulled into a major, global conflict. I gathered some information from Joshua Philipp's podcast on Epoch Times, Crossroads. He read the following from an article in the "Express" in UK, published at 10:12 (their local time) on Sunday, April 14, 2024, updated the same day at 12:06.

"The possibility of Iran ramping up its enrichment activities to acquire a nuclear weapon has sent shockwaves through the region and in the West."

"Iran has already vowed to launch a 'stronger' offensive against Israel's response to Saturday's attack."

"A new government-funded billboard in Palestine Square in Tehran was unveiled last night after Iran launched hundreds of drones, missiles, and rockets at Israel with Hebrew text."

"Senior Iranian figures have urged Supreme Leader Khamenei to reconsider the country's stance on nuclear weapons, with calls to cancel the existing fatwa against their assembly."

"The shift in rhetoric has led to speculation in the West about Iran's intentions and the Supreme Leader's willingness to entertain the idea of pursuing nuclear armament."

"Mahmoud-Reza Aghamir, a prominent nuclear physics professor with ties to the Iranian regime, further fueled suspicions by suggesting that 'it would be a lot easier to build a bomb than to keep holding so much enriched uranium at high levels.'"

"Iran's possession of 150 Kilograms of uranium enriched to 60 percent" (which is the threshold for Israel to send counter attacks against Iran.) "has raised alarms about the potential for weaponization."

"Israel is closely monitoring these developments, aware that any move towards nuclear capabilities by Iran could prompt a significant military response from the United States."

"The fear is that Iran could discretely advance its nuclear program, leaving intelligence agencies as the only means of detecting such activities."

Sounds pretty iffy to me, a lot of what they could do. Yet, I suppose Israel needs to error on the side of pre-empting any possible nuclear attack. After Iran sent over 200 missiles and drones toward Israel, Israel, the U.S., and other allies knocked down 99% of them, leaving very little damage and seriously injuring a 10 year-old girl. My heart and thoughts go out to her and her family, I hope she'll be okay.

On his podcast this morning, Joshua Philipp had stated that the United States policy of MAD (Mutually Assured Destruction) is no longer in place. So, if a country uses a nuclear bomb on us or one of our major allies, then we would nuke them. When Russia threatened had threatened to possibly nuke Ukraine, the U.S. only threatened Russia with "economic and diplomatic harm." That's too weak of a response, in my opinion. So, if they use a nuke, we'll use a money-clip. Hell, we might as well use a paperclip.

I caught an informative article on Josh's show this morning which came from Time magazine back in November 2022, the headline reads:

"World Leaders Condemn Putin's War, Nuclear Threats Amid Pressure Campaign Against Russia"

"The U.S. and other world leaders issued a joint declaration Wednesday condemning Russia's War in Ukraine and denouncing threats of using nuclear weapons, an intimidation tactic that's become commonplace for Russian President Vladimir Putin since launching his invasion nine months ago."

"'The use or threat of use of nuclear weapons is inadmissible', read the statement, composed by the world's 20 largest economies. 'The peaceful resolution of conflicts, efforts to address crises, as well as diplomacy and dialogue, are vital. Today's era must not be of war.'"

"The 17-page document marks a victory for the Biden Administration and global allies, which sought to end this year's summit in Bali, Indonesia with a statement censuring Russia for its unprovoked military campaign in Ukraine. In recent weeks, the Biden team has launched a discreet, multi-pronged effort to pressure Moscow to dial back the increasingly reckless bluster that has sparked fears the world was nearing the brink of nuclear war."

"Through a series of one-on one discussions and back channels between top U.S. and Russian officials, combined with diplomatic maneuvering with other nations' leaders, the Administration has worked to get Putin and his government to stop threatening the use of nuclear weapons on the battlefield in Ukraine, where Moscow has faced mounting losses, this fall."

"In a rare disclosure on Monday, the White House revealed CIA Director William Burns met with his Russian counterpart Sergey Naryshkin in Ankara, Turkey's capital, to discuss potential costs to the Kremlin if it decides to use a nuclear weapon in the Ukraine conflict. 'He is not conducting negotiations of any kind,' a White House spokeswoman said. 'He is conveying a message on the consequences of the use of nuclear weapons by Russia, and the risks of escalation to strategic stability.'"

"The same day, President Joe Biden and Chinese President Xi Jinping issued a joint-statement that said nuclear weapons should never be used, particularly in Ukraine. The rebuke was notworthy considering Beijing has tacitly approved of Putin's actions and shown reticence to join the international community's widespread condemnation of invasion."

"Read more: U.S. Unveils Strategy Threats from China and Russia."

"The message the U.S. seeks to send is clear: if Moscow goes nuclear in Ukraine, it will only experience further economic and diplomatic isolation on the world stage. There are indications that the strategy, which has gathered momentum behind the scenes since late September after Putin illegally annexed four occupied regions of Ukraine then suggested he'd defend the territory with nuclear arms, may be working. Putin back tracked late last month by stating Russia would gain nothing through launching a nuclear strike. 'We see no need for that,' he said October 27 at a conference of international foreign policy experts. 'There is no point in that, neither political nor military.'"

"Concerned observers are cautiously optimistic that the U.S. approach will continue to draw Putin away from the nuclear threshold, but they worry about the ongoing instability of relation between the world's foremost nuclear powers. 'The Biden team has been effective in cautioning Putin not to cross the nuclear line, warning of the consequences, and quietly encouraging others with influence like China to provide similar messages to Putin. They've done this very adeptly while avoiding provocations,' says Lynn Rusten, vice president at the Nuclear Threat Initiative and former senior official on arms control." In my opinion, I think this writer is being too kind to Briben (Biden). I really don't think he's effective in deterring Putin's aggression.

