#firsts voices from 2022 are still right & they always have been

[gunsatthaphan]

Doreen, if today's live proved anything, one simply cannot take the baby out of Khaotung. It's forever. As for the glasses, gone like Mew's....

we keep talking about his 2020/21 baby era but in reality it never ended djkhgf all that changed is his haircut. love that for him though. he may be a menace on screen now but does that change his off screen personality??? not in the slightest.

xxx

[girlygguk]

DREAM OF YOU | JJK (Prologue)

summary bunnies had always been your favorite; their soft and gentle nature a comfort in a world that could be anything but. this one, however, is not very soft. and he certainly isn’t gentle.

pairing bunny hybrid!jk x human vet!(f)reader

word count 3k

chapter rating sfw

genre hybridverse, s2l, angsty (future fluff & smut)

content jk 24 | yn 25, grumpy bunny hybrid jk, spirited human veterinarian oc, jk doesn't trust humans, his love interest is a human..., brief mentions of fighting, blood & body wounds, cursing, hybrid bangtan, park jimin is an angel cat

updated a/n this was supposed to just be a draft dump, but upon unexpected love for the fic from a few of u absolute sweetheartss, i shall be turning this into a series! haven’t decided onna release date for pt 2 atm, but it’s next on my list for updates!! love you and thank youu x <3

masterlist | join the taglist | banner credit

now playing: camila cabello—dream of you

09 MAY 2022 | 10:31 PM Seo-Dong Animal & Hybrid 24/7 Veterinary Clinic.

You’d gotten used to these quiet hours, where time seemed to stretch and your thoughts kept you company more than the occasional late-night emergency. Stocking supplies and counting inventory had become a routine—one of the many tasks that kept your mind and hands busy in the lull between patients.

That is until the silence was shattered by the sound of the clinic door slamming open, the loud thud of it hitting the wall echoing through the empty space. Startled, you stood up from your crouched position, your eyes immediately darting to the entrance.

The sight that greeted you was a sharp contrast to the quiet evening you’d been having. A blonde boy, his eyes sharp and his features very feline, was half-dragging, half-supporting a taller male into the clinic. Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the scene—especially the sight of the second male, whose long, fluffy ears drooped low in a clear sign of distress.

Your hand automatically reached out to close the cabinet you had been rummaging through, and without another thought, you were moving toward the pair, mind racing to assess the situation as you walked. The bunny hybrid—as you determined based on his undeniable features—was clearly in pain. His eyes were shut tight, his jaw clenched, muscles taut with tension. Bunnies had always been your favorite; their soft and gentle nature a comfort in a world that could be anything but. Seeing one in such a state of discomfort made your chest tighten.

“Hi there, I’m Y/N. What’s wrong? How can I help?” you asked, your voice gentle despite the urgency you felt.

The cat hybrid—also self-determined by you—was quick to respond, his voice laced with worry as he glanced at his friend. “Hello, Y/N! I’m Jimin, and this is my friend Jungkook. He’s injured, and if you could please—”

You were already nodding, taking another step closer to Jungkook to try and assess his wound. But before you could get too close, Jungkook’s eyes snapped open, and he took a sharp, defensive step backward, pulling Jimin with him. His dark eyes narrowed as they met yours.

“No,” he grunted, his voice rough with pain and something else—distrust. His nose wrinkled in distaste at the all too familiar scent. Human. You could almost see the thoughts running through his mind. “She’s not a hybrid. Let’s go, Jimin-ah.”

The words hit you slightly harder than you expected, and your extended hand abruptly dropped to your side. It wasn’t the first time you’d faced prejudice in your line of work, and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Humans didn’t have the best reputation among hybrids, and for good reason. The history between your species was filled with pain, fear, and oppression. Even now, with the world having come a long way in terms of hybrid rights, there were still deep scars left by past injustices.

You understood his reaction, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t sting. You were just trying to help.

As much as you wanted to let him walk out and take his assumptions with him, you couldn’t ignore the clear signs of pain and discomfort in the way he held himself.

“Okay,” you said, forcing your voice to remain even. “Did you need directions to the nearest open hybrid clinic? It’s about an hour's drive eastbound. Or, my koala hybrid colleague will be starting the overnight shift at 12. You can come back then?”

The words were polite, but there was a frustrated edge to them, one you couldn’t control. You weren’t some inexperienced intern, and you certainly weren’t going to let this bunny hybrid dismiss you so easily.

Jungkook caught the undertone, and his expression darkened further. He gave you a tight nod, clearly not appreciating your condescending offer, and turned to leave, unhooking his arm from Jimin’s supportive grip.

