#don’t grow up too fast kid it’s NOT worth it

[chisubi]

from the lovers’ grave — h. ran

content. fem!reader, one (1) suggestive scene near the end, something about grief, mourning, and love

word count. 10.7k

note. this was not meant to be long. originally, all i had planned was the scene with ran and rindō at the end talking and the confession scene for practice (i hate confessions) i am not sure what happened . . . also, this is unedited.

In the grand scheme of things, there were more good times than bad.

Of course, there’s no denying that during their teenage years of growing up, at some point, things have been deteriorating. Spiraling and spiraling and sprialing. They were just boys being boys, doing the only things they knew how to do, fighting and surviving; those moments were full of fun, exhilarating, a temporary bliss in this little corner of the world of theirs.

However, boys like them don’t live for long. They aren’t meant to. Just like how the saying goes: live fast, die young. Ran supposes the saying is true. Many of the people he’d known died before reaching adulthood, just like him — Kurokawa Izana. That’s just life, after all.

His funeral is a simple one. Nothing grand, and rather than how plain it is, it is more surprising how someone without a family – an orphan – is able to have a proper funeral. People like them never have one, forgotten by everyone and everything. And the one who stays forgotten by the world is Izana [to no one’s surprise], except for the few remaining members of the S-62 generation. Multiple police officers that keep a keen eye on all of them, and none of them are stupid enough to try and escape on a day like this — their bond with Izana is worth much more than that. It wasn’t something so shallow.

There are no decorations besides the white chrysanthemums and white lilies sitting in front of an old picture of him — a picture of when he first was admitted into juvenile detention all those years ago, he looked so young, his eyes were the same then as they are now. Dead. No sign of light. His cold body lies in a plain wooden casket. It’s an empty, stifling ceremony.

Shion is uncharacteristically quiet, and that alone would’ve been an insane sight if it were another day, but everyone understands his silence today. Nobody mentions it. Nobody says anything at all. It’s so silent, each breath drawn echoes, and something feels extremely off about the ceremony — something that has Ran glancing around the room every couple of minutes.

An obvious reason for this is how Kakuchō is not here; that kid would never miss this for anything, everyone knows this, and Ran can assume what happened. His injuries must be quite severe, and it’s rather a miracle that he had woken up, heck, even much earlier than the doctor’s expected. A sign of God’s mercy (and for a moment, in that cramped cell, Ran is a believer of faith). If Kakuchō is still awake, there’s no doubt he would be longfully staring out that white hospital room. Those cold, sad eyes of his watching the way the snow falls, burying the world.

And the other reason is how at the front of this cramped room, right next to the casket, sits a girl Ran has never seen before. It's alarming. Your head stays down as you only look at Izana, you haven’t bothered to look up since they have entered the room earlier. Ran can’t help, but wonder who you are. Who you are to Izana. An outsider to the S-62 generation that Izana had built from cold, scarred hands for delinquents like him. Ran wants to know so badly, but he is too tired, and now isn’t the time to focus on people he doesn’t know nor cares about.

Ran slips the singular white flower into Izana’s folded hands, all stiff, scarred, and freezing cold. A body of a dead man. He decides to place another: Kakuchō’s offering. Perhaps, that kid’s prayers would reach him, his heart has always been more pure than all of theirs combined, a softer soul trapped within this cruel world. Ran doesn't know why, but he whispers to Izana that he is sorry (he doesn’t know for what — maybe, everything), yet his eyes dwell on you.

When you turn and catch his curious eyes, he doesn’t look away; neither do you. Attempting to smile, it’s almost as if he’s looking straight into a mirror; a shiver runs down his spine.

He smiles back.

—

August tastes like cigarettes and bitter cherries. Just like it had last year in February, when blood, bones and ash had fallen and scattered around Yokohama that cold night, moments before the snow began to fall down. Gradients of whites and reds painting the town.

It’s a rather cool evening for a summer day when Ran finds himself visiting Yokohama after so long (even after his release, which had been quite some time ago, he hasn’t stepped foot here). There’s melancholy lingering in the air, much like how it always clings onto to long summer nights. Ran welcomes this, allowing his feet to lead him. Anywhere, everywhere, or nowhere at all. He just walks down the bustling streets, endlessly.

Something feels strange. . . Something is going to change this summer, something big; the unexpected always comes to people like him.

Downtown, there's a small bar that catches his eye. There's nothing too special about the shop — decorated with tacky neon flickering signs. Open, reflecting within his eyes. There's something inside of him that tells him he needs to enter, and so, he does just that.

And that feeling of his comes true within minutes. Ran sees you again. Coincidentally [or perhaps, fate, or by total chance].

The Izakaya isn’t really filled with people; either due to it still being early, since work hours are still going on or it just isn’t popular among the many identical shops along this street. And he should’ve invited Rindō to come with him; who enters and eats at an Izakaya alone? Ran has never gone out to eat or drink alone before, either way, it’s not like he’s a kid, so it doesn’t really matter that much, but he knows Rindō will be bitching to him about going out to eat alone. Well, that’s something he’ll have to deal with later.

Ran sits down at a table for two; ordering a small plate of yakitori and umeshu, something sweet and cold to drink. A waitress comes over and places his food down, his eyes widening at a familiar face, he speaks before he thinks, “Do you remember me?”

Your brows draw together, you look him up and down, then shake your head. “I. . . I am not too sure. I don’t believe so. Have we met before?”

He pauses. Disappointment swirls in his stomach, sinking. He tries not to think about why it makes him feel that way — like, disappointment is normal, but he knows he’s not someone unforgettable. “No. I must’ve been mistaken. Sorry ‘bout that.” He offers you a polite smile and that’s when he sees your eyes widen in recognition, the bar’s yellow lights flickering in yours; shining, shining, shining.

His finger glides against the rim of the glass cup, as he waits for you to speak — he knows you will say something. The ice cube clinks against the glass.

Clink. . . clink. . . clink.

“Oh—! Wait, um, you’re from the funeral. . .?” Uncertain as you carefully utter those words, he confirms this, and your eyes brighten. “Oh, hold on. Sorry, I can’t really talk right now, but my shift ends in twenty minutes,” you drift off, eyes darting toward the old big clock that hangs on the wall. You hopefully ask, “Wait for me?”

He nods. “Yeah, sure,” Ran casually says, ”take your time.” You thank him with a smile.

[Twenty minutes turn into fourty, and for some reason, he stays and waits for you. The yakitori was worth it, anyway. He’s grown to appreciate the taste of plums a little more today, too. It’s sweet.]

The both of you don’t say much tonight. Only indulging in introductions and small talk. The pier isn’t so far from the Izakaya, barely a ten minute walk away. When the two of you sit on the ledge, close yet not close enough to be touching, it’s all silent. Not a comforting one — one where the air feels thicker and there’s this itch where he feels as if he needs to say something to break this awkward tension. Curiously silent, because Ran has a lot of things to say — things he needs to know, but that can wait for another day.

“It’s a little breezy tonight,” you attempt to break the silence. He can tell there’s a lot on your mind, too, but you probably won’t say anything either. Not tonight, at least.

He offers, “Would you like my cardigan?”

You shake your head, declining. “No, but thank you. You might get cold without it.”

Relief runs over him when you decline because he is cold, he tends to get cold easily (which is something he and Rindō argue about because Rindō always, always, always turns the heat down in their apartment because he gets hot easily, even though Ran tells him not to touch it), and doesn’t like sharing his clothes or anything he owns with anyone. But Ran is a gentleman, or so he tries to be, girls feel special when he acts like this, and he likes making them think that. Well, sometimes he does. Sometimes, he doesn’t know.

“If you say so. That was my one and only offer so don’t complain after,” he halfheartedly teases (he still thinks you should’ve accepted it, because anyone would’ve if he was the one offering, but that’s your loss, really).

Maybe the way he was joking misses, because you simply reply, “I won’t.” And he hums. Silence falls over again.

“He was such an idiot,” your voice is anything but harsh when you say this. So soft, fond, a whisper of love. Too angelic, Ran is sure it will never reach him. He almost misses your words under the waves, too.

He doesn’t know who you are to Izana. A part of him understands, though. No matter what you two were or who you are, he knows you have loved Izana so dearly, you probably have for a long time. It’s quite obvious, the feeling of him that lingers onto you — he can feel it all.

His fists tightens around nothing, nail digging into his palm. How come he has never seen or heard of you before? Ran knows for a fact that Kakuchō knows you. Does Shion as well? He’s obsessed with Izana, obsessed to an unhealthy degree, so surely he knows or at least has caught a glimpse of you before. Maybe he really didn’t know Izana at all.

It’s kind of frustrating, he thinks.

Ran agrees with you. Though, he doesn’t verbally express it. Izana really was an idiot, a selfish one who was always stuck in his own head, and Ran would never get to tell him that. He’ll never get to tell him anything again. Bitterness, regret, and anger fill him for a split second, only a second, not a millisecond longer, because these emotions quickly fade back into nothing. Nothing because Ran can do nothing, but feel nothing.

“Do—Do you usually sit out here, doing nothing? Watching the world?” he sniffles. It’s summer, midsummer, heat is supposed to consume them, especially during these short nights, but the weather has been strange lately. He’s not even cold, it’s just when the breeze passes by, he gets bad shivers.

The flame of the lighter flickers, you’re lighting a cigarette — he didn’t peg you as a smoker (despite only knowing you for less than an hour at maximum), and he grimaces once he catches sight of a little pink box sliding back into your pocket. Pianissimo. Peach flavoured, of course, he almost snorts.

“Sometimes,” you reply as you breathe out the smoke. “We can go somewhere else if you want.”

You pass the cigarette to him, he accepts, saying, “Nah, it’s fine.” Your smeared lip gloss stains the tip of the cigarette, his lips overlap with the marking, inhaling the bitter smoke to feel that familiar burn, it’s quite mild compared to what he prefers, something sweet lingers within, too.

“Okay, but that was my one and only offer.”

Ran chuckles at the familiar remark, and you let one out, too. “Okay. I get it.” He passes back the cigarette. “A cheeky one, aren’t you?” It comes off more flirtatious than intended, but it makes you smile at him, cheekily.

You’re captured by the moonlit water, cigarette ashes drifting down, down, down, eyes taken by the ashes, his eyes drift back to you, and that sentimental expression you wear.

(Losing someone isn’t anything new. It’s normal in a world like this. He wonders if you know this; you definitely do.)

—

“You sure you don’t want to come?”

“I am sure,” you tell him, “it’s not even a party, it’s just a get together. Go have fun with your boys. Hasn’t it been a while since you’ve hung out like that?”

“Knowing them it will be a party instead,” Kakuchō replies with a short sigh. He has never been too fond of crowds and strangers. You wonder why he is so insistent on you joining, however you don’t ask. You tell him you are sure and want to stay home, before shoo-ing him out the door.

And despite your warnings [nagging, as Kakuchō likes to call it], when you go to see him the next day, you’re met with a hungover Kakuchō and two boys knocked out on his old, leather couch. One of them is barely hanging on, half of his body is dangling off, and you aren’t sure how he didn’t wake up from being uncomfortable. And the other, you are quick to recognise as Haitani Ran.

Kakuchō was indeed right. It’s always a party with the Haitani brothers, you’ve heard this from others before, too. You take a second glance at Kakuchō. Poor, poor, poor Kakuchō, who can barely open his eyes and stumbles his way towards you, more so to what you have in your hand, that glutton, you almost burst into giggles.

You greet him, asking him simple questions like: did you have fun last night? Too much fun, you guess. Are you hungry? And he’s replying to each one with nods and grunts and incoherent strings of ‘yeah’, ‘uh-huh’, and the most annoying one of all, ‘what’. Maybe, you both were too loud because the sound of shuffling behind catches yours and Kakuchō's attention. Both boys are awake — stuck in a similar state as Kakuchō — sets of tired purple eyes peering around the room as if they didn’t even realise they crashed at their younger friend’s place.

After a few seconds, Ran speaks up. “Oh. Good morning.” He doesn’t look too surprised seeing you. His hand ruffles through his wavy hair, smoothing out his bed head as he flashes you a grin. Ran has a pretty smile. He’s pretty first thing when he wakes up, and that alone makes you envious. It’s unfair.

“Hi, good morning,” your voice comes out a little quieter than you wish it had.

Ran is still smiling, as he repeats, “Good morning.” A slight pause as you smile, too. He cocks his head to the side, introducing the boy beside him. “My baby brother, Rinrin,” he lazily introduces.

“Don’t call me that,” the boy [Rinrin] grumbles as he turns to you and gives a slight nod, “Rindō.” Rindō, not Rinrin, bends down to sweep up a shirt from the floor, slipping it back on, covering his tattoo, long black ink that paints half his chest. Your eyes linger for a moment too long, before moving onto Ran, whom for some strange reason, you know to have the other half of that tattoo on his body. They look so different yet alike.

Ran raises an eyebrow, a grin tugging on his corner of his lip once he catches your lingering gaze. Like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. He mouths, ‘What?’, you turn your head away, feeling embarrassed. Your body heat rises to your neck, cheeks, and ears.

You can feel another set of eyes on you, not belonging to Ran, however you don’t look back up. You place the homemade bento on the counter, Kakuchō lets out a sigh, “Finally.” You roll your eyes at the boy.

“Sorry, I didn’t know Kakuchō would be having guests, so I only made enough for one person. . .”

You aren’t actually sorry. It’s just a little awkward. Kakuchō could’ve given you a heads up. It feels rude only bringing a meal enough for one when there’s a party of four (though, you didn’t plan on staying over after dropping off his food).

“Nah, it’s cool. We can share,” Ran says.

“No. Let’s order something else, too. I’m starving.” Rindō brings up. You all collectively agree with him because there’s no way the food you had brought is enough for the four of you.

Ran orders yakisoba and soda for all of you. Kakuchō loudly complains when he notices the two of them picking at the food you made for him, even with the yakisoba right there.

—

“So,” Ran begins.

You look up at him. “So?”

“Can I call you later?”

“For what?”

“To see you again,” he replies, “I have a feeling we’re going to keep running into each other.”

“That may be so.”

—

Haitani Ran was right. You do meet again and again and again. Sometimes he will get a call, lips pressing into a thin line, threatening to fall into a frown as he slips into another room for a few minutes before coming out to tell you that he has to go. He doesn’t say what, you don’t ask, but you know. It’s the same thing that has Kakuchō leaving his apartment in the middle of the night, too. You try not to think about it – acknowledge it – it has nothing to do with you.

He stops by from time to time, dropping by whenever he is in the neighbourhood, much like today. You’re no longer surprised when you open the door to be met with that charming smile of his, rather once you hear the familiar sound of knocking or ringing of the doorbell, you sort of expect it to be Ran.

“You play the guitar?” His line of gaze falls onto the acoustic guitar sitting in the corner of the living room.

“Hm? Oh no, that belongs to Izana.” Used to. A pause, before you add, “There was a time when I used to beg him to teach me and he gave up after an hour.”

Ran snorts as his lips curl up. “That’s a good job for you then. He would’ve given up on the guys in less than five minutes so you probably did okay, right?”

You laugh at his words. It’s the truth, because Izana has always been an impatient (impulsive) guy. “Maybe. Kakuchō was able to learn how to play it, and I remember being a little jealous of him because Izana seemed happy to have someone to talk about music with.”

You were jealous, upset, embarrassed at your lack of ability — you thought, maybe you just aren’t talented? You eventually came to terms with it. But there were moments when you would watch Izana and Kakuchō play their guitars (—Izana set money aside and bought a used guitar just for Kakuchō, you assume Kakuchō leaves it hidden away, far away from everyone and everything), the room fills with music and you would be sitting on the couch listening, listening, and listening until you’re slowly drifting asleep to their melodies.

You take a hollow breath.

“Those two have known each other since they were kids. . . Ah, you, as well, right?” he asks and you nod your head in confirmation.

“Yes, that’s right.”

Ran lifts his eyes to meet yours. Ever so purple, beautifully vibrant, like a gem, you’re afraid it could shatter. He smiles, softer, sadder. “I see. The three of you have a special bond then. Something others cannot replicate.”

Your heart races, then pangs at his words. Something special.

Yeah, it is special, you could never forget it. Even if you wanted to.

“Just like you and your brother. The charismatic brothers of Roppongi: the Haitani brothers,” you say, voice light with a small smirk on your lips. “I have heard some stories about you two.”

“Mhm, I bet you have. All good things, I assume?”

You tease, “Maybe, maybe not.”

He chuckles to himself. “So, good rumours,” he concludes with a satisfied look, “I am Haitani Ran, after all.” Definitely nothing good, you both know, or so, you assume Ran knows.

You agree, “That’s right, Mr. Haitani.”

He smirks at the name.

Ran doesn’t ask if it’s okay to touch the guitar, he just takes it, yet you can’t find yourself getting upset or complaining about it. You watch as he plops down onto the couch, patting the spot next to him, indicating you to come over, in which you do. “Ran, do you know how to play?”

He looks over at you and winks, “Oh, honey, that’s what you are about to find out. Keep your eyes on me.”

You roll your eyes.

It’s not even two minutes later, when you do find out, just like Ran had said. You learn he doesn’t know how to play at all. Ran plays the same tune over and over again, or he attempts to, it sounds nothing like the pretty way Izana plays. It’s clunky, off-tune, yet something about it feels tender. So, so gentle; your heart trembles along with the tune. Ran doesn’t seem to care about his lack of skills; lavender eyes softly gazed on the way his slender fingers move against the strings — a faint smile to his lips, rosy and glossy from your cherry lip balm you saw him put on earlier, as he plays Izana’s beloved acoustic guitar.

You remember Izana at this moment. The way he played all his favourite songs — how Bohemian Rhapsody and Under Pressure was played on repeat in his little apartment. How, on this very couch that you and Ran are sitting on, he used to get frustrated at how you couldn’t memorise or understand what he was teaching you (and in your defense, he sucks at teaching, definitely one of the only things he has ever sucked at), and you would cry at his frustration. Izana eventually gave up and instead learned to play your favourite song for you.

You wanted to learn it yourself, but you were so happy at the same time. It felt special. You felt special.

You remember, you remember, you close your eyes, and you remember it all. It dances to the memories every day, a little record stuck on repeat. It’s all you have left of him. What if one day your heart suddenly doesn’t remember?

“Falling asleep to my playing?” His voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

Opening your eyes, all you see is Ran in front of you.

You shake your head and smile at the sight, Ran catches it and flashes a pretty smile back, laughing beneath his breath as he attempts to show off by playing a series of random chords quickly. Giggling at his antics, you attempt to sing along; humming a random tune as the two of you try to match each other, clearly missing the beat. Soft laughter, light teasing, Ran playing the guitar and you singing along fills the room in your apartment. Your hearts dance along, ever so intimately. You feel light, so light, and you haven’t felt this way in a long time.

Maybe you could get used to this (perhaps, you already are).

“I don’t know anything about guitars or any instrument,” he admits, “maybe besides the recorder.” He looks disheartened at the fact as he stops playing and his fingernail taps against the wood, it echoes back.

“It’s okay, I am no good at it either. I also only know how to play the recorder,” only because it is mandatory to learn in primary school. “I am probably better than you at it, though.”

“Oh? Is that a challenge, young miss?”

“Maybe.”

“I guess we’ll have to find out,” he says. “Someday, of course.”

You nod. “Someday.”

—

Ran sleeps with you for the first time tonight. After dinner, he was too lazy, and your couch was too comfortable, so he didn’t want to leave, and you didn’t really seem to think of anything when you offered for him to stay the night. He didn’t think much of it when he agreed. It’s so innocent, yet more intimate than everything he has ever known. He feels. . . strange.

Your mattress is quite small, however Ran prefers it this way for obvious reasons. The dip in the mattress that allows you to get closer, he can feel your body heat so vividly, if he closed his eyes he could probably imagine it, except he doesn’t. He just stares at your bare face, who stares back at him.

“Your hair looks so pretty like this, Ran. I like it.” Your compliment makes him smile, it’s not often when someone witnesses his hair down, wavy and what he considers to be a mess. Your finger runs over the loose waves, twirling the end with your fingertip. He thinks you look pretty, too, in your pajamas, and bare faced.

You ask, “Can I braid your hair when we wake up tomorrow?”

“I like my hair a certain way.” He replied without much thought. He almost doesn’t notice that he didn’t necessarily reject the request.

You pout your lips, and give Ran your best puppy eyes — little gems are shooting out of your eyes towards him, but he is not one to fall for that. Do you think he’d be the type to fall for a cheap trick? If he were, he would’ve been screwed ages ago. You picked the wrong person for that. “Is that a no?”

He softly hums, debating to himself. “I am just—” he tries to think of the right word. He just hates when others touch his hair, his clothes, his jewelry, he spends so much time perfecting his appearance — he hates when others ruin it. “I rarely let Rindō touch my hair.” He decides to say this, because it’s something people can come to understand.

“I learn quickly. . .”

He sighs. Not one out of annoyance, more so at how he is so quick to give into your wishes. “Alright, fine. I will teach you how I like it done tomorrow.” You’re lucky that you’re cute, he almost adds.

He bites his tongue.

But he doesn’t know why. He says those types of things all the time. It’s a strange night. He’s been doing things he doesn’t do or say.

You lift your hand to his face, your pinky sticks out, “Promise?”

A pinky promise. Ran almost snorts — he would’ve if he weren’t so tired, if you didn’t look so cute and serious, and he would have laughed if it were someone else. Ran hasn’t pinky promised since he was a kid, barely eleven, promising something mundane to Rindō (the world, Roppongi, a new house, a new life, he remembers, he always will).

He softly sighs, sending you a sleepy smile as he locks your pinky with his. His thumb presses against yours, sealing the promise with a kiss. His eyes flicker down to your soft lips, you are grinning so happily over a mere pinky promise, what a simple thing bringing you happiness. “I promise.”

For a moment, he thinks he could give you something worth more than this little promise — pretty, shiny things that could make you smile even more. But he knows you aren’t someone like that. And that’s fine to him.

If braiding his hair makes you happy, for some weird reason, then he’s okay with it, too.

