#but it was the first thing i thought of when he made his first appearance

[goldfades]

HOTTEST COUPLE IN THE ROOM ───JB⁹

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2.5k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | requested! -> "Joe x Dallas cowboy cheerleader reader"

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | reader is kinda perceived as bitchy, and not a cookie-cutter dcc. lots of a banter, leads to relationship.

⟢ ┈ 𝐞𝐯'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | my new fav thing EVER

The bass shakes the floor beneath your heels, the scent of top-shelf liquor and expensive cologne thick in the air. The postgame party is exactly what you expected—too many people, too much noise, and a lingering sense of competition that doesn’t quite fade even after the game’s final whistle. Cowboys and Bengals players mix like oil and water, good-natured jabs tossed between sips of whiskey, the occasional laugh laced with something sharper.

You don’t want to be here.

But when the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders make an appearance, it’s not optional. It’s PR. It’s “team camaraderie.” It’s smiling through gritted teeth while some dude in a suit with more money than personality tells you how impressive it is that you can do a perfect high kick in full glam.

You adjust the hem of your dress, shifting against the leather couch tucked in the VIP section. It’s not that you’re bad at playing the part. You just don’t fit the mold the way you’re supposed to. The other girls—prim, polished, always camera-ready—glide through the room like they were born for this. You, on the other hand, are already toeing the line of “too much.” Too opinionated, too unpredictable, too unwilling to be anything other than exactly who you are.

And yet, you’re still here. Because when you dance, they shut up about the rest.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show,” a voice drawls beside you, cutting through the music.

Your gaze shifts, locking onto the last person you expected to seek you out tonight. Joe Burrow.

His suit jacket is slung over his arm, the sleeves of his crisp white button-down rolled up just enough to give him that effortlessly put-together look. He’s got that half-smirk that’s made him a social media obsession, and yet there’s something else in his expression—curiosity, maybe. Amusement.

You raise a brow. “Didn’t think you knew who I was.”

“Oh, I know who you are.” His eyes flicker, something sharp and knowing in them. “Hard to miss the cheerleader who doesn’t play by the rules.”

You tilt your head, feigning offense. “I play by the rules.”

Joe huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Nah. You don’t. You just make it look like you do.”

And there it is. The first crack in the game, the unspoken understanding settling between you like a drawn line in the sand.

It should be nothing.

But somehow, it doesn’t feel like nothing.

You lean back against the couch, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, the other toying with the rim of the drink you don’t actually want. The ice clinks softly as you swirl it, eyes flicking back to Joe, unimpressed but not entirely disinterested.

“Wow,” you deadpan. “Joe Burrow knows my reputation. I guess I can retire now.”

Joe huffs a quiet laugh, the kind that barely shakes his shoulders. “Just saying, you don’t blend in.”

You lift a brow. “Neither do you.”

His smirk deepens, just a little. “Difference is, I’m supposed to stand out.”

You roll your eyes. “God, you’re worse than I thought.”

Joe blinks, feigning offense. “Worse?”

“Yeah.” You tilt your head, taking him in. “I figured you’d at least let me get a word in before pulling the ‘I’m Joe Burrow’ card.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

The smirk on his face falters just a fraction, like he’s recalculating his approach. He came over here thinking he’d charm you with minimal effort, just like he probably does with every other girl in this room. You can’t blame him. You’re used to guys like him��ones who assume that a few smooth lines and a good jawline will be enough to win you over. It’s exhausting, really.

Joe, to his credit, seems to pick up on it quickly. He shifts his stance, dropping the easy arrogance just a notch, watching you like he’s trying to figure out a new play mid-game.

“So, you don’t like football players,” he guesses.

“I never said that.”

“You don’t seem impressed.”

“I’m just not easily impressed.”

Joe clicks his tongue, shaking his head like he’s been personally challenged. “Tough crowd.”

You let out a short laugh, finally taking a sip of your drink. The warmth spreads through you, smoothing the edges of your already sharp tongue. “Look, I get it. You’re Joe Cool, media darling, golden boy, future Hall of Famer, blah, blah, blah. But none of that tells me who you actually are.”

Joe’s quiet for a beat, like he wasn’t expecting you to cut through the bullshit so quickly. Most people don’t.

He studies you. “You wanna know who I am?”

“I wanna know if you can hold a conversation that doesn’t involve your highlight reel.”

Joe grins, shaking his head like you’re more trouble than he bargained for—but not the kind he wants to walk away from.

“Alright,” he says, leaning in slightly. “Let’s make it fair. Since you’re so uninterested in my career, how about I ask about yours?”

You narrow your eyes. “Go for it.”

He tilts his head. “You always wanted to be a cheerleader?”

You pause for a fraction of a second. It’s not a bad question, but it’s not the usual small talk either. It’s got an edge to it, like he’s actually curious.

“No,” you admit. “I wanted to be an astronaut.”

Joe snorts. “Serious?”

“As a heart attack.” You smirk. “But apparently, NASA frowns upon people who talk back to their instructors.”

Joe laughs now, really laughs, and it does something to his face—makes it lighter, less perfectly put-together. It’s a nice look on him.

“So, you settled for the next most intense program?” he asks.

“Something like that.” You glance around the room, at the Cowboys players, the other cheerleaders, the high-profile guests all schmoozing and clinking glasses. “DCC is its own version of NASA. Just with more hairspray and stricter calorie counts.”

Joe hums, considering that. “And yet, you don’t seem the type to take orders.”

You shrug. “I don’t. But I’m really, really good at what I do.”

His gaze lingers for half a second too long. “Yeah,” he says, low and thoughtful. “I bet you are.”

There’s something about the way he says it that makes your breath catch for just a second—not because you’re flustered, but because it feels like he actually sees you, past the sequins and forced smiles and PR obligations.

You tap your nails against your glass, breaking whatever was starting to settle between you. “Well, congrats,” you say, all light and teasing again. “You managed to hold a conversation without bringing up your own stats.”

Joe grins, lazy and triumphant. “And?”

You take a slow sip, watching him over the rim of your glass. “You’re not completely insufferable.”

Joe laughs, leaning back into the couch. “I’ll take it.”

The first date wasn’t supposed to happen.

At least, not in your mind.

But Joe had this way of slipping through the cracks of your carefully built walls, catching you off guard in a way that wasn’t annoying, but intriguing. So, when he had looked at you across that crowded party and said, “One drink. No football talk,” you had rolled your eyes, but ultimately, you had agreed.

One drink turned into three. A post-midnight drive through downtown. A completely ridiculous bet over who could name more obscure 90s songs (you won, obviously). And then, somehow, a second date.

And that was the real surprise.

Because by then, you figured you had him pegged. Star quarterback, smooth operator, probably used to women falling over themselves to impress him. But the Joe you saw away from the cameras, when it was just the two of you in a dimly lit hole-in-the-wall bar or sprawled out on his couch, eating takeout straight from the boxes, was different. He was easy in a way that felt familiar, like a song you hadn’t heard in years but still knew all the words to.

And he got you.

Most guys would tense up when you made some sarcastic comment, unsure if they should be amused or offended. Joe just smirked and shot one right back, quick and sharp like one of his passes. The banter was effortless, the chemistry undeniable, but it never felt forced.

It felt like you’d known him forever.

Which was dangerous.

Because you weren’t supposed to like him this much.

But a few months flew by before you could think too hard about it.

One minute, you were rolling your eyes at him in a Dallas bar. The next, you were sneaking glances at your phone in the middle of DCC rehearsals, trying not to smile at whatever nonsense he had just texted you.

Then came the flights.

You found yourself booking tickets to Cincinnati more often than you’d ever expected, trading in your Texas sunsets for the sharp chill of Ohio air, showing up in his city like you belonged there. And the crazy part? It never felt inconvenient. You had never been the type to rearrange your schedule for a guy, but with Joe, it was different. He made the effort too—catching flights to see you between games, showing up unannounced just to grab dinner, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

It should’ve been overwhelming, but it wasn’t.

Because nothing about Joe was ever boring.

You’d expected the excitement in the beginning—the flirty back-and-forth, the teasing, the lingering looks that stretched longer than they should. But what you hadn’t expected was the way he made everything feel lighter. How he made you laugh when you were dead on your feet after an exhausting game day. How he somehow always knew when you needed to talk and when you just needed to sit in comfortable silence.

And yeah, the tension was there. Always.

You weren’t blind, and Joe sure as hell wasn’t either. There were moments—when his hand lingered on your lower back a second too long, when you caught him watching you with that unreadable expression, when he pulled you into a hug that felt like it meant something more.

But neither of you pushed it. Not yet.

For now, it was enough to just exist in whatever this was.

And, for the first time in a long time, you weren’t in any rush to define it.

The New York City skyline stretched high above the venue, lights twinkling like they were in on the secret that tonight was something different.

Joe didn’t hide you.

He hadn’t from the start, really, but there was a difference between showing up for each other in private and standing next to him now, his hand resting low on your back, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress like he wanted everyone to see exactly where you belonged.

And you?

You looked good enough to ruin a man’s career.

Your dress was the kind that turned heads—sleek, with just enough edge to remind people that you weren’t the typical quarterback’s girlfriend. Joe wasn’t intimidated by it, wasn’t the type to shrink when his girl demanded attention. No, if anything, he was thriving on it. Walking into the party with you on his arm, chin high, like he knew for a fact that you were the hottest couple in the room.

And you were.

It didn’t matter that the place was full of some of the most famous athletes in the league, that models and influencers and A-listers milled around with expensive drinks in hand—no one looked as good as the two of you together.

Joe left you only once, leaning down to murmur, “Gonna get us a drink, don’t go too far.”

You weren’t worried about being left alone. You’d been in these rooms before, could handle yourself just fine.

But apparently, someone didn’t get the memo.

The moment Joe was out of earshot, a presence settled beside you—too close, too confident.

“Damn, haven’t seen you in a minute.”

You already knew you were going to hate him before you even looked.

And sure enough, when you turned, there he was. A Cowboys player, one you’d interacted with just enough to know he was exactly the type you had no patience for. Cocky in a way that wasn’t charming, self-important in a way that made your skin itch.

You barely had time to open your mouth before he bulldozed on.

“So, what, you finally got tired of playing in the kiddie pool and upgraded?” He grinned, not even waiting for you to respond. “Figured it was only a matter of time. The whole ‘untouchable cheerleader’ thing was getting old.”

You smiled. Smirked, really. Because this? This was amusing.

He thought you were flustered. Thought you were scrambling for a way out.

Like you hadn’t been shutting down men like him since the first time you ever put on that DCC uniform.

“Oh, yeah,” you said, voice smooth as silk. “Joe’s an upgrade, alright.” You tilted your head, eyes dragging over him in an exaggerated once-over. “But considering what I was working with before, it really didn’t take much.”

His smile flickered, but he was too stubborn to let it go. “C’mon, you don’t have to pretend with me. I know you, remember? Back when you were just another Dallas girl trying to play hard to get?”

You actually laughed at that.

Not a fake, polite one. A real one. Because this was just sad.

“Wow,” you mused. “I’ve gotta give it to you, you commit to the bit. Most guys would’ve tapped out by now, but you? You’re still going. That’s dedication.”

His jaw tensed just slightly. “I’m just saying, no need to act all high and mighty. We both know you used to—”

“Used to what?”

Your voice was still sweet, still playful, but the underlying steel was there. And when you took a slow sip of your drink, watching him over the rim, it was clear you were letting him dig his own grave.

Before he could figure out how to claw his way out, a shadow loomed beside you.

Joe.

But not in the swooping, Oh no! My girl is in distress! way.

No, he was calm. Casual. Like he had all the time in the world. His presence alone was enough to shift the energy in the conversation, but you didn’t even acknowledge him yet. You wanted to see just how long it would take for the guy in front of you to realize he’d lost.

Turns out, not long.

Joe didn’t say anything, just leaned slightly against the bar, watching with mild interest. But the weight of his presence alone did something to your uninvited guest—made him shift uncomfortably, made his easy confidence crack just a little.

And that? That was satisfying.

“I was just catching up with your girl,” the Cowboy muttered, backtracking so fast you almost wanted to laugh.

Joe didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah?” He glanced at you, finally acknowledging you with a knowing smirk. “You having fun?”

You took another sip, grinning. “Oh, loads.”

The guy beside you tensed. “I was just—”

“Leaving?” you supplied helpfully.

His mouth opened. Closed. Then, without another word, he turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Joe chuckled, finally handing you the drink he had left to get. “You were having way too much fun with that.”

You shrugged, taking a sip. “Can you blame me?”

He shook his head, draping an arm lazily around your waist, pulling you in just slightly. “Guess not.”

And the night went on.

Just you and Joe. The hottest couple in the room.

[keferon]

I’ve been reading through your Spellbound AU and thought of something funny, so naturally I wrote a short story for it.

My take on how Jazz came to work for Orion.

———————————————————————

Jazz slunk across ruined stonework overtaken by forest growth. Form shifting as subtly as the shadows he crossed.

Which would it be?

Tall and slim? Nah, that one already served it’s purpose. The twins saw something lank and dark looming in the trees, and now the young knights were distracted looking over their shoulders.

A hulking brute? No, that’d inspire an all out confrontation. Jazz already had all of them keyed up to act on instinct.

The twins were easy. Young and expecting a straight fight. Pax, his target, was harder to ruffle. He had the reputation of a courageous selfless hero and damned if the mech wasn’t dedicated to the ruse.

Pax wasn’t spooked, but he did take his underlings concerns seriously. He marched forward as a pillar of confidence and safety, but Jazz caught the way his gaze scanned the ruins. His white shadow seemed indifferent, but he was just an audience member anyways, not a real fighter.

Primed to play the part. Pax just needed his queue.

Jazz got into place on his stage. He shifted into something small and weak (in appearance alone). Bent a leg at an unhealthy looking angle, and slumped like he was exhausted and chased here.

Jazz sat with his back against the wall, the partially collapsed stone room was small enough that a mech of Orion’s stature would have difficulty moving quickly. It had the nice bonus of blocking anyone else from coming through the main entry point as well.

Through a crack in the wall, Jazz watched as the leader in blue and red got closer, his “loyal knights” lagging behind. The white one lagged as well, distracted by scolding the twins for being distracted.

Jazz focused on his target. Pulled at a thread from within Pax and strung it within his own chest.

Jazz set his new voice and with all the terror and innocence he could conjure screamed.

H̴͉̮́͂͗̐͌̍̇E̸̡̞̅̎̒͗͂L̷̛̻͎̮̽̏͝͝P̴̛̭͈͌̔̃̊͛̓ ̶͉̩̖̔͛͋̃ͅP̴̫͔̖͔̼͗̑̔͘͝L̸͓̣͖̫̭͎̊́̑̀͐̈́Ḙ̶͕̪̳̟̥͂̓̈̅͂͝Á̵̖̳̱͙͋ ̸̭̤̹̔͑͒̈͆̓͘Ȏ̵̡̥͈̪̟͛́̑͆̐͜Ḣ̷̡̻̪̘̯̹̊̂́̒͠ ̷̭̭͕̙̟̬͈̇̄̌̅̂̚̕W̸̺̯̦͔̼͇̄H̷͖͛̎͐̄͊̂͝À̶̘̙̈́̎͛̒͘ͅṰ̴̻͉̜͂̐̽̀̇ ̴̬͓̝̞̀̆̕T̸̙̖̲̺̯̆͛͜Ḥ̵̱͚͕͔̆̉ͅȆ̶͙̆́́̌̋ ̵̧͔͔̰̰̰͕̿͂̆̂̅̅F̵͕̘̰͓̓̔͜͜U̵̧̝̳̔̍̇̅̿͜͜͝Ç̵͎̎̓̒̓̊̂K̷̨̈́?̶̱͈̖̺̘͓͆̄͒͋

He slapped a hand over his mouth.

Outside, everyone went deathly quiet. Jazz didn’t dare move.

“Um.” Spoke their fearless leader.

Who apparently had thing for asthmatic dragons.

“Are you alright in there?”

Movement started to approach his hidey hole. Jazz could still salvage this. He could.

The white shadow came through first. Damn it. New plan: save own life.

Jazz plucked a new voice from him and made himself look as unthreatening as possible.

“ - ?! !”

Nothing. He loves the concept of nothing. Not even a celebrity crush? A favorite singer? The sound of his own voice?

Some of the functionalists were like that. That’s probably half the reason they “allowed” him to take on their commissions. All the money in their coffers wasn’t worth this however.

The white mech frowned, scanning over Jazz with a cold blue look. He turned back to the entrance, “Sir, there is a ‘hypothetically’ injured person inside the building. Most likely they orchestrated our current circumstances in an attempt to assassinate you.”

Jazz lunged from the wall, dagger slipping between armor gaps to pierce the spoil-sports spark, ready to dash past in the resulting chaos when his lifeless body guttered before them.

And just like his voice, Jazz got nothing instead.

He gaped at the way his blade cut into hollow air beneath the plates. Numbly, he pulled out his dagger and stabbed again, like it’d do something different this time. The mech was unamused.

“Sir, the assassin is trying to assassinate me.”

Jazz pulled a working voice, “I̷͕͍̓̒͝ͅ’̵̝̂m̵̼̲̓́ ̷͚̑́͗͜n̶̢̬͈̉o̷̦̓̎͝ṱ̶̟̼͒͊ ̵̨̮̠̿̀ǎ̷̫̹n̶̫̜̚̕ ̸̹͙͐a̵̛̯̻̹s̶͍̈́s̵̳̲͎͂a̷̻͉̅͆̑s̴̛̫̞̽̈s̵̳̑į̸̝̽̊n̷̙̟̤͊!̸̪̃”. And discontinued his failing assassin attempt to cringe.

A massive hand closed around Jazz’s wrist, stopping him cold.

“Do not.” Orion lessened his grip but did not release him, “Harm my friends.”

Jazz had to crane his head back considerably to make eye contact. Orion was built like a brick house and Jazz had enough experience fighting mechs like him to know his kill window was gone.

Groveling it is!

“Į̷̧̲̍͝ ̴̟̩̗̀̿̊a̵̹͙̔m̵̠̜̳͍̀̽̾̏ ̷͕͕̔̿͆̂s̸̡͋ơ̵̦̜ ̶͍̫͔͔̒̈̈́̌s̶̻͓͔̆͜ò̸͙̥̻̀r̷̢̠̈r̵̘͑̎͂y̸̰͓͆͗̔.̵̯͇́̌͒ ̵̳̞̏̇̕I̶̦͚̦͠’̸̞̯͙̟́ḿ̵̢̜̅̍͜ͅ ̴̮̩͓̀̓̈͜j̷̻̒̀u̷̯͂͋ŝ̴̭͇̱͎͑͆ẗ̶͎̬͗́͝ ̷̥̰̗̃a̸̼̫̦̾̚ ̶͕͉̓͌͋͝d̴͖̗̰̒̎̈͘ͅe̸̗̞̤̲̽͗̈́͛s̸̖͐p̵̢̎͊e̴͖͉͑̿̾͘��r̶̩̬̰̈́́ą̵̧̰̋̊͝t̶̻̯̞̦̆e̷̱̥̪̍͜ ̴̠̱̼̣̌̾t̴̙̐̔h̵̟̪͈͛̚ǐ̶͕ě̴̻̺f̸͕̠̯̤̀̆!̷̗̩̩̃̽ ̷̮̩̆̾Ǐ̷͍̭ ̴͕͕́ṅ̸̗̰e̸̯̱̝͚͆͂v̴̛͓͉͇̍́e̴̺̞͖͂͑̏͐͜r̶̢̼͠ ̴̗͙̐͒̋̚m̸͓͆͐e̶̱̩͕̐̚͠a̵͉͇̟̺̋̇̑n̶̢̖̙̣̾͝t̷̘̔ ̵̦̉̈́̈́͗t̵̳̻͇̔̎̃͜o̴͈͖̓ ̵̬̦̞͖͌͋͂͆h̷̲̓͑̎̃a̵̛͇̾͗r̵̠̗̩̾̏̈̚m̸̭̃ ̷̢̗͇͈͑͊a̵̧̠͑̒̚ ̵̢͉̮̌̀k̵̼͈͎̳͒̀̐͂ǹ̸̛̘͈͔í̶͓̜̜͉g̸̨̖̗̜̽͊ĥ̷͉̫͉̻̾̽̉t̵̜̣̲̹̑ ̸̡͒̃o̶̮͉̺͝r̷̬̎̓̚͝ ̵̡̠̩̓̈́̐̏ḣ̶̨͖̼̥̎́i̶̖̋͝s̷̻͍̭̒͜ ̵̢̖͓̿̍̌̾f̶̣̜̒̎r̶̝̈͊̍̋ǐ̶̝͓̱̱̆̐ẹ̷́̅n̴̢̛̘̍ḑ̷̪̈́̀͒̚ŝ̷͍̹!̷̪͙͕̬̐ ̵̨̡͆̏P̸̧̢̼̿͝l̶̡̧͔̳̍̉͋̆ẽ̶͉ȁ̸̦̜̤̀̉ͅs̴̮̙͍̘̐̂̉e̴͇͚͊̔̈́͋ ̸̧̳͒̈̃͠h̸̡̧̰͛̈͐ͅḁ̷͔̗̱̓̌̉v̸͖̼͓̜̽̏ę̵̬̤͎̄̅̓͆ ̷͍̯̗̥̋̀͛̉m̸̹͈͔̑͂͠ͅé̴͎͕ȑ̴̢̖̘̎c̴͙͇͙̤̐̔͒̕y̷̨͈͗͛͛!̶̹͝͝”

Orion cringed behind the mask.

“I- I’m sorry I don’t think I quite understood that.” He paused, “Would…you like a cough drop?”

Orion seemed to take stock of what he had on him, patting his sides with his free hand. He turned to the white mech.

“Prowl, would you happen to…um nevermind.” He turned to the twins, “Sunstreaker?Sideswipe? Do either of you have a cough drop?”

The twins searched their pockets for a magically appearing cough drop. Jazz searched for his sanity.

Jazz plucked a voice from the twins and couldn’t care less which it came from.

“Listen!” Oh thank fuck the twins were normal.

Jazz smiled while slowly uncurling Orions fingers from his wrist. Prowl narrowed his gaze at the new voice.

“You got me! I’m a thief! And I panicked! And I am so, so, so-.”

“A mimic.”

Smile frozen in place, Jazz turned his head so slowly there was an audible grounding noise.

Prowl remained impassive.

“Um.” And Orion…let him? Pull his wrist free. “Are you going to continue trying to kill me?”

Jazz snapped back to Orion, his target. The words aren’t what gave him pause, but how he said them. Like he just asked Jazz “Are you sure you want to go with puce green?” As if the mech was more concerned that Jazz was going to make a poor decision than for his own wellbeing.

“No.” Jazz said definitively. Because Primus knows he lost the upper hand now and wasn’t aiming to try again so soon.

“Are you genuinely in need of money? Food and shelter?” Orion continued, optics softening.

Jazz didn’t recognize the play. He bit his lip beneath the cowl.

Jazz decided to capitalize on whatever got him the most sympathy. He nodded seriously. “Yes. Of course. It’s not easy when the functionalists decide you’re a monster.” A bit of a lie and a bit of the truth. His favorite combination.

“Do you like your current employers?” Orion asked and Prowl started to narrow his optics.

“No…I don’t.” Jazz answered without enough dishonesty to feel comfortable.

Orion kneeled so he was on optic level with him. “Would you like to join my order?”

And when Jazz just stared at him he continued. “You’d be free to leave if you ever found it not to your liking. And your skills would be very useful in keeping people safe. And of course we’d ensure safe lodgings, fair pay and-.”

“Sir.” Prowl ground out with the most emotion Jazz had ever seen from the guy. “He tried. To assassinate you.”

“Well, he wasn’t very invested.” He shrugged.

Orion looked at Prowl. The twins looked at each other. Jazz looked at an opportunity.

“Deal.” Jazz took Orions hand, shaking it before his better thinking caught up to him.

Orion’s optics crinkled in delight. “Wonderful! Welcome to the Autobot Order!”

Prowls face betrayed nothing, but Jazz hadn’t spent his entire life studying people to miss the way something ever so subtly cracked under Prowls stoney facade.

Jazz didn’t need their Order to survive. But he had become desperately curious to know what in Pimus’ sweet name was going with those two. And more importantly, after outing him twice in a row, Jazz was going to BREAK Prowl.

“T̴͓̹̚h̸͖̘̀̈͠e̸̡̗̳͊̓͝ ̴͚̘͆n̶͉̰͐͜ą̸̦̉m̸̮͙͋é̴͉̫̥͘s̴̮̔͑̄ ̶̰̚J̷͎̀͝a̸̟͎̽̒̇z̷̰̆͑͜͝z̵̨͎̈́.̴͎́ ̷̡͉̱̒̾̕N̵̳͚̈͘i̴͙̓̎c̶̪̅̆ḛ̸̂͂ ̷̰̻̊͝ͅt̷͖̤̓͋o̴̗͇̭͑̿͛ ̴̮̹̉̃͜m̴̼͈̝̍ë̸̗̫̘́̊͌ē̸̘̹̅t̷̛̞̙̫ ̵͙̎̄y̵̩͂̓̚a̴͉̲̪͌̍.̶̖̻̒”

———————————————————————

The silent sentence was “Did you hear that horrib- Huh?! OH COME ON!”