This next article just came out in the Epoch Times: "Israel Announces It Will Respond to Iran Missile Attack as Airlines Cancel Flights to Region." It begins with this: "Israel's miliary chief said on April 15 that Israel will respond to Iran's missile and drone attack, but it's not clear how or when."

"Herzi Halevi, head of the Israel Defense Forces, told reporters that Iran's strikes "will be met with a response" without elaborating. He spoke during a visit to the Nevatim air base, which Israel sayts suffered light damage in the Iranian attack.

“Iran wanted to harm the strategic capabilities of the State of Israel—that is something that had not happened before. We were prepared for the ‘Iron Shield’ operation—preparation that brought Iran to also meet air superiority,” he said. “Last Monday, we saw what was being organized, and we think that the State of Israel is very strong and knows how to deal with it alone, but with a threat so numerous and so far away, we are always happy to have [the United States] with us. Looking ahead, we are considering our steps, and this launch of so many missiles, cruise missiles, and UAVs into the territory of the State of Israel will be met with a response.”

"Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has been huddling with top officials to discuss a possible response to Iran’s attack involving hundreds of drones, ballistic missiles, and cruise missiles."

"Iran’s attack on April 13 was the first time Tehran directly targeted Israel since the current regime took over in 1979. However, the country has been engaged in proxy attacks against both Israel and the United States originating from a number of Middle Eastern countries."

"On April 15, a number of airline companies canceled or delayed flights again after the Iranian missile and drone attack. United Airlines and Air Canada, notably, canceled some flights into Tel Aviv as well as flights into Jordan."

"Iranian officials said the attack was carried out in response to an Israeli airstrike on April 1 on a Syrian compound that left two Iranian generals and other officials dead."

"'Our response will be much larger than tonight’s military action if Israel retaliates against Iran,' armed forces chief of staff Maj. Gen. Mohammad Bagheri told state-run media in articles published on April 14. He claimed that Iran warned the United States through Switzerland that any support of an Israeli counterattack against Iran would lead to American assets being targeted."

"After the drones and missiles were launched, the Iranian Revolutionary Guard issued a direct warning to the United States through state-run IRNA that the 'U.S. government is warned any support or participation in harming Iran’s interests will be followed by decisive and regretting response by Iran’s armed forces.'"

U.S. National Security Council spokesman John Kirby said this on April 15 on whether the U.S. will be briefed on any response plans of Israel: "We will let the Israelis speak to that. "We are not involved in their decision-making process about a potential response."

"The Iranian attack on April 13 was the first time that Iran has launched a direct military assault on Israel, despite decades of enmity dating back to the country’s 1979 Islamic Revolution. The attack happened less than two weeks after a suspected Israeli strike in Syria that killed two Iranian generals in an Iranian consular building."

"Israel’s military stated that its Arrow system, which shoots down ballistic missiles outside the atmosphere, handled most interceptions and noted that 'strategic partners' were involved."

"U.S. Defense Secretary Lloyd Austin said in a statement that U.S. military forces 'intercepted dozens of missiles and UAVs en route to Israel, launched from Iran, Iraq, Syria and Yemen,' referring to a term used for unmanned aerial vehicles."

"'At my direction, to support the defense of Israel, the U.S. military moved aircraft and ballistic missile defense destroyers to the region over the course of the past week,' President Joe Biden said in a separate statement over the past weekend. “Thanks to these deployments and the extraordinary skill of our service members, we helped Israel take down nearly all of the incoming drones and missiles."

"Israel and Iran have been on a collision course throughout Israel’s six-month war against Hamas terrorists in the Gaza Strip after members of the group carried out a cross-border attack that left more than 1,200 civilians dead. More than 250 people were kidnapped during the Oct. 7, 2023, incident, according to officials. Israel’s government is still negotiating with Hamas for the release of the remaining hostages."

"The Associated Press contributed to this report."

With the weakness of the current appeaser-in-thief, Shmoe Briben (Joe Biden), this is absolutely the worst time for an imminent threat of a world war, let alone a nuclear one. I see this compromised-corrupt-oatmeal-for-brains-commie-ander-in-disbelief as not doing any affective deterrence, lying all the time and saying all the wrong things as he makes everything about himself on what a great job he's doing; all the while he's really been doing everything possible to cause this horrible situation which never would have happened under Donald Trump. Yes, most definitely he caused this dumb war by funding a major adversary of ours with billions of dollars which went directly to the terrorists who barbarically raped, tortured, and murdered so many innocent Israeli citizens; men, women, and children: brutally cutting out eyes, chopping off limbs, burning and beheading babies. Briben has a lot of blood on his hands which makes me both sickened and angry to the core. This kid-sniffing, corrupt bag of a rotting maggot, sub-human creature in the White House; wantonly funding such demon-savage, terrorist thugs is a heinous act driven by stupidity on steroids on a level of evil that falls perpetually deep into the infinite pits of darkness...

Yet, my hope is that I'm wrong in assuming that he'll not do enough of the right thing, and too much of the wrong thing to prevent a major global conflict. Realistically, I don't think it will come to that because Iran has to know that in spite of all the wokeness in our military at the top ranks, we would wipe them off the map in a direct war with them. I believe that China is waiting in the wings for us to get involved with at least a couple more wars while being hit with multiple, domestic terror attacks so that we'll be distracted and spread out thinly enough to give them a better chance at defeating us. We must make it to the election this November and get Trump re-elected. We must defeat Shmoe Briben, as Trump says, "get out of here, you're fired!" If we don't, we'll be seriously futticked! What a mess! Aside from the obvious, needed act of cutting off all the funding to Iran and their terrorist proxies, I have a simple, 2-word solution; stop fighting!

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