—

Ran awakens in the middle of the night, the room is coated in darkness, the moonlight shines through the crack of the curtain and that is how he knows it is still night time. He is not used to not sleeping in his own bed, he immediately notices your lack of presence, fingers tracing the empty surface, the side you had slept on is barely warm; you were still here not too long ago.

He slowly gets up, quietly walking down the hall to find you sitting curled up on the couch, on the side that is closest to the wall where Izana’s guitar rests. Unaware of him, his presence, and everything else in the world.

He lingers everywhere in your apartment, your home, your mind. It leaves Ran questioning: when you make a person your home, where do you go when they’re gone? Where do you go? Tell him.

He leans against the wall, asking, “You can’t sleep?”

Your body jolts. Your head snaps up, as you glance in his direction, and you shake your head, beginning to relax. “Oh, Ran. . . No, I was just getting some water.”

He hums, going along with your poorly webbed lie, your heart is exposed bare on your sleeve, so cold, lonely, he glances from the empty coffee table to the acoustic guitar to your unshed tears. You are seriously a terrible liar. That’s a good thing for him. “Do you mind the company?” He doesn’t want to intrude somewhere he doesn’t belong.

You shake your head once again, “No. Not at all.” You pat the spot next to you, and Ran moves from the wall to the spot next to you. You’re watching him silently, sinking back into the cushions.

“Are you thinking about him?”

You tilt your head towards him, sending a weak smile, unable to find the words for an answer that the both of you already knew.

“It’s okay. Sometimes, I still think about him, too.” He assures.

You ask, “You do?” You sound rather surprised, and he is also surprised by his own honesty.

“Yeah. He was. . .” Words die easily on his tongue as he struggles to find the right words to say. There’s not much he can say, despite all of the memories and feelings he once had. What can he even say about Izana? He can’t think of anything nice or normal that one would say about an acquaintance (friend, comrade, boss). “He was an interesting guy. I kinda admired him.”

He was an interesting guy, Ran had thought so their first meeting, years ago back in juvie. He was the only person that left a deep impression on him. Izana was many things. Anything, but a good man. He used to be a good boy (probably), once so long ago. Ran really did admire him, he wouldn’t have followed just anyone. He admired him to the point where he spent his entire youth following the boy.

“I did, too.” Barely heard even in this room containing only the two of you, it sounds a little bitter. Just a tad.

“Yeah, I’m sure he knows,” he says, leaning his head down to rest on top of yours. You breathe quietly next to him, all of the little noises can be heard in this silence. Your legs stretch out, dangling beside his.

It’s a long time before either of you speak. And then, you look up at him. There’s something glimmering in your eyes.

You tell him a story and then two more of your childhood. You laugh and tear up through them. He laughs, stays silent, and smiles as he tentatively listens to your every word. It’s his turn, you don’t ask him, but it’s only fair if he shares something personal with you; something he and only Rindō know. He wants you to know. He wants to tell you sides of him that he’s outgrown and sides that nobody knows. He tells you about the dog Rindō wants to adopt one day, you say you want to see it, but Ran tells you about how he doesn’t really want to have pets in his apartment (though, it’s sometimes hard to say no to Rindō). You tell him about the stray cat you used to feed a few months ago, and how you haven’t seen her in a few weeks. She’s probably fine, Ran tries to assure you, there’s a chance somebody had picked her up and adopted her. You hope so.

The two of you fall asleep on your couch, one far too small for him, curled up, and entangled together. He sleeps so soundly, the cotton of his shirt soaking up your silent tears.

[Ran believes — no, he knows that he visited you in a dream last night. He must’ve. You look so at peace.

The sun hits, orange light shining through the gaps of the curtains, and you look so at peace as you sleep, leg wrapped around his waist as you lay against his chest. His fingers run through your hair, carefully, not wanting to wake you. His index finger ghosts over your cheek and Ran freezes when you shift in your sleep, smiling when he realises you aren’t going to wake.

You must be a heavy sleeper. Or maybe, you’re having a sweet dream and aren’t ready to wake yet.

He admires you for minutes that seem to last forever. He comes to terms with the fact that he’s doomed, and decides he doesn’t want to think about it or you anymore, before drifting back to sleep.]

—

When morning hits (or rather afternoon), Ran stops to look at you before leaving. His hand lingers on the doorknob. “You’ll be okay?”

You nod. “. . . Should be,” you reply, smiling. “See you later, Ran, and thank you.”

His eyes are gazing down at you, his expression seemingly confused — conflicted, before his eyes soften, turning back into pretty little gems. His smile is so pretty. “I’ll call you,” he says.

It’s a promise.

—

It’s Wednesday, your afternoon lecture was cancelled due to the professor’s sudden family emergency, so you invited Kakuchō to hang out around Shibuya. Luckily, he didn’t have any of those meetings to attend. “Are you dating Haitani Ran?”

Your heart almost stops at hearing this.

“What—no, of course, not,” you reply — one far too quick, your voice raises and you hear Kakuchō scoff under his breath. You almost stop your tracks, instead you turn your head in his direction, narrowing your eyes, clearing your throat before asking, “Why are you asking me that?”

He shrugs, opting on not replying to your question, and you frown, pressing your lips into a thin line. When you lightly hit his shoulder, he sighs, giving into you. “You always hang out these days.”

What a ridiculous reason. “Is that so weird? You and I see each other almost daily,” you reason.

Another scoff escapes his lips as if you had just said the most insane thing in the world. He tells you, “I’ve seen him leave your apartment in the morning. More than once.”

“We didn’t sleep together,” you defensively reply. A growing sense of irritation quickly builds inside of you. “It’s nothing like that. I swear.”

“So, it’s nothing.”

“Well, you know. . .” You trail off, looking at the people fleeing in and out of the cafés and clothing shops. You don’t deny it. You don’t know if you should, yet it’s not really anything, maybe something. He’s your friend. Just like Kakuchō. Just like Izana.

He sighs before saying, “You look at him like how you did with Izana.”

You freeze.

Kakuchō steps stop the moment yours do.

You look at him like how you did with Izana. You grow cold from those words alone, your heart tightens by an old memory of Izana flashing by. Those words play on repeat with the memories.

Just like Izana.

You feel faint.

There’s a tap on your shoulder, you notice the guilt on his face. “Sorry, didn’t mean to make you upset. I won’t ask, you don’t gotta say anything. I get it.”

“No, don’t be sorry, I am not upset.” You aren’t upset, but you don’t know how you are feeling. You know you aren’t upset by his words, but your heart stings. You want to cry, but you don’t understand why. [You do, and this makes you feel like sobbing.]

“Okay, well, can I ask why Ran? Rindō is the cooler brother,” he says.

Why Ran. You don’t know this yourself. You just know you like being with Ran. His presence is comforting, he makes you feel less alone in moments you feel alone. You just like being with Ran. You just want to be around that person. It’s as simple as that.

You roll your eyes, jabbing a finger into his forearm, lightly pressing your nail into his muscle. “You only say that because he works out with you.”

He shrugs. “Yeah. That’s the manliest thing someone can do. And he drinks more than any guy I know, it’s kind of insane, and he will still show up to the meeting the next day.”

You grimace. You could never pull yourself out of bed if you were that hungover — and, well, you’re sure that Rindō is dragged and forced to go to these ‘meetings’. Probably. There’s no way it is solely dedication.

“Right. Don’t be drinking with him, got it?” You don’t need Kakuchō developing even more bad habits. Sometimes you can’t help, but nag, even if it doesn't really reach him (if you were Izana, it’d be a whole different case), always going in and out the other ear. “Kaku, are you doing okay these days?”

“I’m fine, but also, a little hungry.”

“Kakuchō.” You lower your voice in an attempt to sound more serious — threatening, maybe. Obviously, it doesn’t work because Kakuchō doesn’t reply or react in any way. “Come on now. Talk to me, I know it’s something.”

He sighs, his eyes don’t meet any part of you. He turns away, the long, faded scar running across his face becomes hidden. “It’s always like this. In the end, I am always the only one who ends up surviving.” You’d prefer bitterness, anger, or sadness – anything – over the empty feeling in his words. Your heart aches, you don’t want Kakuchō to leave you, too.

You don’t even want to imagine such a thing.

You want to hold him.

Your hand reaches out to grab him, so firm and all of his little scars and calluses are felt and seen. Kakuchō looks down at you the moment you touch him. He doesn’t pull away. “I am sorry to say this, I know you won’t want to hear it now, but I am grateful for that. I’d be sad if you weren’t here with me. You are my family, Kaku. Don’t forget that. So, please don’t say something so sad.”

And he’s quick to look away again, too.

He says, “. . . I’d be lonely without you, too.”

Your hand tightens around his. His hand is warm, like it always is, his body always runs hot, too hot, but he is still alive. You’re alive. “You could at least look at me when you say that.”

He grumbles something incomprehensible, you tilt in your head in confusion, “Hm? What was that?”

“I said, ‘what do you want to eat?’”

“Aren’t you being too shy? I guess you’re at that age now,” you continue to tease him, watching as the tip of his ears turn red. Kakuchō has never been good at voicing his own feelings, he speaks through his actions alone — through iron fists and undying loyalty — just like most of the men you have ever known. You grin at the reaction. “Hmm, well, how about we have okonomiyaki tonight? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

The three of you used to eat that quite often back then, Kakuchō would be the one who would always make it for you and Izana. You haven’t had it since then. You’re craving it like crazy now.

“Yeah, sounds good. Let’s find a place less crowded, though.”

He really is still the same. Just older now, maybe maturing and experiencing life in all the wrong ways. But he is still your Kakuchō.

You wonder if he thinks the same of you.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

And similar to Kakuchō, you’ve never been so fond of crowds, either. Arms linked, you walk to an old restaurant owned by a cute elderly couple. You tell him you love him (because you do, since back then and now and in the future), he almost pushes you away right then and there, you burst out in laughter.

Kakuchō sits in front of you, in the past he used to sit beside you, you assume maybe it’s because it’s easier to talk this way. A guess because you aren’t so sure. He accidentally makes an extra okonomiyaki the first round, a habit he cannot erase, you both know why, you don’t say anything. You take the extra okonomiyaki and eat it for him.

—

Ran believes that some things are meant to happen for a reason.

You and him.

Him and you.

He throws a party for his brother’s birthday as he does every single year. He only invites their friends who immediately invite other people they know as it always goes and the apartment is filled to a brim. Just like every year.

You arrive a little later than most people, due to work and having to get ready, and Ran immediately removes himself from a group of people surrounding him (a chorus of boo’s are thrown at him), and rushes over to you.

“Hey. You took a while.”

You’re all smiles around him already. “I had to shower and get ready first.”

“You still look pretty in your work uniform.”

You look up at him, pointedly. “And smell like alcohol and chicken and fish?”

Ran grins, “Not much different from here, yeah? I love eating chicken.”

You playfully shove him and his grin widens as he pulls you into the drunk dancing crowd.

When he makes eye contact with Rindō, who is DJing (like always), his brother is clever enough to change the music to keep the two of you close. Bodies are bumping into him and you, you’re really close and your hands are in the air, in your hair, and on him. People are too close, too loud, too intoxicating. He has to lean down every time you attempt to say something to him — a lot of it is just you singing — and your lips brush against the shell of his ear every time.

Every. Single. Time. Electricity jolts through him.

Hair is sticking to your forehead, face red and glowing from dancing, sweat, and the mixture of body heat; you’re stunning and all Ran can think of is how badly he wants to kiss you when you bite your lower lip when you meet his gaze once again.

He pulls you closer, and it happens within a second. You kiss him first. Lips briefly pressing against his, you’re quick to pull back before he can reciprocate, and you flash him a smile more blinding than these flickering neon lights. He pulls you back in for a proper kiss this time.

Admittedly, this is not your first kiss together. He had kissed you once before – barely a peck – one night when he had picked you up from work and drove you home. It can barely be called a kiss, but Ran would be lying if he said it didn’t cause a shock that ran through his entire body. Later that night, alone in his room, his thumb brushed over his lips and they still tingled with the feeling of you.

This kiss, unlike the previous brief and fleeting exchange, he can taste all of you. Openmouthed, desperate, and a little shameless, too (but he doubts anyone is actually paying attention). Your hands find their way to his hair — much like they always seem to do — and Ran sighs when your fingers run through, gently scratching the nape of his neck. You look up at him with a gleam in your eyes, and he swears he wants to undress you right then and there.

Except, he wouldn’t do that. Plus, a loud whistle and a familiar voice jerks him back to the present (reality). It takes so much in him to hold himself back, he has to physically pull himself away from you for a second. He turns and glares at the interruption — Shion. Obviously. That fucker.

“What?” he asks, slightly annoyed and amused at the boy’s fucked appearance.

Shion grin widens, face glowing with sweat, red eyes, high and drunk on whatever someone had snuck in. Someone sure is having a good time. “Just—‘m just enjoying the show,” he slurs as his eyes make their way behind him, to you.

Ran steps forward and places a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Shion wobbles with a faint touch. “Go sit down, Madarame. You’re gonna fall over.”

Shion ignores him, brushes past him, and asks you to dance. Ran groans, calling out his name, but Shion blocks out his voice and smiles at you.

So, sure, he and the boys have this thing of cockblocking each other for shits and giggles, but now was definitely not the time for that. He needs to learn how to read the room. Damn idiot. (This is probably Shion’s payback from the last party, and all the times before that, but Ran swears it’s funny when he does it.)

You look from Shion to him and Ran shrugs, as if a shrug is enough to let you know that it’s just Shion, so it’s fine if you wanna dance with him, or not. After a second, you accept his dance with a curt, “Sure.” And Shion smiles, wide with all teeth.

“Behave yourself,” he warns Shion before turning to you. “I am gonna get some water. I’ll leave you to it for a bit.”

Ran walks over to join Rindō at his DJ booth.

Rindō looks at him with a raised brow as he makes his way behind the booth. “You lost your girl to Shion,” Rindō loudly snorts.

“Just letting him be around a girl out of his league for once,” Ran jokingly replies, and they both laugh. “Change the song for me.”

The song switches to something more upbeat; everyone is spinning and jumping, you and Shion, too. He can barely hear his own thoughts through the loud vibrations of the bass. He and Rindō talk about nothing, and Ran lets Shion dance with you for two whole songs. Shion is an idiotic lunatic, especially when he’s drunk, but he’s not stupid enough to do something he knows he shouldn’t. His hands don’t leave your hands, rather, Ran thinks you’re making sure Shion doesn’t let go of your hands, so he doesn’t fall over. Ran thinks you might be too nice. He’s having a good time and so are you, so that’s all that matters. He likes watching you dance, even if it’s not with him.

At some point, he runs to the kitchen to get a cup of water, and when he returns to you, Shion is nowhere in sight. That boy never stays in one place for long.

“Sorry, Shion is an idiot,” he tells you as he offers you the cup in his hand, basically forcing it into your hand to drink.

You chug back the water, no doubt exhausted and dehydrated from all the dancing and sweaty bodies around you. “He’s a funny guy. I had fun.”

Ran gives you a skeptical look. “Guess so, but feel free to ignore him next time.”

You grin, “Really, Ran, he was nice!”

“I sure hope so.” He leans down as whispers against your ear, “My room?”

You nod.

And finally, you’re on top of him. Ran is laying on his back, propped up by his elbows as he watches you take off your top, far too slowly, because you like to tease, and Ran is an impatient man deep down. But in this moment, he lets you do your own thing, and watches, watches, admires your every subtle movement. The real thing is much better than his daydreams. Yes, in the moment, he almost thanked Buddha.

You lean down to kiss him. Rather soft and innocent compared to the way you shift on top of him, and the way your hand runs down between the two of you. He’s rather shameless, and doesn’t bother hiding the way you make him feel. There’s nothing greater than pleasure.

Your movements come to an abrupt stop, and Ran suddenly becomes more aware. For a moment, he thinks you must be teasing him once more — Ran doesn’t beg.

He asks, “You okay?”

You stay quiet, he can’t see your eyes, something is wrong.

“Hey, is there something wrong?” His hand is immediately searching for yours, unknowingly. You pull your hand away before he can reach it. You pull your hands together.

Your voice comes out too quiet. It shakes at the end.

“. . . I’m scared,” you admit.

Ran pauses, his expression drops and he’s quick to sit straight up, reaching over to grab your hand, pulling it into his. His thumb brushes against the back.

He pulls you in his arms, your head lays against his chest as he whispers, “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything.” He doesn’t need this. “It’s alright, don’t force yourself.”

“No, that’s not what I—” you’re cut off by a whine; your own cry.

He’s scared to death the moment you begin to sob. Full on sobbing, you’re choking, and he can’t calm you down. He’s frantically trying to speak to you, but his words are not reaching you.

He wants to know what’s wrong. He needs to know what he can do to help you. There’s nothing he can do, except hold you.

“I, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He frowns. Wrong. Your words alarm him. “There’s nothing wrong. It’s not wrong. Trust me.” He tells you, more firm than his usual tone with you. “You’re okay, baby.”

You shake your head. “It’s not.”

“It is.” He grabs the blanket beneath the two of you and wraps it around your naked figure.

You try to say you’re sorry — words don’t come out, but Ran knows you’re trying to apologise for something that only exists in your mind. There’s nothing wrong at all and he needs you to understand this.

“We’re okay, trust me. We’re more than okay.” He reassures as he holds you a little tighter when he feels your shaky form against him. “Don’t force yourself to do anything, yeah?” His voice drops to a comforting whisper, “Just breathe for me. You can do that.”

You cry into his chest for an hour. He says nothing, but strokes your hair and quietly calls your name from time to time.

After a long time, when your sniffles begin to slow and the party outside the door begins to die down, he asks, “Are you okay?”

“No,” you say, and leave it at that.

(You think Ran doesn’t understand, and you feel bad because you don’t know how to tell him how his sweetness and understanding and patience with you causes you to cry even more. He’s so sweet, it aches, and aches, and aches, but his arms around you bring comfort and security, and then, so do his lips.)

—

Leaves decay, autumn passes, and it’s almost Christmas. Snow fell greatly last night, piles and piles of snow pack up, and Rindō is dragged outside to play. Play as if he is some seven-year-old kid once again.

The three of you are outside their apartment complex, you’re rolling snow to make a snowman next to one that has already been made — probably by the family that lives on the first floor. They have two little kids — one boy and one girl. Rindō remembers bumping into them in a drunken state, and the mother looked at him in disappointment and disgust as she blocked him from her children (obviously, he wasn’t going to do anything, but he can’t exactly blame the woman, either), Rindō scoffed at her and stumbled his way upstairs.

He and Ran aren’t doing anything, just standing on the sidelines, lighting a cigarette, and watching you. When Ran passes him the cigarette, Rindō is quick to take notice of the difference in smell and taste. Since when did he start smoking another brand? Especially something like this. Still, he smokes it with him without complaint.

“So,” Rindō starts off, gaining his brother’s attention. “How are you?”

Ran’s face twists, he stares at his little brother strangely, as if he had grown another head. “Huh?”

Sure, it is a weird question, because no matter how close they seem (are), they don’t talk about feelings or anything like that, even if they are together almost 24/7. But Rindō just wants to know this time, he’s so curious, because something has changed about his brother. It’s noticeable in everything he does.

His eyes flicker from him to you. “You and her. The two of you are together now, or what’s going on?” Rindō is curious. He knows there’s something more going on, he’s no fool, and the way your eyes always seem to find each other basically screams it to his face. “Hasn’t it been a while?”

Ran shrugs, poker face, as always.

Rindō just lets out an ‘Ah’, and that’s that. There’s never much to say between them because they’ll just accept anything about each other without an explanation.

However, Ran continues speaking about it, much to his surprise. “I am actually fine with it, y’know.”

“Fine with what?” he asks.

“How there will always be a little part of her who loves Izana.” Ran says this so casually, Rindō’s mouth opens slightly, yet there’s nothing he can think to say so he shuts it and stares on ahead. “Even if he were still here. . . yeah, I’d be okay with it, too.”

Ran has always been complex in ways that nobody can understand, and when they finally think they do, he shows them that they never knew him at all. When he wants something, he’s quick to dive in and take it. He takes, takes, and takes. He’s quite cruel at times, it’s how he learned to survive.

(And Rindō learned that from him, too.)

If Izana were here, somewhere in another life, he knows you would still choose Ran — that’s probably what his brother is thinking. That cocky, confident smile tells all. And Ran is probably right about it, he always is, and he’s annoying about that fact, too.

Ran’s eyes have always been a shade darker than his. Yet, in this light, they seem to shine brighter than his.

“Ran!”

The both of them look up. You’re running over, there’s snow in your hair, frosting over. Your smile is bright, teeth showing, the snow around is sparkling. Ran’s smile is suddenly all soft.

“What?” Even his voice is all smiles, and internally, Rindō gags.

“Come here,” your hand pulls him along. Ran follows you like a dog.

And suddenly, it’s only the two of you in the world; moving slowly, kicking snow onto each other, pushing, running, hands never letting go. It’s pure, gentle, something so rare and hard to find, Rindō's heart shakes at the sight of Ran and you.

The idea of Ran and you.

He’s a little jealous, but he will never admit to something like that.

He thinks about taking a picture of Ran to show him how idiotic he looks, but in the end, he decides not to. Ran won’t see what he looks like in this light, unless, as cheesy as it sounds, through the reflection of your eyes.

—

January rolls around, the very first day of the year, and Yokohama’s seaside never seems to change. Dawn is blue, forever blue, you feel as if your soul is about to cry.

Ran had shown up at your apartment right before the hand of the clock struck midnight to no one’s surprise. Well, maybe, you were a little surprised. His brother was throwing a New Year’s party (one you had declined the invitation to), yet here Ran is with you. You ask why, to which he replies with, “I just wanted to see you.” And that is enough for you to let him inside.

The two of you attempt to stay up all night — that attempt is quick to fail, because you both become entangled in your bed, falling into slumber. And once your alarm sets off at five in the morning, you’re dragging Ran out of your bed, pulling his clothes off from your bedroom floor, and pushing him out the door. His hand in yours. You take him to your spot by the pier, almost jogging. It’s nearly six.