I just really liked the idea that because Jazz talks in Shockwaves voice around Orion, the first time it happened everyone nearly shit themselves.

-SSTP

"Who apparently had thing for asthmatic dragons."

LMAO

"The twins searched their pockets for a magically appearing cough drop. Jazz searched for his sanity." AHAHAJCZTYLVXFUJKCDYKFSS HELP

Jazz, looking at OP: There is something really wrong with you. Five weirdness points out of five.

Jazz, looking at Prowl: ........I need a new scale

[dualityvn]

Keith would turn to hypnosis or brainwashing to make us love him if he’s fully snapped…?

Could I maybe please request a drabble about that por favor 🥹

Sweet Vacation

CW: kidnapping, brainwashing, fork harassment

Word count: 1345

You ignored the first signs that Keith wasn’t doing well mentally. When he’d turn his back to you at night and sob silently, you’d pretend not to hear it. When he’d spend his evenings staring out the window for hours on end, eyes glazed over, you’d find things to busy yourself with. 

It did annoy you when he put a tracker on you. The fight that followed only made things worse. He became constantly paranoid, asking to hear your voice every hour you weren’t home, having breakdowns when you so much as left the room he was in. 

There was no doubt that he wouldn’t accept it if you tried to break up with him. You never bothered to start the conversation. You simply packed your things one day, blocked his number and left. 

Unfortunately, he’d used more than one tracker. 

- - -

You awaken to an unfamiliar hardwood floor, head pounding and limbs stiff. So stiff, in fact, that you aren’t able to move them. Your eyes shoot open as you tug on the ropes tying your limbs to the chair you're sitting in. 

The room you’re in is unfamiliar, a lavish living room with wooden walls and a large fireplace. A sweet, mind-numbing fragrance catches your attention. Possibly, the herbs burning in a bowl on the coffee table before you. All the curtains are drawn, so you fail to see anything outside. You can’t remember how or when you got here. 

The sound of footsteps approaching brings your attention to the closed door. Keith appears from behind it, looking much more frazzled and unkept than usual. His hair is a bit messy, he’s not wearing the usual concealer under his eyes and his collar is askew. 

“My love! You're awake!” He rushes over to you. 

“Keith! What the hell did you do to me? Where am I?!” 

He shushes you as he caresses your cheek. You want to scream at him, fight against your restraints, yank yourself away from his touch. But for some reason, as soon as those thoughts enter your mind, they fade away. 

“Everything's alright, dear. You're safe now. I'm sorry about the ropes, but there was no other way. I'll take them off once they're not needed anymore.” 

There is nothing sane in his gaze. His eyes are big and alert and his smile is too wide for comfort. 

“Where are we?” you ask, much calmer than you'd like. 

“Somewhere where nobody will bother us! Don't worry, it's just the two of us.” 

You don't know what he's done to you, but your fear, anger and alarm are all much too mild. 

“Oh! I've made you lunch! Let me grab it for you before it gets cold.” 

He rushes off through the door, then returns with a plate of food and a fork. The sight and smell of it makes your stomach grumble. For how long were you out? 

“I hope you like it! Open wide!” Keith holds some of it out in front of you. 

Thoughts of turning away or refusing the food pass through your mind, then leave just as fast. You reluctantly open your mouth. 

Even when he's crazy, he manages to make infuriatingly good food. You do not complain about being fed the entire plate. If you want to try to get out of this situation, you'll need the energy anyway.

“You ate everything! Good job!” he praises you cheerfully. 

Then, he looks down at the fork in his hand. His eyes flicker between it and your mouth for a moment. Until they eventually settle on you as he brings the fork near his face and licks the part that's been in your mouth. Once his tongue reaches the tips of the tines, he sticks them entirely in his mouth. 

You stare at him, dumbfounded. Before you can say anything about it, he sets the fork back on the plate and turns to leave. 

“I'll bring you a glass of water! Can't let you get dehydrated!” 

What the hell was that? How far gone is he? 

You finally get your brain to cooperate and attempt to struggle against your bindings. Unfortunately, they're tight and secure. Looking around, you can't spot anything sharp enough to cut them. 

When Keith returns, he's brought back not only your glass of water but also a small satchel. You eye it curiously as he helps you drink. 

And once it's done, he sets down the glass and opens up the satchel. It's full of herbs, some of which he places in the bowl with the others. That mind number scent hits you again. Any thought you'd had of escaping is beginning to blur.

As if reading your thoughts, Keith answers. “Just a little something to help you relax! I know you're probably quite stressed.” 

He puts the satchel away and picks up a book instead. “How about I read you something? That way you won't be bored!” 

You want to say no, you want to reason with him, ask him to let you go, convince him none of this is necessary. But none of it leaves your lips. 

“Okay,” you say instead. 

- - -

It's been two days since Keith locked you up in this house. He's fed you and kept you hydrated. When he's not been taking care of you, he's been keeping you entertained or simply chatted with you. 

Perhaps it's your fault you've ended up this way. You ignored the signs that he wasn't doing well. You weren't a very good partner overall. 

This morning he made you heart shaped pancakes with strawberries. It was kind of cute. 

Perhaps you don't need to escape, perhaps he will snap back to reality and release you himself. The two of you aren't good for each other. 

- - -

Four days have passed since Keith brought you here. He untied you from the chair but kept your wrist handcuffed to his to make sure you don't run away. 

It's a pretty nice vacation home. Apparently you're in the mountains. The view from the balcony is stunning. Although it gave you a bit of a fright when you woke up here four days ago, it isn't so bad. 

Keith still insists that you let him prepare meals, despite you being able to help now. You can't believe you treated him so coldly before. When he discovered you had bruises on your wrists from the rope, he cried and kissed them better. 

At night, when you get ready for bed, he asks if he can cuddle you. If you say no, he keeps his distance. When you do give him permission, he holds you tight and whispers that he loves you. He smells sweet, a bit like burnt herbs. 

- - -

It's been a week since the start of your little vacation. You took a walk through the forest this morning, hand in hand with your beloved boyfriend. He told you about the plants that grow here and which ones are safe to eat. He's so smart! 

When you got back, you made lunch together. He’s been a bit down and anxious the past few days, but today he was in good spirits. Though he still won't tell you where he got the new perfume he's been wearing. It's so sweet, it makes you want to hold him close constantly. 

Now that it's evening, you're both sitting on the couch, cuddling as you watch TV. Keith holds you against his chest, his chin resting on the top of your head. You feel safe here. 

“I love you,” you murmur. 

He stiffens at once. Thinking there must be something wrong, you pull away to look at him. A mixture of shock and joy battles on his features. 

“I love you too!” Tears are spilling from his eyes. 

You laugh and cup his face, holding it still so you can kiss away his tears. Your boyfriend is so sentimental. His hand brushes over your chin, silently asking you to lean down. His lips quiver against yours, soft and uncertain. You press in lovingly. 

Even the taste of his lips is sweet.

[coryndoll]

in which you’re a rising music star who navigates playful tension with actor drew starkey, and your flirtation turns into something deeper amid a viral music video and your grammy win.

content: diff style writing, drew being cute n following readers lead for the mv

authors note: will lowkey write a part 2 and/or the music video version of this if requested but idk, hopefully it was kinda understandable!! i just wanted the pov as if u were watching the yt video for the behind the scenes footage omg

you’ve known of drew starkey—how could you not? he’s a rising star, a name that keeps getting bigger, a face that’s starting to dominate everyone’s celebrity crush list whenever you scroll through tiktok. the kind of guy that gets cast in fan-favorite shows, whose off-screen personality makes people love him even more. charming, funny, effortlessly likable. he’s everywhere.

but what you couldn’t have imagined is that he knew of you first.

it started small, almost too subtle to notice. a clip of him in an interview, sitting back in his chair, nodding as he listens to a question before casually mentioning that he had just discovered a new artist, you, and couldn’t stop listening. he called your music addictive, something about the way you write lyrics just clicked with him. maybe it would’ve gone unnoticed if he hadn’t mentioned it again.

a month later, another interview, another confession. a different setting, a different outfit, but the same topic. only this time, the interviewer caught onto it.

“seems like you’re a fan.”

drew, red in the face, grinning but flustered, just said, “yeah. yeah, i am.”

he didn’t say much else, but he didn’t have to. the internet picked up on the pattern. his name was suddenly linked to yours, your fans and his fans overlapping, people tweeting at you to collab when?, digging through every interview and live stream to see if he’d mention you again. edits of him set to your songs started appearing on every social media feed. some even made it look like you were the leads in some slow-burn romance movie, just from your music videos and his show clips.

and you? you didn’t think much of it. it was flattering, sure. entertaining, even. but you’d never spoken, never met, never had a reason to. it was just one of those internet things, something people liked to fantasize about but wasn’t real.

until about a year ago.

red carpet event, flashing cameras, voices shouting your name. you were mid-step, smiling for a picture when an interviewer stopped you, microphone extended.

“if you win tonight, who’s getting the first thank-you?”

you barely thought about it. “oh, obviously. my parents, my team, everyone who worked on the album . . .” a pause, a flicker of mischief as the words slipped out. “and drew starkey!”

then you scurried off, leaving the interviewer blinking after you. you didn’t look back, but you knew exactly what you’d just done. by the time you got home, twitter had already lost its mind.

so with all that history, all those years of almosts, how could you not end 2024 and start 2025 with a steamy, intimate music video starring your one and only secret admirer?

the behind-the-scenes video you upload to youtube starts with a simple title card—bts: filming my new music video with bae—before fading into a clip of you on set, bundled up in a puffer jacket, arms wide as you greet drew with an easy, “hi!”

it’s the first time meeting him in person. you’ve known of him, obviously, but standing here now, seeing the way his face lights up at the sight of you, it’s different. the camera catches his initial reaction. he smiles wide, like he’s trying to keep himself from grinning too hard, nodding like he’s trying to play it cool. you hug, brief but natural, before the video cuts to your interview.

you’re curled up in your seat, dressed down in sweats, looking entirely comfortable in front of the camera like you’ve done this a hundred times before. one leg is crossed over the other, your head rests against your palm, and the other hand is tucked between your thighs, playing absentmindedly with the fabric of your hoodie. you’re practically beaming as you talk.

“he’s cute. but no, getting drew to agree to the video was no problem,” you admit, a small laugh slipping through. “it just made sense. everybody on twitter and everybody on tiktok can calm down now.”

you grin at the camera before adding, “plus, my mom loved his last movie.”

your friend behind the camera immediately jumps in, amused. “did she?”

you snicker, nodding your head like the answer is obvious. you don’t even need to say anything. your smile says it all.

cut to: on set at night.

you stand close to drew, explaining your vision, the two of you tucked into a quiet corner of the closed-off street. it’s late. you’re talking, hands moving as you try to get the words out just right, and drew listens intently, nodding along, before huffing out a laugh at something you say.

the next shot is of you in position, standing just outside the entrance of a nightclub. the scene is meant to be electric, with the music pounding inside, the city buzzing around you. you refilm the shot a few times, stepping out of the alleyway and onto the sidewalk, pausing just as drew and ‘his group of friends’ step onto the curb from their car. the camera zooms in on your expression, catching the exact moment your character notices him.

you give him a look, one of intrigue, curiosity, a silent pull that makes drew’s character do a double take as he follows his friends inside. but as you turn and walk away, he hesitates. his friends don’t notice, but the audience is supposed to.

although the music is supposed to cut through, they’ll be able to see him say the words, “wait up for me, i’ll catch up.”

he stays behind. he follows you.

the cameras catch him walking past the frame, but in the behind-the-scenes footage, you’re already waiting for him off-camera. you’re standing just around the corner, out of sight, and the second he’s done with his take, he breaks into a grin, beaming as he jogs over to you.

“was that good?” he asks, a little breathless, still caught in the rush of the scene.

and off-camera, you laugh.

the next shot starts with a handheld camera capturing you inside a dimly lit bar, the neon glow from the signs reflecting off the polished counter. you’re perched on a stool, fingers curled around a glass, not drinking, just holding it for the scene, your expression unreadable as the camera focuses on you. the shot lasts for only a moment before it abruptly cuts away.

to: drew’s micro interview.

he’s leaned back in his chair, relaxed, but there’s a knowing glint in his eyes, something playful lurking beneath his words. “she made me flustered super easily, yeah,” he confesses, mouth curving into a smirk as he glances off-camera toward your friend conducting the interviews. “she just has that effect to her.”

to: the first night scene.

this time, the energy is entirely different. the camera moves with purpose, following drew as he catches up to you, his hand grasping your arm, tugging you into another alleyway. the moment is fast, urgent, his body pressing yours up against the cool brick wall, his lips finding yours without hesitation.

the camera doesn’t linger on the kiss itself. instead, it captures the details, like the way drew’s fingers tighten around the fabric of your clothes, the way your hand slips into the back of his hair, curling at the nape of his neck. the shot pans downward, exposing the closeness between your bodies, the breathlessness of it all, before the scene suddenly fades.

you’re sitting up straighter this time in your interview immediately after the clip, legs crossed, hands in your lap, but there’s a mischievous glint in your eyes. your tongue presses against your top teeth as you chuckle, fully aware of what you’ve just filmed. you don’t say much, but the knowing look on your face says enough.

the final shot of this segment shows you and drew after the director calls cut, the tension immediately breaking as laughter spills between you. you pull away first, eyes bright as you turn toward the monitors, eager to check the footage.

drew, still lingering in place, rubs his bottom lip with his thumb, watching you for a beat before finally trailing after you, taking his time.

the next shot follows your character, leading drew by the hand, weaving through the streetlights, your destination clear in your mind, and you toss him the car keys without hesitation. drew catches them, glancing between you and the keys in his hand, a flicker of disbelief crossing his face. the trust is unexpected, almost daring. but after a brief hesitation, he gives in, climbing into the driver’s seat while you swing into the passenger side, watching him with a smirk.

the screen quickly shifts to behind-the-scenes footage—handheld, slightly shaky, like a friend capturing the moment on their phone. you lean halfway out of the car window, hair tousled from the wind. your voice is light, playful, as you drag out the words dramatically, “we’ve been filming for the last six hours! i wanna go home.”

you make a face at the camera, and off-screen laughter follows. just as the camera pans back toward the car, drew reappears, slipping into the driver’s seat after what was clearly a break. he clocks the camera almost immediately, smiling as he watches you slide back inside, adjusting in your seat like you’re preparing for another take.

to: the car scene.

you're in the passenger seat, lip-syncing the lyrics, the camera catching you. your expression shifts between something teasing and something more heated, fingers toying with the hem of your dress as drew grips the wheel beside you.

then, another interview clip overlays the scene. you sit comfortably, your grin almost mischievous as you speak, “i wanted this music video to be very, very horny. like, so horny but also so fun, and freeing too.”

you pause, laughing as you push your hair back, “i really wanted to capture that feeling of instant attraction. like, that moment when you lock eyes with someone across the room and just know something’s about to happen. the whole video is about chasing that rush, that tension of being drawn to someone you shouldn’t want but not being able to stop yourself.”

“so, yeah. i wanted it to feel intense, a little dangerous, a little intoxicating . . . like a night you’ll never forget, even if it only lasts ‘til sunrise.”

it cuts to a different segment of the micro interview. you’re sitting casually, your thumb nail between your teeth as you listen to your friend. the vibe is lighthearted, almost too laid-back, until your friend says, “you should call him if you win that grammy.”

you freeze for a second, eyes widening slightly, then burst out laughing. sitting up straighter, you give her a look, almost like she’s lost their mind, “are you serious?”

the final shot in the behind-the-scenes video captures you dramatically collapsing onto the mock-bedroom set, letting out an exaggerated groan as you flop onto the bed, completely wiped from weeks of filming. you’re on your back, hair splayed out around you like a halo, eyes half-closed as the exhaustion hits you full force.

drew, on the other hand, leans back against the headboard, legs sprawled out casually as if he could take on another round of filming, but still, his hand reaches out, and you take it without hesitation. your hands clasp in a silent victory, both of you relishing in the fact that you’ve wrapped up the last take of the day.

“is that it?” you ask, glancing at the crew who are already packing up, and when they confirm it, a smile breaks across your face. you raise a fist in the air, a mock victory pose, causing a few of the crew members to chuckle behind the camera.

the camera cuts back to you, but just a few minutes later, still lounging on the bed with drew, who’s now looking at you with that signature grin of his. you sit up, stretching your arms over your head, and your voice is light as you ask, “was that fun?” you’re genuinely checking in, making sure drew’s feeling good after all the intense shots.

drew pauses for a beat, then lets out a little laugh, clearly still feeling the buzz from the shoot. “i had . . . a blast,” he says, but there’s something about the way he says it, maybe it’s the glint in his eyes or the slight inflection in his voice, that makes you burst out laughing.

you start to get up from the bed, your laugh still lingering in the air as you move out of the frame. the camera stays on drew as he watches you go, looking like he’s still processing the day. just as you move out of view, someone walks in from the side to start cleaning up the set, but drew doesn’t miss a beat.

“i’m being so honest right now, dude,” he says, his grin turning playful, and you hear the laughter behind the camera as they capture this moment.

after the music video shoot wraps, you and drew keep in touch. with the release of the video just around the corner, your team suggests posting a teaser to build hype on social media. it’s the perfect opportunity, so you agree.

another mini shoot is set up for the teaser. drew and his team arrive, and even though this shoot is way more relaxed than the last one, the excitement is still palpable. you’re going to film a short, tantalizing snippet.

the plan is for the camera to follow your feet clicking against the floor as you walk down a hallway, but your face won’t be seen. you stop in front of a door and knock before the cameras on you now.

the moment the door opens, your smile is real as you grab his hand. you pull him with you down the hall, and the camera focuses on the back of his head, leaving fans to wonder who he is. as you pass the wall, the words of the song title come to life to tease which song its for.

as soon as the video drops, the internet blows up. fans can’t stop guessing who your mystery man is.

‘ its drew isnt it ’

‘ PLEASE TELL ME THATS WHO I RHKNK IT IS ’

‘ y/n y/l/n u did NOT. ’

others speculate wildly, throwing out all kinds of guesses. you both meet up to hang out during the lead-up to your album release, laughing about the crazy theories online. some fans are dead sure it’s him, while others debate who it could be. the excitement only grows, and you secretly enjoy the fun of keeping them guessing.

but everything falls into place when you win that grammy. it’s the culmination of everything you’ve worked so hard for, and as the announcement echoes through the room, you’re overwhelmed with emotions. you honestly didn’t expect this, especially as a first-timer. they are hard to come by, and you’re honestly convinced this is going to be your one and only.

the wave of emotion hits you as you hug your loved ones, the tears welling up in your eyes. you quickly pat under your eyes with your fingers, trying to compose yourself as you walk toward the stage. all eyes are on you, and the spotlight is so bright you almost can’t bear to look directly at it.

you hold the grammy in your hands, trying to keep your composure as you deliver the half-planned speech you’d scribbled down earlier. it’s all so surreal.

“god, i actually thought i was about to pass out when they said my name,” you admit, and the audience of familiar faces laughs.

“i just can’t believe i’m standing here right now, receiving this. i have poured my heart into this album, into my music, and i never imagined it would lead me here. to my team and family, you’re the reason this dream is even possible. to my fans, thank you for making this journey so worth it. this award is for us. i love you all, and i’ll keep making music as long as you’ll keep listening. thank you all so much.”

eventually you’re off the stage and sitting at your table, still processing everything that's just happened. there are few who still congratulate you from their seats around you. your friend, sitting beside you, gives you a look, the kind that says it all. you know what to do.

you hesitate. was she serious about what she said before about if you won? you roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the pull of it. you grab your phone and turn it on briefly, waiting for an appropriate moment. your thumb hovers over the keyboard for a moment before you type out the message to drew:

hey. can i call u tonight?

a/n: such an abrupt ending LOL but i have to cut it off here bc i have my first day of my new class tmr n im supposed to get up in 2 hours 💔 ILL REWRITE THIS OR DO A PART 2 IF I REREAD THIS LATER N NOT LIKE IT

[claramelooo]

WOVEN FATES (1/???)

Here I aaam! Remembering that the posts will be every Saturday.

So, enjoy it!

*I'm a little drunk rigth now, so, I'm sorry if you find mistakes*

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Pairing: AgathaRio X Fem Reader

Summary: A serie of events makes you fall into the good graces of two older women.

Hey! I've a masterlist

Fascination

You wake up to the first rays of sunlight slipping through the gaps in the curtains. Your bedroom is small, just 23 square meters, but it’s the only space in the world you can truly call your own. A study desk pushed against the wall, shelves crammed with books and notebooks filled to the last page, and plants scattered in every corner—ferns, succulents, and a small cactus that stubbornly clings to life even when you forget to water it.

After stretching, you get up and head straight to the window, where your plants greet the day. You talk to them in a soft tone as you mist them, almost as if expecting a reply. “You look beautiful today. I promise I won’t forget you again.”

Lucky, your overly talkative black cat, meows at your feet. He wants nothing but your attention, and you oblige, stroking his head with a tired smile. “Good morning, Lucky. Seems like you’ve got a lot to say, huh?” He meows back, and you laugh.

In the comfortable silence of the morning, your mind drifts, as it often does, to the past. You grew up in the suburbs, in a small house that was always full. Your father did his best to raise you and your five older siblings, but there was a gap that was never filled: your mother. She left when you were just a child, and though no one in the family spoke openly about it, her absence was a constant shadow in your life.

You remember the nights when your older siblings would laugh and argue in the living room, while you, the youngest, hid in a corner with a book or a notebook. Writing was your escape, your way of creating a world where you had control, where mothers didn’t leave and bad things always had a solution.

She left when you were little, leaving behind you, your five older siblings, and a father who never knew how to handle her absence. You remember the nights when the silence of the house was broken by questions no one dared to ask. Why did she leave? Was it us? Was it me?

No matter how hard he tried, your father couldn’t fill the void she left behind. He worked all day, came home exhausted, and did his best to keep the house running, but affection and kind words were never his strong suit.

“You’re strong. You don’t need to cry over this,” he’d say every time tears threatened to spill. Gradually, you learned to swallow your tears and convince yourself that you needed to be strong, even when everything inside you wanted to collapse.

Her absence shaped much of who you are today, though not in a way you like to admit. It’s hard to look in the mirror and not feel... inadequate. You wonder if she left because you weren’t good enough, because you weren’t good enough.

These thoughts are like shadows that appear at the most unexpected times, especially when you try to open up to someone. Intimacy is terrifying. You fear that if people truly know you, they’ll abandon you, just like she did.

In school, this made you shy and reserved. You always felt like a puzzle with a missing piece, unable to fit in. Your siblings tried to shield you from the worst, but they had their own battles to fight.

You were the youngest, the “baby” of the house, and yet you never had the chance to be treated as such. While they laughed and argued, you hid in your room, writing stories that transported you to worlds where mothers didn’t abandon their daughters.

This absence also gave you a fierce determination. You promised yourself that if no one was there to take care of you, then you would take care of yourself. You studied late into the night, devouring books on screenwriting and filmmaking from the public library.

When the college acceptance letter arrived, it felt like the world had paused for a moment. You’d made it. The first in your family to set foot on a university campus. Despite the pride, the insecurity is always there, lurking. The fear of not being good enough, of failing, of being discarded. You work hard because you feel you have something to prove, even if no one asked you to.

The sound of the bell above the door announces another day of work at the small café. You walk in, adjusting your apron with a resigned sigh. The air smells comforting, like fresh coffee, but the weight of the shift ahead is always present. You do everything there: serve tables, clean counters, even organize the stock. Your boss is an unpleasant man, known for his sexist jokes and invasive behavior. But you need the money, so you swallow your anger and keep going.

América, your coworker, is the opposite of you. Rebellious and fearless, she confronts the boss without hesitation, even knowing it could cost her the job. You make an unlikely team, but somehow it works.

As you wipe down the counter, you hear the sharp click of heels echoing through the café. The sound has a weight to it, cutting through the usual hum of the room. A barely perceptible pause spreads through the space, as if the air itself had been suspended for a second. It’s not just curiosity—it’s reverence.

Your gaze lifts almost instinctively, and it’s impossible not to notice the woman who just walked in. Tall, with perfectly styled dark hair and a black blazer that looks tailor-made, she exudes power. But it’s more than that. There’s something in the way her eyes sweep the room—a sharp coldness, as if she could dissect everyone there with just a glance. And people notice her. Some whisper her name, others try not to stare too long.

You swallow hard, trying not to seem intimidated. But when her eyes finally land on you, it’s as if the world around you has disappeared. She doesn’t look away, and the intensity of that moment makes your stomach churn. For a split second, it feels like she knows exactly who you are—all your fears, insecurities, and dreams laid bare before her.