“Sleepyhead,” you eventually call out, glancing at the sleepy boy beside you. He could sleep anywhere, you think. It’s a fact known to everyone around him. “You are dozing off. You’ll miss the sunrise.”

After a few beats, your words register through his head. He lazily nods, almost as if he’s nodding off again. “If you don’t say anything, I think I really will pass out,” he mumbles back, voice groggy and deeper than usual from his sleepiness.

You ask, “What do you want me to say?”

“Anything.”

“Anything?”

“Mhm. . .”

You ponder for a moment, before asking, “Do you think people ever truly move on from their first love?”

This is enough to wake Ran up. The weight on your head is lifted, he shifts. “That’s heavy,” he breathes out.

“You said anything.”

It’s quiet for a moment before he gives you an answer.

“It depends on the person.” He turns his body to turn and look at you. “Why do you ask? Scared to move on or do you think you’ll never be able to?”

You don’t lift your gaze, settling on the waves below. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. You can feel his eyes on you and the smirk that is tugging on his lips, even though you know he is being serious with you. He wants to know. He needs to hear your answer. “I don’t know. . . Do you ever think about your first love?”

“Nah, I don’t think about things like that, sweetheart.”

“Liar. You could at least pretend and go along with me.” He smiles when you say this. You softly sigh, going along with his silence. “But fine. If you did think about those things, do you think you would eventually forget about them?”

Ran’s eyes flicker, violet hues staring deep into you, as he huffs a silent laugh — one that feels a little sad compared to his usual ones. “I think I would carry a part of them with me no matter how much time has passed.”

His words make you softly smile. And they feel a little sad, too. “I see. . . You are quite the romanticist,” you tease.

For some reason, you feel as if your teasing never seems to work against him, he remains as composed as he always is. He whispers, “Aren’t we all?”

It’s strange how easily Ran’s words bring comfort to you. In ways where you feel heard and seen even in darkness. Ran is always like that. There’s a part of you that will never forget Izana, not now or in another life. He will always be someone you love and cherish. Ran understands this — he understands you, never judging. You understand him, too, and that’s all that matters.

“Hey, Ran, can I ask you something?”

“You sure have a lot of questions today,” he says with both amusement and curiosity swimming in his tone. “Shoot. What else is running through that mind of yours?”

You open your mouth, then pause.

“Hm? What’s with the sudden hesitation? Is it something embarrassing?” he teasingly asks, nudging his shoulder against yours, prompting you to speak your mind. “You can tell me. Promise, I won’t laugh.”

You know he wouldn’t laugh at you — always with you. Never at you. You just can’t find the right words to say to him. [Or maybe the courage.]

“You know I don’t judge you.”

“You judge everyone, Ran.”

His smile drops, and his expression turns more serious than you would like. “Surely you know that you’re not everyone.” He asks, “You understand, don’t you?”

You quietly reply, “I know.”

“Then is it something bad?” His voice goes quiet, too.

“No, it’s just,” you deeply inhale, turning your head back to the sea, averting your gaze from those eyes that look at you so softly [tenderly, with his full adoration], it causes your heart to tighten every time. You fidget with the ends of your hair, exposing your nerves. Another short pause and then you breathe. “I think. . . I think I like you, Ran. Like, a lot, and it terrifies me. Maybe you don’t believe me—I would find it hard to believe, too, because of—”

“I believe you,” his reply comes immediately. Voice so clear among the waves and seagulls calling above. “I can tell. You make it quite obvious sometimes, it’s hard for me to ignore, y’know?”

You blink. “Oh. Um, is it really?” you meekly reply.

Ran hums and heat rises up to your ears in embarrassment. You don’t think you’re somebody who is that obvious. Your face no longer feels the coldness of winter brushing by, internally groaning. You guess it was obvious. The two of you kiss a lot, you’ve gone further than that on a few occasions, and he stays over at your apartment more often than not. It is obvious. But liking and loving someone are two completely different things. (Love. . .)

“I feel the same. But how I feel . . . it is probably too soon to say how I feel for you, so I will wait until you are sure you want this.” His hand brushes against yours — cold from the cement and winter air, pinky dragging across the back of your hand. “Not too long, though. My patience isn’t so gentlemanly.”

Your heart flutters, embarrassment shifting to shyness. I feel the same for you, too. You try to not burst out smiling, lightly biting down onto your lip. Your cheeks betray you. You can feel the heat rising against the wind.

“Oh? Is that what people call you now? I don’t recall you being that much of a gentleman.”

Ran scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Really now?” Beginning to mutter to himself about how he treats you so well, that he’s been born a gentleman — it’s engraved into the very depths of his soul. And to some degree, those words are true. Ran has been nothing but patient with you. Someone who is always there when you need it.

I will wait until you are sure you want this. You do want this, you want to be with him — with the person beside you now. You want us. “Me too,” you say as you gather more courage, leaning towards him a little, your hand rests on his shoulder as you stare straight into those pretty lavender eyes. “I am falling in love with you,” you say to him, more sure than before.

You don’t waver.

A second passes, a wave crashes.

“Mm, I missed what you said. Say it again for me, sweetheart,” he says with that signature smile to his soft, pink lips, “for me, please?”

His plea makes you roll your eyes. Ran loves attention — both good and bad. He loves pretty things and pretty words, even more when they hold something so precious and meaningful in them. I love you. I love you. I love you. I like you so, so much. I want to be with you, Ran. Ran, Ran, Ran — sweet words that have been whispered to him many times before in the past (and many more times in the future, including now).

You lean over, cherry lips brushing against his ear, as light as a feather. You whisper a confession. A heartfelt confession. The wind rushes by, his hair tickles your flushed cheek, and a sweet confession only for the two of you to know, drowned out by everything else in the world.

It’s just you and Ran.

Snow gently falls, your hand found itself in Ran’s, his fingers intertwined between yours. He doesn’t let go. You don’t let go. Even when the sun begins to rise over the blue horizon, not when you’re walking back to your apartment, not when Kakuchō and Rindō stop by later for dinner and Ran is doing nothing, but admiring you as you cook. Neither of you let go for a long, long time.

It’s just Ran and you.

[morningsharksworld]

Just confess already!!!

Hazard x Hopeless Romantic! Reader

A/N: This was going to be an oc x cannon fic but tbh I know some people feel like this for others and went WHY NOT

Summary: JUST TELL HIM ALREADY

You were nursing a cup of coffee at the dimly lit bar the Phreaks called their second home. The music was low, a rare lull in the usual chaos that followed the gang. Across the room, Hazard was playing darts, his sharp eyes focused on the target. Every so often, he’d crack a joke or smirk at something Boomslang said, his laugh echoing in the space.

You couldn’t stop staring, your heart doing that stupid fluttering thing it always did when he was near. But no matter how much you felt, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything.

“You’re pathetic, you know that?”

The sudden voice beside you made you jump, nearly spilling your coffee. You turned to see Boomslang leaning against the bar, her ever-present smirk firmly in place.

“Excuse me?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t play dumb” she said, gesturing toward Hazard with his drink. “You’ve been making goo-goo eyes at him for months. Hell, maybe even years. When are you gonna grow a spine and tell him?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Not you too.”

“Oh, definitely me” she said, sliding into the stool next to you. “And you’re lucky, ‘cause I’m the nicest one in this group. If Susie were here, she’d—”

“If Susie were here, she’d what?”

You flinched as Susie appeared out of nowhere, her boots clunking against the floor as she crossed her arms and gave you a pointed look. “Don’t stop on my account, Boom. Go ahead, finish the thought.”

Boomslang grinned. “She’d give you hell, obviously. Right, Susie?”

You felt Susie rolled her nonexistent eyes and turned her attention to you. “Look, we’re not trying to be jerks. But seriously, what’s stopping you? Hazard isn’t a mind reader.”

“He doesn’t need to be” you muttered, staring into your coffee. “It’s obvious he’s not interested.”

Susie snorted. “Are you kidding me? Do you know how many times he’s asked me if you’re okay when you’re not around? Or how often he gets distracted during missions ‘cause he’s worried about you?”

Boomslang chimed in, “Not to mention the fact that he’s actually tolerable when you’re around. That’s a miracle all on its own.”

You frowned, your heart pounding. “You’re exaggerating.”

“Am I?” Susie leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a serious tone. “Listen, I’ve been around enough people to know when someone’s holding back. Hazard’s got his issues, sure, but he cares about you. Probably more than he even realizes. You just have to give him a reason to admit it.”

You shook your head, your stomach twisting. “It’s not that simple.”

“Nothing worth having ever is” Boomslang said, clinking her glass against yours. “But you’re running out of time, sweetheart. Guys like Hazard don’t stick around forever.”

Susie nodded, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “I’m not saying he’s gonna disappear tomorrow, but life happens fast in our world. If you wait too long, you might lose your chance. And trust me, regret’s a bitch.”

You glanced back at Hazard. He was laughing now, leaning against the dartboard as another member of the crew tried (and failed) to beat his score. He looked so carefree in that moment, so alive.

“I don’t even know how I’d do it” you admitted quietly.

Boomslang grinned. “That’s the easy part. You walk up to him and say, ‘Hey, Hazard, I’m into you.’ Boom. Done.”

Susie smacked her arm. “Ignore her. Just… be honest. Tell him how you feel, no games, no excuses. If he feels the same, great. If he doesn’t… well, at least you’ll know, right?”

You swallowed hard, the weight of their words settling over you. They were right—you’d been holding back out of fear, but that fear wasn’t going to disappear on its own. If you didn’t take the risk, you’d never know what could have been.

“I’ll think about it” you said, your voice shaky but determined.

Boomslang raised her glass in a mock toast. “That’s all we’re asking for. Just don’t take too long, yeah?”

Susie hummed. “And if you chicken out, don’t worry—we’ll happily push you in his direction.”

You groaned, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “Thanks… I think.”

As they walked away, you took a deep breath, your eyes drifting back to Hazard. The fear was still there, but so was something else—hope.

Maybe, just maybe, it was time to take the leap.

The noise from the bar faded as you stepped out onto the balcony, the cool night air wrapping around you like a welcome reprieve. You sighed, leaning on the railing, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. This was the only quiet spot, far from the crowd—perfect for what you were about to do.

You pulled your jacket tighter around you, gathering the courage once more. You couldn’t keep pushing it aside—tonight had to be the night. You were tired of hiding your feelings, of pretending you didn’t care. Hazard deserved to know, no matter what came next.

Just as you were about to speak, the door creaked open behind you. You turned to see Hazard stepping out onto the balcony, his eyes scanning the space for a moment before settling on you.

“What’re you doin’ out here?” he asked, his tone casual but curious.

You shrugged, playing with the hem of your sleeve. “Needed some air. A lot of things have been… on my mind.”

Hazard’s brow furrowed slightly as he approached, his usual cool expression softening. “Ye a’right?”

You hesitated for a second, then let out a nervous laugh. “No, actually. I’ve been kinda of a mess.”

Hazard stepped closer, now standing beside you, his presence quiet but steady. “A mess? What’s got you in such a state?”

You sighed, turning to face him fully. “Look, I didn’t come out here to waste time. I needed to say something.”

Hazard’s sharp gaze sharpened. “Aye? What’s on your mind, then?”

You took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage you had left. “I’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while. And I can’t keep pretending anymore… I like you, Hazard. I like you more than I should...”

His lips twitched into a subtle smirk, and you could tell he wasn’t surprised—but it still made your nerves tangle. “Oh?” he murmured, his voice soft but with that familiar teasing edge.

“Yes” you continued, feeling more confident now that the words were out. “And… I don’t want to pretend it doesn’t mean anything anymore. I care about you, more than I should.”

Hazard’s smirk grew, but it wasn’t mocking—more like… intrigued. “You’ve been carryin’ this for a while, haven’t you?”

You nodded, unable to hide the blush rising in your cheeks. “Yes. And I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I—”

Before you could say more, Hazard took a step forward, closing the small distance between you. His expression softened, his gaze steady. “You should’ve told me sooner, then.”

Your breath hitched. “I was scared. What if I messed things up? or worse, what if you didn’t like me at all?”

Hazard chuckled softly, shaking his head. “You’re braver than most I’ve met, Ach, I've seen ye punch guys twice yer size Luv. But ye don’t need to worry ‘bout that.”

You frowned slightly, confused. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before locking eyes with you again. “I’ve known for a while now… I’ve been feelin’ the same.”

Your heart skipped, the weight of his words settling in. “What?”

Hazard gave you a small, amused smirk. “Aye, I’ve been feelin’ the same way ‘bout ye.”

For a moment, you were speechless. Your mind couldn’t process it.

“…You like me?” you whispered, disbelief washing over you.

“Aye” Hazard replied, his expression serious now, but with that familiar quiet confidence. “Just didn’t want to ruin what we had.”

You blinked, your mind reeling. You couldn’t believe it—he’d felt the same for so long, and yet, he’d never said a word. And now, here you were, finally hearing it from him, your face completely flushed.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in disbelief. “Do you have any idea the amount of nights I’ve stayed up thinking about you!? I mean I must look like a damn dog waiting for y—”

But before you could finish, Hazard stepped closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. He leaned in, cutting you off mid-rant with a soft, kiss on the lips—firm but tender, grounding and real.

Your eyes widened in surprise, but your breath caught in your throat, melting into the kiss. It was unlike anything you’d imagined—something more, something you hadn’t realized you needed.

He pulled back just slightly, his Scottish accent thick and warm as he murmured, “Now, does that feel like ruinin’ anythin’ to ye?”

You blinked, your heart fluttering wildly. No—this felt right. More than right. And you couldn’t help but smile, your hands gripping the edge of his jacket slightly.

“No… it doesn’t” you whispered, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest.

Hazard smirked again, leaning in just enough so his breath brushed against your ear. “Good. ‘Cause you’ve got me now, and I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

You felt a rush of relief—of certainty—that this wasn’t just a fleeting moment. This was real.

And finally, you let yourself believe it.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Jeff having his midlife crisis in FNAF into the pit

[katsu28]

through the years

pairing: lando norris x fewtrell!reader

summary: a few glimpses into lando's journey of being in love with his best friend's sister. (5.9k) see request here!

a/n: r is three years older than max and lando. this has been a work in progress for months and was truly so so fun to write <3

sixteen

Lando’s tucking his helmet back into its protective case when he hears someone say your name.

He straightens up like he’s been electrocuted, nearly hitting his head on the shelf above him at how fast he looks up. If he had ears like a dog, they’d be perked. 

His eyes land on you chatting with someone he doesn’t recognize, and his heart skips a beat in his chest.

See, Lando has a massive crush on you, probably since before he knew what a crush was. All he knows is that you’re a few years older, his best friend’s sister, and the most perfect person he’s ever known. He’s pretty sure he’d fallen in love with you the moment he met you at one of Max’s and his races. 

But at only sixteen (nearly seventeen) years old, did he even know what love felt like?

Not really, but if Lando was being completely honest, he imagines it was the same feeling he got whenever he climbed into a kart—thrilling, exciting, a little bit of fear that he might puke. 

He hasn’t seen you in a while though. You’ve been off at university for a year now, somewhere far off, but Max had said something (read: complained) about you being home for summer break.

Lando thinks he might be more happy about it than your own brother is. 

“Hey!” Lando calls, raising a hand in greeting. You lift your sunglasses at the sound of another voice, squinting in the bright sunlight to see who’s shouting at you now. When your eyes land on him, you smile, waving back. Lando grins, one that only grows bigger as you start to make your way over to him. 

“Looked good out there today, Lan. You’re getting pretty quick on the straights,” You say on approach.

He’s had a little bit of a growth spurt this past year, so he’s no longer craning his neck to look at you, but you’ve still got quite a bit of height on him as you reach out to ruffle his hair playfully. 

“Thanks! Have you, erm, have you been here the whole time?” Lando’s voice cracks at the end of his sentence, mortifying him, but luckily you don’t seem to notice. You’re too occupied looking around the track for something, or someone. 

“Nah, I just got here, like twenty minutes ago? Mum told me to give Max a lift home.” You shrug. Lando fights the urge to let out a relieved sigh. Thank god you weren’t here to see him nearly spin out into the gravel on the last corner. That would’ve been embarrassing. “Have you seen him, by the way? I need to wring his neck.” 

A surprised honk of laughter splutters from Lando’s mouth. “What did he do now?” 

“Little shit broke one of mum’s good dinner plates and blamed it on me! S’why I’m here playing chauffeur,” You sigh, shaking your head. “Grounded during summer holidays, can you believe it? I’m basically Max’s personal shuttle, so it looks like you’re going to be seeing quite a bit of me for a while. Nightmare, innit?” 

“Not really. It’d be nice to see you around more again.” 

“You’re sweet, Lan. The punishment might be worth it to see your cute face all the time.” You wink at him, pinching his cheek gently. 

He knows you don’t mean it in the way he wants you to mean it. You still see him as just your little brother’s best friend, still a kid. But he’s older now, more mature. His voice is starting to drop, and he’s going places in his racing career by this point. He wonders if you know he’s joining McLaren’s Young Driver Programme next year. He wonders if you’d be impressed by it. 

“Hang on. I’ve got to take this, it’s my mum. Probably demanding I stop off at the shops on the way home,” You sigh, holding up your buzzing phone. “Do me a favor, be a darling and go find my idiot brother, would you?” You answered the call before he could nod, walking a ways away to talk to your mum. 

Lando remains rooted in place, watching you pace back and forth. 

“What’re you looking at?” Max pops up next to him out of the blue, bumping his shoulder rather roughly. It doesn’t phase him though, because he’s used to Max’s antics at this point. 

Instead, he sighs. “D’you think she’d ever like me?” 

“Who?” 

Lando nods his head in your direction, looking rather wistful. Max follows his friend’s line of sight until his gaze lands on you, on the phone, looking less than pleased. 

“Are you fucking with me? Please tell me you’re fucking with me,” He asks, wrinkling his nose at Lando. Even though you’re three years older than him, Max was wildly overprotective over you. Lando shakes his head. He is most definitely serious. “Mate, that’s my sister.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“That’s disgusting.” 

Lando scoffs, giving Max a shove. “You’re disgusting.” 

“So you’re telling me that every time you’ve asked me where she’s been, what she’s been up to, it’s ‘cause you fancy her?” 

“Maybe. Yeah. I think she’s amazing.” 

“I’m gonna throw up. I’m actually going to throw up, oh my god.” 

“Don’t be dramatic.” Lando rolls his eyes, picking up his things. 

“You’re hot for my sister, how am I being dramatic? I think I’m being quite calm about this.” 

“It’s nothing, really. She probably won't ever see me as anything but a little kid.” 

“Oh, you never know. You’re getting bigger, mate. Stacking on the height, packing on the muscle.” He fakes two punches to Lando’s torso, grunting overdramatically when Lando pushes him away with another roll of his eyes. “Soon enough you won’t be able to keep the ladies off you, ya stud.” 

“Thanks? You do know we’re still talking about your sister, right?” 

“Oh. Right. Yeah, still gross.” 

“Oi, Max. Let’s go or mum’ll have my head if we don’t get home by dinner,” You grumble, reappearing behind Max and shoving him upside the head. Your gaze softens when it turns on Lando. “Bye, Lan. See you soon.”

Lando manages to get out a goodbye without his voice cracking again, thank god. He wants to go in for a hug, because part of him thinks it might lift your spirits, but knows Max would never let him hear the end of it. So he just settles for a slightly awkward wave before you turn on your heel and head for the car. 

Max rolls his eyes. Then he smiles deviously, pointing at your retreating figure with one hand and Lando with the other, before smashing them both together, all while making overexaggerated kissy noises. He seems to have forgotten his previous disgust quite easily. 

“Fuck off!” Lando hisses, flipping off his friend. 

“I’ll leave you behind, Maximillian!” You warn, not even turning around to threaten your brother. Max rolls his eyes again, but doesn't hesitate in hurrying after you so you won't leave him stranded at the track. 

Lando manages to catch your eye once as you’re pulling out of the car park and he waves again, trying but probably failing to stifle the goofy grin spreading across his face at the wave you gave him back. 

God, he’s so down bad for you. 

That year, however, the months went on, Lando found himself noticing that you came home less and less often, and not even for school breaks the following year. Max wouldn’t talk about it, but it was obvious it was somewhat of a sore subject, so Lando never pushed.

He’d always wondered what happened, but soon enough, his life became far too hectic to sit around thinking about all the what if’s and the why not’s. All he could do was hope you were doing okay. 

-------

twenty

It’s hard to believe Max is turning twenty-one.

So will Lando, later in the year, but for now he remains a very youthful looking twenty years old. 

Max invites a handful of people to a quiet dinner, nothing too flashy, nothing too fancy. Just a nice dinner with close friends and good food. His birthday sits right between race weeks, so Lando is fortunate enough to be able to carve out an evening for his best friend. 

Now he’s sitting at the end of a long table, sipping a lemon sparkling water as the first few of their friends start to trickle in. He’d arrived unfashionably early under the guise of offering to help Max iron out last minute details, set up, things like that.

In reality, the reason why he’d turned up so early was you. 

Lando doesn’t know if Max invited you, and if he did, he doesn’t know if you’d actually come. But on the off chance that you do choose to make an appearance, Lando wants to be the first one to see you. 

Naturally, he spots you the second you walk in, and he’s instantly transported back to when he was an awkward teenager, pathetically pining over his best friend’s sister with absolutely no shot.

Hell, he’s still pining over you. He thought whatever feelings he had for you would’ve faded over the years, but one look at you and everything comes rushing back. 

He thought he’d prepared himself for this, for seeing you again, but one thing that rises above all the other thoughts flooding his brain is that he’s not over you. Not by a long shot. 

He watches you make your way over to your brother and hug him. You lean in close to say something into his ear, and suddenly you’re both looking directly at him.

Lando startles, nearly spilling his drink, but he manages to compose himself quickly. That swoopy feeling he used to get whenever you made your way over to him is back in full swing again. He scrambles to his feet. 

“Hey, Lan!” You greet him keenly, wrapping him in a warm hug. Your perfume washes over him as you do, and he fights the urge to sigh happily. You still wear the same one you always did. He remembers because he’d more or less conditioned himself to associate the nice scent with you. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” 

Lando chuckles breathlessly, praying you’re not able to feel how fast his heart is beating through his shirt. “Too long.” 

You pull away, holding him at arms’ length, studying him with bright eyes. “You’re taller than me now.” 

“I’d hope so. M’not sixteen anymore.” 

“No, you’re not. You look good though, ” You say. You look like you mean it truthfully. 

“How’ve you been?”

“Been better, but I’m…getting by, all things considered.” You shrug, sliding into the chair next to him.

Both of you swing sideways to face each other at the same time, knees knocking into each other as you do. You share an apologetic smile. Your hand blankets his where it rests on the table, squeezing a few times as your eyes light up with excitement. 

You aren’t aware of just how much that one little move affects Lando. 

“But what about you, McLaren’s newest Formula One driver? That’s so amazing. Seriously. I’m proud of you.”  

He’s heard the compliment loads during his rookie year, but hearing it come from you makes his cheeks flush pink. He can feel the comfort of your words spreading from his face into his chest, tendrils of warmth wrapping around his rib cage. You’re proud of him, and it feels like he’s just won the world championship. 

“Thank you,” He squeaks. 

“I always knew you’d do great things.” 

“You’ve been keeping up with my career?” 

“‘Course I have,” You say warmly, nodding like it’s obvious. “It’s not everyday you can say you’ve known one of the up and coming talents of Formula 1 since you were kids.” 

“We’ve come a long way since then, haven’t we?” 

“You, yeah. Me…well, let’s just say I’m still trying to figure things out.” 

“You’re doing the best you can, aren’t you? Shouldn’t that be all that matters?” 

“I suppose you’re right. Thank you, Lan. I needed to hear that.” 

Silence stretches between the two of you, and Lando feels the need to break it. 

“Y’know, I didn't know if you’d come. Since…y’know, whatever’s been going on all this time.” He doesn’t mean to prod, doesn’t mean it as anything other than him drawing a huge blank about why you haven’t been around. 

Your expression still grows somber, brows creasing ever so slightly. “Max hasn’t told you anything?” 

“Seemed like a sore subject, so I never pushed.” 

“You must have a lot of questions then.” You murmur, tracing an idle finger over the pristine white table cloth. “About why I’ve been basically nonexistent for years.” 

“I don't need to know. You’re here now, that's all that matters.” 

“Y’know, you’ve always been so thoughtful, Lando. When we were all kids and Max was being…well, Max, you were always looking out for me, even though you didn’t have to.” 

“I cared about you. Still do.” 

It’s true. Lando cares about you in more ways than one, in more ways than just your little brother’s best friend should, but it isn’t something that he can help. You’ve still got him wrapped around your finger without even knowing it. 

“So sweet.” You smile, squeezing his hand appreciatively, and Lando feels like he’s just been shown a new purpose. He wants to be the one to make you smile like this all the time, something he’s known in his heart for years. “So, tell me more about you. What’s it like in the big leagues?” 

You wind up spending all night glued to each other’s side, filling one another in on what’s been going on in your lives since the last time you saw each other. Granted, it’s a bit more of him doing most of the talking with you on the listening end, but he gets the sense you’d rather have it that way. 

He’ll gladly talk for hours if it meant you looking at him with the pride in your eyes you’ve had the whole night. 

Eventually, the party rolls to an end, as all good nights unfortunately do. Lando wants to stay here, stay with you, but he can’t. He’s got an early morning and a day full of training tomorrow, so he’ll settle for walking you to your car after you’ve both said goodbye to Max. 

You’ve got your arm looped through his as you make your way out of the restaurant with the rest of the dinner guests. 

“This one’s me.” You jut your chin at the car coming up. If Lando isn’t mistaken, you almost sound kind of sad, but maybe he’s just looking too much into things because he doesn't want to leave. You leave his side, putting a little bit of distance between the two of you. “Thank you for keeping me company all night, Lando. It was really nice to see you again.” 

“Likewise. I’ve…” He trails off into an airy chuckle, shoulders creeping towards his shoulders instinctively. For a moment, he wonders if he should even say anything. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I missed you too,” You say softly, giving him a small smile. Lando feels his chest tighten at the sincerity in your tone. Then you step forward and wrap your arms around his neck in a hug and suddenly he’s just about ready to melt as his arms slide around you to return the embrace. 

He isn’t expecting your lips against his cheek, or the way they linger a little longer than to be expected before you step away again. Heat blooms where you kiss him, zipping through his veins like the thrill of pushing the highest speed down the home straight towards the checkered flag. 

“Don’t forget about me when you get to be a big hot shot in the racing world,” You say, only slightly teasing. 

“Don’t think I could.” 

He watches you get into your car and drive away, hands in his pockets, wishing he was brave enough to tell you how he feels about you. Some other time, maybe. One day he’ll muster up the confidence to say something. 

-------

twenty four

No matter how many times Lando comes home to race at Silverstone, the feeling never goes away.

A mix of joy, pride, the unmistakable vice-like grip of anxiety. Lando is excited, no doubt, but all he wants to do is make his home crowd proud. His family is here, his friends are here. Everyone is counting on him to do something amazing.

He’s got a hundred things to do before he has to head down to the garage to gear up, a methodical mental checklist to get through in not a lot of time.

Buzzing with nervous energy, he paces the top level of the motorhome, amping himself up while also trying to calm himself down. He’s barely managed to eat anything all day, as evident by the basically untouched chicken wrap sitting on the table next to him. 

Sure, he’s raced at Silverstone before, but this is the first year he actually has a shot at winning the whole thing. The car has proved to be a speed demon, and he’s been killing it this season, but neither of those help his nerves. 

It makes his stomach twist more than anything. It’s one thing to not win because he doesn't have the facilities to do it, it's entirely worse to know he can win and still let everyone down. 

“Well, if it isn’t little Lando Norris.” 

He freezes at the unexpected voice. Your voice.

His mind flashes back to the last time he saw you, at Max’s birthday party. How you talked all night, and kissed him on the cheek before you parted ways. 

It’s been three years since then, and you’ve stayed in close touch with each other, but you haven’t seen each other in person since that night. It isn’t either of your faults—life got in the way and neither of yours lined up. Nonetheless, he’s grown closer to you these past few years than he ever has, which definitely doesn’t help the massive crush he still has on you. 

Part of him thinks he really needs to move on—he’s been in love with you for so many years he doesn’t even remember the exact number, but his feelings remain the same. Any relationship he’s tried to have, just to see if he could ever love someone else, has never lasted.

Lando thinks he might be stuck on you his whole life, if the entirety of his teenage years and first few of his young adult years have been any indication. 

He’s very prone to wanting things he can’t have, it seems. 

Lando gives his head a shake because it couldn’t be you. You couldn’t be here, because last he heard from Max, you were somewhere out of the country on a work trip and wouldn’t be able to make it to Silverstone for the race. It’s a bummer for sure, but Lando knows you would've come if you could. Max told him you sounded downright upset about it on your check in call earlier in the week to break the news. 

He turns slowly, hesitantly. Hopefully. His fingers tighten on the water bottle he’s got clutched in his hands. 

There you are, looking back at him like something straight out of his dreams. 

You’re older now, as he is too, but there’s something different about you. About how you hold yourself. Like you've finally settled into the person you were meant to be. It isn’t something he could’ve clocked in on through texts and grainy video calls, but he sees it now, clear as day. 

“Hi.” 

“You’re here,” He breathes, disbelieving. He isn’t able to stop himself from rushing forward, bringing you into a very tight, very excited hug that lifts you off your feet.

You let out a surprised noise at his enthusiasm, barely managing to hook an arm over around his shoulders so you wouldn’t go flailing as he spins you around.

He puts you down soon after, still beaming as he takes you in. “How are you here? I thought—Max said you were on a work trip!” 

“I asked him to keep it a secret,” You chuckle, spreading a palm across his chest to steady yourself. “Wanted to surprise you for your home race. Hope that’s okay?” 

“More than okay! It’s so good to see you again,” He insists, folding you into another, albeit much quicker hug. He holds you at arm's length right after. “You look really good.” 

“I feel good,” You say sincerely. “Think I’m finally getting the hang of this whole life thing.” 

“That’s amazing. I’m proud of you for pushing through, sticking it out,” Lando murmurs, just as genuine. There’s nothing better than seeing you finally find a good place, happy with where you are and what you’re doing. It’s all he’s ever wanted for you. 

“Thank you. But oh my god, look at you!” You exclaim, taking his face in your hands. You pinch his cheeks the same way you used to do, but the way you’re looking at him feels much different than before.

There’s something that isn’t quite the same, like something about what you think of him has changed. The thought burrows its way deeper into his brain when one hand slides down to his chest for a few beats.

“You’ve grown up quite a bit again, haven’t you?” 

He laughs, a little high pitched and a little breathless. “Yeah well, you know what they say about second puberty.” 

“Still got the same cute laugh though.” You smile at him brightly, and it's like the sun has just poked its way through the dreary British fog for the first time in ages. His heart does an involuntary tap dance against his ribcage. “Right, well, I’ll leave you to it then. Sorry if I, like, disturbed your pre-race rituals or anything, I just wanted to pop in and say hi before things get crazy.” 

“No, no, I’m glad you did. I think I needed to see a familiar face. Between you and me, I’m kinda freaking out.” 

“Oh, Lan,” You sigh, squeezing his hand. “You’re gonna do great.”

“Hope so.” 

“You will,” You insist firmly. “Don’t think about the people, don’t think about the crowd. Just trust your gut, and drive like hell.” 

Lando didn’t know it before, but your words are exactly the thing he needs right now. He sighs deeply, letting his shoulders relax just the slightest bit. 

“Anyways, I better go. Max is probably wondering where I’ve wandered off to.” 

He clears his throat, giving his head a little shake. “Yeah, I should—I probably need to get going as well.” 

“Good luck, be safe, all that. I’ll be the loudest one cheering you on.” 

Lando hears himself call out your name when you’re a few steps away from the door. You turn back to him, and he knows this is the moment. He’s about to do something he’s never had the balls to do before, never in the nine years he’s been in love with you. Only today, right here, he’s never felt more sure of himself. 

He’s trusting his gut. 

“Would you wanna grab a drink tonight? Dinner too, if you’re up for it?” 

“Yeah, ‘course! I’ll text my brother, see if he’s free.” 

“No,” He blurts. You arch a surprised brow at his sudden outburst. “Sorry, I just—I meant like, maybe just the two of us.” 

You’re quiet for a few moments, and it feels like the longest couple seconds of his life. But then you nod, breaking into a big grin. “I’d really like that.”

Lando doesn’t want to get his hopes up in fear of possibly jinxing it, but it feels like maybe, just maybe, he might have a chance with you. After all these years, he’s no longer just a little kid to you, no longer just your little brother’s best friend.

The thought of that pumps him up better than a race in front of his home crowd ever could.

-------

twenty five

He’s done it. 

Lando's just won in Abu Dhabi, gotten his fourth win of his career—his fourth win of the season. McLaren has just won the constructor’s championship for the first time in twenty six years, and Lando’s been an instrumental part in making it happen. 

The moment he steps out onto the front of the car, hears the crowd cheering for him, he can barely even believe it. It doesn’t feel real at all. 

He wants to find you. He knows you’re here somewhere, probably with his family in the garage. He also knows he doesn’t have the time to find you, not until after he’s taken care of his post race duties. 

Lando doesn't see you until he returns to the pit lane in front of the McLaren garage.

The whole team is gathered there, chattering excitedly amongst themselves. He can feel the energy buzzing through the atmosphere, the pure excitement and joy of a long awaited championship not only for everyone here, but the whole team of papaya back at the factory too. 

This is their time as much as it is his, if not even more. They’re the reason he’s able to live this dream every single day, and for that, he’ll never be able to say enough thank yous. 

Instead, he’ll work even harder next season, keep pushing and honing his craft until he’s able to truly show his gratitude towards them. 

But for now, he’ll celebrate. After a long, grueling (but fulfilling) season, he’s earned that. 

He breaks into a jog towards the huddle, breaking into a face-splitting grin as he jumps into the team celebrations happily. Person after person clap him on the back on his way to his place beside the giant papaya sign, even after the team photo is taken and he gets doused by champagne from all sides. 

Lando feels like a million bucks. This feeling has been a long time coming, a long time needed. If he could bottle it up and save it forever, he would. 

There’s only one thing that could make this moment even better. 

He turns to the crowd behind the barriers, searching, searching, searching for his loved ones until— 

There you are, standing with his family just as he’d thought you’d be, cheering so hard he thinks you might even be crying. 

Man, are you a sight for sore eyes. You’ve both been busy the past few weeks, him with this triple header and you with your job. You’d barely made it to this race, but he’s happy you’re here. Even happier you were here to see him win. 

He makes his way towards you all, doling out hugs to everyone, not able to wipe the smile from his face as he chats with each of them. 

His parents, his sister, and finally…you. 

You’re beaming just as big as he is when he stops in front of you, flinging your arms around his neck in the tightest hug. He lets out a sigh of content, lifting you off your feet a bit in a hug just as tight, burying his face into the crook of your neck as he does so. 

“Hi, baby,” He breathes, running his hands down from your shoulders to your forearms as soon as he puts you down again. “What’d you think?” 

“What do I think?” You exclaim, taking his face in your hands. “I think you did amazing! I think I’ve cried, like, four times already since the race ended, honestly.” 

He laughs, wrapping his fingers around your wrists. “I made you cry?” 

“Yeah, you made me cry, you muppet! I’m so fucking proud of you,” You tell him, sounding nothing but truly sincere. There’s tears in your eyes again, happy tears for him, and he feels a surge of adoration bloom in his chest. “Congratulations, Lan. You’re destined for so much greatness, I know it.” 

He’s sweaty, sticky, and doused in champagne, but he still feels on top of the world at the joy in your eyes.

“I love you,” He blurts. He couldn’t have stopped the words spilling from his mouth even if he tried. 

Maybe it’s the adrenaline, maybe it’s knowing there’s no better time than the present, but it’s out there now. The past five months you’ve been dating have been absolutely mint, but Lando doesn’t think he could’ve gone another moment without telling you. 

You let out a watery sort of chuckle, sliding a hand into the hair at the nape of his neck and bringing him in for a kiss.

You’ve kissed before—a lot, actually—but this one feels different. Better. The giant secret that he’s been holding in from you for years and years is finally out, and it’s like a weight lifted off his chest. 

“I love you too, Lan,” You murmur, words pressed against his lips like they're something reserved only for him. “God, I love you.” 

There goes his heart right then, the last piece of his heart that he’d saved for the day he wasn’t sure would ever come. The last piece of his heart that belonged to him now belongs to you, and in this moment, you’ve got all of it. 

All of Lando’s heart is now yours. 

Lando didn’t think this day could get any better, but now there’s this. The woman of his dreams, the one he’s been in love with since you were both kids, finally loves him back.

He’s not sure what heaven is like, but Lando imagines it might be something like this.

Here, under the Abu Dhabi sky, he’s gotten the championship, he’s finally gotten his girl. To him, there’s nothing better than it. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new fic :)

[xyfanficarchive]

headcanons: calling up your mouthwashing bf to come over when you’re sick <3

because i’m sick.

ft. curly, jimmy, and daisuke

its my first time writing daisuke… idk brother but i had ideas for him so

Curly:

-this sweet, loving man is on the scene to come to your aid asap. like it’s his destiny to be your sicknurse. he loves being there to care for you

-he shows up with everything: warm blankets, hes got cold and flu medicine, he brought your favourite sweater of his for you to wear, little snacks, a thermometer to take your temperature

-if you’re lucky, he asked his mum to make soup, and he brought a serving or two. the man can’t really cook. he had a lovely mother who fed him and then spent way too much time in space eating prepackaged meals and slop assembled from gelatin water and sweetener.

-but her soup is not something you can just whip up really fast; so if not, he’ll try cooking anyways - an easy recipe. pre made broth cartons and all that. might even go for the pre packaged dry soup sachets. he’s aware of his culinary shortcomings. but it’s made with the utmost love.

-he does make a great cup of tea. nice, warm, and sweet to soothe your sore throat.

-he’s typically a well dressed man but he shows up in comfy clothes. he’s ready to lock down and cuddle with you for as long as you need, on the bed, or on the couch watching a movie, something lighthearted and low stakes. he’s a furnace, theres no better man to lie with when you’re shivering from the fever and cant get warm.

-he’ll gently massage your achey body, the man has magic hands, you feel so much better.

-when the fever breaks and you’re sweaty and flushed he’s there to help strip you out of the thick layers and dab cool water on your face and neck and chest

-he knows he’s gonna get sick. but he doesn’t mind that much, its all worth it to be there and to show you how much he cares <3

Jimmy:

-not gonna lie, his first thought is “what the fuck, i don’t wanna get sick, i can’t afford that shit.” he almost doesn’t want to come. cause when he gets sick, he always has to weather the sickness all alone.

-he doesn’t eat that well on earth. so maybe he’s a lil malnourished, his immune system isn’t the strongest. when he gets sick he’s fucking down for the count.

-but he zips it up, and thinking for a second more he realizes that he was the first one you called for help and comfort and he just. pauses and pinches the bridge of his nose, sighs. “…just hang on, I’ll be right there.” he does care about you, when it comes down to it.

-and imagine your surprise when you amble weakly to the door and he’s there, with a bottle of nyquil and, a bag of vegetables, some pasta, and is that a whole uncooked chicken?! he dug deep into his coffers to get ingredients to make you real chicken soup. if that doesnt show you how much jimmy loves you idk what will.

-he’s no 5 star chef, but he can cook pretty well. he can follow a recipe no problem. there were a lot of “fend for yourself” nights growing up. sometimes he’d even save his own money as a kid to buy ingredients to make a real proper meal.

-(and also slaving away over the stove for hours gives him an excuse to keep his distance as much as possible, man does not want to get infected.)

-he’s still gonna sit with you, let you lay your head on his lap while he waits for the soup to all simmer together. stroking your hair while you’re under a pile of blankets, both watching nothing tv just to pass the time and fill the silence. you can kinda smell the soup, what you can smell is rich and delicious

-you both eat his incredible hearty nourishing soothing soup and cuddle on the couch when you start getting cold. and when he starts thinking it’s time to leave he realizes you fell asleep on his chest. fuck, i guess he’s stuck now.

-he really, really hopes you’ll return the favour in a week’s time when he’s sick as a dog. (you better go nurse that man and make him feel so cared for)

Daisuke:

-the man is thrilled. hes like AWWW YEAH DAISUKE TO THE RESCUE COMING TO NURSE MY BOO BACK TO HEALTH. he’s so happy you asked him for help. he’s determined to make you feel better.

-he really does the absolute most. he pulls up with like, several different kinds of medicine, he’s got games and movies to pass the time, he’s got so many snacks and junk food. he was at the store thinking, what food always makes me feel better? and filled his cart. there was a get well soon balloon at the checkout line so you know he bought it last second.

-he’s a little. much. he’s just enthusiastic about making you feel better. he’s going through the whole laundry list of everything he brought while your sluggish sick brain is in circles trying to keep up. and not gonna lie, you’re a little too fatigued to play video games.

-so you’re lying there next to him under the blankets watching him play video games and munching on like. chips and candy and stuff. coughing and dripping from your nose. kinda drifting in and out of sleep. he’s doing his very best to keep it down. but just being near him is so comforting.

-eventually. the junk food just is not cutting it. and your mouth kinda hurts from the hard salty snacks and your tongue is coated from the candy. “daisuke, baby… did you bring any real food?” and you sound all weak and hoarse and youre aching all over. he’s like. OH, shit. yah i guess chips arent the most nourishing food for when youre sick huh…. he sits there thinking for a moment and then the lightbulb goes off

-“hold on babe, i know just the thing, i’ll be right back!!” and he rushes out. on the way to the grocery store again he’s calling up his mom like MAMA how do you make that soup you gave me when i was sick as a kid???

-he comes back and whips up estrellita soup in no time, because its just like, chicken broth and some salt and little star pasta. and he looks so damn pleased handing you the bowl. how the fuck can you feel bad when he’s smiling like that over this bowl of tiny little stars.

-he’s so happy watching you eat his childhood sick soup. he spends the night, all he wants is to make you feel better, he doesnt even think once about getting sick himself.

[glamourscat]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ My thoughts on the Itoshi brothers’ dynamic ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

The Itoshi brothers’ dynamic is so damn sad, and it breaks my heart a little more every time I think about it.

The thing is, we know that Rin is deeply upset (and that’s an understatement) with Sae. Sae made him a promise, the one about becoming the best players in the world together. Reading the manga makes you understand that the way Sae says it, it’s meant as nothing more than “child talk.” You know, when you’re a child and you feel you’re on top of the world? Exactly like that. When you feel you’re invincible and nothing can break you.

But then Sae left for Spain, alone. He was still just a kid. We don’t know what happened during his time abroad, but we can speculate that it wasn’t easy. Easy to adapt, given the cultural differences between Japan and Spain. It probably wasn’t easy to understand and come to terms with the fact that he was not “the best in the world” like he used to be in the little team he played for in Japan. He went to Spain, met stronger opponents, and his dream got crushed. From a striker to a midfielder, because he saw better talents than him. Because he was probably made to feel like his talent wasn’t worth even trying.

You can’t tell me that a little boy with so much substance, joy, passion, and determination to become the number one striker is suddenly reduced to nothing but a shell of who he was. Sure, people grow, but we are talking about a massive jump. We are talking about a kid left to his own devices, alone, without a family by his side in a foreign country.

Which leads me to Rin. I understand his anger. The way he feels betrayed when Sae comes back and suddenly it’s not about “us” together, but about “us” separately. I understand the way he felt betrayed because while Rin poured every ounce of his sweat and tears into leveling up for Sae—his older brother had instead “moved on,” logically. While Rin was breaking himself in four to become someone good enough for Sae, keeping the promise they made close to heart, Sae hadn’t thought about it twice.