Summoning what little courage you have left, you adjust your apron and force a smile you’ve practiced hundreds of times. “Good morning, what can I get for you today?” Your voice sounds calm, but your heart is racing.

The woman continues to stare at you, silent. Her dark eyes analyze every detail: the slightly worn apron, your hands gripping the notepad too tightly, even the stray strand of hair that escaped your bun. It’s unsettling, as if she’s assessing every tiny aspect of your existence.

“A caramel latte... and a black coffee. No sugar. To go.” Her voice finally breaks the silence. It’s low, gravelly, like distant thunder, and carries a strange familiarity—as if she’s used to being obeyed without question.

You nod, trying to stay professional. But as you prepare the orders, you feel her eyes on you, watching every move. The weight of her gaze is almost unbearable, like a test you didn’t know you were being forced to take. Your hands start to tremble, and an anxious heat spreads through your body. The feeling of being judged grows.

When you turn to hand over the drinks, the tension in your muscles is so tight that your hands falter. Before you realize it, the hot coffee cup slips, spilling the brown liquid all over the woman’s immaculate white blouse. The sound of the cup hitting the counter is muffled by the low, controlled sound of frustration that escapes her lips—not a scream, but a deep, restrained noise.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!” you exclaim, your voice trembling. Grabbing napkins in a panic, you lean in to clean up the mess but freeze when you see the stain spreading across the expensive fabric.

The murmur in the café grows louder. Someone lets out an audible sigh, while another mutters something about “the mighty Rio” being treated so carelessly. The name hangs in the air, and only then does it fully hit you.

You knew she seemed powerful, but you hadn’t realized you were standing in front of Rio Vidal—one of the world’s most renowned visual artists. Like her wife, Agatha Harkness, she’s an icon. Together, they’re one of the few openly gay couples to dominate and be celebrated by the industry. Her fame precedes her, and now you’ve just spilled coffee on her.

The woman doesn’t say anything immediately, but her eyes—once analytical—now seem to pierce through you. There’s something terrifyingly calm about the way she looks at you, as if she’s deciding how much of a reaction you’re worth.

Before you can stammer out more apologies, your boss’s voice cuts through the air. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” he shouts, his anger exploding. “How can you be so clumsy? A client of this caliber, and you do this?! I should fire you right now!”

The embarrassment spreads through you like the coffee on her blouse. Your eyes well up as you try to explain, but the words won’t come. All you can do is look at the woman, hoping she’ll say something—anything.

She, however, doesn’t even glance at your boss. Her eyes remain fixed on you, as if he doesn’t exist. Finally, she breaks the silence with a low, sharp voice: “That really isn’t necessary.”

Your boss stammers, surprised. “But, ma’am, she—” He doesn’t finish the sentence. Her gaze silences him, and for the first time, you see a man who thrives on authority shrink back.

You try to catch your breath, your face burning with shame. With a thread of courage, you murmur, “Please, come with me. I—I can fix this.” Your voice falters, but there’s something in your insistence that makes her tilt her head slightly, as if weighing your determination before nodding.

In the restroom, the silence between you is heavy but not empty. You grab the spare blouse you always carry and try to gather your thoughts, but when you turn around, the air seems to leave your lungs.

The woman unbuttons her blazer with precise movements, and when she removes the stained shirt, she reveals a black silk blouse so delicate that the light highlights the curves of her collarbone and the edges of her lace bra.

Your gaze involuntarily drifts to her shoulder, where the skin reddened by the coffee looks almost fragile. The sight is intimate in a way you weren’t prepared for, and your face burns.

“I... I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have...” you begin, but your voice falters. Your mind is torn between the embarrassment of the accident and the hypnotic presence of her, which seems to fill the small space of the restroom.

“Do you always get this nervous?” Her question is unexpected, her voice low and laden with something you can’t decipher. It’s almost a challenge, a test, and her gaze remains fixed on you, as if expecting more than a simple answer.

“I... I don’t know. Maybe?” You look away, shrinking slightly as you hand her the clean blouse. It’s cheap fabric but carries the faint scent of your homemade perfume. When her fingers brush against yours as she takes it, a shiver runs down your skin, quick and unexpected.

She puts on the blouse slowly, unhurried, and her words follow like an echo: “You shouldn’t apologize so much. Especially when you don’t know what for.” The statement is intriguing, almost disconcerting. Your heart races, as if you’ve just stumbled upon something you don’t fully understand.

Before she leaves, you blurt out, the words tumbling out in one breath: “Please... let me wash your blouse. I want... I need to make it up to you.”

She pauses at the door and turns, her eyes locking onto yours once more. There’s something different now, a genuine interest, almost calculated.

Without a word, she pulls a black card from her pocket, elegant and scented with a faint woody aroma. “When it’s ready, come to this address.” Her voice is low but layered with meaning you can’t interpret.

She leaves before you can respond, her posture impeccable and her steps controlled, as if every movement were rehearsed. You’re left alone in the restroom, holding the card that feels heavier than it should.

Rio Vidal.

The name echoes in your mind. A short, strong name, as enigmatic as she is. And for some reason you can’t explain, you feel like you’ve just opened a door to something that will change your life in ways even the worst coffee spills couldn’t predict.

A few minutes later, you gather enough courage to leave the restroom. Your heart is still pounding in your chest, as if trying to remind you of the disaster that just happened.

You find your boss standing near the counter, wearing the same disdainful look that always makes your skin crawl. But something is different today. He doesn’t explode into shouts as you expected.

“Rio Vidal. The Rio Vidal—” He crosses his arms and sighs, as if he can’t believe what he’s about to say, “—said it was fine. And she was very clear that you shouldn’t be punished.”

You blink, confused. The black card in your hand feels heavier now. Why would she do that? Was it pity? Some kind of veiled charity because of your desperation? Or... something more?

The woody scent of the card wafts up to you, a tangible reminder of the woman who, even with coffee spilled on her expensive blouse, had remained impassive and enigmatic.

“Get back to work before I change my mind,” your boss grumbles, but his tone has lost its usual edge. You don’t argue, just tuck the card into your pocket, still feeling every embossed letter like a secret waiting to be unraveled.

[...]

You practically run to the university. Your legs ache, but it doesn’t matter because today is important. When you finally reach the worn-down building that houses the film department, you can barely catch your breath. The room is packed with anxious students, and excited whispers fill the air.

“You’re almost late!” Darcy whispers, pushing a notebook aside to make room for you. Her eyes are wide, nervous. “Agatha Harkness is already here.”

Her name makes your heart race, in a completely different way from the panic you felt before.

Agatha Harkness.

The legend. The queen. The woman who made actors cry on set and screenwriters question if they were good enough to write even a single line of dialogue. She was a monster… but undeniably a genius. Everything that came from her hands was masterful, and you secretly harbored an absurd admiration for her.

Peter, sitting in front of you, whispers to Darcy, “Do you think she’s going to rip someone’s heart out today? She did that the last time she visited a university…”

Darcy, next to him, makes a face. “On the first day?”

“Without a doubt,” Peter replies, shrugging.

Before you can respond, the door swings open. The sound of her heels is the first thing that fills the sudden silence. And then she enters.

Agatha is everything you imagined and more. Tall, dressed in an impeccable purple suit that seems to radiate authority, with a smile that borders on cruel and eyes that scan the room as if evaluating every soul present. Her presence is a punch to the stomach, yet at the same time, something in you feels magnetized by her. It’s impossible to look away.

She wastes no time with warm introductions. Instead, she tosses a stack of papers onto the desk and begins speaking. Her voice is deep, firm, and filled with an intensity that makes the air feel heavier.

“Writing is an act of courage. And from what I’ve heard, many of you have been content with mediocrity.”

The students exchange nervous glances. Darcy practically sinks into her chair beside you. You, on the other hand, feel your heart race even more. There’s something hypnotic about the way she speaks, as if every word is carefully sharpened to cut.

“Now, here’s what you’re going to do.” Agatha steps up to the blackboard and writes something with an elegant pen. “Write a scene. Any scene. But make it something worth reading. Because if I think you’re wasting my time…” She lifts her gaze, and the silence that follows is more threatening than any word. “—your nonexistent careers won’t even start.”

Agatha picks up the first stack of papers and starts reading in silence, her eyes moving rapidly from side to side. The room is absolutely silent, so quiet that the sound of students breathing feels deafening.

After a few seconds, she lets out an almost exasperated sigh and lifts a paper, holding it up as if it were evidence of a terrible crime.

“Who wrote this?”

A girl in the back of the room timidly raises her hand, almost regretting existing.

Agatha narrows her eyes at the paper, then at the girl. “Is this a love story?”

The girl shakes her head, mumbling something about the plot being deeper than it seemed.

“No. It’s not.” Agatha cuts in, her voice as cold as steel. “This is a cheap fanfic disguised as a script. Characters with no substance, dialogues recycled from a teen drama. Where is the humanity? Where is the real conflict? This isn’t writing. This is a murder of art.”

The girl seems to shrink into her seat.

Agatha tosses the paper onto the desk and picks up the next one. This time, she doesn’t read for long before looking up. “Who thinks it’s acceptable to start a scene with ‘Once upon a time’ in an academic assignment? Are you trying to sell an idea or put a child to sleep?”

A boy in the front row tries to justify his choice, but Agatha raises a hand, cutting him off.

“I’m not here to hear excuses. I’m here to see talent. And so far, I’ve seen nothing worth my time.”

The silence in the room is palpable. You see Darcy whisper something to Peter, probably something like “Yeah, definitely heartless,” but you can’t focus. Your own script is in your hands, and the weight of the paper feels like lead.

Finally, your turn comes. With trembling hands, you hand the sheet to Agatha Harkness, feeling as if you’re handing over a piece of yourself. She takes the paper with an almost deliberate calm, and for a moment, you’re sure she’s going to toss it onto the “failures” pile without even looking.

But then, something in the title seems to catch her attention. Her eyes, previously indifferent, narrow slightly, and she begins to read.

Seconds turn into eternities as you watch her. The room around you fades away; all you can hear is the sound of your own heart pounding against your ribs. Your mind drifts back, inevitably, to the moment you wrote those words—the weight of the story, the piece of your soul you decided to share.

Agatha turns the page. Once, then again. Her silence is like a knife. You don’t know if this is good or bad.

When she finally finishes, she places the paper on the desk. Unlike the others, she doesn’t discard it immediately, but she also doesn’t show approval. Her eyes lock onto you, assessing, and there’s something new in her expression: a trace of curiosity.

“Interesting.” Her tone is neutral, but there’s something hidden in it—a hint of intrigue, perhaps? She leans forward slightly, crossing her arms. “Are you trying to tell a personal story?”

Your face burns instantly, and you feel the weight of all the eyes around you. Still, you find the strength to nod in confirmation, even as shame nearly swallows you whole.

“Hmm.” Agatha raises an eyebrow, pressing her lips into a thoughtful line. “You have no technique. No structure. The writing is messy, almost amateurish.”

Her words cut deep, and you bite your lip hard to keep the bile from rising in your throat.

“But…” She pauses, looking at the paper with unsettling intensity. “You have—” then, she focuses on you, and seeing those ocean-blue eyes so close makes your body tremble. “—something.”

Her choice of words is as vague as it is provocative, and you feel the weight of that “something” hanging in the air between you. She narrows her eyes, as if trying to figure out exactly what it was in the text that caught her—or in you.

“Stay after the bell rings.”

Her voice is final, like a sentence, but there’s no hostility. She dismisses you with a slight wave of her hand, and you feel a mixture of relief and anxiety as you return to your seat.

While the others hand in their scripts, you remain restless, trying to decipher Agatha’s expression and the reason behind her words. What in your text could have caught her attention? The room around you is filled with muffled murmurs, but in your mind, it’s as if you’re trapped in a storm.

As soon as the bell rings, only three people remain in the room besides you. The silence is dense, heavy with expectation, as Agatha moves with the same deliberate calm as before.

Of course, she already knows exactly what she’s doing. This special, hand-picked mentorship was clearly a strategy to appear more "kind" to the public, even though, so far, there had been nothing friendly about her approach.

You watch as she begins the individual feedbacks, calling Darcy first. The girl in front of you seems to be caught between hope and terror but agrees to step forward. As Agatha starts speaking to her, you try to distract yourself, but you can’t stop your eyes from wandering back to the director.

She is... magnetic. Even as she crushes Darcy’s creative dreams with precise, cutting words, there’s something about her that simply demands attention. And then it happens.

For a moment—or perhaps for all eternity—her blue eyes meet yours.

Your throat goes dry instantly. It’s impossible to interpret what’s in that gaze, but it hits you hard. Curiosity? Judgment? Or something else? You try to look away, but it’s as if you’re trapped. She stares at you for only a few seconds before returning to her conversation with Darcy, as if nothing had happened. But you know it did.

Your heart pounds so loudly it feels like it echoes in the empty room. Nervousness is consuming you, but there’s something else, a sensation you weren’t expecting. A tightness in your stomach.

Desire? Nervousness? Anxiety?

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to take a deep breath and organize your thoughts, but it only makes things worse. It feels like she has pulled a piece of the air around you away with just that look.

Time moves slowly. Agatha finishes Darcy’s feedback, moving on to the next student. And then, when your turn finally comes, you don’t know if you’re ready—or if you ever would be.

She calls your name firmly, and you stand up. Your legs feel weak as you walk toward her, carrying the weight of her expectation and your own desire to impress her.

“So,” she begins, crossing her arms, her sharp gaze settling on you. “Let’s talk about what you wrote.”

As soon as you sit before her, Agatha picks up your sheet of paper, holding it carefully, as if she were carrying something precious—or something dangerous. She doesn’t say anything right away, just fixes her eyes on the text for a few seconds before beginning to read again, this time out loud:

"One day, I had a dream about my mother. She was married to the man she truly loved, and without children. There, I had never seen her so happy."

Her voice is deep, but it carries a softness you didn’t expect. It’s as if she’s savoring each word, analyzing every nuance.

When she finishes, Agatha places the paper on the table with a controlled gesture and looks directly at you. The silence that follows seems to last an eternity.

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of that gaze, as if she could see every secret you tried to hide.

“Is your mother the main character here?” The question is direct, blunt—like everything about her.

You feel your face heat up, looking away. “I... maybe?” you murmur, the words hesitant.

“No need to lie,” she interrupts, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. “The text screams it. Every line, every word choice… it’s as if you were exorcizing a ghost. Tell me, is that what you tried to do? Exorcize the guilt of loving and hating at the same time?”

The brutality of the question leaves you speechless. You shift in your chair, uncomfortable, but she doesn’t seem inclined to ease the tension.

“Did she leave you?” Agatha presses, her eyes locked onto yours, as if she could pull the truth out of you by force.

You hesitate but finally let out a shaky sigh. “Yes.”

For a moment, her face seems to change. Something in her gaze softens, but only for a fraction of a second before she composes herself again.

“And yet, you chose not to hate her.” She tilts her head, as if studying a particularly intriguing piece of art. “That is… rare.”

“I think that… she did what she thought was best for her,” you reply, your voice almost a whisper. “I don’t blame her for seeking happiness, even if it hurt me.”

Agatha remains silent for a few moments, as if processing something. There was something in the text—or maybe in the way you spoke—that seemed to touch an old wound in her. A shadow passes over her face, but she quickly pushes it away, replacing it with a neutral expression.

“You have talent,” she declares, breaking the silence. “Still raw, but it’s genuine. And, more importantly, you have courage. The kind of courage I’m looking for.”

You blink, confused. “Looking for?”

Agatha leans forward, her eyes gleaming with dangerous intensity. “I’m assembling a team for my next project. I need minds that think like yours—that see beyond the surface and aren’t afraid to explore the shadows. Would you be interested?”

Your heart races. Working with Agatha Harkness? The woman you admired, even feared? It was more than you could have imagined, but the answer was obvious.

“Yes,” you respond quickly, barely able to contain the excitement in your voice.

Agatha smiles, and the gesture is as enigmatic as the rest of her. “Good. Get ready, little gem. I’m going to shape you piece by piece," The way she spoke was hypnotic, pulling you in. “and it will be… painful.”

As soon as you answer affirmatively, Agatha pulls something from the pocket of her purple blazer: a business card. It’s blue, with purple lettering in an elegant cursive font. The floral scent of the paper fills the air as she slides the card across the table toward you.

“Come to this address tomorrow,” she says, her voice firm but low, as if each word were chosen with care. “Seven at night. And don’t be late.”

You take the card with trembling fingers, its weight feeling heavier than it should. The moment you touch it, a wave of déjà vu washes over you. The texture, the scent, even the sophistication of the design remind you of the card Rio gave you earlier.

Two women so different, and yet… so similar. Both had a presence that seemed to capture the room, leaving you breathless. Both seemed to see through you, as if they could decipher your deepest thoughts with a single look.

You feel your heart speed up, confusion mixing with excitement. Why had these women, so powerful and enigmatic, captivated you so much? Rio had left something in you—a sense of unresolved mystery. Now, Agatha was doing the same, but in an even more intense way.

“Something wrong?” Agatha’s voice cuts through your thoughts, bringing you back to the present.

“N-no,” you reply quickly, slipping the card into your backpack. “I’ll be there.”

She only tilts her head, her eyes lingering on you for a moment before turning and leaving the room. Her silhouette disappears through the door, but the weight of her presence still lingers—heavy, inescapable.

As you gather your things and prepare to leave, a single question echoes in your mind: What the hell were you getting yourself into?

And more importantly, why couldn’t you stop feeling excited about it?

~*~

Y/n... How lucky you are, huh?

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[jungwnies]

tamed - max verstappen (5/4 - epilogue)

୨ৎ : pairing : max verstappen x fem!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : as whispers in the paddock shift from max verstappen's on-track antics to his unexpected romance with you

୨ৎ : genre : romance, angst, humor ୨ৎ : tws : media scrutiny, public attention, workplace romance, mentions of temper, light teasing ୨ৎ : wc : 1382

part one | part two | part three | part four | epilogue

fast forward a few months, and the paddock buzzed with a very different kind of speculation. the whispers about max’s fiery temper and on-track spats had been replaced with hushed chatter about the two of you. the sharp-edged world of formula 1 had softened ever so slightly, now crackling with curiosity about the driver who seemed to be transforming right before everyone’s eyes.

you and max had settled into this new dynamic with a surprising, almost natural ease. while there were still plenty of playful digs and sarcastic retorts, they were now wrapped in an undeniable intimacy—a bond forged through both the chaos of the paddock and the quiet moments that only the two of you shared.

the other drivers had taken notice too. daniel ricciardo, as mischievous as ever, would throw you exaggerated winks and nudge max with an elbow whenever you passed by. charles leclerc, ever the gentleman, always made sure you had the best seat in the hospitality suite, even if max tried to grumble about it. and even lando norris, the king of cheek, had toned down his teasing just enough to drop the occasional sincere compliment—though, true to form, it was usually followed with a grin and a sly, “don’t tell max.”

later that evening, after the paddock chaos had dwindled, max invited you to join him for a walk along the marina. the sun was dipping low on the horizon, painting the water in shades of gold and orange, and a soft breeze carried the scent of the sea. you thought nothing of it at first—max often liked to escape the buzz of formula 1 when he could. but as the two of you wandered past the quiet rows of yachts, his usual confidence seemed… off.

he kept stealing glances at you, his hands buried deep in his pockets, and his usual sharp wit was replaced with uncharacteristic silence. finally, you decided to break it.

“alright, verstappen,” you teased, nudging him lightly. “you’re being weird. what’s going on?”

max froze mid-step, his face instantly flushing a soft pink. “weird? i’m not being weird,” he said quickly, his voice jumping an octave. “you’re weird.”

you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “really? that’s the best you’ve got?”

he groaned, muttering something in dutch under his breath before turning to you with a determined—albeit slightly panicked—look. “okay, fine. i… i need to say something.”

you tilted your head, fighting back a grin. “go on.”

max looked out at the water, as though hoping the answer to his internal struggle would magically appear in the waves. he then turned back to you, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “so, uh, you know how you… um… exist?”

you blinked, stifling a laugh. “how i exist?”

“yes! like, you’re here, and you’re… you, and i’m…” he gestured vaguely to himself, his face now beet red. “me. and, uh, that’s good. i mean, it’s great. you’re great.”

you bit your lip to stop yourself from laughing outright. “wow, max. that’s… really something. please, continue.”

he groaned again, raking a hand through his hair. “okay, look. what i’m trying to say is—ugh, why is this so hard?” he stopped walking and turned fully to face you, his hands now animated as he stumbled through his next words. “i like you, alright? not in a ‘you’re my pr manager and keep me from saying stupid stuff in interviews’ way. like, i actually like you. like, in a ‘let’s do non-work things together, and i’ll pay for dinner, and maybe we kiss at the end’ kind of way.”

you stared at him, your lips twitching as you tried not to burst into laughter. “non-work things, huh? very romantic.”

“i’m serious!” he blurted, his hands flying up. “i like you, and i want to take you out. on a date. like a real one. with food. and wine, if you’re into that. or beer. or water, whatever you want!”

by now, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. a laugh escaped you, and max’s face somehow turned even redder.

“stop laughing!” he said, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “i’m trying here!”

“i’m sorry,” you managed between giggles. “it’s just… max, that was the most chaotic confession i’ve ever heard.”

he sighed, shaking his head but laughing softly too. “yeah, well, you make me nervous, okay? are you happy now?”

your laughter faded, replaced by a warm, affectionate smile. “max, you don’t have to be nervous around me. and for the record…” you stepped closer, your voice softening. “i like you too.”

his eyes widened slightly, the nervous energy melting away as a slow, relieved smile spread across his face. “you do?”

you nodded, biting your lip to keep from grinning too wide. “i do. but i do have one condition.”

“name it,” he said immediately.

“you’re not allowed to say ‘non-work things’ on our date. ever again.”

max chuckled, finally relaxing as he reached out to take your hand. “deal. but for the record, you’re still weird.”

you rolled your eyes, squeezing his hand as the two of you began walking again. “yeah, yeah. says the guy who just admitted he’s terrified of asking someone out.”

“not terrified,” he corrected with a smirk. “just… bad at it.”

...

one afternoon in monaco, the two of you wandered through the paddock hand in hand, the sun warm on your skin. max glanced down at you, a rare softness in his eyes.

"you know," max said, squeezing your hand gently, "i never thought i'd enjoy having my personal life plastered all over the media."

you laughed, bumping his shoulder playfully. "well, you have me to thank for that. i'm a pr genius, after all."

he chuckled, pulling you closer. "that you are. but it's more than that, y/n. it's… easy with you. even with all the cameras and the gossip, it just feels… right."

you leaned into him, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the mediterranean sun. "it feels right with you too, max."

as you continued your stroll, you encountered a group of journalists, their cameras clicking and questions flying.

"max, y/n," one reporter called out, "how does it feel to be formula 1's newest power couple?"

max, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, pulled you closer and replied, "well, she hasn't crashed my car yet, so i'd say it's going pretty well."

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't help but laugh. "very funny, max."

another reporter asked, "y/n, how do you handle max's temper?"

you smiled, glancing up at him with a playful smirk. "let's just say i have my ways of keeping him in line."

max feigned a look of indignation. "hey, i resent that!"

the reporters laughed, scribbling down notes and snapping photos. you and max, comfortable in the spotlight, played along, your banter a mix of genuine affection and playful teasing.

later that evening, as you sat on the balcony of your hotel room, overlooking the sparkling harbor, max turned to you with a soft smile.

"you know," he said, his voice low and sincere, "i never thought i'd find someone who could handle me, who could challenge me, who could make me laugh… and who could tolerate my terrible jokes."

you laughed, leaning your head against his shoulder. "well, you're lucky i have a soft spot for grumpy drivers with questionable humor."

he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace. "i'm the lucky one, y/n. i never thought i'd find someone like you."

you looked up at him, your heart overflowing with love and happiness. "and i never thought i'd fall for someone like you, max verstappen."

he leaned down and kissed you, a soft, lingering kiss that spoke volumes.

as you stood there, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, you knew that this was more than just a fleeting romance. this was a love story built on mutual respect, playful banter, and a shared passion for life, both on and off the track. and as the formula 1 circus continued its whirlwind journey around the world, you and max would face it together, hand in hand, ready to take on whatever challenges came your way.

taglist: @residentdemonhunter , @nctislifue , @kqliie , @loveitwhenhelies , @edgyficuselastica , @chirasama , @widow-cevans , @comicalivy comment to be added

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[heartsforvin]

single dad!vinnie and readers first date !

after the coffee shop incident, vinnie found himself thinking about you a lot, more than he’d like to admit. the two of you ended up running into each other again a few days after that.

vinnie wasn’t one to think much about fate, he honestly never really believed in it. when he saw you again though, he knew it wasn’t just a coincidence.

the two of you talked for a bit before vinnie finally got the courage to ask for your number. once you gave it to him, he had mentioned something about a date.

you thought he was just joking around with you, you had gotten the idea he didn’t really want anything serious anyways.

once vinnie had put his son to bed, however, he was up until late hours of the night texting you. getting to know you, what hobbies you’re interested in, what you do for a living, any question he could ask.

he finally brought up the date again, asking if you were free on the upcoming friday night. you were, and even if you weren’t, you’d find a way to go out.

vinnie couldn’t help but smile ear to ear when you had said you were available. he was ecstatic, practically counting down the days until it was time for the date.

once saturday rolled around, he texted you right after he got jj ready for the day. he asked if you were still up for it, which of course you said yes.

he let you know he’d pick you up around seven, not wanting to be too early, but also not wanting to be too late either.

all throughout the day both of you could only think about the night ahead. never had you thought you’d agree to a date with some guy you just met at a coffee shop.

seven pm finally came and vinnie was right outside your house. he texted you saying he was there and you quickly made your way out to his car.