Sure, you can blame Rin and say he was too naive, too childish. But he was. He was all those things; he was a child. What child, a younger brother at that, wouldn’t take into consideration the words from his older brother? Younger siblings thrive off their older ones, becoming who they are as individuals by looking up to their older siblings, most of the times at least. It’s obvious why Rin chose football and not another sport, for example. Why he stopped receiving presents from Santa at 8 because his brother had stopped at 10—and if Sae stopped, then so would he, despite still longing for presents.

The betrayal hit Rin particularly hard because while he still had no idea who he was or is, he had at least Sae to look up to. And he was under the impression that the two of them would become the best together. But then Sae comes back, and that dream is out the window.

I’m not going to sit here and debate ethics, because morally speaking, neither Rin nor Sae are perfect beings. They are both equally flawed, and that’s what makes this tragic. Fast forward to now, with Rin being 16/17 and Sae 18, this is where the issues flow in.

They are both old enough to know that the words Sae spoke in the past and the present are wrong and hurtful. No, it’s not “sibling dynamics.” You can be as angry as you want with the world, with your sibling. But to speak like that, then pretend nothing happened and genuinely be confused about why your little brother is “acting out” is next-level madness. Last time I checked, we don’t know exactly what type of individuals Rin’s and Sae’s parents are. But, seeing how their kids react to conflict and hard emotions, it’s safe to say they probably aren’t the best parents. And there’s some emotional neglect involved.

Back to what I was saying, when you’re 16 your emotions are so damn high, this is not me trying to excuse Rin, it’s me understanding where he comes from. It doesn’t excuse the type of person he has become. It’s me sympathising with his situation, because when you live in an environment where you’re forced to either survive or get eaten—you choose survival, no matter what it takes to achieve it. He is a nasty piece of work, with his sharp edges, closed off emotionally and mentally. Slightly judgmental and extremely angry. At himself, at everything. His anger, however, doesn’t mutate like Shidou’s into violence on the field. Rin’s anger is thin, at times invisible. It seeps through the cracks and makes him bitter and sorrowful.

That said, when you come to terms with the fact that Sae has no idea on why Rin is so angry at him and the reason for his anger—passing off his attitude and words as simple “teenage angst” — makes me feel many ways, and none are positive. To me, it’s absurd seeing your little brother acting so hostile towards you, seeing the clear signs of anger and frustration but also sadness in him, and passing it off as “Rin is acting out.” How? Genuinely, how?

You see your brother on the verge of screaming at you on the football field, in front of thousands of people present and live during the U20 match, and what do you do? Further insult him? Girl— It’s the way Sae is not even trying to understand. You can think all you want that your brother is going through a phase, and maybe it’s just me, but if I see my younger sibling acting out, I’m going to talk to them. It doesn’t have to be an emotional confrontation per se, but a simple “what the hell is going on with you?” kind of thing. Letting them know that you’re there for them.

But, with the hypothetical scenario where the Itoshi brothers grew up in an emotionally neglectful house, it makes sense why Sae doesn’t even know how to approach Rin. Ultimately, however, the fact that Sae has no idea why his brother is “acting out,” why Rin is just so angry, makes the whole thing even sadder. Because while Rin took everything to heart and that anger, the delusion is slowly consuming him—Sae has no idea what’s going on. And if Rin finds out that Sae doesn’t even know/didn’t even notice, I think it would end even worse than it already is.

There, we will see his anger explode to unimaginable levels. Anger turning into self-destruction. Rin would truly become a shell of himself, unsure of what direction to take. Because how do you even begin to explain to your little brother that his anger, the way he was feeling, wasn’t even noticed or acknowledged by his older brother? How do you even begin to explain that Sae doesn’t even understand why Rin is reacting the way he is? Truth is, Sae is emotionally unavailable, and Rin is a ticking bomb ready to explode really soon.

© GLAMOURSCAT

[pedge-page]

aww imagine when ellie is a little older and she has one of those doctor kit toys, and joel gets a cut (or maybe a bruise or something like that) and ellies like "it's okay daddy i'll help you 🥺" and she runs with her little kit and puts on the stethoscope and does a little "check up" and takes his blood pressure and checks his temperature, and then she asks where his boo boo is 😭 and then she gives it a little kiss (bc thats what joel and reader do) and she's like "all better daddy :)" 😭😭😭 please that would send me into a coma that is too cute

notes: oh my god this was so adorable to think about, thank you so much for the baby fever.... I ran a little further with this one based off this ask!

Joel Dealing with Wife: Doctor Ellie

- - - -

Joel’s caught on to something pretty big here. His ever growing littler girl Ellie is quite the caretaker….of him especially. All he tolerated under you and Sarah finally met its match when Ellie quietly entered the world.

He started to realize it after she would burst into tears each time he’d trip on Sarah’s toys, or grunted at your shoulder slaps. But she only ever showed worry when it was him getting hurt.

And he couldn’t get enough of it. Okay sure, its wrong to make your kid worry about things they don’t understand isn’t quite worth stressing over, but he can’t help but fall into a giddy awe spell of greed seeing just how bent out she gets when she thinks he’s hurt. It started with big hugs for long minutes. Then she decided she needed to practice real medicine. The amount of bandaids this family has gone through despite no real injury is astounding to his wallet. 

But it’s commendable. She so carefully puts her warm hands over his forehead whenever he stubs his toe, or checks his pulse when he’s eaten something too hot. Doctor Ellie is always in the house, and ready to assist.

And maybe Daddy… goes a little too out of his way to bring her out.

Joel had just rammed a large plank of wood into his abdomen, not carefully checking its length before swinging it around as if he were still in his twenties. “Ugh--damnit!” He groans, clutching his side. The throb lasted for just a moment before dulling, and he was about to carry on his business when—

“DADDY!!!!” Ellie wails, followed by the patterpatterpatter of her little feet running as fast as they can take him towards his aid.

She’s etched with concern over her chunky face, grasping on her tip toes for his hands. “Daddy okay?” She asks with her high pitched, sweetie voice that gets his soft spot racing.

“Yea—No. No baby…I think—“ he clutches his side, as if remembering the near fatal accident he just suffered. “Uuughh---oh Ellie…I’m hurt. I’m hurt real bad.” He bends forward, one hand over his abdomen while the other covers his face. (He peeks through one squinted eye to see her reaction).

She gasps. “It’s okay daddy! I help make it better!”

She grasps his finger with her entire hand and leads him towards the living room. “Moo!” She commands to Spoon. “Amboolance! WEE WOO WEE!!” She waves her hands around to clear the way of the invisible traffic as Joel followed, half squatted and stiffly wobbling to match her short stature.

She quickly tosses a blanket on the carpet, pointing for Joel to lie down. He obliges, groaning more so from the cracks in his back and knee instead of the fake pain he’s been dishing out.

He watches as she digs frantically through the bin of various toys before retrieving her mobile hospital toy kit. With the stethoscope thrown on her waist (it’s for kids 8 and up and she isn’t quite the size yet), she puts the rounded part over Joel’s stomach. Then she presses her head on his injury as well, causing him to let out an oof and chuckle as she listens futally for his heartbeat. 

“I nee take look.”

She rolls up his shirt a few inches to uncover the invisible wound. 

“How bad is it, doc?” Joel pleas in dramatic desperation.

She tilts her head to the side, closing one eye with her palm before shaking her head.

“Nee sur—Sur gee.”

Joel puts together that’s surgery, and he’s starting to wonder where she’s learning all this hospital stuff….

She begins rummaging around for her other toys before announcing “Knife!”

Joel’s head sits right up, eyes wide in Father-panic mode that she may have gotten her hands on an actual—

She instead pulls her yellow and green kids-cooking toy plastic knife that is meant to part velcroed plastic vegetables, and realistically couldn’t even slice through two strands of hair. He lets out a sigh, leaning back and letting her continue with her critical patient.

“Snack time!”

Of course you just had to interrupt their special Daddy-daughter only playtime with fucking snack ti—oh is that apple slices and peanut butter?

Ellie drops everything, sits on her butt almost like a dog and awaits patiently for her snack. Conveniently Spoon has also come to sit automatically next to her, if the dog-analogy wasn’t evident enough.

“Interrupting surgery, babe,” Joel hums. 

“Surgery can wait after snack.”

Ellie wiggles her feet as you hold out a slice towards her mouth for her to bite and keep her hands clean. The room is silent minus the content, unhurried crunching of apple sizes.

“Okay baby, continue your surgery. What part are we at?” You ask, sucking a slice into your mouth as you also dip one into Joel’s open trap, giggling as he swallows it like an arcade ticket machine crunching away at his spoils. 

“Make cut,” she says plainly, searching around for that knife again.

You raise your brow suspiciously  but let any irrational thought go as she holds up her very non lethal kiddie knife.

Doctor Ellie starts serrating his belly fat back and forth with the dull piece of thick plastic.

It probably looks like real pain to her, were it not for him holding his breath as his chest and stomach puffing up and down, trying to hold his giggles and squirms together.

You watch Joel with raised brow, knowing he’s got tears in his eyes trying to play poker face so hard, knowing you’re there watching him get tickled by this thing and knowing he’s gonna deny it profusely. 

“Shouldn’t you put me under anesthesia—“

She slaps a piece of paper — the phony ticket from her train conductor set (Jesus, how many different toy sets did you guys get her?) — a little too carelessly, but enough to get the idea across that daddy needs to stop talking as she does careful work.

“Sew!” She announces, as if she has a nurse assistant handing her each tool. Although, technically, she does, but you seem more interested in wiping the plate of peanut butter and sucking it off your digits.

Joel’s eyes are closed, enjoying the serenity of lying on the floor. You don’t realize how good it is to be on the ground until you have kids, and now you’re constantly on the floor doing everything with them.

“Mommy…where sew?”

You shrug. They’ve got so many toys, you’re honestly not sure what creative thing she’s gonna come up with the “sew” Joel’s tummy. Given her use of the kids knife, you’re curious what kind of toy—

She pulls out a real sewing needle, point and sharp and definitely not kid approved along with fabric thread. It glints in her little hand for a brief moment as she dips to make contact on Joel’s skin—

“OOKAY Let’s not use that,” you yelp, grasping her arm carefully from going any further. Joel’s still got that stupid paper over his eyes, absolutely oblivious and too trusting of Ellie. 

Something else about kids: you can baby proof the fuck out of everything you didn’t even think needed baby proofing, and yet they will still —what does Jeff Goldblum say in the dinosaur movie?…—f’ind a way’. 

You remove the needle and thread from her grasp, position it inside a cotton swab and high out of her reach. You fashion a string of yarn wrapped around a q-tip instead, and hand it to her like it’s nothing. She takes it and goes back to “sewing” Joel’s tummy up, dragging the cottony tip over his naval.

His belly dips as he lets out a pained breath, trying so hard to act like he’s not tickled. 

“Am I gonna make it doc?” Joel asks curiously.

“Bluey!”

He doesn’t quite understand that answer, until she’s pulling out the packs of varied assortment of bandaids. It takes a few minutes to help her pull each sticky back off, but soon Joel’s got 4 bandaids of Paw Patrol on his stomach, one Bingo on top of his jeans, some chainsaw massacre’s on his arm, and a pretty hello kitty across his forehead. 

“All done!” She boasts happily.

“Nah uh! You need to make sure it stays better!”

“Oh—“ she bends down and kisses his belly, just like you and Joel always do whenever she gets a minor booboo. Kisses make everything better.

Minus the bacteria in your saliva but ya know it’s the placebo in the thought that really counts for the healing factor. 

“Give daddy one on the cheek for good measure,” he commands, pointing sternly into his face. She happily obliges with a fat “mmmmmwah!”

“Yay. Looks like he’ll live,” you muse a little too unhappily. Joel snickers, sitting upright. God, he somehow looks ridiculous and hot with hellow kitty plastered across his forehead. 

“Doc, do you think I need to come back in for a check up, ya know, just to see—“

But Ellie has already concluded her medical services, now hustling away to go find something else to do. 

-

Joel steps out to the backyard, where Sarah is cruising in her remote toy jeep with the 6 ducks packed in the passenger seat and trunk. 

She rolls to a stop, her brightly colored sunglasses peering up at her Dad. She sucks her ring pop silently, knowing the desperation he’s come to seek her out.

Sarah fully well knows Ellie has Joel in her back pocket, and she likes to let that play out. because ultimately… Sarah can also benefit from their needy relationship off one another.

Joel clears his throat, looking around as if he’s making an illegal trade. “I’ll give ya two ring pops if ya pretend to run me over. And not the face this time,” he warms, knowing she’’ll plea innocence to his own askings. “Just for Ellie to see.”

She sucks on her candy before pulling it out of her mouth with a loud pop. “I’d do it for free.”

----

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[pucksandpower]

Ooh, for the grid kids series, how about the time when all the grid kids had to babysit Seb and y/n's daughter? I feel like it would be chaos all around.

Grid Kids: Baby-Sitters Club

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids have tamed some of the fastest cars on the planet but can they tame their baby sister?

Series Masterlist

Max Verstappen: Good Taste in Music

“Alright, mate, remember, she likes the pacifier if she starts crying and always check if she’s hungry,” Sebastian instructs as he hands over the baby monitor to Max.

Max nods, trying to hide the nervousness on his face. “Got it. How hard can it be? I’ve tamed a Red Bull, after all.”

You chuckle, “It’s not the same, Max. She’s not going to pit in 2.4 seconds if she needs something.”

Handing over a small pink bag, you add, “There’s some milk in the bottle and a few toys. Oh, and if she starts crying and won’t stop, play her the Formula 1 theme. She strangely calms down to that.”

Max, cradling the baby carefully in his arms, smirks. “Like mother, like daughter.”

Sebastian laughs, “Alright, we’ll be back in a couple of hours. You got this.”

An hour into his babysitting gig and things are surprisingly smooth. Max and the little one are seated on the couch, with him talking to her about overtaking techniques and the importance of tire management.

Suddenly, a small wail interrupts his monologue. Max’s eyes widen in slight panic. He tries the pacifier. No luck. He checks the diaper. Still dry. The wailing grows louder.

Thinking quickly, he connects his phone to the speakers and starts playing the F1 theme song. Just as you said, the baby’s cries subside and she starts to doze off.

Max lets out a sigh of relief, whispering to the now sleeping baby, “You’re going to be a racer, aren’t you? Just remember, Maxie taught you the basics.”

A few hours later, you return to find Max fast asleep on the couch with a snoozing baby cuddled on his chest, the F1 theme playing softly in the background. You share a smile, knowing your little girl is in good hands with her grid brothers.

Charles Leclerc: Start Them Young

“Okay, she might be a bit tricky during her nap times. She’s been fighting sleep a lot lately,” you adjust the baby bag over Charles’ shoulder.

Charles gives a confident nod, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Don’t worry, I have a plan. Have you ever tried Ferrari engine sounds to help her fall asleep?”

Sebastian chuckles, “Not quite the lullaby most kids go for but anything is worth a shot.”

You smile, patting Charles on the back, “Good luck. We’ll be back soon.”

An hour into babysitting, the little one is becoming restless, rubbing her eyes, yet refusing to close them. Charles has an idea. Booting up his laptop, he finds a clip from one of the recent races, and soon, the familiar sound of a roaring Ferrari engine fills the room.

Amazingly, the baby’s eyes start to droop, and within minutes, she’s sound asleep. Charles grins triumphantly, feeling quite proud of his unconventional method.

Later, he decides to do a mini photoshoot, dressing her up in a tiny Ferrari onesie he secretly bought and posing her with a little Ferrari model car.

Upon returning, you and Sebastian are welcomed by a giggling Charles showing them the adorable pictures. “Look, she’s a natural Tifosa! We start them young.”

Sebastian laughs, “That’s one way to do it. Just remember, she’s got Red Bull and Aston Martin blood too.”

Charles winks, “We’ll see about that!"

You can’t help but laugh, “No matter the team, she’s got the best grid brothers around.”

Lance Stroll: Canadian by Proxy

“Alright, little miss, ready for some Canadian immersion?” Lance grins widely, holding up a tiny hockey stick and puck. “It’s never too early for your first hockey lesson.”

You raise an eyebrow, laughing, “I’m not sure she can even hold that stick yet, let alone play.”

Lance winks, adjusting the baby-sized Montreal Canadiens jersey he brought with him. “Trust me, by the time I’m done, she’ll be ready for the NHL.”

Sebastian smirks, “Just remember, no actual skating yet.”

With you and Sebastian heading out, Lance sets the scene for a cozy afternoon. He places the baby on a soft blanket, surrounding her with plush hockey toys, and turns on a recorded game. Soon, the room echoes with the sounds of cheering fans and commentary.

The baby gazes curiously at the screen, her little fingers reaching out to grasp the mini puck Lance places in front of her. Lance, laying beside her, narrates the game with exaggerated commentary, making her giggle with delight.

Halfway through their game, Lance feels adventurous. He gently places the baby in a laundry basket cushioned with a plush blanket, using the mini hockey stick to push her around, mimicking the action on the TV screen. Her laughter fills the room as they play their unique version of indoor hockey.

By the time you return, you find Lance, completely worn out, sprawled on the floor, with your daughter, dressed in her little hockey jersey, contentedly napping next to him, clutching the mini stick.

Sebastian laughs, “Looks like you had quite the game.”

Lance grins, slightly out of breath, “She’s got potential. Might just be the next German hockey prodigy.”

You chuckle, “Thanks, Lance. Just remember, before hockey comes racing.”

He winks, “We’ll see. Maybe She’ll bring the Stanley Cup back home to Montreal one day!”

George Russell: Pulling Pigtails

“George! Over here!” You wave, holding out the baby bag as George ambles over, hair in its usual perfect quiff.

“Well, hello there!” George greets, bending over to coo at the baby who instantly reaches out, tiny fingers eager to grab his thick hair.

“Looks like someone’s a fan of your hair,” Sebastian remarks with a chuckle, watching as his daughter gleefully tugs on George's hair.

George laughs, wincing just a tad. “It’s alright, who needs a hairdresser when you have such a cute little stylist?”

You hand over a bottle of milk, “She just had a nap and might be hungry soon. And, well, you might want to keep an eye on your hair.”

With baby in arms, George heads over to the living room. Laying out a blanket, he places her down, only to have her immediately try crawling towards him, reaching for his hair again. Grinning, he plays a little game, leaning in close and then pulling back, making her giggle each time.

As the afternoon progresses, George discovers that his hair is the ultimate distraction. Whether she’s fussy or just bored, having his hair within reach keeps her entertained. Even feeding her becomes easier as she remains captivated by his hair while sipping on her milk.

Feeling a tad mischievous, George decides to shoot a quick Instagram story, showing the world his new hairdresser in action. Fans immediately flood the comments, loving the adorable interaction between the racing star and the tiny tot.

When you and Sebastian return, you find George seated, baby in his lap, both engrossed in a video of funny hair fails. His hair now looks nothing like its usual pristine self, instead resembling a bird’s nest.

“Seems like you two had quite the day,” you remark with a laugh.

George, brushing a hand through his tousled hair, smiles, “Best hair appointment ever. And the most adorable tiny stylist to boot.”

Lando Norris: Stealing the Show

“Alright, munchkin, just you and me today. How hard can this be?” Lando chirps, picking up the little bundle and settling her onto the couch, surrounding her with cushions. The room is set up for his usual streaming session, his gaming chair at the ready and multiple screens glowing.

He’s barely into his first game when a small cry interrupts him. “Hungry already?” he asks, looking over to see her trying to grab the controller lying next to her. “Ah, you want in on the action?”

Quickly, Lando scoops her up and settles her on his lap, handing her a toy controller. “There you go, co-host,” he says with a grin, adjusting his headset and returning to his game.

He’s live-streaming and the chat exploded with comments about his adorable helper.

Who’s the kiddo?

That’s some fierce competition you got there!

Does she have her own Twitch channel yet?

But the peace doesn’t last long. In the middle of a particularly intense race, the baby suddenly decides to slam her toy controller on the keyboard. The game goes haywire, Lando’s car spinning out of control.

“Oh no! Sabotage!” Lando exclaims, laughing even as he tries to regain control.

The baby giggles, clearly pleased with the chaos she’s caused. Lando’s chat goes wild with laughter and teasing comments.

Dude, you just got schooled by a baby!

That’s what you get for multi-tasking

She’s clearly the superior gamer

Shaking his head in mock exasperation, Lando says, “Alright, alright, you win this round.” He lifts her up, peppering her face with playful kisses, making her squeal and show a gummy smile.

Throughout the stream, there are more interruptions — from spit-up incidents to sudden dance breaks every time she gets fussy. Lando quickly learns that streaming with a baby requires a whole new level of multitasking.

As the stream comes to an end, Lando addresses his viewers. “Thanks for joining in. Hope you enjoyed the special appearance by our youngest gamer here. Maybe we’ll make this a regular thing?”

The unanimous response? More baby streams!

Chuckling, Lando signs off, “Say bye-bye, little co-driver.”

She waves her tiny hand as the screen goes black.

Mick Schumacher: Baby Meets Fur Baby

“Hey there, Ang,” Mick says with a smile as he enters the room, the baby cradled in his arms. Angie, his Australian Shepherd, immediately perks up, her tail wagging enthusiastically.

The baby’s eyes widen as she takes in the large, furry creature approaching her. Mick chuckles, gently lowering her onto the floor as he kneels down beside her. “This is Angie,” he introduces, watching as the dog sniffs curiously at the baby.

Angie’s warm, wet nose tickles the baby’s palm and she lets out a squeal, her fingers curling in delight. “Looks like you’ve made a new friend,” Mick chuckles, patting Angie’s head.

As if sensing the baby’s fascination, Angie sits down and gently places her head in the baby’s lap. The baby giggles, her tiny fingers brushing against the soft fur. Mick watches the interaction with a fond smile, his heart melting at the sight of his dog and baby sister bonding.

Mick then picks up a toy from the nearby pile and hands it to the baby. “Here you go, little one. Angie’s sharing her toys with you.”

The baby takes the toy, inspecting it with wide eyes before promptly attempting to shove it into Angie’s mouth. Mick chuckles softly, taking the toy from her and showing her how to play with it.

“Hey, Angie, be gentle,” Mick instructs his dog, who seems just as excited as the baby about the playtime. As Angie retrieves her own toy and lays down beside the baby, Mick joins them on the floor, ensuring the little one doesn’t get overwhelmed.

Time flies as they play together, the baby’s giggles filling the room. Mick can’t help but smile at the simple joy on her face and he finds himself falling into a gentle rhythm with her.

After a while, the baby’s eyelids start to droop and her fingers loosen their grip on the toy. Mick smiles, knowing she’s getting tired. “Looks like someone’s ready for a nap,” he whispers, carefully picking her up and cradling her in his arms.

Angie follows them as they make their way to the nursery. Mick gently lays her down in the crib, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “Sleep tight, little one.”

As he turns to leave the room, Angie hesitates by the crib, looking back at the baby with a soft whimper. Mick chuckles, scratching behind her ears. “Don’t worry, Ang. You’ll be here when she wakes up.”

Runaway Baby

Max, face flushed, darts through the paddock, narrowly avoiding a mechanic pushing a cart of tires. “I swear I just saw her here!” he shouts, barely avoiding a collision.

Lando, holding a stuffed bear, pants as he catches up, “I turned around for a second and she was gone! How does someone so small move so fast?”

Charles is on the phone, trying to speak over the noise, “We’ve got everything under control, just ... some tiny mishaps. Nothing to worry about!”

“Tiny mishaps? Charles, that’s an understatement!” George interrupts, waving a baby bottle in his hand.

Lance, coming out of the Aston Martin garage, looks worried, “Checked the garages, no sign of her. We need a strategy guys, like an actual race strategy but without Ferrari messing it up this time.”

George chimes in, “How did we lose her? There were six of us and one of her!”

Mick looks pale, “I was showing her my dad’s old helmet and turned around for one second to put it down. Then she just toddled away while I wasn’t looking!"

Suddenly, from a distance, there’s a familiar baby giggle. They turn to see a reporter, microphone in hand, crouched down in front of a camera. Their sister sits beside him, happily babbling away, reaching out for the fuzzy microphone cover.

The reporter, clearly amused, asks, “And who do you think is going to win the race today?” The baby, enthralled with the microphone, tries to chew on it.

Lando sighs in relief, “Well, she’s got a future in media, that’s for sure.”

Charles approaches the duo, scooping up the baby and thanking the reporter. “Thanks for babysitting. You might have a new pundit here.”

The grid kids gather around, all breathing sighs of relief. Max ruffles his sister’s hair, “You gave us quite the scare, snoepje.”

“She definitely knows how to steal the spotlight,” Mick says with a chuckle.

You and Sebastian, having witnessed the chaos from afar, approach with raised eyebrows. You smirk, “You guys thought babysitting in the paddock would be easy?”

Lando grins sheepishly, “Definitely more challenging than a race, that’s for sure.”

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Baby whisperer

A/N: My baby fever with Mr. Stark is baacckkkk. Anyone care to join me???

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warning: 18+ fluff

.

You were on the verge of tears at this point.

It had been hours and you were still struggling to get your baby to settle. You had tried everything that normally would get her to fall asleep, you’d fed her, bathed her, placed her in her favourite rocking chair, even sang to her but it wasn’t working tonight.

Nothing was.

With the ever raging hormones, you felt like a failure who couldn’t even get her two month old child to sleep. Her wails were proof enough that you weren’t doing enough.

You were pacing back and forth in her nursery, patting her back gently while she screamed, your clothes already ruined when she spit up earlier. You’d have to take another shower, you thought. But all you wanted was for your baby to settle so you could too.

Like every new parent, sleep was non-existent these days but holding your precious daughter, watching her toothless grin and listening to her incoherent babbles made everything worth it.

She was everything you and Tony ever wanted.

Speaking of Tony, you asked the AI where your husband was, not hiding the irritation in your voice as she informed he was down in his lab, as always.

“Tell him it would be grand if he cared to visit his daughter and distraught wife, would you FRI?” You grumbled, still pacifying your baby whose cries had settled to a certain extent, but she was still fussing about.

“Did someone summon Daddy Stark? How are my favourite girls?” Tony’s arrival didn’t hinder your pacing, his eyes widening slightly when you threw you him your ‘you’re in trouble’ glare.

“She won’t settle today. I’ve tried everything.”

Immediately your baby squirmed in your arms, it was as if she was waiting for her father to hold her. Passing her to Tony carefully, you let out a sigh and took a seat in the plush armchair that sat next to her crib.

“Hazel M Stark, I heard you’ve been a little cranky today. How about we close those beautiful eyes and show Mama we can behave, huh?”

You watched in awe as Tony spoke to Hazel, his voice soft as ever, holding her against his chest as she settled down in minutes. He began humming a lullaby in Italian, one that made her drowsy in no time.

You knew this lullaby since he would often sing it to you during the last few weeks of your pregnancy when you were getting little to no sleep thanks to the discomfort that came with growing a baby in your belly.

He had been a calming factor throughout when you had initially presumed he would freak out the most. Whenever the baby’s kicks woke you up in the middle of the night, all he’d have to do was place his hands over your tummy and she would settle.

It was from then you knew that she’d be Daddy’s little girl. And every day ever since, was just proof that you were right.

It was heartwarming to watch, but equally annoying in times like these. All he would do was lovingly take her in his arms and she’d be content. But to be fair, you were the same when you’d initially got together with the man.

Shocked and offended as you were, you were relieved to see your baby finally calm and quiet, fast asleep before Tony gently laid her in her crib, making sure she had her stuffed rabbit and blanket secured around her.

“Are you sure you don’t secretly have more kids running around?” You joked, shaking your head in disbelief as you gazed down at Hazel, who was now sleeping blissfully.

“Excuse me? If you must know I have three.”

You chuckled, accepting Tony’s hug as he rubbed your back soothingly, placing a loving kiss against the side of your head. It was then when you allowed yourself to fully feel the exhaustion you were ignoring, the ache in your muscles, the heaviness in your eyelids, all of it. If you could, you’d sleep for sixteen hours straight but you knew there was only a couple of hours you would be rewarded with before your newborn would wake up for her feeding.

“Come on, Mama. Let’s get you to bed. I got another special lullaby for you.”

[seventhemaverick]

Astro Observations 🌱

Disclaimer: This is my first Astrology post! I tried to do this earlier this year but tumblr lagged and it deleted all of my hard work lol. But now I’ve gained the courage to give it another go! I’m not a professional astrologer. I just study it in depth when I have time. Still very much a beginner. Please be kind and if I’m misinformed let me know! If you want to repost my work please credit me. This also has personal opinions in here don’t take it too seriously babes!

🌾 I don’t typically think Leo’s and Scorpios go together romantically BUT any other relationship outside of that exudes power team. For ex: Kylie and Kris Jenner. Scorpios are known to love power and Leo’s love the spotlight! Kylie was bound to be a favorite after her « ugly duckling » phase. Kylie rolls in the dough and Kris keeps that empire going. I’ve seen many Scorpio parents with Leo kids and they really seem to love them the most lol

Let’s talk about underdeveloped placements real quick!

🌿 Having a parent that is toxic or underdeveloped and has placements that fall into your second house can obliterate your self worth. ESPECIALLY if you have planets in that house and their placements are exactly conjunct 0° or 1-3°.

🌾 If your mars sign is exactly square one of your parents mars or 1-5° orb… 🌚 take the steps to move out if you haven’t already it’s for the best.

🌿 Capricorn moons I wish I could hug all of you. You had to grow up so fast and got handed some of the worst cards. But nevertheless resilience is your middle name. As you age things will get easier if you stand on business! Integrity is key.

🌾 I know libras are known to be superficial or whatever and I’m kinda one of them lol. I literally live off of aesthetics and I typically have nice skin but when I have a massive break out? I literally want to hide until they’re gone. My stress is next level when I don’t look my best.. I’m also a Leo Venus 😅 in the tenth house at that and have cancelled plans when I look and feel shitty.

🌿 All of the air signs almost always value intellectual stimulation first from their partner. Someone they can have great rapport, banter with. Someone that’s witty and knows a wide variety of subjects or has many interests is very hot. Sagittarius is the air sign of the fire signs so I’ll loop them in on this too.

If we lost any zodiac element, it would bring chaos to the entire world.

🌾 Air brings logic and reasoning, water brings compassion and empathy, earth brings grounding and patience, fire brings passion and vitality. Life is about interconnectedness.

🌿 I remember reading a blog that the gods put the constellation of Libra in between Virgo and Scorpio because they were too much alike and it’s so true lol. Both signs can be so compulsive and it’s overwhelming from what I’ve heard from Virgo and Scorpio placements. I can also see this easy going equivalence being the case for Sagittarius being in between Scorpio and Capricorn. The benefics happy go luckies in between the malefics drained and over it.

🌾… moon 3rd house overlay is addictive especially combined with 7th/8th/12th overlays in that synastry. I don’t think I can ever do that again unless we both have it overlaying each others charts. Someone’s moon in your 3rd house, their mind fascinates you and it’s easy to communicate with them you feel seen and heard. You dream about them, you think about them all the freaking time. It is the most annoying thing because why are you taking up my brain space like that bro? I had this with someone and I still think about them it’s been over for quite some time now. Another person that’s in love with me, my moon falls into their 3rd house and they tell me how much they think about me and day dream about me. I had said issue of daydreaming with the other guy. 2/10 would not recommend unless moon person is developed.

🌿 When the moon transits your first house you’re more likely to be more emotional and make drastic changes to your physical features! When Doja Cat shaved her head the moon was transiting her first house and I literally did mine the next day when it was transiting my first house.

🌾 Opinion but I love Pisces placements they are so helpful and loving when developed. I think the underdeveloped ones are too but they expect something out of it where the developed ones are just really selfless. I’m a Pisces Stan! I have so many in my life lol I have no Pisces placements. My 5H is in Pisces lol

🌿 Degree theory is that gworl. It helps you relate to the planet and it’s placement more depending on what the degree rules. For example I was dating a Sagittarius Venus in the 9th house at the 9° and he embodied that free spirited nature of Sag Venus fr. Another example, you can be a Pisces Venus but it’s in your first house at the first degree and the way you love embodies a more aries way of loving. Fiery, passionate a bit aggressive but very deep and tender to the core.

🌾 I’ve also heard the theory of when you reach the age of certain degrees of the placements you have you unlock that placements characteristics. Something significant happens to you during that age or you might master that placement regarding the planet and house placement.

🌿 The degree of your rising sign is more than likely the age of something significant happen in your physical life/to you physically. This is tea y’all.

🌾 You most likely share placements or degrees in your chart with your siblings. My sister is a Scorpio sun, Aries rising, Virgo moon and I’m a Libra sun, Scorpio rising, Aries moon. If I was born two days earlier I would’ve been a Virgo sun and if she was born one or two days later she would’ve been a Libra moon. So I think thats pretty cool. We’re also both Venus dominant and she has a Libra stellium 💗. You really choose your family for your next life lol like that’s so crazy to me.

🌿 Ima say dis with my chest. STOP doing wrong by Saturn ruled placements!!! Saturn is ruled by Capricorn, Aquarius in traditional astrology and we cannot forget about its exalted sign in Libra. As a Libra, I receive karma with the quickness but also people that have done wrong by me their quality of life decreases and or whichever house Saturn is in their chart is deeply affected in the worst ways.. daddy Saturn don’t play bout his! Be fair and follow the golden rule. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.”

🌾 Having heavy Sagittarius placements in your chart makes you open to learn different languages or different cultures.. just always wanting to learn. Whatever house it’s in you want to master in life.

🌿 The mutables Gemini Virgo Sagittarius Pisces love their niches, they are the teachers and preachers of the zodiac.

🌾 Geminis have the gift of gab more than any other zodiac. Sagittarius could possibly go toe to toe with them

🌿 If anyone ever tries to degrade you for studying astrology and eggs you on to prove this practice to be true, get their birth info and read them their Chiron sign and house placement. Hit ‘em where it hurts!

🌾 Scorpio and Libra placements are usually the generational trauma breakers of their family. Honorable mention- Saturns children, Capricorn and Aquarius

🌿 An undeveloped Capricorn placement that enters your life is literally satan reincarnated to torture you for whatever you did wrong in your past life. And I (if u were raised around Christianity) believe Jesus was a Pisces/Aries! I can argue about this all day! In tarot Capricorn rules the devil! Like hellooooo

🌾 Sixth house/Virgo placements are pretty good at taking care of pets and plants. They feel the most sane around nature and animals.

🌿 Personal planets harmoniously aspected to Neptune make the person seem very angelic like. Very soft souls, earth angels. Hard aspects have people having an even more distorted projection of you.

🌾 Personal planets harmoniously aspected or not to Uranus gives you that shock factor some people will be repelled and some people will be very intrigued.

🌿 Aries placements especially sun and moon are really loyal! I’m talking mostly platonically. Once they see you as their person they are truly ride or die.

🌾 Cancer placements can be one of the most loving and giving when developed. Some spiteful mfs when underdeveloped omg.

🌿 I realize cancer placement women get treated with the cutest romantic gestures. I think they lovers want to do these things for them because they give off ethereal or princess vibes but they’re also real nasty in the sheets lol

🌾 Cancers don’t really get a bad rep even when they do shady things. For example: Selena Gomez when she dated Abel even tho she was cool with Bella was super weird. And I think a lot of people forgot how Kevin hart cheated on his wife like it was nothing lol. Ariana grande with the donuts and now the Ethan thing chileee. It’s like they get a second of backlash and then everyone adores them again lol.

🌿 Having a grand trine in your chart can make you so damn lazy in the houses those planets/figures are in 🥹🥲. It’s crazy cuz that talent(s) will come natural to you and you’ll over look it! Please don’t.

🌾 Grand squares are TOUGH but it pushes you to break cycles and overcome so much in your life. Same with t-squares

🌱 Astrology is really a map. It shows you which path you can take and where you can end up when you include discernment and discipline into your daily life. It’s never an excuse to behave the way you do. Ultimately it helps us reach our most aligned and enlighten self! I hope you all enjoyed. 🌱

Idk why I can’t figure out how to delete this question thing so let’s do a cute lil questionnaire!

[theostrophywife]

Hii! Az fluff request here.

I was thinking of the inner circle being out having dinner somewhere and the reader is exhausted. Az notices it and moves his arm for her to lean on him and she falls asleep there, head in az’s arm. Az being all cute w her in front of the inner circle. Or something like that!

Love your writing!!

wake me up.

author’s note: wake up babes it’s time to yearn. this drabble is brought to you by this song.

the shadowsinger could tell that you’d had a long day, but he didn’t realize how exhausted you were until you almost placed the chocolate cake in the sink instead of the dirty dishes. azriel took the dessert tray from your hands and handed you the dishes instead in one smooth move.

you blinked in surprise. “oh, thanks az. soggy cake would’ve made a horrible dessert.”

azriel frowned in concern. “you look exhausted. when’s the last time you slept?”

you wiped your soapy hands on the front of your apron. “always great to hear that i look haggard and tired.”

az’s eyes widened. “i didn’t mean— you always look great — i just…”

the soft little chuckle that fell from your lips instantly relaxed the shadowsinger. “i’m just messing with you, az.” you smoothed down the worried frown lines on his forehead. “don’t worry about little old me. it’s just been a long day, that’s all.”

“if you want to head upstairs and rest, i can finish cleaning up here. the others won’t mind.”

you stubbornly shook your head. “are you kidding? i’m not missing game night. the last time we played poker cas got so mad he flipped a table and got put in time out. it’s worth losing sleep over.” sidestepping the shadowsinger, you finished washing the rest of the dishes. you could’ve easily used your powers, but cleaning always made you feel accomplished. besides, it gave you an excuse to be alone with azriel for a little while longer.

“are you sure? i just don’t want you missing any sleep.”

as you racked the plates, you couldn’t help but smile. this was so typically azriel. always looking out for his friends. “you’re sweet to worry, but really, i’m fine az. now let’s go kick some ass at poker.”

halfway through the game, the shadowsinger was convinced that he should’ve insisted on marching you straight to bed. you were barely keeping your eyes open, yawning every now and then while stubbornly stating that you weren’t even a tiny bit tired.

as expected, the poker game had turned heated fairly quickly. cas and rhys were arguing about some trivial rule, while their mates sighed exasperatedly. mor and amren had completely abandoned their cards all together, choosing to drink their weight in wine instead. despite his brothers argument, the only one close to winning was lucien who winked at elain from across the table. his mate blushed and smiled back before turning her attention to azriel.

she nodded in your direction, slumped form currently growing sleepier by the second. elain patted her shoulder, signaling to the shadowsinger. azriel got the hint and scooted closer to you.

“looks like this game isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.” the shadowsinger set his cards down and moved his arm over the back of the sofa. “you might wanna settle in, this might take a while.”

you watched through bleary eyes as cassian angrily waved his deck in rhysand’s face. the high lord looked affronted, which made you snort in amusement. those two were worse than children.

you yawned once again. “okay, but only for a little bit.” azriel nodded as you curled against him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“finally,” lucien mouthed.

azriel glared at him, which only caused the redhead to smirk. elain elbowed him, but there was a quirk to her mouth that told azriel that she obviously agreed. luckily, you were too sleepy to notice the exchange with the meddlesome couple.

“promise you’ll wake me up, az?” you asked as azriel stroked your hair.

“i promise.”

he’d wake you up eventually. he just didn’t specify when.

within minutes, you were fast asleep on his shoulder. azriel pulled the blanket over you, making sure that you were comfortable and undisturbed. the shadowsinger rubbed circles against your back, lulling you into deeper sleep. you looked so peaceful in his arms. he was so engrossed in you that he didn’t even notice that the whole room had gone quiet.

“well, aren’t you two adorable?” rhys said with a smirk. at some point, him and cassian had stopped arguing and focused their attention on the shadowsinger instead.

“you never hold me like that nes.” cassian teased with a pout.

“that’s because you snore loud enough to wake up the whole damn house,” scoffed nesta. “plus, you drool in your sleep.”

cassian gasped in feigned outrage. the shadowsinger shushed him. “not so loud, cas. you’ll wake y/n up.”

“rhys is right, you know.” feyre whispered. “you two are so cute together.”

“it’s about time you do something about it, shadowsinger.” amren said pointedly.

“it’s obvious that you two have chemistry together,” mor added. “you should ask her out on a date. not your little “just friends” picnics. i mean a real date, like dinner and a nice restaurant and candles and everything. oh my gods, i’ll have to help her pick out a dress!”

“that’s a great idea, mor.” feyre agreed excitedly. “we can all go shopping together.”

elain clapped. “i can put together a bouquet for you! y/n adores roses. especially the ones from my garden.”

“name the place and i’ll handle the reservations, brother.” rhysand offered.

“you’ll have to take her to that new gelato place, too.” lucien suggested. “she’s been raving about it for days.”

azriel rubbed his temples as his friends planned out this hypothetical date that he apparently got no say in. the shadowsinger knew they meant well, but if he was going to take you out, he’d do it on his own terms. plus, it’s not like he’d been thinking about your first date for months now. agonizing, was more like it. everything was planned right down to the last detail.

he just had to suck it up and actually ask.

“thank you for the unsolicited advice,” azriel said dryly. “but i think i’ve got it.”

the shadowsinger lifted you up with ease and walked out of the living room, leaving the rest of his friends to their own devices. he quietly made his way up the stairs, taking great care not to wake you. azriel paused on the top step as you stirred in his arms.

“az?” you murmured softly. it was so quiet he thought he’d imagined it.

“yeah?”

you cuddled against his chest, curling your arms around his neck. “promise you’ll ask when i wake up?”

azriel’s heart stopped for a second. then, sunlight filled his veins as you smiled sleepily up at him. he leaned down and kissed your forehead.

“i promise, y/n.”

[totalswag]

dinner and sunsets — DREW STARKEY

authors note first off, thank you all so much for the love on my last two fics. writing this took me a few days and i wrote over 2k words too. i hope y’all enjoy reading. feedback is always appreciated <3

summary drew has been gone filming his upcoming movie in Italy for a few months. you make the decision to fly out to surprise him with your three month old daughter.

warnings none just a bunch of cuteness of dad!drew with baby his baby girl.

Drew has been filming in Europe for quite some time now. When he first left it was extremely hard because you guys are usually together. Tears were falling from your faces dropping him off at the airport. In all seriousness, you couldn’t be more proud of him and all his accomplishments he’s done to get where he’s at now in career.

Leaving was hard for Drew because he was leaving you and your four month old daughter, Tatum, home while he’s thousands of miles away. You knew you would come visit him and see what Europe is like. So, that’s what you did. The plane ride was long but it was worth it the moment you made it to Italy. 

For the most part Tatum did a good job before and during the flight. There were moments where she would fuss and cry but settled down once you calmed her down. In other words, flying with a baby isn’t easy. 

Drew’s manager and you have been texting back and forth about the whole thing. When you got to Drew’s apartment he’s been living in, you were in complete awe when you walked into his bedroom where a picture of Tatum and you were placed on his night stand. His manager said that he would be coming back in an hour once they are done filming for the day.

Tatum laid on her back kicking her feet like all over the place and making a bunch of noise while you unpacked your clothes. Tatum was a spitting image of Drew especially in the eyes and especially the facial expressions she makes. She continues to grow by the day, you wish time didn’t fly by so fast.

“Are you excited to see daddy?” grabbing both her tiny feet, moving them up and down, making her giggle at your gesture. 

An hour passes, Tatum’s sleeping, and you are on your computer looking up stuff. You look up from your computer to your phone, Drew should be here any minute, you thought. Taking your phone, placing it towards the door to get Drew’s reaction, and hitting record when you heard the front door open. Surprisingly Tatum didn’t wake up from his walking inside.

Footsteps slowly made their way towards the bedroom. Your heart is beating at a rapid pace as he gets closer to his room. Taking a seat by the edge of the bed, placing both hands on your lap. Drew’s on his phone typing when he enters the room, you playfully roll your eyes, clearing your throat to grab his attention.