“hey.” you smile as you get in the car. buckling your seatbelt, you put your purse on the floor beside your feet.

vinnie glanced at you for a moment, taking in your appearance. you wore a long black dress that he thought looked absolutely beautiful on you.

“hey,” he says, giving you a smile in return. “you look beautiful.”

blushing, you reply, “thank you.” shyly. vinnie thought it was the cutest thing.

after making sure you were ready to go, vinnie put the car in drive and the two of you were off to the restaurant.

on the way, he made small conversation — or tried to. he couldn’t help the fact he was nervous. he hadn’t been on a date since before jj was even born, so it’s definitely been a minute.

once the two of you made it to the restaurant, vinnie put the car in park and got out. he rounded the car and opened your door for you, smiling as he held out his hand for you to take.

with a thank you, you took his hand and the two of you walked into the restaurant.

once seated, the two of you talked for a minute before ordering drinks and then food. you noticed vinnie eyeing you every time you’d look away. you almost caught him a couple times as he did.

“so,” you say after taking a sip of your drink. “how long have you lived in LA?” you ask.

vinnie finishes sipping his drink before he says, “since i was eighteen.”

you nod, vinnie can tell you were probably doing math in your head about how long he was in a new city before becoming a father.

but in reality, that wasn’t what you were thinking at all. you watch vinnie sigh, he opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

“i’m not thinking what you think i am,” you tell him. “stop judging yourself, vinnie.” your tone isn’t stern, he knows you’re not upset, just giving him the self esteem he needs.

he nods his head, sipping his drink. this date isn’t to talk about his son, it’s to get to you and for him to get to know you.

the night continues with smiles and laughs, getting to know each other more and more as the night goes on.

vinnie learned you were into drawing and dabbling in some creative writing. while as you learned that when vinnie has down time, he loves to play video games and practice guitar.

you watch him talk, watch how his hands move and mouth twitches up into a smile when he talks about interests he loves.

“you in college or anything?” vinnie then asks, making you smile and nod.

you put your drink down before answering. “UCLA, coincidentally for creative writing. but i got a few other electives and classes to branch out on.” you explain.

vinnie nods with a smile. “that’s cool, you like it?” he asks.

you hum. “love it,” you smile. “in my last year, just have to figure out a career now.”

vinnie chuckles softly. he takes a sip of his drink again. the two of you continue talking, learning more and more about each other and your lifestyles, along with interests and hobbies.

before the two of you know it, it’s nearing ten pm. vinnie checks his phone and sees a few missed texts from his mom and dad.

“it’s already ten?” you chuckle with a smile. “shit, time does fly when you’re having fun.”

vinnie smiles, feeling relieved at the fact you had fun with him tonight. the two of you pack up your things and he pays the bill before you heard back to his car.

he drives you back to your place, walking you up to your door to say goodnight. as he stands there, the urge to kiss you grows, but he doesn’t want to overstep not only your boundaries, but his own too.

so, he settles on kissing your cheek, caressing the spot he had planted his lips on for a moment. you lean into his touch and smile.

“thank you for tonight, vinnie,” you tell him. “i had a lot of fun, we should do this again.” you smile.

vinnie let’s go of your cheek, putting his arm to the side. “yeah, i had fun. definitely should do it again.” he tells you.

the two of you say goodnight and he gets back in his car and drives home. once he’s settled in bed, he tells you he got home safe and talks to you just a little bit longer before deciding to really call it a night.

as he closes his eyes and starts to drift off to sleep, that’s when he realizes that maybe dating isn’t all that bad.

[valentinebugzee]

Sonic Boom! Agent Stone AU (pt.1)

(This is kind of an outline thing for the fic I plan on writing in the future btw!!)

•On one random Tuesday, a coffee shop named "The Mean Bean" appeared in the middle of town, with no construction and no posters for the place, as if it fell from the sky.

•It probably did since it's sonic boom and all.

•Sonic and friends had different opinions on the place, but all of them went in anyway.

•Sonic thought he wasn't really a coffee guy but it wouldn't hurt to try something new.

•Amy admired how beautiful and modern the place looked, unlike the rest of the establishments in their formerly unnamed village.

•Tails questioned how they had managed to construct a cafe that quickly without anyone noticing.

•Knuckles wondered why this bean shop smelled like coffee.

•Sticks, however...had her theories.

•Upon laying her eyes on the establishment, she started coming up with 50 theories per second; her friends dismissed her to get the plot going.

•Sticks's suspicions didn't subside one bit once entered the shop and made eye contact with a grinning barista with the name tag "Stone"

•What really got Sticks paranoid is how nice and friendly the barista was, and how he was the only person working there.

•Stone served them and said their orders were "on the house"

•Sticks refused to order anything, claiming it was a trap and the food had microchips in it to read the villager's thoughts and know the village's most crucial secrets.

•Right in the middle of Stick's yap session, Eggman initiated a very well-timed attack.

•Cut to Shoujo vision-eyed Stone laying his eyes for the very first time on the village's one and only villain (or the only one that matters)

•He quickly snapped out of it, adjusted his clothes, and cleared his throat, then walked out of his coffee shop to greet the villain.

•He had politely asked Eggman to take the fight somewhere further away from his coffee shop and Eggman surprisingly obliged (not without blowing up in Stone's face ofc) (Stone didn't look like he minded) (He actually looked even more love-struck) (weirdo)

•The fight ended, and the gang went back to the coffee shop, where Stone inquired about the evil doctor who almost blew up his shop.

•That was Stick's last straw; she started screaming about how Stone was a government agent who would doom the entire village if they didn't stop him.

•She ran out screaming when her friends still didn't believe her.

•Girl, get better friends.

•She figured that if she was going to foil the evil government agent's plans she needed someone else helping her, another pair of eyes to look out for the village if the government agent decided that she was an obstacle in his way and kidnaps her to a work in a secret underground trees-that-are- actually-spy-cameras-factory.

•And that's when she found Shadow in a cave that he definitely doesn't live in.

•He reluctantly agreed to help her because he was also suspicious about that guy, not that he cared about the village but he didn't like being oblivious about evil happening on his turf.

•He didn't believe stick's microchipped food theory, but Stone being a government agent didn't seem too far off for him...

•They both had their separate attempts at getting answers out of Stone.

•First was Sticks, she set up a trap.

•ofc Stone fell for it because how else would the story progress.

•She interrogated him as he was upside down hanging from a tree outside her home.

•He denied all claims and feigned innocence, claiming he was just a barista that came from far far away to simply serve people happiness in the form of coffee.

•She opted for more efficient interrogation techniques, she turned around and entered her home to..grab a feather and tickle him idfk

•Once she returned outside she saw the net was burnt to crisp and the human was nowhere to be found.

•Now she's sure she's not paranoid.

•She reported her findings to Shadow.

•Now it was Shadow's turn, seeing how Stone definitely had some special equipment/weapons on him the idea of there being microchips in the food didn't seem too uncanny.

•Shadow showed up to The Mean Bean, Sticks intently staring at him from behind the glass doors (creeping everyone in the shop out)

•Shadow thought he shouldn't interrogate him as that would end up as fruitful as Stick's efforts.

•Instead he chose to just behave as a normal customer, he was the ultimate life form after all, if there was something odd about the food then he'd know (I'm pulling this shit outta my ass okay)

•Just like the badger had described him "Very sweet with an evil aura", and something about trees.

•Stone felt somewhat nervous/awkward towards the hedgehog, so far all his customers were either stupid or friendly excluding the badger that kidnapped him because she wasn't a customer at all)

•The Hedgehog chose a cat muffin, glaring at stone the entire time.

•That was the best goddamn muffin he has ever had in his life.

•He slammed the money on the counter and returned back to a very distraught badger.

•"ARE YOU OKAY?! ARE THE RADIATIONS GETTING TO YOUR BRAIN?! ARE YOU BRAINWASHED?! DO YOU REMEMBER YOUR TRAGIC BACKSTORY?! DID THE MUFFIN DO SOMETHING TO YOU?!"

"Raspberry jam..."

"huh?"

[blubunz]

JUST TONIGHT

— bodyguard! leon s. kennedy x f! model! reader

《MINORS DNI!》

Tags: porn with plot, maybe slowburn? slight slowburn, pet names, fingering, masturbation.

A/N: a real sucker for this AU i just want myself a man like this tbh. anyways I write this when I can't sleep even though I clearly have to wake up early tomorrow. (Okay it's afternoon now um WHY IS THIS SO LONG😭 I DID NOT EXPECT IT TO BE LONG)

Throughout your career, you weren't in need for a strong, brooding figure to protect yourself, you weren't fond of having anyone watching over you — it made you feel like you're just a weak girl, a damsel in distress who always needs a knight by her side.

And you are, you need someone to be by your side and protecting you from harm. Sometimes you do reckless things, and not to mention those times where you made stupid decisions that almost cost you your life if not for Lady Luck. But Lady Luck can't stay with you forever, and you don't want to be living on edge so constantly. It makes you look like a madman and, most of all, losing sleep, bad schedule and then it escalated to affecting your career and hard work.

And that's why he's here.

You've heard of him before, not on the news, but through whispers and rumors. Of all the things you've heard from them, you're surprised how Leon isn't on the news as much, maybe he's laying low, or maybe he's working for the government, all private and redacted matters.

So then, how exactly did you manage to hire him?

For one, you're curious enough to search him up. His name isn't hard to find, and you admit he looks good, perfect for modeling. The problem is that he hardly uses social media. If he does, then maybe he goes by some other names, or he doesn't post a lot. You found out about Claire Redfield though, at first, she doesn't leave much impression to you, but the pictures she posted have that same familiar face, albeit Leon is looking like a grumpy uncle who would give bad advice to his nieces in each photo.

Once you've decided that it was enough to go stalking people's profiles, you go and make a call using your fame and broad connections in and out of your industry. You got his number in your contact within two days, and your hands are shaking as you try to call him.

It's not that you're scared of socializing, it's just that you're hesitant of making this decision, of finally have someone to protect your life, of admitting that you seek help and reassurance.

But, the possibilities of death and dark thoughts fill your mind quickly enough, and you convince yourself you need this, for your own sake.

“Hello?”

“Is this... Leon Kennedy?”

It's been a month since Leon's been here. Truth be told, he doesn't care much about how people are falling in love with you, mainly just your looks and charisma. He's heard of you many times, so many times, you keep appearing on magazines, billboards, the news, advertisements and more. God, there was this one prime time of your life where your face was practically everywhere! Not that you're no longer famous, but that was the time where your life was endangered the most by how crazy your fans were — another reason why Leon is here.

Upon interacting with you during your own time, Leon found out you're not like how the media portrays you to be. He isn't a stranger to it, seeing famous people and important figures always having to smile and maintain a certain persona for the sake of the community. Sure, you have that bit of yourself in it, but when he escorts you hone, it's when he sees your fatigue.

Your shoulders slump as you sigh, putting your bag on the coffee table as the TV is playing some shows for white noise, you're scared of the quietness — having thoughts that might hurt yourself. Leon closes the door and locks it safely, carrying your bag up to your room.

He doesn't need to do that, Leon's aware his job is to protect your life, not servicing you like a maid ir servant, but he keeps doing so, helping you with the small things like carrying your belonging, to making meals for you.

“You can't sleep now.” Leon sighs, seeing you lying on the couch, eyes closing. He doesn't want to startle you, so he picks you up and carries you into your bedroom, seating you by the make up table.

This is a change of pace for Leon, everything he does has to be careful for you. No longer picking up guns to shoot bio organism weapons or anything of the sort, instead he's now attending to a young model. Two different lives, and Leon finds himself hard to adjust, remembering the times you joke about him acting awkward sometimes when you tried to talk to him normally.

Your name comes out of his lips, sounding sweet and calm. And your eyes open, lazily rubbing off your make up while Leon prepares the bath for you.

“You don't have to do that.” You say once he steps out again, smelling a bit of the bath bomb he put in.

“I know. But, protecting your life is my job, and caring for your bare minimum needs is included.” He explains, and you just nod, not quite sure if they're connected in your mind.

Still, you let him undress you. Your cheeks flush at the way his fingers hook under your top to remove it, oh the slight contact when his hand brushes over your tits or ass. And sometimes you find it crazy how it's you that's the one being attracted to someone, and not Leon, who never advances himself on you, he doesn't even react when seeing your body, you find it weird, but intriguing too when your looks being the most important aspect of your industry, you've gotten used to the attention and the reactions.

In reality, Leon is still human, he admits your body is attractive, he wishes to lay his hands on your body with a more intimate intent, with more sensuality rather than just helping you with undressing or carrying you, his eyes linger on your skin, seeing that your body isn't that perfect as they claim to be, and he imagines himself kissing your flaws, to be the only one seeing your most intimate areas. But he's worked long enough not to let his feelings get involved, he can't bare it not after—

“You can... let me go.” Your voice cut through his thoughts, and Leon lets you go, he didn't even notice he was holding you still, zoning out and staring at the back of your neck.

“Right, sorry.” He clears his voice a little, sitting by your bed to wait for you to finish shower. He brushes a hand through his hair, finding himself longing for some alcohol to drown out this feeling. And that's also a problem. You've said you don't like the smell that lingers when he drinks, making excuses on how it affects your own scent, and people won't find you as attractive. He just stops drinking when he knows he'd have to see you later, not quitting for good, just pausing to prioritize his job — and in within case, his job means you.

Stepping in the shower, you can't help but fantasize about Leon, you can't believe that you fell for him first, and now you're imagining his hand cupping your mound, squeezing you and rubbing your clit. You gasp, eyebrows furrowed with clear displeasure on your face — your fingers aren't enough, you need a hand big like Leon's, to feel those rough pads of skin trailing down your body.

Grumbling in frustration, you go ahead and finish showering.

Leon finishes checking over the securities and ensuring that no one was lurking near your home, he get back to the living room only to see you in your robe, making some tea for yourself.

“Tea?” You ask, passing him the cup before he could say anything.

“Thanks.” He swallows, eyes flickering to your form hidden under the thin silk robe painted by your favorite color, somehow seeing your body like this is much more arousing than when you strip down naked, it teases his desire, and it leaves him chasing that tantalizing image. You catch his lingering gaze, and your eyes twinkle with a hopeful glea. Maybe he likes you too? Even if he's attracted to your looks, you can work your way with making him love you fully. After all, he's the only one who sees you in your most vulnerable moments. He's special, and you let him know of that privilege.

You head off to your room, with him following behind. Leon helps you with closing the curtains and removing your robe, palms firmly rubbing your shoulders. You shiver, letting the garment pool at your feet before seating on your bed in just your lingerie.

Leon tucks you in, and every time he does things like this, he gives you that flutter in your stomach, god, it's always the little things that get to you.

“Goodnight—”

“Leon, wait.” You reach up, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt, and he looks at you with an unchanged expression.

“Yes?”

“Um...” You hesitate, will Leon find this weird? No, no, maybe you can make an excuse, saying that you're too paranoid. “Can you... stay in my room? Just tonight?”

Leon nods without hesitation or any questions. He sits by the chair near your makeup table and plans to just read something to pass the time.

“No, not there.” You say, your voice sounding abrupt as you try your best not to appear so needy. But you can't. You're just naturally so. “In my bed, please?”

Leon bites the inside of his cheeks to hold back his smile, you sound so cute with the little "please" as a cherry on top. He complies, sitting at the edge of your bed, a hand on your ankle.

“Is this good enough for you, princess?” He smirks, and you feel your cheeks flush. “Or do you want me to hold you close, hm? Protect you from the monsters, yeah?”

“That... That wouldn't be a bother.” You murmur, and Leon takes it to heart, taking off his jacket and crawling up to your side. Leon gets you on his lap, pushing your head against his shoulder.

“Better?” He asks, voice muffled from his lips pressed against your hair, smelling your shampoo.

You nod, hiding your flustered face in Leon's shoulder, that elicits a laugh from him and he brushes your hair. He rubs your back soothingly, feeling your body relaxes under his grip.

Leon traces his hand down to your lower back, kneeding your soft buttocks. You take a sharp inhale, subtly pushing up against his palm.

His eyebrow raises, smirking against your hair before rubbing your thighs, and you spread your legs open for him. Leon doesn't say anything and just watches your reaction. He can feel you breathing down his neck. Your heart picks up its pace in excitement.

“Do you like this?” He keeps the pace slow, rubbing up to the waistband of your panties.

“Mhm...” You nod.

“Want more?”

“Mhm.” You nod again.

He hooks his finger under the band, and pulls the garment down, enough to let his hand slide in, brushing just over the top near your aching clit.

The moment his middle finger presses against your bud, you moan, hips twitching against his palm.

“Have you been dreaming about this?” Leon asks, and you only whimper in response. His finger moves down, collecting your juices and pulling out, tasting your essence on his finger.

“Me too.” Leon admits, and he shoves his hand back to your cunt, pushing a finger through your entrance.

“I've been wanting this too. Even more, wanna feel this tight cunt around my dick instead.” He groans, the way your walls tighten around his finger is enough to make his cock leaking pre-cum. “Fuck— you're so tight already, hm? I bet you cum with just my fingers.”

You mewl, hips rutting against his palm, and Leon pushes another finger in, spreading your pussy open so that you can fit his cock.

“Oh, god, Leonnnnn!” Your eyes roll up as he pumps his fingers in and out of your cunt, juices drooling down his hand. “Mngh, f-fuck—”

“Good girl.” Leon whispers, kissing down your neck whilst your body trembles, shaking high in pleasure. “That's it.”

His thumb rubbing harshly against your clit, making your whines higher and higher, you sound so needy and desperate, an side of you that you don't want anyone to see — anyone but Leon.

Leon grunts, feeling your juices dampening his pants, right against his bulge. His cock throbbing in his pants, just aching to pound that tight pussy of yours. But he puts you first, making you cum and high in ecstasy.

“Mm, gonna cum, baby?” He coos, feeling your cunt clamping down his fingers. “Cum, baby, be a good girl and cum f' me.” He increases the pace and intensity of his thrusts, dreaming of them being his cock instead.

You moan loudly as you squirt against his palm, and your knees buckle, legs shaking and body trembling as you collapse on his body.

“Gooood girl.” Leon kisses your forehead, rubbing your back with a free hand while he sucks off your juices from his fingers. “Now, ready for the main event?”

You feel his cock twitches under you, and you can feel yourself heating up again. You gulp, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinding against his bulge.

“Yeah.”

[the-reader-insert-gazette]

A Lifelong Contract - F!Reader x Zhongli

Featured Column - Genshin Impact (Geo Archon Quest)

Zhongli has spent lifetimes watching the world change, bound by duty and the weight of eternity. But when Reader speaks of growing old together, he realizes—for the first time in thousands of years—that he wants to walk the same path. To be bound, not by time, but by choice.

Editor's Note: This was made as a request from a peer who wished to remain anonymous. Thank you for this lovely prompt and giving me creative freedom with it, sorry it took me so long! I hope you enjoy!

Liyue Harbor was a city of rhythm. It moved with the tide, with the clatter of ships unloading at the docks, with the rise and fall of market voices offering their wares. It was a city that hummed with life, never truly stopping, only changing pace with the time of day. But in the quieter hours, when the crowds thinned and the lanterns cast long reflections on the water, it was also a city of patience. It was a city that waited.

[Name] had learned to keep pace with it, though not in the way most people did. She didn’t rush through the streets like merchants anxious to make their coin before nightfall, nor did she wander aimlessly like a traveler marveling at the sights. She found her own rhythm—steady, deliberate. She worked, she bartered, she built.

And somehow, Zhongli had become part of that rhythm.

It had started as most things did, small and insignificant. The kind of moments that go unnoticed if one isn't paying attention. He had been a customer in her shop, another face among the many who admired the delicate craftsmanship of her glasswork. Unlike the others, though, he had not simply glanced at her wares and made a purchase. He had lingered, tracing the smooth curve of a finished piece with careful fingers, his golden eyes studying the details as though committing them to memory.

“These are well-made,” he had said, turning a small glass dragon ornament in his hand. “Your work captures the element of Geo quite well—solid, enduring, yet not without elegance.”

She had tilted her head at him then, amused. “You always talk like that?”

His gaze had lifted to meet hers, and for the briefest moment, she thought she saw a flicker of surprise—like he hadn’t expected the question. Then, he smiled.

“I suppose I do.”

From that day on, he had returned.

At first, it had seemed purely out of interest in her craft. He would stop by, ask thoughtful questions about her techniques, listen attentively as she explained the process. He had an appreciation for craftsmanship, that much was clear—an understanding that went beyond polite admiration. He noticed details that others overlooked, traced patterns in the glass with a reverence that felt almost personal.

Then, somewhere along the way, the visits became less about her work and more about… her.

She had noticed it in the way he would linger even after their conversations about glassmaking had ended. In the way he always seemed to find her when she was taking a break outside, leaning against the wooden beams of her shop with a cup of tea in hand. In the way he would appear in the market when she was there, always at ease, always ready with some quiet, insightful comment about the world around them.

It was never grand. Never obvious.

It was simply him, existing along with her.

She had once told him that she never stayed in one place for too long, that she wasn’t the kind of person who set down roots. Liyue, though, had a way of making people stay.

It had started with the city itself, with its warmth, its beauty, the way it seemed to hold its history in every stone and street. Then it had become about the people—about the familiarity of the shopkeepers she bartered with, the regulars who stopped by her workshop, the feeling of belonging that had crept up on her when she wasn’t looking.

And then, at some point, it had become about him.

She wasn’t sure when, exactly.

Maybe it was one of those quiet afternoons when they had found themselves sitting at a tea house, the world slowing around them. Or maybe it was the way he always seemed to know what to say, his words careful, deliberate, never rushed. Maybe it was the way he listened—not just to the things she said, but to the things she didn’t.

Maybe it was the way he had laughed that one time—really laughed, not just the polite chuckle she had heard before. It had been after she told him about a particularly disastrous attempt to negotiate with a merchant in Fontaine, one that had ended with her leaving empty-handed but with an entire street’s worth of people cheering her on for standing her ground.

“You are… quite remarkable,” he had said, still smiling, and something about the way he had looked at her then had made her stomach flip in a way she hadn’t been prepared for.

She hadn’t known what to do with that feeling, so she had shoved it aside, pushed forward as she always did.

But it hadn’t gone away.

It had settled there, in the spaces between them, waiting.

And slowly, steadily, it had begun to grow.

She didn’t think much about the future. She never had. It had always seemed like something distant, something that would happen when it happened. But then the thought came to her one evening during a small festival, as they walked along the harbor, watching the lanterns flicker against the darkening sky.

She thought about what it would be like to still be here, years from now. To walk these same streets, to keep working, to keep building. To have him beside her, just as he was now.

And that thought didn’t unsettle her the way it once might have.

She glanced at him, watching the way the light caught in his golden eyes, the way he seemed at peace in the stillness of the evening.

“You know,” she mused, nudging him lightly, “for someone who always talks about the past, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about the future.”

He turned his gaze toward her, thoughtful. “No, I suppose you haven’t.”

She tilted her head. “Do you ever think about it?”

A long pause. Then, finally—

“…I do.”

Something about the way he said it made her heartbeat quicken.

She opened her mouth to say something more, but before she could, the first firework of the evening went off in the distance, its golden light bursting above the harbor. She turned her head to watch it, but not before catching a glimpse of him, watching her instead of the sky.

She didn’t ask why.

And he didn’t offer.

The firework faded, its golden light swallowed by the vast stretch of the evening sky, but the hush it left behind seemed to linger between them. [Name] didn’t break it, content to let the warmth of the festival surround them as they stood by the harbor, the voices of the city carrying on without them. For a while, neither of them spoke, and yet, nothing about the silence felt uneasy.

Zhongli’s gaze remained on her a moment longer before he, too, turned toward the horizon. His hands were still folded neatly behind his back, his expression as unreadable as ever, but something about his posture felt different—thoughtful in a way that went beyond his usual musings.

She had seen that look before.

It was the same one he wore when he traced his fingers over old inscriptions on stone tablets or when he spoke of Liyue’s past with the kind of familiarity that only came from lived experience. She had always chalked it up to the way his mind worked, how he seemed to carry an endless well of knowledge that even he couldn’t quite put into words sometimes.

But now, with the golden glow of lanterns flickering in his eyes, she wondered if it was something more.

She let the thought drift away.