He looks up from his phone quickly.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me” his face lit up once he saw his two beautiful girls on his bed waiting for him. He puts his phone in his pocket, opening his arms. 

“Hi baby” you run into his arms, “i missed you so fucking much” you whispered softly.

“I miss you guys so much, you have no idea” he explains, placing both hands on your cheeks, and kissing you on the lips. Fireworks exploding in your stomach as your lips touch.

You let Drew pull away first. You guys just stare at each other, not saying a word. He wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. You don’t know what you would do without him in your life. 

Drew goes to open his mouth but is interrupted by Tatum yawning; you let out a chuckle when he shuts his mouth then grins, looking at Tatum who’s opening her eyes.

“My little angel is up from her nap, huh?” he coo’s with the biggest smile. You see a smile creep up Tatum's mouth from her dad’s words. She gets a little too excited and starts moving her body – she usually gets like this with Drew.

He picks her up, placing her on his hip, and kissing the top of her head. The bond they share is unbelievable. From the moment Drew held Tatum in his arms you knew they were meant for each other. Before you got pregnant all Drew would talk about was he wanted a girl for his first child and when he found out, he couldn’t stop crying. 

He was so relieved to see you both. Every text, facetime, and phone call, he always mentioned how much he misses his girls and wishes you were here. Now he has you both, he feels complete and so do you.

“When did you guys get in?” he asks.

“About two hours ago. She slept for most of the time and I took a little nap too” you explain, taking the last set of clothing from your suitcase.

“How long are you staying?” He says without hesitation.

“A month” you said dragging the th at the end.

His jaw drops.

“This is the happiest day of my life.”

“I’m glad you got here safe though. I think we should stay in for the rest of the day and relax since my two beautiful girls had a very long flight to see daddy” Drew exclaims while making eye contact with Tatum, lightly tickling her with his right pointer finger. Little giggles left her mouth.

“Sounds like a good idea to me” you smile, admiring the two. 

Two days go by, Italy is so beautiful. You don’t want to leave this place. Drew brought you and Tatum on set to watch him film a few scenes and meet the cast. Going to the museum was one of your favorite things to do as a family and especially looking around the markets with all the fresh fruits and vegetables then buying them afterwards.

Spending time as a family makes your heart full.

Drew wanted to take you out to this amazing restaurant he went to with a few cast members one of the first weeks he arrived. He wasn’t kidding when he said the pasta was to die for. The service was great, pasta tasted delicious, and the wine was unbelievable. 

The sunset looked absolutely stunning from your perspective. With the music playing in the background and lights made the experience feel magical. You grabbed your phone from your purse, taking a couple pictures.

You told him what life’s been like back home – you’ve been busy with work, hanging out with friends, planting flowers in front of the house, and taking care of Tatum obviously. 

Drew talked about filming and how it’s been going for the last few months. One of the things he said that stood out the most is how proud he is of himself for coming this far and never giving up. Actually tears started to build in your eyes. 

“Baby, you saying that makes me so happy because you’ve gone through so much in your career. This job you have right now is huge for you and the fact you got the role is even a bigger accomplishment” you say with joy.

“Thank you baby, that means a lot to me”, taking a hold of your hand, gently squeezing it.

After Drew paid for dinner, he insisted you guys take a walk around for a bit and you agreed. The weather felt nice with the breeze.

Drew pushed the stroller with Tatum in her car seat playing with her toys— she started putting one of them in her mouth and talking to herself in her own baby language. It caught Drew and you off guard.

After dinner you guys decided to walk around the area and try to get Tatum to close her eyes. Since you are staying for a month, you want her to get used to the time change. You guys walked into a shop with a bunch of snacks; you couldn’t take your eyes off the varieties of different snacks which aren’t like the snacks in the states.

Picking out a few snacks that caught your eye and bringing it to the cashier. Drew recommended these chips he really likes.

“Should we walk around more or start making our way to the apartment” you suggested, putting the bag with the snacks under the stroller. 

He thinks for a second, scrunching his eyebrows together, “let’s walk around.”

“I can’t believe you are staying for a month with me” Drew beamed, placing a kiss on your head then softly patting your lower back.

“I can’t believe it either. Flying with a three month old definitely is not easy but this will be an amazing month with my husband and our baby girl where we’ll make memories that will last for a lifetime” you say with honesty in your voice. You meant every word you said too.

Drew called his manager that you guys were ready to be picked up and where you guys were waiting. Tatum started to get fussy in her carseat– she was uncomfortable in the position she’s been in for thirty minutes. 

When she sees Drew reaching in to unbuckle her she calms down instantly. She lets out a dramatic sigh making Drew and you laugh.

You bring your hand up to Tatum’s face, gently brushing your thumb across her cheek like you always do when admiring her cute face. As your thumb touches her cheek, she shyly turns her head into Drew’s chest.

You were about to say something about how cute they look but were interrupted by Drew's name being called from a group of girls across the street catching your guys attention right away. Since you arrived in Italy a few fans have asked for a picture with Drew or you.

Drew waves the girls over, they squeal when he acknowledges them. They introduced themselves the second they stood in front of you three. Tatum’s face went from happy to why is there a group of girls in front of me. 

When the girls saw Tatum they all said aww and complimented her outfit you picked out for her tonight. Fans don’t always get to see Tatum out like this but when they do, you guys kindly ask them to not take video or pictures of her.

“Can we please get a picture please?” one of the young girls asked nervously. 

“Of course we can, Y/N can you take her” you nod, taking her in your arms.

You held Tatum in your arms while Drew talked with his fans. They were so sweet and respectful the whole time. They started asking you questions about how the trips have been and what it’s like being a mom. 

Ten minutes later, Drew’s manager pulls up behind the girls. He gives them one last hug before parting ways with them. You could tell by the look on their faces that they didn’t want to say goodbye, that made your heart break. Tatum was already strapped in her carseat when he walked over to put her in the middle seat.

The drive back to the apartment wasn’t bad. When you walked into the apartment you guys made your way towards the bedroom. Only thing on your mind was taking a shower. Drew stayed with Tatum while you freshened up then showered after you. Tatum was able to get her bath in like she usually does. 

Drew gave her a bath while you did your skin care, brushed your teeth, and put lotion on. Giggles from Tatum filled the bathroom while you were in the middle of washing your face. You walked out of the bedroom to the washer to wash your towels then back to the party in the bathroom

You could hear Drew talking to Tatum as you got closer to the room. You stop your tracks when you enter the room, leaning against the wall, listening to Drew talking.

“You are the cutest baby on this earth” you can imagine the smile on his face as said those words. “You even have your moms beautiful smile too. You are lucky to call her your mommy. I’m so lucky to have you both in my life.”

Your hand lands on your mouth. Why does he have to be so sweet all the time? 

His head turns when he hears you walk in. He smiles at you as you lean down, giving him a kiss on the lips. He pulls away but you grab his face kissing him again. 

“I love you, you know that” whispering in his ear. “I know and I hope you know I love you more.” 

When you put your attention on Tatum, she had the biggest smile on her face when she splashed everywhere; her little legs and arms moving fast. Drew couldn't help but laugh at his daughter enjoying her bath. She loves getting her hair washed, she does this face where she closes her eyes and puts both hands in a fist and does this look like she’s in heaven. She has a lot of hair too.

“Are you enjoying your bath? It looks like you are having a grand old time” Drew says in his baby voice, gently washing Tatums hair. She replies in her baby gibberish then brings her right hand to his wrist, gripping on it. She’s never done this before.

You both gasps, turning your heads making eye contact. The look on his face says it all. You scoot closer, laying your head on his shoulder. 

Once you were all settled for bed, Drew and you made your way to the bed. You breastfed Tatum till she fell asleep then handed her to Drew and had her on his chest while burping her with you laying by his side. 

Inside Drew felt complete with you here with him after being away for a few months. Having his baby girl on his chest and the love of his life lying next to him makes him smile in the moment.

Spending a month in Italy seems like it’s going to be filled with love and memories.

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[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 43

part 1 | part 42 | ao3

cw: references to sex, post-coital sad boy feelings but it’s comforting i hope, once again swirling the religious drain

“You look like you just saw God,” Eddie says fondly as he pulls his fingers out.

“Pretty sure I am God,” Steve mumbles, winded and floating, watching the stars in his vision skitter across the ceiling in pretty popping swirls of white. His ass still feels full, phantom ache of Eddie's fingers. They live there now. “Or maybe you are, I don’t know.”

Eddie leans down to plant a firm kiss on his lips, sure and steady, overflowing with affection.

Steve’s heart is gonna pump so hard it bursts.

“Well,” Eddie murmurs into the kiss. “Amen to that.”

Later, after Eddie adds his own mess to Steve's skin, after he kisses him all over and cleans him up and lays them down on their sides, face to face like they were that first night — in the morning; if you still mean it, ask me then — Steve dares to break the silence. Murmurs "hey" so quietly he's not sure Eddie will hear.

"Hmm?" Eddie props his head up on his hand, giving Steve the full attention of those big, dark eyes.

"I, uh, I just wanted to say thanks."

Eddie's brows waggle suggestively.

“Oh, my god.” Steve gives him a weak shove, tapping lightly at his shoulder, and Eddie flops onto his back like he's been struck; groans like he’s dying and then rolls back up with a gentle laugh. “Well,” Steve rolls his eyes like he isn't smiling, too, "for that, too, I guess."

"He guesses.”

"Shut up. I'm trying to be sincere."

Eddie twists an invisible lock; seals his smiling lips shut and throws away the key.

"I just..."

He can do this.

He can. If Eddie hasn't judged him yet, then...

"I like that you. Y'know. You ask me. About stuff." Eddie hums in question, so Steve clarifies: "You pry." Shit. That was rude. "Not that it's prying if I want you to! That's not— that's not even really the word I'm thinking of. Or maybe it is, but, like, not the right conno- commo—"

Jesus.

Why can't his mouth ever just cooperate?

Eddie strokes a soothing hand down his side, letting it settle in the dip of his waist. Silent, steady encouragement. Patient and warm; always so gentle with him.

When Steve speaks again he stares directly at Eddie's chin, lets the words spill out on a muted mumble, like if he says them low and soft and fast enough then maybe god won't hear. "I just mean that you- you actually listen. I know I'm not the most, like, open about talking about my feelings and shit, but most people in my life are— well, I mean, most of them are kids, so that's probably part of it, but…”

He takes a deep breath; feels it rattle behind his ribs. “It’s like I say 'I'm fine' and they hear 'Steve's fine.' Like, 'Oh, Steve? Yeah, he's fine; he's totally fine. He got hit in the head again, but he's fucking fine.'"

There’s salt in his throat.

He swallows around the angry lump swelling there — a wasp nest in his soft tissues and he's swinging blindly with a bat — but he can’t stop now, the confession already pouring from between his trembling lips. "It just makes me wonder, like, am I that good of an actor? Or do they all just hear what the want to hear? You know? Like- like maybe I'm not worth the effort; maybe no one wants to lift the lid to clean the mold growing under it, or..."

He sniffs pitifully, can hardly see for the fresh tears. "I don't know. I don’t know."

“Baby.” Eddie's eyes are heartbreaking; Steve looks away again.

"I just like that you see me,” he confesses to Eddie’s shirt. “You listen. You care."

Eddie’s arms tighten around him; draw him in against his chest. “For as long as you want me to, baby, I swear.”

—

It’s easier, after that. Feels lighter; feels right when he spends his free time at Eddie’s side, laughing and smoking and fucking around; playing passenger princess as he goes to make his deals. Take on Me’s playing on the radio, and Steve looks over and sees him subtly bobbing his head to the beat.

“A-ha!” he says, pointing a Cheeto at him in triumph. “It’s catchy; admit it.”

Eddie rolls his eyes like he isn’t actively drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “Only because it’s designed to be, you little preppy pop prince fucker.”

“Hey!” Steve throws the Cheeto at his hair and laughs, “Fuck you!”

“Careful there, tiger,” Eddie answers with an easy grin, leaning over to squeeze Steve’s leg suggestively. Bearing down on the scratch marks he left there last night. “Might get what you ask for.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve quips. “Gonna fuck yourself for me?”

It’s bratty. Steve knows it; resists the urge to stick out his tongue.

A muscle ticks in Eddie’s jaw. “Gonna fuckin’ fuck something,” he mutters darkly to the windshield, and Steve laughs and sings along to the next verse.

—

part 44

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Overprotective PT 2

-9th member

Warning: arguing, angst?

Pairing: Skz x 9th member

Thank you so much for the request!! Hope you enjoy the story yeah! :) last part comes out soon.

-🩷

**

I had received a call right after Chan had left the room. He decided he wanted to watch a few YouTube videos and spend time with me because in his words “Your growing up so fast Y/nie!” Then he proceeded to kiss my all over my face and tease me.

Anyways once he had left to go to bed making sure to yell 3000 plus times to everyone to make sure their packed and that their in bed asleep because

“I’m not going to be traveling with cranky and annoying grown ass kids!”

I had received a call from Connor. Connor? Why was Connor calling me at 10 in the night?

“Hey Connor!” I say into the phone surprised to see his name pop up.

“Hey Y/n! How are you?” He asks through the phone.

“Umm I’m alright and you? How are you doing?”

“I’m doing good! I haven’t talked to you in a while,”

“Yeah I’ve been so busy with schedules and shows, I’m sorry.” I genuinely say because I had indeed been lacking when it came to communicating with people back home just because I was terribly busy.

“Oh no need to be sorry! I’m so proud of you love. Anyways you might me wondering why I’m calling right now but…I have a suprise for you!” I hear the excitement in his voice.

“Oh really? A surprise?” I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. “Is everything okay back home?”

“Yes yes yes, no need to worry but…geuss who’s in town!”

I frown not knowing, “Who?”

“Me silly!” A gasp leaves me grasping for air.

“Oh what?! Shut the front door right now!” I sit up in bed almost being knocked over by the shock and surprise that had run through my body.

“Yes, yes I got here in the morning and at first I thought I would surprise you but I read online that you have a show in two days meaning you’re leaving.”

“Yeah I leave tomorrow morning Connor.” I frown, “will I not find you when I get back?”

“No I’m sorry but we can meet up right now?” He suggests.

I sigh and look at the book that was in my lap. “I don’t think I can-“

I remember the lecture Chan and leeknow gave me. I really did not want to get into trouble but I really wanted to see Connor. Was it worth it? I mean…it wasn’t the concert I was sneaking out for so technically I’m not breaking rules…

“Oh come on Y/n! I haven’t seen you in four years! Please!”

“Ugh fine, I’ll meet you in 30” I finally give in.

“Okay great! Should we meet at the ice cream place by my hotel?” I hear some shuffling going on through the phone. He was probably doing something.

“Yeah just text me the details yeah?”

“Yeah sure, oh and Y/n..” he stops and takes a deep breath making me feel a-bit nervous.

“Yes Connor” I pause and wait for him to talk.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too Connor.” A big smile played on my lips. I hear him chuckle before saying a quick

“Okay see ya!” And hanging up the phone.

The butterflies start to form in my stomach. Was it the fact that I was about to sneak out the house or the fact that I was going to see one of my long time bestfriends after 4 years?

I think it was the fact that I was about to jump out my window and could potentially get caught and hanged by Chan or Han or Leeknow or Changbin or Seungmin.

I had to do it though. ‘Do it for the plot’ was my motto and it kept running through my mind as I quietly get out of bed and walk over to my closet. I pick out a cute little baby blue party dress and grab my airforces making sure not to wear them yet.

“God I know this is wrong and I know you’re probably going to punish me for going against Chan’s will but please take me and bring me back home without getting caught!” I whisper a small prayer while pulling up the window and opening it wide.

I throw my shoes out and grab my jacket before slowly jumping out the window and landing on the balcony then quietly climbing down making sure I didn’t make a sound.

“Oh shit!” I duck down when I land outside Hyunjin’s window. He was listening to music on his headphones while painting some type of picture so he didn’t quite see me.

Close one.

I crawl under his window and quickly put on my shoes and jacket when I’m out of his sight.

“Now where can I catch a cab at this hour?” I quietly exclaim and smack my forehead. I was crouched down and thinking of ways to grab a cab without possibly getting kidnapped.

Luckily our dorms weren’t so far away from the actual busy streets. So making sure no one could see me from any point of the house, I quickly run down the dark road begging that I didn’t hear anyone calling my name as I flee.

“Taxi!” I called while panting trying to catch my breathe. The man stops and I get in )tired obviously from all the running) telling him where to go, giving him the address.

It was a 15 minute ride and when we pulled up.

The night was cold it was no doubt and looking forward at the dash board of the car the time read “11:59”

It was late. Very late to be out alone.

“Thank you so much,” I say and pay the guy. I quickly make my way to the tiny shops that were on the road, spotting the ice cream shop straight away.

It was cute and had booths. It was decorated like any other normal ice cream shop but it felt more like a cute hangout spot to chill.

Once I walked in I say a quick hello to the lady sitting by the cash register. Her eyes go wide. She probably had noticed me but she didn’t bother to say anything probably scared that she might freak me out I guess.

I stood in the middle of the shop looking for Connor,

“Hey Y/n!” I hear my name being called. I turn to see a familiar face except it wasn’t so familiar.

“Oh my God Connor?! You’ve changed so much!” I run and give him a big hug literally climbing on him as he laughed and caught me.

“Well what can I say, 4 years can do a lot to a man. Oh and puberty!” He jokes.

“Oh my God I can’t believe you’re here! I’ve missed you so much!” I squeal at his presence.

“I’ve missed you too! How have you been? We have so much to catch up on! Come on!”

He grabs my hand and we walk over to a corner and sit in the booth. He calls the waiter and we order milkshakes and some ice cream.

“So…you’re like an idol now,” he pokes my shoulder from across the table causing me to blush. My hands automatically hiding my face in shame.

“Yeah yeah I geuss I geuss” I shrug it off like it’s not a big deal.

“How’s it like?” He asks curiously. I start to explain to him the many things we do and his intrigued and interested in everything. He keeps asking questions and occasionally I would ask him questions as well making our conversation so interesting going back and forth.

Once we were done with the ice cream and catching up I take a quick glance at my phone and fuck.

3:15 am.

“Oh my, it’s so late. I should start heading to the dorms.” I tell Connor who looked like he was ready to go aswell.

“Here let me pay,” I grab my company card and he pushes it away.

“My treat for coming to see me yeah?” He smiles and I couldn’t help to feel warmth feel my chest. I missed him. I missed home. I missed my parents. I missed my friends.

“Hey, why the frown? We just had the best night ever.” His hand was around me as we walk down the road. His body slowly warming mine.

He had insisted to make sure I got home safe meaning he wanted to make sure I got a cab when he was watching.

“Just a little homesick, that’s all.” I sigh while kicking the rock that was in-front of me.

“Hey, don’t be. It might feel a little depressing but everyone at home is rooting for you. We can’t wait for the show next month! We’ve all got our tickets.”

He nudges my shoulder causing me to giggle a little.

“Thank you for tonight Connor, I can’t wait to see you again.” I tell him once we finally get a cab.

“I can’t wait to see you again yeah? Make sure to call and text whenever you can.” He looks me in my eyes and for a moment the world goes slow. Our bodies were now against eachother.

His body towered over me as he slowly leaned in. I tiptoe to make our lips connect. My body melts into his. I wanted this so bad. I wanted him to stay. I wanted him to be here longer.

This was wrong but it felt so right.

My idol senses were tingling. Something was wrong but I didn’t care. I needed this. I needed to feel something. I needed to feel like a normal person again not a robot.

We finally pull away and he clears his throat and rubs the back of his neck.

“Well…that happened.”

His cheeks were dark red and I knew I wasn’t any better.

“It did.” I softly say and bite my lip.

“Yah! are you coming or not?!” The Cab guy says causing me to jump and laugh.

“Okay bye Connor! Foreal this time.”

“Bye y/n!” We hug one last time before I get into the cab and make my way home.

I watch as he slowly turns and starts to head back to his hotel. I could finally sit down and process the night.

You know that feeling when you get away with something? It feels like you’re on top of the world.

I was on top of the world! I felt nothing could stop me.

I even felt more confident when I crawled past Hyunjin’s room and all the lights were off because he was asleep. I was able to climb up my balcony and get back into the room.

Everything looked exactly like how I had I left it. So I quickly undress and wear whatever I wore when Chan last saw me and unlocked my door just incase anyone wanted to come into my room in the morning.

I was so tired. I needed sleep and what bothered me was the fact that I had to be awake in 4 hours. Getting into bed and closing my eyes only to be waken up by trouble.

*

A loud knock on my door is what woke me up.

It was loud and it wouldn’t stop being loud.

“Ughh what time is it?” I groan and turn on my phone to see it was only 6 am.

Who was at my door at 6 am? We leave at 8! Ugh!

I groggily get out of bed and out on my slipper.

I was trying to rub the sleep out of my eyes when I open the door I find a very furious Han standing outside. He was in his pajamas and he had his phone in his hand.

“Y/n Y/l/n You are in so much trouble young lady!”

I stare at him trying to remember what I could have possibly did to him. Did I eat one of his meals? Did I use on of his skin care stuff? Did he know I snuck out? He couldn’t have cause if Han knew the whole house would know.

I look behind him and gulp when I notice Hyunjin standing behind him aswell, obviously not pleased by whatever it is I had done.

Both of them had messy hair and were in sweatpants and shirts that were a bit wrinkled.

“See you even look guilty!” Hyunjin says while crossing his arms and giving me a death stare.

“What is it Han and Hyunjin it’s 6 in the morning.” I whine. “What could possibly be so important? What did I do?” I play it off. If I got them to tell me what I did first I wouldn’t have to confess to anything but still the guilt was eating me up.

“You snuck out last night didn’t you.” He cuts me out

My heart drops. My body freezes and I feel my brain stop working. My body was cold. I felt like I was about to piss myself but I was not going to allow them to catch me.

“What no I didn’t, I was in bed, sleeping, ask Chan,“ I simply say and they both scoff at this. Now I was starting to really get worried. How did they know? I was so quiet? Even Hyunjin’s room was all dark last night, I saw him sleeping with my two eyes! How is it possible.

“If you were really sleeping in your room what’s this?” Han says. I gulp the saliva that was refusing to go down my throat due to shock.

He pulls out his phone and shows me an article.

An article of me? I squint to read it.

Busted.

Think of a lie Y/n…think of a fucking lie!!

“What? What’s that’s not me!” I exclaim trying to play it cool.

“Stray kids Y/n, caught out last night with a boy kissing. Y/n are you joking right now. Kissing?!” He read from his phone. I gulp once again and stew at both of them.

“Do you know how much trouble you could get into young lady? Your career could be over!” Hyunjin growls and grabs the phone out of Han’s ham to read the article further.

“Hey, I’m trying to sleep in here what’s going on?” Changbin comes out of his room also rubbing his eyes.

Oh no. Not Changbin.

I look at the two boys that are standing infront of me and I give them the best puppy eyes I could think of. Begging them not to say anything without actually telling them.

“Guess what Bin,” Han rolls his eyes at me and furrows his eyebrows in anger.

“Han please don’t tell-“

“Geuss who was with a fucking boy last night kissing and everything?!” Han exclaims and turns to Changbin.

“What? What are you taking about?” He says before Han hands him the phone and he gasps looking at me.

His eyes now wide awake. His body posture up and alert.

“Y/n!” He shouts causing me to jump a little. “Y/n what the fuck is this?!” He yells.

“I can explain, they- I- okay-“ I start to stumble on my words.

He stares at me blankly before turning to Chan’s room and knocking. Really loudly.

“Chan!” He calls for Chan and I swear I wanted to disappear. It felt like I was going to be hanged if I did not run but it would be worse if I did run.

“No no no please don’t tell him Changbin.” I beg running to his side trying to stop him.

My heart was beating really fast and my hands shakes against his as I tried to pull him away.

“Are you serious?” Han asks looking at me trying to beg for my life.

“Bangchan!” Changbin calls again. Ignoring me and my begs.

Hyunjin and Han just both stand over on the other end and glaring at me. Probably wondering the many ways they were going to punish me.

I give up and let of his hand taking the looks they gave me as a warning not to make things worse.

“I’m so disappointed in you Y/n” he shakes his head and scoffs.

I look at my feet and shift uncomfortably.

“What is all of this commotion? We don’t leave in another two hours..” Felix groans getting out of his room.

“I was in my room scrolling through my feed and geuss what I found.” Hyunjin explains to Felix.

“What? It better be important because-“ he looks at the phone then gasps in shock. Great. “Is that actually Y/n?!” He asks looking at all of us.

“Yes it is and she was kissing I’m still stuck at the kissing part!” Han throws his hands in the air and starts walking back and forth.

“Who was kissing?” Seungmin asks joining the conversation walking up the stairs with tea in his hands. I cover my face in embarrassment.

“Yah! Will all of you shut up!” Leeknow walks out of the theatre with a blanket in his hands.

“Oh Hyung you should see what your amazing little princess was doing last night,”

I stand in shame as Felix passes him the phone. I could literally feel the slaps coming my way. (Not literally) but the fact that leeknow was processing the information and squinting his eyes.

He even dropped the blanket out his hand. His jaw left opened.

“Yes Binnie. You called?” The last door opens revealing Chan shirtless with long sweats on and his hair in a mess.

“Are you kidding me?…Are you fucking kidding me? I told you not to do one thing! One fucking thing-“

“Woah woah woah what’s going on? What did Y/n do? Why is everyone outside yelling? And why aren’t people getting ready for the flight?” Chan quickly interrupts Leeknow’s loud voice.

“Look Chan, just look. I can’t even deal with this right now.” Leeknow passes Chan the phone.

He stands there looking like he saw a ghost. He stands there for a long time. He stands there hands shaking trying to probably get words for me.

“Unbelievable behavior,” Changbin says. “Why do you not listen?”

I stand in the middle of everyone quiet. Not daring to speak knowing whatever I said would probably get me in more trouble. I wanted to cry.

I wanted to cry so bad but I couldn’t. It hadn’t yet hit me that I was now probably trending on every site.

“Y/n?” His soft voice stops the ugly thoughts running through my head.

I keep quiet and look at the floor refusing to look at him.

“Every-body into their rooms now and get ready for the flight. I’ll deal with this later.” He sighs while handing Han the phone.

That was bad. That was really Bad. If he wasn’t yelling and screaming at me now. He was mad. Really mad.

Everbody leaves the corridors and it’s just me and Chan.

“You’re dying your hair blonde right now. Go get dressed. I’m calling the stylist.” He says in a disappointing tone and slams his door. Not even letting me speak.

The tears automatically start to pour as soon as I close the door. I walk into my room and close my door. They didn’t stop when I took my shower. They didn’t stop when I slowly got dressed and it didn’t stop when I was doing my makeup which was a horrible mistake because the mascara kept running down my cheeks.

You’re so fucking stupid! So fucking dumb!

A knock on the door stops me from what I’m doing and I hopelessly open it to find the Madelyn our hair stylist standing outside with her equipments in hand. She gives me a sad smile. Almost like a ‘I know what your going through and I’m hear to fix it’

“Rough morning huh?” She asks setting everything down.

“Yeah” I nod and she pulls me into her arms as I start to cry even harder than before. Her little rubs on my back make me melt into her arms.

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay we’re going to fix this yeah? We’re going to make it seem like that wasn’t you at all and everything will go back to normal okay?”

“Yeah, except the fact that I’m grounded for life.” I say miserably and she chuckles.

“I was once like you my love, wild, young and free. Things like this happen and I know Chan is going to start understanding soon. His just so used to being around boys he forgets that he also has to raise a teen girl.” She smiles look at the mirror while doing my hair.

“Yeah I geuss but I was also in the wrong, I knew I shouldn’t have done it! I knew I was right. The feeling was in my stomach. Everything was too good to be true!” I huffed in frustration.

“Yeah but people won’t know it’s you if your hair is dyed now. They’ll think it’s fake and the secret will be between us.” She rubs my back.

“Not even management?” I ask her and she nods.

“Not even management. If they ask, you were home last night and I was doing your hair. Duhhh” she chuckles and pinches my cheek.

“Oh I love you so much Madelyn!” I say softly.

“Us girls have to stick together. Always! Now…tell me all about this boy! Don’t leave anything out!” She teases me and I feel my cheeks turn red.

“His just an old friend..” I start, “but I’ll tell you!” We both start squealing and gossiping like we always do whenever she did my makeup or hair.

We spent like an hour on my head before I was fully blonde. She quickly styled it and did my makeup for the airport.

“Alright all done, would you like me to help you carry your bags down?” She puts her brush down and analyzes my face.

Her hands were busy packing up her hair supplies.

“No it’s fine I’ll just take them down myself..“ she trails off as a knock interrupts the conversation and Chan comes in.

“Hey Madelyn, I didn’t see you come in. You good?” He asks and gives her a hug.

“Yeah I’m done with this little trouble maker. I hope you like it. I’m about to head out then head to the airport.”

“Yeah okay it’s fine” he turns and analyzes my big head of now blonde hair, “alright see you at the airport yeah?” She turns back to her and gives her a soft smile.

“Go easy on her Channie.” She chuckles and ruffles Chan’s hair.

“I’ll try,”

She packs up her stuff and leaves me and Chan in the room.

The air was tense. I stood there looking at anything but him. My hands rubbing against eachother.

“I’m not going to scold you or tell you off right now. But when we get to New York, you better pray that I don’t throw you off the skyscraper.” I gulp and look at him in fear, “now come on the cars are almost here and you need to eat.”

Fuck.

**

LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE Y/N!!🤣🤣Lmao see you in the next chapter bye bye.

[chelseaknoo]

25 days with Eminem

Eminem x reader

Day 9

The house was peaceful, the only sound being the crackling of the fire in the fireplace. Outside, the snow was falling steadily, covering everything in a thick, white blanket. The world seemed still, but inside, the warmth from the fire and the cozy atmosphere made everything feel perfect.

You and Marshall had just finished making hot chocolate, and you both settled on the couch, wrapping yourselves in a massive blanket that seemed to swallow you both whole. Jackie, Hailie, Stevie, and Alaina were all still sound asleep, enjoying a well-earned rest after the excitement of the past few days.

Marshall pulled you close, his arm slipping around your shoulders as you leaned into him. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, and for a moment, everything felt just right. He held the mug of hot chocolate in his hand, taking a slow sip before setting it down on the table next to the couch.

"Mm," he said with a sigh of contentment, looking down at you with a playful grin. "I think we make the best hot chocolate, don’t you think?"

You smiled, snuggling closer. "Oh, definitely. It’s probably the best thing I’ve ever tasted." You paused, glancing at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. "But it might just be because I’m sharing it with you."

Marshall raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Is that so?" He pulled the blanket up higher, covering both of you more snugly. "Well, I’ll take it as a compliment, then."

You both fell into a comfortable silence, the warmth of the fire and the heat of his body making everything feel peaceful and safe. As the minutes passed, Marshall’s fingers lightly traced over your arm, the touch gentle but filled with affection.

"You know," he said, his voice softer than usual, "I love moments like this. Just us, the fire, the snow, no stress... I could get used to this."

You smiled, resting your head on his chest. "Same. It’s nice to have these quiet moments where we don’t have to think about anything else. Just us and the family."

Marshall nodded, his hand now gently brushing your hair back from your face. "I’m glad we have that. You know, sometimes I forget how much I need this—how much I need *you*. Life gets so crazy, but nights like this make it all worth it."

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with affection. "I need you too, Marshall. And I’m so glad we’ve got each other through all of it."

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Always," he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity. "No matter what happens, I’m always gonna be here. For you, for Jackie, for all of us."

You smiled, your fingers gently tracing the outline of his hand. "I know. And I’m not going anywhere either. We’ve got a good thing here."

Marshall’s smile softened as he pulled you even closer, his chin resting on top of your head. The world outside might have been cold and snowy, but right here, in this moment, everything felt perfect.

The fire crackled as the snow continued to fall outside, and for a long time, you and Marshall just sat there together, letting the peaceful quiet of the night surround you. Every now and then, one of you would speak, sharing little thoughts, gentle jokes, or just enjoying the silence together.

"I think the kids are gonna love Christmas this year," Marshall said after a while, breaking the silence. "It’s gonna be our best one yet."

"Definitely," you agreed. "With Jackie getting bigger and everyone coming together, it’s going to be amazing."

Marshall chuckled softly, his hand resting on your thigh. "Yeah, can’t wait to see how Jackie reacts to all the presents. I have a feeling he’s gonna be more interested in the wrapping paper than the actual toys."

You both laughed at the thought. "He’s at that age, isn’t he? It’s adorable though. Everything is so new to him."

"Yeah," Marshall agreed. "It’s crazy how fast they grow. Feels like just yesterday we were bringing him home from the hospital."

You nodded, a small smile on your lips as you thought about how much your little family had grown. "Time really does fly, but I wouldn’t change a thing. I’m so happy with how everything turned out."

Marshall’s smile was soft and sincere as he looked at you. "Me too. Couldn’t have asked for a better life. Or a better partner to share it with."

You kissed him gently, savoring the warmth of his lips against yours, the soft crackling of the fire providing the perfect backdrop to the tender moment. When you pulled away, you rested your forehead against his.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath.

"I love you too," Marshall replied, his voice just as soft. "More than anything."

For a few more moments, you both sat in silence, simply enjoying each other’s company. The snow outside continued to fall, the fire flickered, and the world seemed to stand still. And in that moment, you both knew that no matter what, this was home.

Marshall leaned back on the couch, pulling you closer under the blanket, his lips quirking into that playful smirk you knew all too well. "So," he started, his voice low and teasing, "you think I’m the reason this hot chocolate tastes so good, huh? What is it, my impeccable taste in marshmallows or the way I stirred it?"

You giggled, setting your mug down on the coffee table before turning toward him, resting your chin on his chest. "I don’t know... maybe it’s just because I was distracted by how good you look in this light."

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. "Oh, so now it’s about me looking good? I thought it was the hot chocolate."

You pretended to think for a moment, tapping your chin. "It could be both. But let’s be real, it’s mostly you. The firelight really does something for you."

Marshall chuckled, his arm tightening around your waist. "Well, look at you, buttering me up tonight. What are you after? A back rub? A foot massage?"

You gasped, feigning offense. "Excuse me, I don’t need to butter you up for those things. You already owe me at least five back rubs."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, we’re keeping count now, are we?"

"Of course we are," you teased, poking his chest lightly. "You know I never forget."

Marshall tilted his head, studying you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Alright, since you’re keeping track... how about I pay one of those debts right now? I’ve got these magic hands, you know."

You burst out laughing. "Magic hands? Is that what we’re calling it?"

"Absolutely," he said with mock seriousness, flexing his fingers. "These hands can make a grown woman melt in under five minutes. Guaranteed."

"Uh-huh," you teased, leaning closer. "Big words for someone who hasn’t delivered on those back rubs yet."

Marshall leaned in, his face inches from yours, his voice dropping lower. "You know, I could prove it right now... but then again, I’m kinda enjoying just holding you like this."

Your cheeks flushed at his tone, and you couldn’t help but grin. "Is that so? You’re full of charm tonight, aren’t you?"

He smirked, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, "Only for you."

The kiss that followed was slow and tender at first, but then it deepened, his hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. You sighed into it, your fingers lightly tracing the line of his jaw. When you finally broke apart, you were both smiling.

"You’re dangerous, you know that?" you murmured, your fingers still playing with the hem of his hoodie.

Marshall chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Only in the best way, right?"

"Depends on the day," you shot back, laughing when he groaned.

"Harsh," he said, pretending to pout. "Here I am, trying to be all sweet, and you’re just roasting me."

"Someone’s gotta keep you humble," you quipped, leaning back into his arms.

He laughed again, pulling you even closer. "Yeah, well, don’t think I’m letting you off the hook either. You’re all sweet and cuddly now, but I remember the sass you were throwing earlier about my music setup on the kitchen table."

You grinned. "It’s called constructive criticism, babe. You can’t just leave your headphones everywhere!"

Marshall rolled his eyes playfully. "Constructive criticism, my ass. You’re lucky you’re cute."

You smirked, leaning up to kiss his jawline. "I know I am. That’s why you put up with me."

He shook his head, laughing softly as his fingers traced lazy patterns on your arm. "You’re too much, you know that?"

"And yet, here you are," you teased, settling back into his chest.

"Yeah, well," he said, his voice warm and teasing. "Where else would I be? You’re kinda my favorite person, you know."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile. "I think you’re my favorite person too. But don’t let it go to your head."

"Too late," he quipped, kissing the top of your head.

The fire crackled in the background, and the snow continued to fall outside as the two of you stayed wrapped up in each other, sharing laughter, kisses, and teasing words well into the night.

Marshall's smirk widened as he shifted under the blanket, pulling you even closer so that you were practically sitting in his lap. “You know,” he murmured, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, “for someone who keeps giving me a hard time, you sure don’t seem to want to leave my side tonight.”

You laughed softly, resting your hands on his chest. “Maybe I just like the way you smell. Or maybe it’s the firelight—makes you look less grumpy.”

He chuckled, his hand trailing down your back. “Less grumpy? Babe, I think you’ve got me all wrong. I’m a *ray of sunshine*.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, leaning back to meet his gaze. “This coming from the guy who grumbled for thirty minutes this morning because Jackie threw a teething ring at your face?”

Marshall groaned, though the corners of his mouth twitched with amusement. “Okay, fair. But in my defense, that thing is basically a weapon. Your kid’s got an arm on him.”

“*My* kid?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Well,” he said, smirking, “he only throws stuff at me, so yeah, he’s definitely your kid.”

You laughed, lightly smacking his chest. “Admit it, you love him—even if he does have good aim.”

Marshall grinned, his hands sliding up to cradle your face. “Yeah, I do. And you know what else?”

“What?” you whispered, your breath hitching as his thumbs brushed over your cheekbones.

“I love you even more,” he said softly, his lips capturing yours in a slow, lingering kiss.

The kiss deepened, his hands sliding into your hair as you melted into him. His lips were warm and soft, moving against yours with a mix of tenderness and heat that made your heart race.

When you finally pulled back, your faces were still inches apart, his forehead resting against yours. “You’re dangerous,” you murmured, your voice breathy.

“Dangerous, huh?” he teased, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw. “What does that make you? Because, babe, you’ve got me wrapped around your little finger, and you know it.”

You smirked, leaning in to nip at his bottom lip. “Maybe I do. But don’t act like you don’t love it.”

Marshall chuckled, his hands slipping down to your waist. “I do. Too much, probably. You’re my weakness, you know that?”

“Good,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his.

The kisses turned playful, soft bites and teasing nips that had both of you laughing in between. He tilted his head, catching your lips again and pulling you impossibly closer. His fingers traced lazy patterns along your back, sending shivers down your spine despite the warmth of the fire.

“Babe,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and rough, “if you keep kissing me like that, we might have to move this to a less public space.”

You laughed, resting your hands on his shoulders. “The kids are asleep. And besides, we’re under a blanket. We’re fine.”

“Yeah, until one of them wakes up,” he said, though his lips still found yours again.

You shrugged, smirking as you pulled back slightly. “Then I guess you better make it worth the risk.”

Marshall’s eyes darkened with mischief, his hands gripping your waist as he leaned in close. “Oh, I intend to.”

He kissed you again, slow and deliberate, making you forget about everything else—the snow outside, the faint hum of the heater, even the risk of being caught. In that moment, it was just you and him, tangled together on the couch, lost in each other.

When you finally broke apart for air, both of you were smiling, your foreheads still pressed together. “You’re trouble,” you said, your voice soft and teasing.

“And you love it,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Yeah,” you admitted with a grin. “I really do.”

The fire crackled behind you, casting a warm glow over the room as you snuggled back into his arms, the blanket cocooning you both. The kisses continued, playful and sweet, as the snowy night carried on.

[vamplvs]

a/n : i play a little fast and loose with canon here just be warned (and also it's worth noting that this was entirely inspired by this post)

bucky barnes returns to the neighborhood he grew up in once he's back in one piece.

most of new york city has changed since the 40s, so it stands to reason that his folks' home is probably gone too. at least that's how bucky figures it. it makes sense that they would've plowed it down to replace it with some new apartment complex. times have changed, so it's only logical.

so why is there a pit in his stomach as he walks toward the block he grew up on? what if they did change everything about the neighborhood? what if he lost yet another part of his life before the brainwashing and the trauma?

but when he rounds the corner, he sees the brickwork of the old buildings and a wave of relief washes over him. the neighborhood looks almost identical to the way it looked nearly 80 years ago. almost, anyways.

the apartments and townhouses are still up, and they're bustling with midafternoon life. a school bus lets out a gaggle of kids, and there are cars parked all along the street—a few double parked in true brooklyn fashion. but it's not until bucky finally walks up to the old townhouse he grew up in that he finds a smile. the little tree—which was little more than a sapling when he was a kid—in front of the building had now grown tall.

he stands there for a moment or two—or three, really he can't be sure how long he was standing there for—simply staring at the building with a small smile on his face.

"excuse me?" a voice comes from his right and startles him from his reverie. standing next to him, behind a large pile of boxes balanced carefully in your hands, is you. "can i help you?" you raise a suspicious eyebrow at him.

"oh, uh," he cleared his throat, "no, i just-"

"can i ask why you're staring down my home?" your face twists into a frown.

"oh." bucky winces. "i- well, i grew up here, is all." you wait for him to elaborate, clearly still suspicious of this strange man standing in front of your home. "my folks lived here before..." he trails off, unsure how to finish the thought. before he was sent off to war? before he was tortured, brainwashed, and used for nearly 70 years?

but your face softens without any further explanation. "shit, i'm- i'm so sorry." you shuffle the boxes in your arms, awkwardly trying to reach for your key.

"do you need any help?"

your eyes flash to his, pure frustration shining through, and yet he has a hard time breaking your gaze. "i'm fine, just-" you huff, and the tower of boxes nearly collapses on top of the both of you.

in a swift movement, he rights the boxes and picks them up from your arms. they aren't particularly heavy—especially not for a man with a super-powered arm—but their size makes them awkward to carry.

"thanks," you say, still somewhat wary, and pull your keys from your pocket.

he follows you into the building, still carrying boxes labeled "kitchen," "bed," and other things of the sort. it isn't until you're both inside the home itself that bucky is struck by how similar it is—down to the kitchen countertops.

you must have caught him staring because next you say, “the previous tenants kept the original counters.” you toss your keys down onto them. "not sure how much i like them yet."

“yeah,” his voice is slightly hoarse. he forces himself to turn away, ignoring the memories that rush to the forefront of his mind. "same as when i was growing up," it's quiet when he says it, but it almost rings out in the small apartment.

you give him an odd look, like you're trying to suss him out. it can't be so unbelievable that bucky grew up in this very same kitchen, right? not unless the previous tenants lived here for a good long while, but what are the odds of that?

"i don’t mean to pry, but why are you here?” you level him with one look. bucky’s always been told he has a staring problem, that he was too intense, but he’s sure you’d beat him in that fight in a heartbeat.

“i was in the area.” his excuse isn’t entirely honest, and you can tell. as far as bucky is concerned, being ‘in the area’ means being in new york at all.

“right.”

after a beat of uncomfortable silence, bucky moves toward the door. "i'll, uh, be going." he clears is throat. "sorry for bothering you."

it's another beat before you say anything: "hold on! let me give you my number if you, um, ever want to swing by again. nostalgia is a bitch, right?" you scrawl the numbers down onto the back of a crumpled receipt you found in your pocket and hand them to him. "give me a call if you ever want to relive the good old days, alright?"

"sounds good," he replies, a small smile flitting briefly across his face, "thanks."

with that, bucky steps out of your home, closing the door softly behind him, and leaving you with more questions than answers. the first one being, how did you manage to move into the winter soldier's childhood home? and does he seriously think that ball cap is doing anything to hide who he is? i mean, sure, it took you a moment to put the pieces together, but come on.