Instead, she nudged him lightly with her shoulder. “Come on, let’s get something to drink. All this standing around is making me feel like I should be making a toast or something.”

He blinked, as if pulled from some distant thought, before letting out a quiet chuckle. “A toast, you say?”

“Well, yeah,” she said, already starting toward the tea house at the edge of the harbor. “It’s a festival, isn’t it? If you’re not eating or drinking, you’re doing it wrong.”

He followed, and though his smile was small, it lingered.

It became a habit, after that.

She wasn’t sure when exactly it started—maybe it had been that night, or maybe it had been happening all along without her noticing—but Zhongli became an unspoken fixture in her life. Their walks through the harbor grew longer, their conversations stretching into the night until the streets grew quiet. When she worked late into the evening, she’d sometimes find him waiting outside her shop, two cups of tea in hand, as though he had known without asking that she would need a break.

He never lingered past his welcome, never overstepped, and yet he was always there, as steady as the tides.

And she… she found herself gravitating toward him in turn.

It was never something they talked about, never something they put a name to, but it was there, woven into the spaces between their words, into the brush of hands reaching for the same teacup, into the way he always seemed to instinctively fall into step beside her, no matter where they were.

And yet, despite all of it, Zhongli remained careful.

[Name] noticed it in the way he would hesitate just a fraction of a second before touching her, the way he would sometimes look at her as though he were about to say something but would instead let the words settle unsaid. He was never cold—far from it—but there was a certain deliberateness to his every action, as though he was holding himself at the edge of something neither of them had spoken aloud.

She didn’t press.

Whatever this was—whatever it had become—she was content to let it be.

But Zhongli… Zhongli was thinking.

It was not something he could ignore, not when it sat at the forefront of his mind with each passing day.

He had lived for thousands of years, watched the world shift and change in ways mortals could never comprehend. He had stood where mountains had yet to rise, had spoken with those whose names had long since been swallowed by time. Mortality was something he understood, something he had always respected, but never something he had felt bound by.

But now, it was different.

Now, it was standing beside him, laughing at his old stories, pulling him through crowded streets with an easy familiarity, tucking her feet beneath her on the tea house bench and humming absentmindedly as he spoke.

Now, it had a name.

[Name] did not know the weight of the years that stretched behind him, did not know the things he had seen, the battles he had fought, the gods he had called his peers. To her, he was simply Zhongli, a man with an old soul and a tendency to over-explain things.

And for the first time in a long, long while, he found himself reluctant to correct that assumption.

But that did not change the truth.

She would live, and she would age.

And he would remain.

There would come a day—sooner than he wished, far sooner than he was prepared for—when time would begin to take its toll. He would watch as the years softened her movements, as the lines on her face grew deeper, as the vibrance of youth gave way to something slower, something more fragile.

And when that day came, when she looked at him with eyes that had grown old while his remained unchanged, what would he say?

Would he tell her then? Would he wait until she had begun to notice the difference, until she began to wonder why he never changed, why he never spoke of his past beyond vague recollections? Would he let her live her life never knowing?

Would it be a kindness? Or a cruelty?

He did not know.

All he knew was that for the first time, the passing of time felt like something looming, rather than something distant.

And for the first time, he was afraid of what it might take from him.

The tea house was quiet, tucked away from the bustling streets of Liyue Harbor, its warm lantern light flickering against dark wood. The scent of osmanthus lingered in the air, curling in delicate wisps from the cups between them.

[Name] swirled the tea in her cup absentmindedly, watching as Zhongli poured himself another, his movements practiced, careful. It had been a year since they met—since he first stepped into her workshop and admired her glasswork. She hadn’t thought much of it then, just another customer, another passerby, but now, sitting across from him in their quiet corner of the world, she knew better.

He had remembered today. She hadn’t. Not at first. It had only dawned on her when he had arrived at her shop earlier that evening, a bouquet of Glaze Lilies in hand. He hadn’t said anything about them outright—just placed them on her workbench with a soft, “I thought you might like these,” before suggesting tea.

She had smiled, taken them without questioning, but now, watching him across the table, she found herself turning the thought over.

"You really remembered the day we met?" she asked, breaking the comfortable quiet between them.

Zhongli glanced up from his tea. "Of course."

"Not exactly a holiday," she teased, smirking. "You keep track of the first time you meet everyone?"

His lips curved slightly. "Mostly, yes, but especially of those who leave a lasting impression."

Her teasing smile softened as she rested her chin on her palm, tilting her head as she studied him. "What else do you remember?"

Zhongli set his teacup down, fingers curling lightly around the rim. "You were skeptical of me," he said, voice tinged with amusement.

[Name] laughed. "Yeah, you acted like you’d never seen glass before. You held onto that dragon sculpture for so long I thought you were about to recite poetry to it."

He exhaled a quiet chuckle. "It was… an impressive piece of craftsmanship. It still is."

She smirked, but her voice was softer when she spoke again. "That was a good day."

Zhongli nodded. "Yes, it was."

The quiet settled between them again, but this time, it carried something heavier. [Name] let the weight of it sit for a moment before finally exhaling, setting her cup down and leaning forward.

"Alright, I think that's enough reminiscing," she said, her tone light but her gaze steady. "There's been something on my mind that I want to talk about."

Zhongli tilted his head slightly, waiting.

"You," she started, fingers tapping against the table, "are a hard man to read."

His lips twitched, almost amused. "Am I?"

"Don’t act so surprised." She narrowed her eyes playfully. "We’ve been—" she gestured vaguely between them, "—this for a while now, and yet, I still feel like you’re always holding something back."

His fingers stilled against his cup.

She wasn’t angry, nor was she demanding answers from him. Her voice was steady, as was her gaze. But there was a quiet honesty to her words, the kind that left no room for him to dance around the subject.

"[Name]," he started, his tone careful.

But she cut him off with a shake of her head. "Look, I’m not asking for some grand declaration, alright? I just—I think about the future. A lot more than I used to."

His brows furrowed slightly, but he said nothing.

She exhaled slowly. "I think about growing old. About the things I’ll do, the places I’ll see. And when I picture it, you’re always there." She let out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head. "You, sitting across from me at some teahouse just like this, telling me stories I’ve already heard a hundred times but still pretending they’re new just to humor you."

Zhongli’s chest tightened.

She continued, her voice growing softer. "I think about you being the last person I see when my time’s up. About hearing your voice at the end of it all and thinking, yeah, I did alright." She huffed a laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. "That’s a bit much, isn’t it?"

He should have expected this from her. She had always been forward, never one to leave things unsaid. But still, the weight of her words pressed into him, settling into the deepest parts of his thoughts, into the place where he had been avoiding this very conversation.

She spoke of years. Decades. A life measured in time she would experience fully, while he—

He swallowed, his fingers tightening around his cup.

[Name] studied him, waiting, watching, and when he still didn’t speak, she sighed, leaning back. "I guess what I’m saying is, I want you there," she admitted. "For all of it. If I’m being honest, I just assumed you did too."

Zhongli exhaled quietly, setting his cup down with deliberate care.

Her words—simple, spoken without hesitation—settled in his mind like stone against earth. It was not just a passing thought for her, not just something she wished for in the abstract. She had already placed him in her future, had already imagined a life where he was beside her, watching time unfold together.

She had spoken of it so naturally, without fear, without hesitation.

And in that moment, he realized he wanted that future too.

For the first time, he allowed himself to truly picture it. A life measured not by eternity, but by the years they would share. Mornings spent with quiet conversation, the scent of tea in the air. Evenings filled with laughter, with arguments over things that did not matter, with the warmth of knowing someone was waiting for him at the end of the day.

It was something he had never let himself consider before.

Now, he did.

He wanted to grow old with her.

He wanted to be there.

And for the first time in thousands of years, he understood what had to be done to make that a reality.

Their walk home was quiet. The city had settled into its nighttime hush, the streets dappled in the glow of lanterns overhead. [Name] walked with her hands tucked behind her head, casting glances his way now and then, as if waiting for him to say something.

But he did not, not yet.

When they reached the edge of her street, she stopped, turning toward him with an easy smile. “See you tomorrow?”

Zhongli met her gaze, something deep and steady settling within him. “Yes,” he said, “tomorrow.”

She lingered a moment longer before nodding, stepping back toward her home. He watched until she was gone, until the door closed behind her, before finally allowing himself to exhale.

Standing beneath the lantern light, he let the weight of the evening settle fully upon him.

There was no uncertainty now. No hesitation.

For the first time in his long existence, he knew what he wanted.

He would not simply watch time pass this time. He would choose.

But to do that…

To truly be with her, to share her years, to grow old as she would—he had to let go.

He had to step away from the life he had always known.

Morax had ruled Liyue for thousands of years.

Zhongli, however, was ready to live.

The city of Liyue was alive with celebration, its streets overflowing with eager voices, the scent of incense thick in the air. Lanterns swayed gently overhead, their warm glow illuminating the vast crowds gathered before the Jade Chamber. The people waited with bated breath, eyes fixed skyward, anticipation woven into every hushed whisper.

The Rite of Descension was a ceremony of great reverence. It was tradition, the foundation upon which Liyue had been built—an affirmation that their god, their protector, still watched over them. And for the last time, Rex Lapis would appear before his people.

Zhongli, taking the form of a dragon, stood at the highest point of the chamber, gazing down at the city that had flourished under his hand. For thousands of years, he had guided them, shaped their fate with careful precision, carved their future from the stone of the land itself. But now, it was time to step away.

He had prepared for this.

He had spent centuries watching over them, ensuring they could stand on their own. He had forged contracts not just between rulers, but between the land and the people, so that even in his absence, Liyue would remain strong. They no longer needed a god to oversee every transaction, to pass judgment over every decision.

And yet, even as he told himself this, there was an ache deep within him, a weight that pressed against his very being.

To let go of divinity was one thing. To let go of the people he had watched over for millennia, the land he had shaped with his own hands—that was another entirely.

Still, the decision had been made.

There could be no hesitation.

The moment arrived. A final breath. A final glance at the world he had built.

And then, he fell.

The sensation was strange—weightless and yet crushing, as though time itself stretched between moments. He felt the air rush past him, the stunned cries of the people below, the way the city seemed to recoil in horror as their god—their unshakable, eternal protector—crashed into the earth, lifeless and unmoving.

The murmurs turned to cries. Chaos rippled outward like cracks in stone.

"The Geo Archon is dead!"

From the depths of his consciousness, from the fading remnants of the form he had left behind, Zhongli listened.

He listened as the voices of the people he had watched over for so long trembled with uncertainty.

He listened as fear gripped them, as leaders stepped forward to bring order to the moment, as merchants and elders alike whispered prayers for guidance.

He had known they would react this way. He had prepared them for it. And yet, for all the logic in his decision, something in him wavered.

He had always been an observer, but this was the first time he had truly felt what it meant to be left behind.

He had prepared Liyue for this. But had he prepared himself?

Days passed.

The city did not sleep in the wake of the Archon’s passing. Vigil after vigil was held, offerings stacked high at the shrines, speculation spreading like wildfire. The harbor was thick with rumor—who had done it, why, what this meant for the future. But no one truly knew what had happened.

And somewhere, beyond the reach of the mourning city, Zhongli sat alone.

He had wandered the outskirts of Liyue, away from the lanterns and the sorrow, away from the weight of the decision he had made. Once he found the opportunity, had left the city as a mortal, leaving his vessel behind, and yet the weight of divinity still clung to him on any thread it could.

For the first time in thousands of years, he had no direction. No contract to uphold. No war to wage.

Only silence.

And he did not know what to do with it.

It was [Name] who found him.

She had been searching for days, asking vendors, dock workers, anyone who might have seen him. He hadn’t been at the tea house. Hadn’t stopped by her shop. He had vanished—and in the wake of the god’s passing, that absence had begun to gnaw at her.

And then, just as the sun began to dip behind the mountains, she saw him.

He was standing at the edge of the harbor, facing the open sea, his posture still but not at ease.

Something in her chest tightened.

He looked tired. Not physically—there was no slump to his shoulders, no telltale exhaustion in his stance—but something deeper. A weariness that did not belong to a man who had simply had a long day.

She approached quietly, though she doubted he hadn’t already noticed her. Still, she didn’t say anything at first, simply stepping up beside him and letting the sea breeze wash over them both.

"You disappeared," she finally said, her voice softer than she intended.

A long pause. Then, quietly—

"I know."

[Name] studied him out of the corner of her eye. His face was unreadable, as it often was, but there was something about him that felt… distant.

She crossed her arms. "Alright. You wanna tell me what that was all about?"

He exhaled slowly. "It was… necessary."

She frowned. "Disappearing for days was necessary?"

He turned his gaze toward her then, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "I have spent much of my life fulfilling expectations, upholding traditions. And now, for the first time, I find myself free of them."

[Name] tilted her head, studying him. There was something in his voice that made her hesitate—something deep, something old.

"You say that like you don’t know what to do with it," she said carefully.

He huffed a quiet chuckle, but there was no humor in it. "Perhaps I don’t."

That alone made her chest tighten. Zhongli had always been so steady, so sure of himself. He always had an answer, always spoke as if he already knew the outcome of every path.

To hear him admit uncertainty now was… unsettling.

She nudged his arm lightly. "You could’ve at least told me you were gonna go off and contemplate life for three days. I wouldn’t have worried."

His lips quirked slightly. "That is a lie."

[Name] sighed dramatically. "Alright, fine, I would have worried. But you still should’ve told me."

Zhongli glanced back toward the water, his expression unreadable once more. "I will keep that in mind."

She studied him again, biting her lip before finally stepping closer. "Look, I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours," she admitted, "but I know you. And I know that whatever this is, you’re probably making it more complicated than it needs to be."

Zhongli said nothing.

[Name] sighed, softer this time. "Just… don’t disappear again, alright? You’re allowed to figure things out without shutting everyone out."

Another long pause.

Then, finally, he nodded. "I understand."

She gave him one last look before stepping away, heading back toward the city. "Good. Now come on, I’m starving, and you owe me dinner for the stress."

For the first time in days, something in him settled.

He turned, following her without question.

The seasons passed, and life in Liyue carried on. The city adapted, as it always had. Though the loss of Rex Lapis had shaken its people, the foundation of Liyue remained strong. Trade continued, merchants prospered, and the world did not end without its god. The people learned to stand on their own, just as he had always intended.

And Zhongli continued living as one of them.

It had been a slow process at first. He had spent lifetimes watching from a distance, unbound by time, unshaken by change. But now, for the first time, he was a part of it. No longer just an observer, but a participant.

And [Name] was there, as she always was.

Their walks through the harbor continued to be part of their rhythm, their evening tea an unspoken tradition. When she worked late into the night, he would often be waiting outside her shop, two cups of tea in hand. When he found himself wandering the marketplace, he would hear her voice calling to him before he even had the chance to seek her out.

Nothing had changed, and yet everything had changed.

They never named what they were, never spoke about it outright.

But one evening, as the lanterns swayed overhead and the scent of the sea drifted through the air, Zhongli decided it was time to change that.

Their usual tea house was quieter than normal tonight, the hum of conversation a distant murmur beneath the rustling leaves. The summer breeze carried the scent of flowers and salt, the lantern light flickering against the polished table between them.

[Name] sat with one leg crossed over the other, absently swirling the tea in her cup, her other hand resting against her cheek as she watched the people pass by. She looked content. At ease in a way she hadn’t been when he had first met her.

Zhongli watched her, as he often did.

But tonight, for the first time, he was ready to speak.

“I have been thinking,” he began, setting his cup down with deliberate care.

[Name] let out a quiet chuckle. “Uh-Oh.”

He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “I have come to a conclusion.”

That caught her attention. She tilted her head slightly, her teasing demeanor softening just enough for curiosity to take its place.

Zhongli met her gaze, steady and sure. “I would like to grow old with you.”

Her breath hitched.

He continued, his voice even but warm. “You spoke of this once, of wanting me there when your final day comes. And at the time, I was hesitant, uncertain.” He shook his head slightly, as if at himself. “Not because I did not wish for it, but because I had spent so long resisting the idea of permanence, believing that it was not mine to have.”

[Name] didn’t speak. She didn’t even breathe.

Zhongli reached for his cup again, fingers brushing along the porcelain as he considered his next words. “But I no longer wish to stand at the edge of life and watch from afar. I no longer wish to count time while ignoring the days right before me.” He looked at her again, something deep and unwavering in his gaze.

“I wish to spend those days with you.”

[Name] exhaled, setting her tea down with a quiet clink. For once, she didn’t have a quip, a teasing remark to cut through the moment. She simply nodded. “Good,” she murmured. “I was starting to think you’d never say it.”

His lips quirked slightly, a faint, knowing smile. “You always did have patience.”

“Mm, debatable.” She smirked, leaning back. “But I like hearing you say it, so I’ll take it.”

Zhongli chuckled softly, then let the moment settle before adding, “There is something else I have been considering.”

[Name] raised a brow. “Oh? More big revelations?”

He exhaled, resting his hand against the table. “We should have names for one another.”

That made her pause. She blinked, tilting her head. “Names?”

“Titles,” he corrected. “A way to define what we are to each other.”

[Name] furrowed her brows slightly, searching his expression. “You really do make everything sound complicated.”

Zhongli merely inclined his head, waiting.

She let the silence sit for a moment, then hummed, tapping her fingers against the table. “Alright. If that’s the case, what do you want these titles to be?”

Zhongli studied her, his gaze unwavering.

“I believe we are bound,” he said simply, not answering her question.

[Name]'s breath caught, though she quickly masked it with a half-smile. “Bound, huh? That’s one way of saying we’re stuck with each other.”

“Let me finish, but first, let me clarity. We are not not stuck with each other,” he corrected. “We have chosen each other.”

Something flickered in her expression—something hesitant, something hopeful. She didn’t respond immediately, letting his words settle.

Zhongli allowed a small smile before continuing. “I have always valued certainty, and you once told me that if we were to move forward, it would require commitment.”

Her brow furrowed slightly. “I mean, yeah. I think that goes without saying.”

He inclined his head. “And as you know, I place great value in contracts.”

[Name] stared at him, blinking once. Then again.

A slow, dawning realization flickered across her face, her eyes widening just slightly.

Zhongli did not elaborate.

“…Hold on,” she said suddenly, sitting up straighter. “You—did you just—” She squinted at him. “Did you just propose to me by calling it a contract?”

He did not correct her.

[Name] gawked. “Oh my god—you totally did.”

Zhongli took a calm sip of his tea. “That is in my nature.”

She groaned, running a hand down her face before letting out a breathless laugh. “You absolute—”

She shook her head, exasperated but undeniably happy. And despite her teasing, despite her laughter, despite all of it, there was something warm and real settling between them.

Because he hadn’t corrected her.

Because, in his own strange way, he had meant it.

[Name] exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. “Alright, fine. You wanna call this a contract? Let’s call it a contract.” She leaned forward, her smirk curling at the edges. “Just know—if we’re doing this, I expect fair compensation.”

Zhongli lifted his brow. “And what would that entail?”

She reached for his hand across the table, lacing her fingers with his. “Every day. Every month. Every year ahead of us.” She squeezed his hand. “That’s the price.”

Zhongli’s grip tightened around hers, his golden eyes steady.

“Then consider it signed.”

And, for just a fleeting moment, he felt a quiet sense of relief—not just in the certainty of her words, not just in the weight of the choice they had made together, but in the fact that this was a contract he could uphold... without financial strain. No expensive fees, no costly tributes—just time, shared freely, something he could give in abundance until the end of their days.

[kryptznnn]

Hiya!

I hope you're doing well

I had sorta of a specific request fem! reader x Bakugo first time (nsfw)? Reader and Bakugo known each other since middle school and hated each other's guts but then in the first year of ua thing start to change... Like a enemies to rivals to lovers thingy

And they confess to each other a day before the final war

Now it's several months after that and when Bakugo takes reader for hiking on the weekend but then end up having their first time in the hot springs?

Sorry if it's too much! Thankss!!❤️✨

♛/♡- Take It Easy

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➸ INTERESTS; - aged up! katsuki bakugo x f!quirk-using reader

➸ BACKGROUND; - (requested submission) Before the final war, Katsuki had made you promise to him your safety and future with one another, and you did. It wasn’t expected for either of you however for you to end up in a coma after the battle. After waking up you hadn’t expected everything to take a turn for the better so quickly.

➸ WARNINGS; - wc.5.8k, mentions of memory loss, comatose mentions, reader in a hospital patient, fast recovery, angst, fluff, kissing, vacation mentions, smut, p in v, orgasm mention (both f and m), etc.

➸a.i; - im so sorry this is so late oh my god, ive been going through lots of loads but im bulldozing through other works!! bare w me!

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“I love you”

The words echoed in your mind as you sat in your hospital bed, accompanied by concerned family. For the first time ever possibly, you saw your father cry, he never did. The entire situation just an hour ago was intense and very emotional, you hadn’t even known, but apparently you were in a coma.

And not for a short period of time, because when you had asked if it was for a week or a month your mother only scoffed before crying again. Your father was the one to break the news to you saying it had been nearly over half a year. You felt your heart race and breathing begin to quicken when you heard his words, quickly lunging for your phone that had been handed to you and checking the year.

You began to cry, harder than before now when you realized what had happened. After the battle you were fatally injured, but all of your wounds were long healed now, even the scars were faded, but over half a year of your life had been gone. Your family, your friends, birthdays, holidays, memories, all of it had gone to waste.

After your settlement and small discussion with your family you couldn’t help but think about your friends, or more importantly Katsuki. His confession and promise still ringing in your head as before as you sat off and stared into space.

It’s been over half a year, maybe things have changed even more than you thought. He could’ve moved on or even forgot about all of you and everything that had happened. Either that or he was too embarrassed to even see you. A frown quickly appeared on your face as you gripped your covers softly.

Your family immediately took sign of your reactions but before anything else could be said or done, a nurse had soon walked in saying everything had been cleared and you were free to go. As you prepped yourself and changed your clothing you had felt your phone buzz in your pocket, but you hadn’t paid it any mind and continued on with your night.

You helped your family pack the car as majority of your stuff was with you in the room until you had woken up. In all honesty after hearing half a year has passed you were surprised you were still alive, let alone that no one had given up on you during your time period of being here.

As you were on the road with your parents you asked them about it, they had responded saying that over the months you had progressed. Slight movements or even weak speech, and they knew that they still had a shot with you. It was more of you being lost within your own mind during the period, and the possibility of your quirk keeping you in a comatose like state out of fear.

That made sense for a moment, at least satisfactory towards you. As you pulled your phone from within your pocket you had also been given back your old headphones, smiling as you connected them to your phone before playing music. As you went through your phone with messages or social media you were surprised to see hundreds of messages and notifications all in your favor, entirely overwhelming you.

You made it your mission for this week before going to bed every night to speak to each and every single one of them. Speaking of what had happened and that you were back to your full potential and thanking them for their prayers and support over the months. Some of them cried and wanted to immediately come and visit you, but you informed them already that you’d have to clear that with your parents first as they didn’t want you to be too overwhelmed.

After some time had passed you looked over the contact on your phone, hesitating to call you. You had hundreds of missed calls from him, and you wondered why if he knew where you were. Katsuki knew you were in the hospital and your parents never seized to speak of how he would leave his classes just to spend time with you here.

Apparently the first time you seemed responsive in the hospital he was there, and they had seen him smile for the first time. He would read to you, play music for you, and even just speak about his day. Everything hit you as hot flashes or blurs, and you weren’t exactly able to pinpoint the voice to the face from those long nights.

It was slightly surprising to say the least, no one had taken him as the romantic or caring type. Well, you knew he was, that’s what he had told you when he confessed to you before the war, as you did to him. Maybe it was his own way of coping with what had happened, the promise you shared with one another played back in your head.

"I’ll be waiting for you after all of this, I promise I’ll be safe, don’t cry.” He spoke to you, wiping your face slightly before smiling and leaving you behind with the other girls. Now here you sat in your room after half a year from then, different bedsheets and stuffy air, pressing ‘call’ on his contact list.

You listened to your phone ring for a while before checking the time at the top left corner, immediately hanging up once you realized how late it had been. Since the two of you were young, he never slept late, always an early bird. He hated how much you’d lecture and bully him about it calling him a grandpa, and he was always quick to insult you in return.

It was funny honestly thinking back to it all, the two of you seemed to despise one another in middle school, quick to throw insults and even get into physical fights where you’d have to be separated. Over time as you two matured and entered high school it wasn’t missed how the atmosphere seemed the change, your friend groups merging as you two had genuine priorities instead of just messing around with one another.

As much as you tried to avoid him it seemed nearly impossible, the universe going against your wishes and placing the two of you in situations almost constantly. Eventually the two of you had gotten closer and kept the label as friends, and surprisingly Katsuki was the first to come to you, mature enough to apologize for the past and all that’s happened between you two.

You too had apologized for your actions, knowing you were a handful and far from perfect when you were caught on a bad day. It seemed almost so sudden afterwards you couldn’t help but feel an attraction towards him, or possibly the attraction you had prior becoming stronger and transforming into something neither of you had expected.

At first when the others joked and placed the two of you together as a couple for pranks it bothered you, you would deny immediately and move on towards different things as Katsuki only got angry. Sooner than later as the jokes became more and more the two of you had just stopped arguing and defending it, as you thought he stopped because he was tired of it.

For someone who could argue for hours he sure seemed quiet towards the allegations of any romance or crushing happening between the two of you. You would only look away feeling your face warm slightly as you listened to your friends' troubling words, laughing afterwards to look over at Katsuki, who wore a small smile on his lips, only for you.

You tapped your knee before deciding to send him a text instead, hopefully able to read it when he woke up. As you began to type your mind wandered over what might’ve happened over the past year. If anyone had moved or gotten together, maybe by some miracle graduated early and continued with their training to become heroes.

[You: Hey, I know you’re asleep, when you wake up call me? I’m back home now and you’re the only person I haven’t had the chance to talk to]

You reread the message before hitting send, ensuring that was probably the most formatted message you could send. It was also similar to the same things you had said to others on the phone or in text messages to those that couldn’t stay on the phone.

You quickly got ready for bed afterwards as you charged your phone and said your goodnight to everyone before heading off. Surprisingly you fell asleep rather quickly than before, now dozing.

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You awoke to your mother knocking on your door and waking you up. You sat up groggily as you heard her words, slightly slurred in your ears but she ended up repeating herself as you took your covers off.

“You have a visitor, they’re waiting for you downstairs, and also pack a bag, you’ll be on a trip for a while.” She said before waving you off and closing the door to give you privacy.

You cursed mentally thinking of how random the scenario sounded. You had just been discharged a little over 24 hours ago and now you’re going on a trip? It all seemed so sudden to you but to your mother it seemed as if she had already known and everything was planned.

You only shrugged it off and went to the bathroom you had familiarized yourself with before preparing yourself. You soon got ready and washed up before making your way back to your room and began packing. You packed your old clothing, makeup, anything a girl could for any trip imaginable into a suitcase and carry-on bag. Grabbing your other essentials such as your chargers and wallet leaving them in the outside pockets before making your way into the living room.

As you were lost in thought you checked your messages, eager to see who had answered you, or more specifically if Katsuki had. To your dismay he hadn’t, only leaving your message on seen early this morning around 7. You checked the time before announcing your presence in the kitchen, 11:27am.

“Good morning, I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to pack so I kind of packed everything? I got a bathing suit too just in case.” You mentioned awkwardly looking at your suitcase that had dragged behind you before looking into the kitchen to see your mother. She only nodded and pointed towards the dining room, making you leave your bag behind as you peered behind the wall to see your father sitting down chatting with someone.

“Katsuki…” you breathed in disbelief when you saw the familiar haircut of the boy. He turned his head quickly, cutting off your father before immediately pushing back his chair and pulling you into a hug you tightly. To which you hugged him back and practically sobbed into his shoulder, as you quickly pulled back and wiped your face you cupped his face with your hands, examining him.

He had so many new scars you had never seen before, or any that you would remember for the most part. It was so good seeing him, it felt as if you two had spent a lifetime apart. Being around one another since middle school hadn’t helped the fact you were gone for so long either. He wore a sad smile on his face as he looked at you, his hair was different, the same color but he must’ve had an undercut from where you were standing.

Whatever it was it suited him, he’s changed so much and yet so little in just barely a year. You knew it wasn’t the same for you though, if anything from the time you spent in the hospital you had definitely shed a few pounds and your hair had grown longer, not being able to get as much nutrients as you had when woken.

“You haven’t changed, at all.” He spoke, keeping his hands at your sides as he examined your figure and face, you only shook your head and smiled before pointing to the large scar on his cheek.

“I could heal this for you, you know? Don’t have to keep it forever, it changes your face so much.” You spoke as you rubbed it slightly, he shook his head and ushered you to take a seat beside him, your breakfast already being there. You obliged and sat down beside him taking a bit of the food in front of you before he spoke.

“Nah, I like it this way. Plus, everyone else thinks it makes me look badass.” He spoke, nodding to himself out of approval, you only laughed at him, covering your mouth as you ate. Without you even realizing your parents had both left the area, possibly going to the living room or their bedroom who knows.

You finished your food quickly as you listened to Katsuki speak of everything that had happened with him over the past year. He made sure to fill in every detail and not leave out anything, seeing your confused, upset, excited, or disgusted expressions at his words, smirking at each of them.

As you cleaned yourself up and listened to his plans, he had spoken to your parents prior. For when you were discharged, he wanted to take you out properly to celebrate with you, as he had planned too after the battle, but was unable too because of your condition. The dots clicked in your head as to why your mother had asked you to just now pack everything you could as you had a surprise awaiting you.

Till now it was still a surprise, as Katsuki refused to reveal the destination of where you two were headed after you said your goodbyes to your family. You two shared excessive conversation the entire trip, only taking a little under an hour to arrive as he took the highway.

You had been in his car before, only once a twice before hand after his small confession between the two of you. He had taken you out several times, the two of you enjoying the time together, however now felt different. You knew how much had changed, but you just didn't expect you'd been out for so long.

You appreciated how much he tried to take your mind off of it when you confessed how you really felt, feeling as if you lost a large piece of yourself. He never failed to make you laugh and feel as if nothing had changed between the two of you, and honestly it hasn't.

After his confession just days before he had gotten matching necklaces for the two of you. You loved to ridicule him on it, never taking him for the sappy type or extreme lover type of person, but you could see how honestly. Deep down under that tough layer of attitude and hardships was just a caring man, and you appreciated everything he had done. He wasn't afraid to hide it either, he confessed it as he held it between his fingers showing it to you as he drove.

The only time it wasn't out for all to see was when he was out on his minor hero duties, tucking it within his uniform as a safety precaution. By some miracle during the battle, you had kept yours, expecting it to be lost in battle. It stayed on until now, and you fidgeted around with your own as he showed you with a smile before looking out the window to the side, watching the sunset as several colors mixed into the sky.

He opened the window for you, but not entirely. You closed your eyes and rested partial of your head and arm against the window as you felt the wind blow into your hair. It felt peaceful, it was peaceful, you were having so much fun and couldn’t wait for what was in store later on in the day once you arrived at your destination.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

"You brought me to a springs resort?" You asked, stepping out of the car raising a brow as Katsuki stood at your door, closing it behind you. He only nodded before going over to the trunk of his car and opening it.

"Yeah, but we'll be doing plenty of stuff this week, wanna get you back in your vibe n' have some fun." He spoke, now getting both your suitcase and bag along with his own, holding them in each hand. You were quick to take your luggage from him as he complained about it, before locking his car and speed walking ahead of you.

You only laughed a small while and followed right behind him, listening closely to his small conversation with the receptionist. You watched him pull out a card that you hadn't recognized before thanking the receptionist and quickly locking arms with you before walking off.

You raised a brow at him as the two of you made it over to the room number you were sure to memorize from the receptionist's words, '163'. You still couldn’t wrap your head around everything that’s happened to you in just the past two weeks from waking up from the hospital.

It was a lot to deal with, and you were surprised with just how well you were handling it. You’d heard of others and even seen movies of how people were after waking from a coma, losing memories, constantly fatigued, practically shifting into a different person, and yet here you were, stronger than ever. Maybe it was your quirk helping you with the most of it, but you felt fine, better than fine, you felt perfect.

Although times have changed and you’ve missed out on a lot of things, to Katsuki you were always there. Even if he was tired throughout his worst days of training or duty, he’d still stop by the hospital just to talk his feelings out.

You admired that about your relationship, the two of you weren’t all loud and public, because that didn’t matter. What mattered was how you too felt about one another and didn’t let anyone come between you two. Katsuki wasn’t a vocal person; he wasn’t the type to be out there or express himself all the time.

He was more of a physical person, the definition of ‘actions are louder than words'. He was never afraid to hold your hand or stick close to you wherever the two of you were, and you loved it. Like right now, how his hands were full as he held luggage from the car and the key to open the door and yet still kept his arm linked with yours.

He let you walk in first and was quick to follow behind you, placing the bags down by the door side and following in your steps. You took time to scan the room before turning to him quickly, a wave of dizziness hitting you before you hunched over holding your head.

He was quick to come to your side, his hands holding your shoulders and ushering you to side down. He knelt in front of you as you sat, caressing your cheek with a hand before placing it on your forehead with a frown.

You quickly swatted his hand away, rolling your eyes and scoffing. Irritation was quick to come flooding into your chest, you were perfectly fine. You’re here for vacation, not to be babied, there’s no way this was happening now of all times.

“I’m fine, I just missed my step.” You said, earning a raised brow from Katsuki, who now sat with his legs crossed in front of you while your legs were planted on the floor from the edge of the bed.

“You missed your step because your dizzy, that move was too quick for you, js take it easy.” He spoke, tapping your knee before getting up to get the bags in front of the door. You only watched him with a slight frown, maybe this vacation wasn’t going to be as much fun as you thought.

You were going to get up, but hesitated, anxiety slowly replacing the irritation in your chest from earlier. You wanted to help, especially with your own bags, even as Katsuki insisted, he had everything handled, it wouldn’t kill him to have a little help.

You only sat there in your thoughts, debating as you chewed on the inside of your cheeks. Initially you gave up with a sigh, now laying flat back down on the bed with a thud, causing Katsuki to perk his head up.

“I’m surprised you haven’t said anything about there only being one bed.” He spoke, you only turned your head and smiled softly, listening to him as he walked out of the bathroom and began checking the drawers in the room.

“I was going to say something before I toppled over.” You spoke in honesty, closing your eyes as you did so. It was the only reason you had turned around so suddenly, prepared to make a joke out of it before the situation escalated far from what either of you two had expected.

You heard shuffling from your side before feeling the bed sink as he sat next to you. You turned your head to look up at him with a smile, to which he returned the favor. Just as you did so a thought popped up in your head that you had no choice but to say aloud.

“Sorry for not being there for your birthday.” You said in a joking manner, nudging him in efforts to laugh with you as you began giggling. You soon stopped and looked at him with a look of regret when his smile formed into a straight line, now turning his head to look at the wall.

Honestly, if he were to speak on the situation, he wasn’t sure if he would be more hurt to see your reaction if he told you what happened or just remembering it all together. Whatever outcome was to show he was sure he wasn’t going to say even a word of everything.

Throughout the whole day you had always asked him how he was doing, and now he was happy, perfect even. He had gotten back the one thing that he couldn’t fathom losing, his mother had always spoken of how some people grieve differently and he never understood until your accident.

Katsuki hadn’t grieved, whether distance relatives who passed which he had to attend their funerals, or past pets that’ve run away, he never grieved. He was so quick to channel any other emotion he was feeling into rage that he wasn’t sure what to do with himself while you were gone.

His parents asked him countless times what he wanted for his birthday, whether it was a new car or anything they could afford. Just to cheer him up they even mentioned having a party or getting his favorite kind of cake, but when his response to what he wanted was you they could only turn to one another with a frown.

For the first time in all of his years of celebrating his birthday he cried. He wasn’t sure as to why he couldn’t stop, but whenever you came to mind, he just couldn’t help it. His entire room was filled with you, framed pictures you’d placed on his dresser, or the shoes and hair ties you’d purposely leave, all of it stayed in his room, always left untouched. Not to mention the fact alone that he went on to call your phone countless times just to hear your voicemail.

That day was also one of the first times he hadn’t come to visit you where you rested, and the guilt nearly ate him alive. It broke his mothers' heart to see her only child this way, and it hurt even more knowing she couldn’t console him and say everything would be alright when she herself didn’t even know if it was true.

So, he decided to close all of it off, not let it go and erase it, there was no erasing it. It was easier holding onto you now and pushing to move forward than hold onto the past of everything that’s happened. He knew all couples went through situations that would impact their relationship, but if strong enough they’d overcome it, that’s simply what’s happening now.

“It’s okay” he spoke, his voice hoarse as he stood up to look outside, seeing that it was getting late as the colors of the sky were drained. He turned to you, now sitting up on the bed remembering his plans for the night. Thankfully the two of you had eaten before arriving here, completing the easiest task before this one.

“Are you okay?” You asked, now getting out of the bed with caution as you made your way up to Katsuki, opening your arms to offer a hug. He cocked his head to the side before smirking at you, leaning over to embrace you before kissing your cheek.

“Did you pack a bathing suit? Got something I wanna show ya’.” He spoke, grinning at you as he pointed out the door, you only nodded to his question, curiosity now gnawing at your brain. “Go in the bathroom and put it on, I’ll wait for you.” He spoke cheerfully you only nodded awkwardly as you went to do so.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

You were currently walking blindfolded with Katsuki in front of you, or at least you hoped he was. He was holding your hand tightly as he walked slowly, ushering for you to not remove your blindfold. It was cold, and not just because you were wearing your two-piece bathing suit, but because of the cold air that blew from behind you. You could practically feel the goosebumps ridden all over your skin.

"Y'know I had planned this to be a hiking trip, but I didn't wanna take any risks with ya'." He spoke, now placing both of his hands on your shoulders and standing from behind you before removing your blindfolds. "So, we're choosing the safer option tonight." He finished, watching your reaction as you opened your eyes to see the hot springs in front of the two of you, and surprisingly vacant.

He had explained everything to you in order to calm some of your nerves down, this was simple and sweet, he had planned everything out since before the great battle, but the aftermath pushed back everything. Even so, when he woke up in the middle of the night to see a missed call from you and his other friends texting him about your status, he was quick to rebook his reservation and pay everything off late and let your parents know it early morning.

He was sure this was a perfect idea, it was safe, and the water was warm, of course it was safe, anywhere with him was safe. He too had never let go of your hand, only intertwining your fingers with one another as he smiled at you softly, pulling you deeper into the water until the warm waves clashed against your shoulders and his torso repetitively with your actions.

"You look so beautiful" was all he said, you smiled widely and looked off to the side, nodding as a 'thank you' and placing your hands on your arms crossing them before undoing it as your bathing suit strap loosened and fell. You were quick to toss it back over your shoulder properly before Katsuki took notice of it, raising a brow.

"Sorry, it's kind of loose on me, I haven't worn it in... a while." You hesitated, chewing on the inside of your cheeks as you thought back on everything. It wasn't surprising that in the time that had passed you'd lost weight, but even before hand you hadn't really liked speaking or boasting on your body, now it felt as if things were unfamiliar to you, and you weren't sure how to handle it.

"I'll fix the straps for ya, js' turn around." He spoke, positioning himself upright against one of the rocky walls behind the two of you. You only nodded and obliged, fixing yourself properly against him as you held onto the top of your bathing suit, looking away at anything to ease your mind of the tension that circled you two.

It was normal to have tension, you two were a couple, this is a couple thing. You took a deep breath, exhaling softly as you felt Katsuki's fingertips brush against your back and shoulders, adjusting your straps. He was gentle and his hands were warm, relieving you of the previous goosebumps you had. He had moved your tied hair to the side, gently placing his hand over your neck in a swift movement before lowering himself to kiss you on your upper shoulder, making you shudder slightly.

You gave in of course, being taken by surprise before but now relaxing a bit in his hold, he was quick to lower both hands now, embracing you from behind. You smiled to yourself softly as you closed your eyes and rested your head back on his chest, feeling him press a kiss on the top of your head before speaking.

"I missed you, a lot." He said, you chuckled a bit and shook your head at his words, feeling flattered he felt that way and that you were able to make him feel that way. Honestly if you were to travel back in time to you 10 years ago there was no way you would've expected to get this far with Katsuki, then again here the two of you are.

"Careful, your extra soft sweet spot is showing, thought you wanted everyone to know you're badass." You spoke with a smile, hearing him scoff at your joke as you laughed, he only held you tighter before speaking again.

"I feel more comfortable with you" he said with a sigh, making you frown slightly with sadness. You only turned to him and flashed a smile, letting the guilt that sat heavily in your chest die down as you brought your hands up to his face and caressed it.

"I'm not going anywhere, I swear it." You said sternly, nodding as you looked into his eyes, he only smiled and turned his head to the side, kissing your hand. Without any hesitation he leaned down to kiss you passionately, and you nearly immediately gave in, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to pull him in deeper.

He was quick to respond, lowering his hands that were wrapped up around your back lower, underneath your bottom in a way to saddle you up. You jumped slightly and slowly, the water slowing your movements, but it was just enough to get you into his arms and up on him as the two of you continued to exchange kisses.

You were the first to pull away, locking eyes with him as you caught your breath, as he did his as he placed you down back into the water smoothly. You watched as he diverted his eyes, not wanting to make eye contact with you, you quickly followed his face and stood in front of him, smiling and nodding to him.

"Are you sure you're ready?" He asked, his face covered in worry and concern to what you two were speaking of, taking things to the next step. You replied back to him with a firm answer and nodding with a smile again, kissing his cheek as a way to calm him a bit.

Oh, and trust it definitely worked, because as of now he had you pinned against the rocky walls underneath him as your moans echoed in the corner against the warm waves bouncing between the two of you. Your arms were flapped over his shoulders as he kissed your face all over, kissing the corners of your mouth trying to get you to kiss him again as you were distracted, focusing on trying to make this moment last longer before your second orgasm of the night began to build up.

You were also attempting to be as quiet as possible; it wasn't easy when Katsuki was purposely trying to fish noises out of you, angling your hips higher to thrust into you over and over again, grunting into your ear. You were hot and sticky, and your heart felt as if it was bursting out of your chest from such a euphoric moment you haven't went through before.

You were unaware of how much time had passed by but honestly, you wish you could stop time itself just to stay in this moment. Katsuki was so sweet with you, practically babying you through your previous orgasm and doing the same this time, he was so full of passion like you've never seen before.

The pit of your stomach began to tighten again as you dug your fingernails into the sides of his arms and shoulders as he penetrated you, the faint sounds of your sticky flesh clapping against one another echoing against the rocky walls.

"Kats... slow down, I-"

"Easy, easy, you close? I got ya'" He cut off, kissing the side of your face quickly before reaching one of his hands down towards your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion against the water. Your moans grew louder, now clashing your head down against his collar bones feeling your head spin and the heat between your legs get worse.

It hadn't helped that you two were in the water, it had splashed against your clit and nipples numerous times and every time felt more overwhelming than the last. There it was, that heat getting higher and higher with the coil getting tighter and tighter in your abdomen, without a second thought you threw your head back, just an inch away from hitting the rock walls.

It was written all over your face how unstable you had become, how close you were, Katsuki could read it all over your face the same way you could see the same expression on his face. He looked so handsome to you, his eyes shut tight as if trying to concentrate on his own orgasm.

Wrong, he was focusing on holding it in, not wanting to reach his peak before you. He had already taken two breaks before to try and stop the buildup, but he was so tired, his body was giving out, he was certain he wasn't going to last a minute longer. He was right about that, because right after you reached your climax only a few seconds after he was quick to pull out of you, groaning loudly into your shoulder as his body jerked forward.

It had taken a while for the two of you to catch your breath, yours a little longer than Katsuki, making him worry somewhat before coming down from his high. There wasn't a moment shared afterwards between the two of you where there wasn't any skin-to-skin contact, and you loved it.

"Let's finish this night in the bedroom don't you think?"

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

✴🕷 please do not copy, plagiarize, edit, or translate any works submitted by me. all works are originated and all other pictures used within those works are online images. thank you!! @kryptznnn 🌸my main navigation

[partoffantasy]

Love Letters - Liam Mairi

summary: while Liam is away on a mission, he leaves behind a series of handwritten notes for reader. As she finds them hidden in her daily routine, they become her anchor, a reminder that no distance can truly separate them.

pairing: liam mairi x fem!reader warnings: fluff word count: 1.4k

⸻⸻⸻✦ ♡ ✦⸻⸻⸻

Y/N didn’t notice the first note right away. It was small, tucked neatly beneath her dagger on the nightstand, the parchment slightly curled at the edges. The familiar slant of Liam’s handwriting made her heart stutter as she reached for it, unfolding the delicate piece of paper with careful fingers.

My Love,

I know you hate waking up alone, and I wish more than anything that I could be there when you open your eyes. But since I can’t, I’ll leave little pieces of myself behind. Starting with this—I love you. I’ll love you today, tomorrow, and every moment after. Try not to set anything on fire while I’m gone.

Yours, always.

She let out a soft, breathless laugh, pressing the note against her chest. Trust Liam to anticipate the ache of his absence before she even had time to feel it. Still holding the note, she made her way toward class, her mind entirely occupied with thoughts of him. She didn’t even notice Ridoc eyeing her curiously until he suddenly snatched the paper right from her fingers.

“What’s this?” he mused, dodging her immediate lunge to get it back. “A love letter? Oh, this is good.” He cleared his throat dramatically before reading aloud. “I’ll love you today, tomorrow, and every moment after.” He clutched his chest. “By the gods, Y/N, this is so sweet I think I might pass out.”

Violet and Rhi burst into laughter as Y/N groaned, face burning. “Give that back, Ridoc, or I swear—” “Liam really has it bad,” Rhi teased, grinning. “You’ve completely ruined him.” “I did not ruin him!” Y/N huffed, reaching for the note again, only for Ridoc to hold it just out of reach. “He was already disgustingly perfect before I came along.” “He’s an absolute goner,” Violet agreed, smirking. “I mean, we already knew, but this just proves it.”

Ridoc finally relented, handing the note back with a wink. “Fine, fine. But if he ever gets tired of writing you love letters, I’m happy to ghostwrite a few.” Y/N snatched it back with a scowl, though the warmth in her chest remained. “Liam would rather let a gryphon eat him whole.”

The second note appeared in the pocket of her flight leathers, crinkling beneath her fingers as she reached for her gloves.

My Love,

Did you know you furrow your brow when you’re concentrating? It’s adorable. And infuriating, because it makes me want to kiss you senseless when you’re deep in thought. But since I’m not there to do it, consider this my promise—I’ll make up for every missed opportunity when I return.

Yours, always.

She swallowed against the warmth creeping up her neck, shoving the note back into her pocket before anyone noticed the flush on her cheeks. Y/N soared high above the training fields, the wind rushing past her as Caelan cut effortlessly through the sky. Liam’s words lingered in her mind, wrapping around her like the wind against her skin.

She had never thought about the way she furrowed her brow. But Liam had. Liam noticed. Just like he noticed how she always twirled her dagger between her fingers when she was restless. How she held her breath for a split second before throwing a punch. How she tapped her nails against the hilt of her sword when she was thinking through a strategy.

Liam noticed the smallest things about her—the things even she didn’t realize she did. And the weight of that realization settled deep in her chest. She thought about the little things that made him who he was. The way his hands always gravitated toward her, even in sleep—fingers brushing her arm, his palm resting against her waist, as if even unconscious he needed to touch. The way he always took the seat closest to the door when they were in a room together, an old habit from years of needing to be ready to protect at a moment’s notice. The way his lips curled into the softest, most unguarded smile when he thought no one was looking.

The way he always knew when she needed silence instead of words. When she needed a joke instead of comfort. When she needed him to pull her in instead of giving her space. Liam was observant, patient, steady—everything she wasn’t, but everything she needed. Caelan let out a sharp rumble beneath her, sensing the shift in her emotions.

"I’m fine," she assured him, though her fingers curled a little tighter against his scales. He didn’t buy it. Not that she expected him to. Not when Liam had left her feeling like this—warm and full, yet aching all at once. She adjusted her grip and Caelan angled into a wide turn, scanning the horizon out of habit. The rest of the patrol team was spread out in formation, but her mind remained locked on one thought.

She missed Liam. Not just his presence, but the way he saw her. And gods, she wanted to see him, too.

The notes kept coming. Hidden between the pages of her favorite book, slipped inside the satchel she carried to training, even tucked into Xaden’s back pocket for her to find. Each one was different—sometimes playful, sometimes tender, but always filled with Liam’s unwavering devotion.

By the time a week had passed, she had gathered a dozen of them, each a lifeline tethering her to him. She read them when the days felt too long, when the silence of her room felt too empty, when she missed the steady warmth of his presence beside her. And then, finally, he returned.

Y/N didn’t give him a chance to speak before she launched herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist as he caught her effortlessly, his familiar scent washing over her. “Miss me?” Liam murmured against her hair, holding her just as tightly. “Terribly,” she admitted. “But you already knew that.”

He chuckled, his breath warm against her skin. “I had a feeling.” Reaching into her pocket, Y/N pulled out a folded piece of parchment and pressed it into his palm. His brows lifted as he opened it, eyes scanning the words written in her neat, careful script.

Liam, my Heart,

You left pieces of yourself behind, but you didn’t realize—I carry you with me always. In every breath, every heartbeat, every thought. Your notes reminded me of what I already knew: that there is no world in which I exist without loving you.

I miss you like I miss the air when I’m drowning. It’s not just a passing ache—it’s something deeper, something woven into my bones. I see you everywhere, in everything. In the way the sun rises slow and steady, just like the warmth of your hands against my skin. In the way the wind shifts, constant and unyielding, like the way you’ve always been there for me. I see you in the stars, in the embers of a dying fire, in the pages of my favorite books—because no matter where I look, you are there.

I don’t know if I ever told you this, but before you, love was something distant. Something I could admire from afar but never touch, never hold in my hands. It wasn’t meant for people like us—people who have lost too much, who have been taught that love is something cruel, something fleeting.

But then you walked into my life with your quiet strength, your unwavering patience, your heart that has always been too big for this war-torn world. And suddenly, love wasn’t distant anymore. It was in the way you looked at me when you thought I wasn’t paying attention. In the way you knew when I needed a push and when I needed a hand to hold. In the way you saw me, truly saw me, when I wasn’t even sure I knew who I was.

I love you.

Not just in the easy moments, but in the hard ones too. In the silences between words, in the spaces between breaths. I love you in ways I don’t know how to put into words, but I hope you can feel it. I hope you never doubt it. I hope you understand that you are my home, my heart, my always.

Yours, always.

As Liam read the letter, his fingers trembled slightly, his chest tightening with every word. He had expected something sweet, maybe teasing, maybe affectionate. But this—this was everything. It was every unspoken truth, every quiet moment they had ever shared, poured onto a single page. His throat worked around a thick knot of emotion as he read it again, then again, as if trying to commit every word to memory.

And when he finally looked up, his sky-blue eyes found Y/N’s, and he knew—there was no world in which he existed without loving her, too.

[ghostsandfools]

Okay guys. Okay. OKAY.

I just went back and watched a couple of the astral related episodes that have released in the past few months and I have a LOT to say.

I don’t think we realize how messed up the astrals truly are. Like, they seem to have noble goals and all, but oh my goodness.

Okay, lets walk through Lunar’s entire life story real quick:

The first episode of TSAMS came out on March 24, 2022. That was a little less than three years ago now. Let’s just keep that in mind.

When Lunar was created, his entire purpose was to serve Eclipse. I’ll be honest, I’m not too familiar with early TSAMS. I joined the fandom a bit late. But Lunar underwent constant emotional and sometimes physical abuse from Eclipse. He was constantly belittled, made to feel worthless, and in the end, Eclipse killed him in front of somebody he cared about. His entire purpose was to serve Eclipse, and suddenly that purpose had been taken away from him.

Lunar was remade in space, granting him the ability to use star power. Gemini then came down to Earth to evaluate if he was a threat and train him in the ways of star power. In the very first episode they appear in, Castor asks Earth to “please leave Lunar alone and stop talking to him.” Earth obviously refuses, but this interaction is still interesting. It’s strange that their first instinct was to try isolating him from his closest family.

Castor and Pollux began training Lunar and eventually becoming closer with him. Lunar was freaked out at first, and it seems like he didn’t really enjoy his training at first, but eventually it kind of took over his life. Star power was his entire purpose. And when he began to develop feelings for Gemini, it only became a bigger part of his life. His personality and goals for the future revolved completely around star power. It was his new purpose in life.

Lunar messes up a couple of times and begins to fear what will happen if he lets his power get out of control. First he attacks Bloodmoon, then kills Eclipse. Killing Eclipse was the especially interesting event here. Afterwards, Gemini makes it very clear to him how much he’s fucked up. They tell him his life could be on the line, that the other astrals want him DEAD, and they seem to be withholding their affection. They don’t spend as much time with him, saying they’re busy with his court case. Killing someone is a bad thing to do, so it makes sense for Gemini to distance themself, but I think we should remember this.

And then, it just stops. Taurus tells him that if he can’t move on from his trauma with Eclipse, he can’t continue to train.

This is detrimental to him. He doesn’t know what to do without a purpose. Eclipse abused him, but he also gave him something to do. He gave him someone to be. His entire identity was serving Eclipse. And now, he thought he had moved on from that. He had a new purpose now, to serve Gemini, to train as an astral and make everyone proud. And now he’s suddenly being told that he can’t anymore? That if he doesn’t get over his trauma (which is exceptionally difficult to do) he won’t be able to train anymore?

And so he makes a mistake. Another very big mistake. He pursues negative star power, he hurts Earth, he’s temporarily shunned by his family. It’s a big mess, he goes to jail, he’s put on trial.

And do you know what Libra does to punish him? She finds him guilty and takes away his star power.

So… This whole time. This entire time, they could’ve taken his powers away. And yet, they didn’t. Why is that? Why is it that they let someone like him, who has been shown to lose control, keep these powers?

Alright. Let’s take a look at the astrals. Let’s take a look at what they’re really doing here, because I think it’s interesting.

I’ve talked about this before, but the astrals operate like a cult.

Lunar is traumatized. He is emotionally broken and he has no idea what to do with his life. He’s just experienced death and lost his purpose in life, and now he has no idea what to do. And all of the sudden, the astrals appear.

Cults will often prey on people who are going through a rough time, as they’re much easier to manipulate and control. Not only that, but when they did appear on Earth, as I mentioned earlier, Castor asked Earth to “stop talking to Lunar” so they could evaluate if he was a threat. Cults will often isolate their victims away from their family and friends. Obviously they didn’t go through with this step, Lunar kept in contact with his family during his training, but it’s clear the astrals will use isolation as a way to control people. Remember when Nebula tried to befriend Earth and Taurus immediately scolded her for stepping out of line?

Next, they trained Lunar. They told him he’d have to leave behind this life on Earth, that he had a bigger purpose now. He wasn’t just an Earthling anymore, he was special. He could become somebody noteworthy if he trained hard enough. And they got closer to him, went on a vacation with him, spent time with him. Eventually they even pursued a romantic relationship with him.

But during this time, it was clear that they weren’t being completely honest with him. If he asked to many questions they’d say “you aren’t far enough into your training to know that yet.” They’d withhold information from him, yet another method often used by cults. They kept him enticed with the promise of something more. If he could get his emotions under control, if he was just a bit stronger, maybe Gemini would like him then. Maybe then they could be fully honest with him. Maybe then he’d be truly worthy.

They stayed committed to him. When he was in trouble, they went to court for him. They trained him diligently, stood up for him, they were always by his side. They cared for him.

And then, of course, disaster struck. They stopped training him. Lunar felt lost, he made a mistake, he had everything taken away from him. He lost his family, his friends, his partner. His entire life fell apart.

But think about why this all happened. They could’ve taken his power away. They could’ve come down to Earth, taken his powers away immediately, and been done with it all. None of this needed to happen.

I don’t think Lunar was justified when he killed Eclipse, and I don’t think it was okay for him to attack Earth either. Trauma isn’t an excuse to hurt people. But Lunar hasn’t had a break within the last two years.

First it was Eclipse, then the astrals, Bloodmoon, Nexus. He was abused every day for years, he died, he was brought back and began spiraling into depression, and then he was indoctrinated into a cult. Now he’s messing around with dark star power and getting himself into trouble.

And even now, he’s trying to be better. He’s been torturing himself, putting himself in that machine Moon made where he listens to his loved ones berate and verbally abuse him. Why? So he can impress Gemini. So he can have a purpose again.

TSAMS is the kind of show that’s meant to go on for a long time. The action has to happen FAST! But because of all the fast paced action, Lunar has been in multiple traumatic situations with no real breaks for two straight years now, and i think it’s messed up. He’s made a lot of mistakes, but he’s trying his best. I feel bad for him.

[vettelsvee]

COME WHAT MAY | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PROLOGUE: A PHONE CALL AND A NEW BEGINNING [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

come what may masterlist | formula 1 masterlist

Red Bull Sebastian Vettel x Red Bull intern & Webber girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: Sebastian breaks up with Hanna and Y/N, his best friend, offers him to go to her hometown to try disconnect from everything. However, things take a turn for the worst when Mark Webber, Seb's teammate and Y/N's boyfriend, calls her and starts thinking she's cheating on him with Vettel.

WORD COUNT: 7337

WARNINGS: Angst, curse words and bad language, such a toxic Mark Webber, mentions of death, cancer and suicide

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @residentdemonhunter @astronomyandfrogs @herdetectivetheorist @prttylight @i-love-sirius-black7 @dreamauri @03071987 [feel free to join the taglist!]

VEE'S NOTES: I absolutely adored writing this, so I hope you like it reading too! If so, feel free to comment me your thoughts, as well as rebloging it since I'd appreciate that a lot! Thank you so much for reading in advance <3 ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

Linz, Austria January 15th, 2010

"Sometimes I wonder if, besides whether I deserve everything I've achieved, I'm actually doing good enough to keep it. I mean... do I deserve my position at Red Bull, or are they just keeping me because Seb was the one who got me in, and now I'm also Mark's girlfriend? And about that last part... am I really what my boyfriend deserves, or, like dad says, is it just a passing fling of a few months where I only want to sleep with him as some sort of stress relief? Seb says that, as long as Mark makes me happy, that's what matters, but... does Mark really make me happy? Or is it..."

"I'll open the door, Dad!"

Louisa's voice snapped you back to reality.

Carefully, you put away the journal he had given you for your twenty-first birthday, which had served as your therapy ever since, in the nightstand drawer. Then, you jumped out of bed with an energy you hadn’t felt in a long time and cheerfully walked over to your desk. You carefully moved aside the scattered notes you still hadn’t put away despite the semester ending two weeks ago and made sure everything looked as presentable as possible. Your straightened hair fell over your shoulders, though your bangs needed a little fixing, nothing you couldn’t adjust with your fingers. You also applied some lip balm, more to add a bit of shine than to keep your lips hydrated. Lastly, you adjusted your clothes as best as you could, trying to relax as much as possible and, most importantly, remind yourself that he would be more than happy to see you, no matter how you looked.  

You knew that Sebastian Vettel was just your best friend, but in some way, you always tried to appear as perfect as possible before him to show you were worthy of his friendship.  

You knew that, no matter how much Sebastian had cherished you since you both met in 2008, when you joined Toro Rosso as an intern while he was already a driver, he was better than you in every way.  

The door suddenly opened, pulling you out of your thoughts and revealing your two younger sisters peeking through the gap.  

“Why are you taking so long?” Amelie, 15, inquired. “It’s not like your boyfriend just arrived…”

“Yeah, yeah! Why are you getting all pretty?” The youngest, Louisa, 8, chimed in. “Seb is already downstairs waiting for you. He’s talking to dad and uncle Hans about football, and I’m so bored…”

“Shut up you idiot,” Amelie responded, giving her a light shoulder tap. “Don’t listen to her,” she turned to you. “What they’re actually doing is grilling Sebastian about why he’s here today and, more importantly, why he’s staying with us for a few days.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. As far as you could remember, Seb hadn’t mentioned anything about staying over.  

“What do you mean, staying with us? Seb said that?”

“Uncle Hans thinks he’s just a friend, but dad believes you’re sleeping with him while also sleeping with Mark,” Amelie retorted.  

“How the hell would I be sleeping with Seb?!” you shouted, making your sisters step inside the room and slamming the door shut. “That’s… ridiculous, that’s what it is,” you added, trying your best not to curse.  

“But if dad says it, it must be true, Didi,” Louisa replied, a bit annoyed. “You know dad never lies to us.”

“Listen to me, both of you,” you cut them off. “I need you to behave and promise me something.”

Amelie and Louisa exchanged curious glances before looking back at you.  

“I don’t want you to mention Mark in front of Seb. No jokes, no side comments about how much you dislike him… nothing. Got it?”  

“Why can’t I tell Seb I don’t like Mark if it’s the truth? Do I have to lie to him?” Louisa asked with her characteristic innocence. “I like Seb a lot, and I don’t want to lie to him…”

“Because…”

“If you’re hesitating that much it must be because you really are sleeping with Seb.”

“Amelie, shut it! Lou’s here!” you scolded, glancing at Louisa.  

“What does sleeping with mean? Does it mean you’re dating?” Louisa asked, looking at you one again with a mix of curiosity and doubt.

“Seb doesn’t have a girlfriend anymore, okay?”

Your statement left your younger sisters stunned. Louisa had liked Hanna quite a bit, and she had always been nice to her whenever they met. Amelie, on the other hand, even though she had liked the German woman, started wondering why that same German, who had seemed so in love with his girlfriend, had suddenly broken up with her.  

“Seb isn’t with Hanna anymore?”

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself and give them a convincing answer, even though you didn’t have one herself.  

“Yeah, Seb isn’t with Hanna anymore,” you replied as calmly as possible. “Don’t ask why because he didn’t give me many details other than, well… that he needed a break.”

“Does Mark know about this not-so-surprise visit?” Amelie asked, crossing her arms.  

Your heart skipped a beat. If there was one thing you hated about your middle sister, it was how nosy she was for a 15-year-old. If she was like this now, you didn’t even want to imagine what she’d be like in a few years.  

“Not everything revolves around Mark, Ame,” you brushed off the question because you didn’t know how to answer that no, your boyfriend had no idea about this visit, which you were more than thrilled about. “Seb is my best friend, and he’s going through a lot. And do you know what good friends do in bad times? They’re there for each other.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say…” Amelie replied, unconvinced.  

Louisa, who was about to say how happy she was that Vettel was there with them and how much she preferred him over Webber as your boyfriend, was interrupted by their father’s deep voice calling from downstairs:  

“Y/N Y/L/N, get down here! Your guest is tired of waiting!”

You quickly checked your reflection one last time, grabbed your phone, and, before opening the door, turned to your sisters with a stern look:  

“You two,” you pointed at them, “no jokes today. Not a word about Mark or anything related to him.”

The youngest nodded enthusiastically, bouncing slightly as she headed for the stairs. Amelie, however, simply shrugged and smirked mischievously.  

“I’ll think about it,” she said before following Lou down the stairs.  

“Amelie!” you hissed under your breath.  

“Fine, fine. I promise…”

Rolling your eyes, you made one final check to ensure you looked perfect before stepping out. Your heart pounded uncontrollably as you descended the stairs. You tried to push aside any thoughts that could make your reunion with Sebastian awkward, or let your nerves get the best of you.

However, everything seemed to go to hell the moment your eyes landed on the German.  

Sebastian was there, chatting animatedly with your aunt, Johanna, who was chopping vegetables. You were taken aback to see him with his sweater sleeves rolled up, still wearing his Red Bull beanie, as he carefully cut something.  

Afraid your friend might catch your staring, you quickly glanced at the dining table, where your father and uncle were still engrossed in the football discussion Lou had mentioned. Your sisters were at the other end of the living room, turning on the Wii console, likely to start a game of Mario Kart and try to get Seb to join them.  

You looked back at the driver the moment you heard him laugh, probably at something your aunt had said. He looked so natural, so comfortable, as if he truly belonged in your family. He hadn’t changed much since the last time you saw him, nearly three months ago, but you suddenly felt a strange sensation in your stomach, similar to the anxiety you got during exams, but for an entirely different reason.  

The more you observed him, the more you noticed how tired he looked. How… sad he seemed. And somehow, in a way you couldn’t quite explain, that made you feel absolutely awful.

Or perhaps you were beginning to admit what you had never acknowledged to yourself in order not to ruin the friendship you had always needed but never truly had.

“Ah, Y/N! Look who I put to work. He’s better than me at cutting onions. You should tell Seb to come visit us more often, so he can help me when your sisters don’t want to.”

Seb turned at the mention of his name. The smile he had missed so much appeared on his face the moment he saw you. Before you could say anything, he closed the small distance between you at an incredible speed and, without a word, embraced you.  

You remained still for a few seconds, surprised and unsure of what to do. The contact completely unsettled you, but as soon as he started stroking your hair, you relaxed and returned the hug, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist and pulling him closer.  

“You don’t even have an idea of how much I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your head.  

“I missed you too.” 

And you have no idea how much, you thought, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.  

Why did your entire being seem to change, becoming something so complicated and inexplicable, whenever he was near?  

If only he knew what that farewell at the last Grand Prix of the season had meant to you…  

When you pulled apart, the driver studied your face carefully. There was something about you that felt a bit unfamiliar… different. He couldn’t tell if it was your hair, a little shorter since the last time he saw you; the dark circles under your eyes, more pronounced than they should have been after three weeks of vacation before starting your final university semester; or the evident weight loss.  

“I really wanted to see you again,” he forced himself to say instead of asking what had happened to you to make you look so… different.  

You forced a small smile and lowered your gaze, embarrassed by not knowing what else to say. You had thought of telling him that he looked great, because, in your eyes, he always did, but decided against it, considering the reason he had come to visit.  

“So they put you to work, huh?” you finally said, gesturing toward your aunt, who was watching them while continuing to prepare dinner.  

“Not really. I volunteered,” Seb replied with a smile. Johanna was about to say something, but the young man interrupted her. “It’s the least I could do after you let me stay here for a few days.” 

You swallowed hard. You were more than happy to have your friend stay with your family for a few days, but… why couldn’t you remember anything about that conversation?  

“And let me tell you, he’s an excellent volunteer. If only Mark were more like…” 

“You don’t have to treat him like royalty, Johanna,” you cut off your aunt before she could say more. Seb blushed and started nervously playing with his hands. “He’s just…”

“Yes, I know, your friend,” the woman replied, apologizing to you with a glance. “But, as your friend, he is also our guest, and he deserves the best. Besides, he doesn’t complain about my excellent taste in music, unlike someone I know…” She added, glancing sideways at her husband.  

Seb chuckled, leaning against the kitchen counter without breaking eye contact with you.  

“At least it’s better than those weird songs Ricciardo used to play when we were at Toro Rosso. Do you remember when he got obsessed with playing Nessun Dorma before every race?”  

“Oh God, don’t remind me. I love classical music, but I still have nightmares about that.”

You both laughed at the memory of the year you met, when you had become each other’s biggest support. Everything had changed, perhaps too much, in those short two years, but what mattered most was that you still had each other, no matter what.  

At least, for now.

You tried to step a little closer to Sebastian, but the sound of your father dragging his chair and moving toward you made you step back shyly.  

“Well then… what’s the plan, Vettel? Are you staying here for a few days?”

Seb nodded nervously at Bernhard’s question. Even though he knew your father well and had met him countless times, he always felt nervous whenever they shared the same space, especially when they had a conversation.  

“Well… yes. If that’s okay with you, of course,” he quickly added, stepping closer to the older man. “I needed to get away from Switzerland for a bit, and even more from Heppenheim… to clear my head. And, to be honest, there’s no one else I’d rather spend this time with.”

His gaze shifted to you, who were trying to process his words. You kept glancing nervously between Bernhard and Sebastian, afraid one of them might say something inappropriate.  

“Of course, kid,” your father finally answered, giving Seb a pat on the back. “You know you’re more than welcome here. Hell, I should pay you extra for taking such good care of my little girl when you’re away!”

“Dad…”  

“I do it gladly, Bernhard. I’ve already told her, but in case she’s forgotten, let me say it again: I love spending time with Y/N.”

You lowered her gaze, embarrassed by all the attention you were receiving, and especially by the scene unfolding before you. You didn’t need to look up to know that Seb had his eyes on her, just like your father. You also knew that your aunt was probably muttering some comparison between your best friend and your boyfriend, and that your uncle would soon join in.  

Sebastian took a chance and, while continuing to talk with Bernhard who, due to his worsening health, had quickly taken a seat on one of the dining island stools, wrapped an arm around your shoulder.  

To their surprise, no one objected.  

“Uh… Dad?” you spoke up, your voice small and hesitant as you carefully removed Seb’s arm and leaned over the kitchen island.  

“Something wrong?”

“Would you mind if… if Seb and I went for a walk?” You asked timidly. “And would it be okay if we had dinner out?” You added, this time addressing your aunt.  

Johanna set down what she was doing and turned to you. She narrowed her eyes slightly, inspecting the pair of friends. Then, she placed the knife on the cutting board and turned to you with a smile.  

“Why are you asking me? You’re twenty-one, almost twenty-two, sweetheart,” she answered, now turning to Bernhard, who agreed with his sister-in-law. “You don’t need our permission to go out, Y/N.”

You opened her mouth to respond but immediately closed it again. Your cheeks turned a deep shade of red, standing out even more against your now pale skin. You stared straight ahead, absentmindedly playing with the hem of your sweater to avoid saying anything inappropriate again.  

To hide the fact that your insecurity and discomfort had, in some way, worsened since certain events with a certain person.  

“I think Y/N just wanted to check in case you were making extra food for dinner, Johanna,” Seb intervened. You met his gaze, silently thanking him for stepping in. “But if you’re worried about anything,” or Y/N, he thought to himself, “I promise to bring her back at a reasonable hour, safe and happy.”

Johanna raised an eyebrow. Meanwhile, Hans and Bernhard exchanged knowing looks, probably misinterpreting the German’s words, as they suddenly started chuckling.  

“Don’t even think about setting a curfew for my girl, Vettel. You’re a Formula 1 driver, and my daughter is six months away from graduating university. You’re both adults, for God’s sake!” Bernhard laughed, trying to keep a straight face.  

“We just don’t want you getting into trouble,” your uncle added. “I’m a lawyer, but I wouldn’t want you two as clients, especially not for free.”

Sebastian widened his eyes, unsure how to take the comment. You, on the other hand, just tried not to die of embarrassment, silently praying that the German was taking everything in stride.  

“Not to doubt you two, but, you know… trust is a dangerous thing.”

You can say that again, you thought, remembering the man twelve years older than you who, during your entire winter break, had barely reached out more than twice with phone calls that didn’t even last five minutes.

"Well, I think it's best if we start heading out," Seb commented as he grabbed his jacket from the back of a chair. "Come on, Y/N," he said, taking your hand while waving goodbye to your family with the other. "We won't be late, I swear!"

Your sisters said their reluctant goodbyes, thinking the German was going to play with them. Meanwhile, Hans and Bernhard started making bets about what would really happen between the two of you that night.

Johanna was the only one who walked you to the door, carefully adjusting your coats, scarves, and hats as if she was your mother.

"Have fun, you two, you deserve it. And you, Seb, don't think you’re getting out of helping me tomorrow. You still have to teach me that lemon cake recipe you always say your mother makes."

"Don’t worry, Johanna," Seb replied while holding the door open for you. "I’m saving my morning for you and your cooking sessions."

The woman smiled, delighted to have the German around, and said goodbye to you once more.

As soon as you stepped outside, the cool night air hit your faces. You took a moment to inhale and exhale, relaxing and feeling, for the first time in a long while, free. More than anything, you felt like yourself. Seb walked beside you, unable to stop smiling, grateful to be in his best friend’s hometown, with you by his side, helping him get through the rough patch caused by his breakup with Hanna.

"Do you always blush that much around your family, or is it just when you have company?" Seb asked after a while, nudging you playfully with his shoulder while keeping his hands in his pockets.

"Don't start with that, Seb! You know I can be a little shy sometimes..."

"It's okay, I already knew that," he interrupted. "I think it's really cute when you blush."

"Sometimes you're unbearable, you know that?" you shot back, playfully.

"I know, but you love me anyway."

It wasn't a question, but a statement. One you couldn’t argue with because she completely agreed.

And that, more than comforting you, made you worry more and more about your relationship.

Despite the recent snowfall, the streets of Linz were busier than you had expected. The ice-skating rinks were packed, and to your surprise, the winter market stalls, forming a kind of fair that attracted people of all ages almost daily and which you loved visiting, were overflowing with people.

Although taking Seb there had been your original plan for his first day, you had decided to do something more intimate with him instead, something you hadn’t done in a long time, not even with Mark. However, you knew your relationship with the German was special enough to share something so personal with him without regretting it afterward.

"Since this is the first time you’ve come to visit me, I’ve put together a little tour so you can really get to know my city," you explained, looking at him. "That way, when you leave, you’ll know Linz as well as I do. And maybe, if one day you bring someone here..."

"You’re going to show me what tourists don’t usually get to see, aren’t you?" he interrupted. "I mean… promise me you’ll show me every last little corner, even the ones way out on the city outskirts. That could really come in handy someday."

"No problem. I’ll show you everything you want," you replied, flashing him a proud smile.

He laughed at your comment. Taking his hands out of his pockets, he awkwardly brushed his right hand against your left one. You blushed and tried to move it away, but Seb didn’t let you, he ended up taking your hand, not caring that you were just friends and that you had a boyfriend.

Because you were just that, friends. No matter how much he wanted it, he could never, in his life, date someone like you. Because while Mark was already a man with a clear path and a well-established career, he was just a twenty-something still learning from every mistake he made.

With your hands still intertwined, Sebastian’s gaze roamed the streets, the people, and the buildings surrounding them.

"This place is beautiful, and peaceful in its own way despite the bustle. I can see why you love it so much..."

You nodded, feeling your heartbeat speed up. Linz wasn’t the best city in the world, nor did it hold many good memories for you since your mother’s suicide and your sudden move to Spain. But, at the end of the day, it was your home, and hearing him appreciate it meant more to you than you could ever admit.

You walked in comfortable silence for a while, stopping every so often so you could point out your old school, your university, and even your favorite café, the one you used to go to when studying at your aunt and uncle’s house became too chaotic.

However, just as you were nearing the place you wanted to take Seb, he broke the silence with a question that, while not entirely unexpected, was the last thing she thought he would ask.

"How are things with Mark?"

The casual question made you slow your pace slightly before quickly recovering and catching up with Sebastian.

"They’re… fine," you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "You know, the usual. He’s in London, I’m here, we call each other..."

Don’t lie to him, Y/N.

"And does that make you happy?"

"Yes, of course."

You wanted to tell Seb the truth, but you couldn’t.

This time, he was the one who needed support, not to listen to complaints and tears about a relationship with a questionable age gap and an even more questionable dynamic.

"And how are you doing after everything with Hanna?" you asked, changing the subject and hoping you hadn’t overstepped. "Ever since you called to tell me what happened, I’ve been worried, but I didn’t want to push..."

Seb’s expression darkened slightly. He let out a sigh that you were sure he had been holding in longer than he would’ve liked, staring straight ahead as you walked.

"We’re okay. I’m okay," he corrected himself. "Nothing weird happened or anything, it’s just that…" he trailed off, possibly choosing his words carefully before continuing. "We ended things amicably, you know? No hard feelings, no fights, nothing like that."

"Well, I’m glad to hear that," you replied, choosing your words carefully as well. "It caught me completely off guard because… I don’t know, it seemed like everything was fine. You two were together for three years…"

"Yeah, three pretty good years, but I think we realized we were only staying together because we were comfortable, because it was our routine, not because we actually loved each other." He paused, looking at you. "She never said it, and neither did I, but I get the feeling we wanted completely different things in life, and that was hurting us, even if we didn’t mean to."

"And that makes it even harder..."

"Exactly," he admitted, giving you a bittersweet smile. "But I feel like it was the right decision for both of us. It’s just that… making such a risky choice after thinking about it for so long, and wanting to do the right thing, is tough. Honestly, right now, being alone again is really difficult, but I guess it’s just a matter of time before I get used to it."

You didn’t know what to say, and you had no clue what deeper meaning lay behind Sebastian’s words.

"You won’t be alone, Seb," you managed to say, trying not to get nervous. "You have me."

He looked at you, his body relaxing slightly as your steps fell back into rhythm.

"I know. And, even if you don’t believe it, that means much more to me than you can imagine."

For a moment, nothing and no one else existed, just you. You stared at each other, lost in each other’s eyes, as thoughts raced through your minds. Thoughts that, if spoken aloud, would haunt them for the rest of your lives, shattering everything you knew and had between you.

It wasn’t until you cleared your throat and quickened your pace that the moment broke.

"Come on, we’re almost there. I have a reservation at seven, and I don’t want us to be late."

"Wherever you say, my dear tour guide," Seb replied.

After walking for a few more minutes, you stopped in front of a restaurant tucked away in a small alley. Sonnengarten, garden of the sun in German, was written at the top of the façade, painted in a warm yellow color. Along with the soft lights illuminating it directly and the hanging flower baskets, it invited people to step inside. The instrumental music playing, what seemed to be rock from the '60s and '70s, was the cherry on top.  

“Well, here we are,” you said, visibly excited as she entered the restaurant.  

Seb watched you, noticing the special sparkle in your eyes.  

“Thanks for bringing me here. It’s obvious this place means a lot to you.”  

“It does,” you nodded, a small smile on your lips. “My mother used to bring us here every weekend. We always switched up our orders because, well, we loved, and still love, trying new things, but my dad always ordered a schnitzel,” you explained with excitement. That only made Seb feel even more grateful that you had brought him to such a special place. “My sisters and I would always try to convince him to try something different and share some of our food, but he always refused and made up some silly excuse.”  

“So, this is like… a sacred place for you, right?”  

“Yes, very much so. But since my mom passed away, we haven’t come back. Actually, this is the first time in years that I’ve come here to eat…”  

Your statement made Seb’s chest tighten. He knew how Rosalie, your mother, had died nearly eight years ago. He was fully aware of the impact it had on your life, which was precisely why he was more than grateful that you were sharing this detail, this part of your life, this seemingly important family tradition, with him.  

His friend. His best friend.  

“Really, Y/N, thank you for bringing me here,” the driver said sincerely.  

Before you could respond, a middle-aged man appeared in front of you. He quickly approached you and hugged you, a gesture you gladly accepted.  

“My dear Miss Y/L/N! It’s been so long, little one! You finally decided to come eat here again… it was about time!”  

“I’m really happy to be back as a customer, Matthias,” you replied kindly.  

The man’s eyes shifted to Sebastian, whom he openly scanned from head to toe. Once he recognized him, his eyes widened. After all, it was widely known in the city that Y/N Y/L/N was not only an intern for one of the most successful Formula 1 teams of the past year but also lucky enough to be working with one of the sport’s rising stars.  

“Well, well, Sebastian Vettel!” the man exclaimed excitedly, offering his hand to the German, who shook it with a smile. “Are you two dating?” he asked curiously.  

“No, no! He’s just a good friend of mine,” you said quickly, avoiding Seb’s gaze. “My… boyfriend,” you managed to say, barely containing youR embarrassment, “is the other Red Bull driver, Mark Webber.”  

“Oh, well, no problem!” Matthias laughed heartily, giving Seb a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Any friend of our Y/N is a friend of ours. Now, come on, I’ll take you to the Y/L/N family table. I’ve been reserving it since Y/N told me she was coming.”  

Sebastian observed you as the waiter led you to a table in a corner by a large window. You simply shrugged and smiled, feeling proud to see how happy and, most importantly, how at ease the boy seemed.  

You couldn’t help but feel a little nervous and special at the same time when, before you could sit down, Seb pulled out the chair for you and pushed it in gently once you were seated.  

“Well, Miss Y/L/N, I’ll be back in a bit with the dishes I know are your favorites. Enjoy your evening.”  

The waiter winked at you and, once he was far enough away, you buried your face in your hands, utterly embarrassed by the scene you had just lived through.  

“Oh god… I can’t believe he thought we were together,” you murmured. “Everyone here knows I’m with Mark…”  

“Well, maybe they think we’d make a good couple.”  

Seb laughed at his own comment, and you shot him a death glare, though it didn’t last long as the corner of your lips curved into a smile.  

“Don’t start with that too.”  

“I’m just joking, Y/N,” Vettel said with a satisfied grin. “Besides, if people think we’re together and we get, I don’t know, good tables like this one,” he pointed at their spot, “and free pastries like the ones the bakery lady gave me near your house today, I wouldn’t mind pretending we’re a couple.”  

You rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the flicker of warmth that bloomed inside you as you imagined a hypothetical situation where you and Seb were together, where you shared more than just friendship.  

“Well, I think it’s time we have a slightly more serious conversation, so no boyfriends, exes, or fake relationships,” you said as you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table. “What’s the plan for this year? Do you think you can win the championship?”  

“That’s the goal, my dear," he chuckled, pouring himself a glass of water and taking a sip. “For now, I think the car is good, and we have a strong team, but you know how things can go…”  

“The important thing is that you have what it takes, Seb: talent and ambition.”  

He smiled, a little shy at your compliment, and adjusted himself in his seat.  

“So, you better be ready to put up with me every time you win,” you continued playfully.  

“Only if you ditch Mark so we can celebrate properly.”  

Sebastian immediately realized he might have messed up with that comment.  

You, instead of responding, did your best to force a smile and act like you hadn’t heard what the German had just said.  

“By the way…” the driver spoke carefully, knowing he might be treading on dangerous ground. “When are we going to plan something? I came here, but you know… plans like we used to make when we were at Toro Rosso and before you started dating Mark…”  

You didn’t know what to say. You hesitated before answering, thinking about how things had changed since you were single and he was in a relationship with Hanna, who had always been wonderful to you and never minded Sebastian and you hanging out together. She had even tagged along on some of their outings, something that made you feel terribly guilty but, at the same time, too bad to refuse given how kind both of them were to you.  

“I don’t know, Seb. Things are… complicated, different… It’s nothing you don’t already know.”  

It’s obvious there are things Seb doesn’t know. Don’t fool yourself.  

“Well, we’ll come up with something,” he replied, trying to believe his own words. “We could go out after a race, grab something to eat… Or, I don’t know, during the summer break I could take you to the karting track where I used to go as a kid and see Michael…”  

You couldn’t keep listening because it hurt. The idea of doing such personal and meaningful things with Sebastian was difficult to process, especially considering you were dating Mark, and no matter how much you tried to talk to him about it, he wouldn’t take it well. You didn’t deserve that kind of attention, even though it was the only way someone had ever shown her… affection, love, or any of its variations. Mark had barely paid you any attention since you started dating, something you had noticed in other couples but had never experienced yourself.  

Seb kept talking, but the sound of your phone ringing, a childish melody set by his sister Louisa, snapped you back to reality.  

Your heart clenched when you saw Mark’s name on the screen.  

Your stomach twisted, anxiety creeping in, the weight of everything you hadn’t told anyone, not even Seb, suddenly pressing down on you again, returning in full force as if it had never left, not even when Webber seemed to have forgotten about you.  

“Are you going to answer?” Seb asked, tilting his head slightly as he noticed how doubtful you were.

You didn't move. You couldn't. You weren't ready to face a call from your boyfriend after weeks of not hearing from him, especially not in the situation you were in.

And even less so considering who you were spending time with at that moment, and how stubborn Mark had been about your relationship with Sebastian ever since you started dating, even knowing that you were, in reality, just very good friends.

“It’s just… It’s Mark,” was all you could whisper.

“And are you just going to let it ring? Come on, Y/N, he’s your boyfriend. It’s not like he’s going to kill you if you answer.”

“I’ll call him when we get home,” you swallowed hard, feeling your hands starting to sweat.

“Y/N,” Seb said, sounding more authoritative than he would have liked. “It’s just a call. What’s the worst that could happen?”

If only you knew...

“Come on, Y/N, pick it up. If he's calling, it must be important.”

Your fingers trembled slightly until you finally decided to press the answer button.

You forced a smile, even though the only thing you wanted to do at that moment was cry and tell Sebastian the whole truth. Instead, you put the phone to your ear and answered, trying your best to keep your voice steady.

“Hello, Mark…”

“Damn, it’s about time you answered. Do you mind telling me where you are? I’ve been trying to reach you for days and days, and you’ve just ignored me.”

It’s a lie, Y/N. He hasn’t called. He’s manipulating you because, once again, he’s forgotten about you...

“I’m out,” you replied, controlling everything you said while looking at Seb, who had started talking with Matthias. “I’m having dinner.”

“And who exactly are you with?” Mark asked disparagingly, totally suspicious of you.

You gripped the phone tightly and opened your mouth to respond with the first excuse that came to your mind. But before you could, Matthias started talking too loudly with your companion:

“You’re such a gentleman with our Y/N, Sebastian! Are you sure you’re just friends?”

“Just friends, Matthias, really,” Seb replied cheerfully, although alert to you, who seemed terrified.

“Sebastian? What exact Sebastian, Y/N?”

Your blood ran cold when you heard the aggressive tone Mark was using on the other end of the phone.

“Mark, it’s not what you think…”

“Who the fuck are you with, Y/N?” Mark exploded. Even Sebastian and Matthias, who were still talking, seemed to hear the yelling coming from the phone. “Are you with Sebastian Vettel? Is it the Sebastian Vettel I’m imagining?”

“Mark, please, let me explain…”

“Explain what?” the Australian's voice started getting louder and angrier. “That you went out to dinner with him as if that was the most normal thing in the world?”

Seb, noticing the sudden change in you, both in your mood and body language, became alert. He turned his attention back to the waiter, this time giving an excuse after he placed all the plates on their table so that he could leave and give you some privacy.

Your tense posture and the fact that you became so silent, just listening to what his teammate was saying on the other side of the line, didn’t go unnoticed by him, and he knew there was more between them than what his friend wanted him to know.

“Take good care of her, Sebastian. Y/N deserves the best.”

Seb smiled kindly at Matthias’s words, and his eyes followed him until he was far enough away. His eyes then returned to you.

Something wasn’t right, and it was creating a feeling of internal rage in Seb that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Mark, I’ll call you when I get home, okay? I don’t want…”

“So you’re with him, right?” the Australian spat, not letting her finish. “Sebastian Vettel... Out of all the damn people you could be with, you’re with him…”

“Mark, please… Let me explain…” You started, your words already bordering on pleading.

“Think about the kind of girlfriend you are, Y/N,” his voice, though calm now, you knew he was about to start throwing poisoned darts that would torment you in the weeks to come. “While I’m busting my ass working, training, doing everything I can to move the damn team forward, you’re out there with the guy you claim is your best friend, going on dates. How would you feel if it were the other way around, Y/N?”

“It’s not what you think,” you whispered, unable to control the tremor in your voice.

“Oh really? Then what is it? Because to me, it looks like you're acting with another man the way you should be acting with your boyfriend. How do you think that makes me feel, huh?”

Don’t believe his words, Y/N... He’s trying to convince himself that it’s your fault just because he’s ignored you for almost a month...

“Mark, he’s my best friend, and you’ve known that since before we started dating. I haven’t hidden it from you, just like I’m not hiding anything from you now.”

Sebastian, paying close attention to every word from you, felt his heart drop at what you had said, especially the tone you used.

You mattered to Sebastian, just as he mattered to you.

“I wouldn’t take a girl to the city I grew up in if she was just my best friend, leaving my girlfriend feeling like second best, but hey, to each their own…”

You sighed, unable to stop looking at Seb, hurt by the words Mark had just said, even though you convinced yourself, despite knowing you were lying to yourself, that the Australian cared about you enough to consider you a girlfriend.

Oh my God, Y/N, you haven’t even met his parents yet…

“You’re being unfair,” was all you could say.

“No, if anyone’s being unfair here, it’s you, Y/N,” replied Mark. “You’re selfish, and you think of no one but yourself.”

“I don’t want to keep talking about this, Mark…”

“Of course you don’t. Because you don’t want Seb to know what you’re really like,” Webber said harshly. “Maybe I should tell him myself. Do you think he’d believe me? Would he still want a bitch like you if he knew the real you?”

Your stomach dropped at what Mark had just said. You didn’t know what to say; you didn’t know how to contradict him because you knew it was impossible to make him think otherwise.

The worst part? Sebastian’s face went completely pale, which made you worry even more about what your friend might now think of you.

Without saying anything else, and while you still faintly heard the Australian’s reproaches, you ended the call, throwing the phone harshly on the table and unable to control your hands, which were shaking more and more.

“Y/N…” Seb spoke, unsure of how to approach the conversation he wanted to have with you about what had just happened.

“It’s... It doesn’t matter,” you corrected yourself. The last thing you wanted was for that heated conversation you had had with Mark to ruin your time with Seb, especially your stay with the German. “Let’s eat and let everything else rest, okay? I’ve been planning this for weeks, and I don’t want to ruin it because of a conversation that never should have happened.”

Seb didn’t seem entirely convinced by your words, and even less by your attitude. He knew you were broken inside at that moment, and nothing hurt him more than knowing he didn’t know how to help you.

“Y/N, if something’s wrong... you can tell me. You know that, right?”

You tried to force a smile again, but it was impossible. Instead, tears began to fall from your eyes, and no matter how hard you tried to control them, you couldn’t.

“It’s okay, Seb, it’s nothing. I swear.”

Lie to yourself if you want, but don’t lie to him.

“Really, Y/N... No matter what you need or when you need it, I’ll be here... You’re not alone, Y/N, okay? Come what may.”

You looked at your hands, now in Seb’s. His thumb was calmly rubbing over them, something Seb knew perfectly well relaxed you when you had anxiety, like now, when you felt on the edge of a panic attack; or at least, that’s what the constant feeling of suffocation you couldn’t shake off told you, no matter how hard you tried to control your breathing and especially promise yourself that everything would be fine.

Don’t be so dramatic, Y/N, Mark’s voice echoed in your head in such a scene, making you pull your hands from the table and hide them beneath it, embarrassed.

Sebastian sighed, knowing he wouldn’t stop trying to help you, no matter how reluctant you were. If you wanted to end the contact, so be it, but that didn’t mean he’d stop trying to make sure you were okay.

“I mean it, Y/N,” the guy insisted. “Whatever it is you’re going through, you don’t have to do it alone. You’re my best friend, and best friends are there to support each other. Just like you’re doing now, with me, with Hanna,” he added.

You looked up at him again, and your chest tightened. How could he be so noble with you? How was he able to say the words you needed to hear at every moment? With Mark, you felt small, as if you didn’t matter at all, but Seb... he made you feel like a princess straight out of a fairy tale, whose ending was still to be written.

“Thank you, Seb,” you murmured, unable to take your eyes off those blue eyes that so relaxed you. “For… everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. That’s what friends are for.”

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that, unlike your boyfriend, if you even were, or ever had been, someone could care about you. You didn’t want to give your best friend false hopes, but the way he treated you, how it seemed like he cared...

Why did Seb make you feel like the most special person in the world when the person who was supposed to care about you the most didn’t even bother to try?

Sebastian Vettel knew you like the back of his hand, and that was exactly what scared you the most.

[luckymousey]

Thoughts about Ace's dream (parts 245-248) (mostly things I liked)

THEY FINALLY UPLOADED ACE’S DREAM BABYYYYYYYYYY

First of all, to be honest, when I first saw the snap in Tumblr I thought: wait, didn’t the Stitch event end already?🤨 and then I realized it was his dream.

Let’s start!

⚠️ English is not my first language, and there are spoilers⚠️

There might be some spelling mistakes

Cater filming everything with his phone through the whole ride, I just love how he’s still himself (Honestly, I feel that not a single student of Heartslabyul would feel dizzy because of the traveling, yk, they’re based off Alice in Wonderland, and Alice fell through a hole, I’m sure they would feel dizzy by others things, not something that’s similar to a roller coaster ride) and then he says: ah, but Grimmy was shouting too loudly and the wind is annoying, I need to put music to hide it 😔

I also love the fact that he takes photos of everything even knowing that the photos aren’t in his real phone (I hope they find a way to recover the photos for Cater)

When Sebek asked if Ace is from Sunset Savanna I was like: wait, weren’t they friends? How could he not know? And then I realized i had been looking at too many fanarts of the first year gang *slaps forehead*

Honestly, I’m impressed by how much knowledge this guys have, when Deuce said that Ace lived near the capital of the Kingdom of Roses, Leona started talking about how it was not possible for them to have an ocean near (maybe I’m too dumb to know things like these, maybe not)

Grim getting disappointed that it was a dream, he really wanted to have holidays the 365 days of the year 😂 (my baby son is so cute)

Cater saying that he knew skateboarding and surfing, I don’t know, I just LOVED that fact, even more, I’ve a headcanon of the TWST actor AU I wrote some time ago that says that both Leona and Cater use their brooms like surfboards while filming because they go surfing together during summer.

I love that we got to know more about Cater

Idia’s comment right after Cater explained why he liked those hobbies, he’s like a narrator inside the book, but instead of talking to the public, he talks to himself

AND RIGHT AFTER THAT HIS OWN BROTHER SNITCHES ON HIM, HAHAHA, I just couldn’t stop myself from laughing when he said Idia also made himself a small boat (the video I saw was in Spanish and it said “barca”, which means boat in English, I’m not sure if the game referred it as a literal boat tho)

And Idia’s wish? Riding a shopping cart through a home goods store? I also wish for that, Idia, a lot of people wish doing that, you’re not alone, my man.

When Idia got scared because Cater reminded him of the time when he kidnapped Riddle and others with a smile, he just started stuttering, so cute (his actions weren’t cute tho)

ACE MAKES HIS APPEARANCE, YES BABYYYYYYYY (I love him so much 😭)

Idk why, but I just love when the characters shout at people, like calling them from afar, and Ace nailed it

It seems like the Lilo and Stitch event doesn’t happen in the original timeline, because everyone was so surprised (even Yuu has the option to make a comment about his shirt or his sunglasses)

Honestly, I never, EVER, thought about the fruit that was on Ace’s shoulder until Grim pointed it out, I swear to you all that I started laughing once I imagined someone having to walk with those and couldn’t stop until I remembered I still had to watch the episode (and now I got another headcanon for the actor AU 😈)

AND NOW RIDDLE APPEARSSSSSS

I loved when he went like: “don’t overdo it, got it, Ace?” And then everyone was like: “YOU ARE ALREADY OVERDOING IT!” I think they thought Ace’s imagination was too powerful

When Cater pointed out that Riddle was showing his bellybutton, it reminded me of that meme of: SHOW US YOUR ANKLE, SHOW US YOUR ANKLE (we’re talking about Riddle here, I wouldn’t be surprised if he got flustered about naked skin)

I realized that Riddle is kind of naive, because he says: “Ace told me this was a formal attire for an island” and he just did as he was told, my poor boy, one day, you’re getting pranked

And then he slowly approaches Cater and whispers (which made him look sooooo cute) him if he looks weird (NO MY BABY, YOU DON’T, 10 OUT OF 10, YOU’RE SLAYING MY QUEEN), HE LOOKED LIKE A BABY ASKING HIS OLDER BROTHER FOR ADVICES

Considering both Silver and Sebek are in the same club as Riddle (in one of Ruggie’s cards, Sebek even got punished by him while doing club activities) their surprise is understandable

One thing I didn’t really like is that we didn’t get to see fake!Trey or fake!Cater wearing new outfits 🥹

I know they all wear makeup, but for someone reason my eyes couldn’t stop looking at their eyes, they are all so fucking gorgeous, ugh

Honestly, does someone here knows if Cater is rich or not? Because they also mention that Cater was the one who rented the private island (I know it’s a dream, but who knows) maybe it’s because of his father’s job?

And Cater immediately getting into his role, he knows what he’s doing, he’s so smart, I love him.

When Ace suggests getting changed because he doesn’t like seeing the school uniform Leona said (I’m not quoting from the game): “we’re BUSY” I felt it was more like: “I want to get over this bullshit and take a nap”

THE WAY ACE WAS SMILING WHEN HE ANNOUNCED THE REASON OF THE CELEBRATION, that is the same smile he has when something good happens to him, but knowing what’s going to happen next, I just couldn’t help it🥲

I also realized how much I like when a lot of characters shout at the same time, it’s nice to hear

The part where Ace denied when Trey said how they would get sad talking about Yuu leaving, I know you’re just a tsundere, accept it, Trappola I’m still not prepared for that part

In the video Idia says: “I could be hit by a extroverted lighting” I’m just loving everyhting Idia says

I got sad when Ortho said there was no point in attacking him, I wanted to see Ace getting bullied (don’t hate on me, it’s just karma doing its job)

I would’ve loved if Jack and Epel were there too

Ace was talking like a salesman: “we got pink shirt here, and then a yellow one, and then a blue one” I just can’t with him 😂

We can’t see what is really happening between the characters (like, two characters could be hugging but we aren’t able to see it because this is not an anime, yet) but I believe Grim took Ace by his hair, pulled it and shouted in his ear to make him clear they were in a dream, YOU’RE DOING GREAT BABY, SHOW HIM WHO THE REAL BOSS IS

Aaaaand, we made it until here, no matter how many times I say it, I’m not prepared to reach that part

[jayhyunglover]

I just realized that every LADS men is based on elements

Sylus

Underworld and darkness.... which actually balance with this rival thing going on with Xavier .

Even in his myth man gir imprisoned in an Abyss , in current timeline he kinda rule over the N019 zone that considered like a place that sunlight never reach , hence underworld and darkness.

Zayne

Cold mountains ... we all know Zayne evol is ice and in both of his myths he lived in the mountain.

In Foreeser myth, the tower of thorns was perched high on cold mountains.

In master of fate one too , Zayne lived in cold mountains.

Rafayel

Deep sea.... but also fire .

Rafayel evol is fire but he's also the ruler of the deep sea (which I am sure is cold asf) .

When I first got into Love and deep space fandom I thought his evol would be water manipulation but I was surprised it was fire .

I feel like Rafayel character is not only based on water but rather balance between fire and water. This makes me think he also has to find balance between his love for MC and his desire to restore his homeland.

Xavier

Xavier's one is light .

My first impression of Xavier was that I thought he looked like if the moon and the stars had a baby .

Even in his appearance, his color palette, Xavier kinda represents purity and hope with the white , silver and blue color (but my man is far from pure ) wich contrast a lot with Sylus because he's considered tainted and impure . (The parallel between those 2 are crazy) . And also light is often considered as pure, Godly even unlike the darkness.

And also since stars live out for long that would explain Xavier's age . Same with Rafayel, water last long but it constantly change form (it evaporates , solidifies and liquefies just like Rafayel who dies and reborn over and over )

Caleb

Caleb is based on the sky (I might be also wrong about this one because we don't know anything about his past life yet) .

But if you look at his background

Aerospace aviation graduate

Gravity evol (that can hold you down or lift you up )

Living in Skyhaven (that are literally island lifted up in the air)

But there seems to be Adam and Eve lore behind his story but I have feeling that Caleb is Eve .

He's the only who eat apples

He's the one who made deal with Ever (probably the snake)

So he's either Eve or the snake himself trying to corrupt MC (even if after reading his myth I realized MC might be worse than him )

Well that's all. Those are just my speculations. I actually love Lads lore so much I could spend hours talking about it but nobody would listen to me so 🤷🏽‍♀️ I post about it here