“Jungkookie, please!” Jimin pleaded, his voice rising in desperation. He grabbed the back of Jungkook’s torn t-shirt, pulling him back with more force than you expected from someone with such a lithe frame. Jungkook grunted in pain, the sound low and rough, as the movement aggravated whatever injury he was carrying.

“I’m sorry, Kookie, but you will die if we wait!” Jimin’s words were dramatic, but the concern in his eyes was very real. “Just please, please let her tend to you. I’m sure she’s more than qualified! Why else would she be working here, right?” The cat turned to you, his eyes wide and pleading. “Right?”

You allowed a small, wry smile to tug at the corner of your lips. “Sure,” you said, a teasing lilt in your voice. “Though, I’m not actually a qualified veterinarian - I just sanitize the equipment and clean out the overnight chambers. But our night vet called in sick, so… I guess I could try?”

Jimin’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, his head shaking nervously as he took a step back. “Oh… I-uh, never mind! Uh—I think we’ll actually go to—”

“Aish, Jimin-ah. She’s joking,” Jungkook muttered, his voice laced with irritation at his gullible best friend.

The bunny’s dark eyes flicked to the name badge on your white lab coat that covered your forest green scrubs. Small doodles in thin black marker decorated the corners of the badge—hearts, flowers, and funnily enough, a tiny little bunny rabbit. Below your name, in bold letters, was your title: Senior Animal and Hybrid Veterinary Specialist.

“Oh!” Jimin gasped, relief washing over his features as some of the color drained from his cheeks. “Well, that’s great then! May you please help my friend? He’s a bunny hybrid, 24 years old, and he has a really big bite wound on his lower abdomen! It’s not bleeding badly, but it’s HUGE. It was from this big, ugly Pitbull hybrid! He’s terrifying and from the South side—well, we are too—but he deals drugs and all sorts of illegal things, so who knows what was in his mouth before he bit Jungkook?! But don’t worry, Y/N-ssi, Jungkookie doesn’t back down! You should’ve seen what that no-good mutt came out looking like—”

“Jimin-ah,” Jungkook sighed, his eyebrows furrowing in annoyance at his best friend’s tendency to ramble and over share.

“Right, sorry, Jungkookie…” Jimin said quickly, his ears flattening slightly in embarrassment before he turned back to you. “Anyways, it happened about ten minu—”

You nodded along as Jimin continued his detailed description while you walked to the counter with the hybrids following suit, one much more begrudgingly than the other.

Your pen flew over the clipboard as you jotted down everything you needed to know. All the while, you could feel Jungkook’s gaze burning into the side of your face. 

It wasn’t the kind of look you were used to from other hybrids—the possessive, predatory stares that made your skin crawl. This was different. His eyes were sharp, assessing, like he was trying to figure out if he could trust you. 

Two minutes passed as you filled out the necessary sections on the new patient slip, the cat being the one to provide all the details, everything right down to the weight of the bunny. They’re obviously very close, possibly lovers, and you thought it was adorable. A classic grumpy x sunshine trope right in front of your eyes.

You were almost finished when, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jungkook’s knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the counter, his balance faltering. His stance had shifted from defensive to exhausted, his body finally starting to give in to the pain and the adrenaline that had been keeping him upright.

“Catch him, Jimin,” you ordered, your voice firm and directed at the cat hybrid, but your eyes were on the bunny.

“Oh, shit!” Jimin cursed, his eyes widening in panic as he darted forward to catch his friend. Jungkook’s knees buckled, his eyes rolling back as his body went limp. He was almost twice the size of Jimin, and the smaller hybrid struggled under the sudden weight.

You were around the counter in seconds, slipping under Jungkook’s other arm to help hold him up. “Help me bring him into the medical suite, please,” you asked, but your tone left little room for argument. Together, you and Jimin managed to half-carry, half-drag the unconscious bunny hybrid into the next room.

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗

“Y/N-ssi,” Jimin’s voice was curious as he twirled in your spinny chair, watching as you worked on his best friend who lay unconscious on the cushioned med table.

“Hmm?” you responded quietly, focused on pulling another thread through Jungkook’s stitch.

It had been almost forty minutes since you guys had heaved the bunny onto the table, allowing you to finally get a good look at the wound. Jimin had been right — it wasn’t profusely bleeding. However, the edges of the bite were now a dark purplish color, and it took quite a few minutes and resources to rid him of whatever remnants of toxic substance the attacker had laced on his teeth.

The cat hybrid was more than eager to help, and while you insisted it was okay, he all but got on his knees and bowed before you, begging to assist. You ended up giving in, knowing that helping might calm his overwhelming nerves for his companion. You made him glove and gown up before letting him hold the bucket while you flushed out Jungkook’s wound.

It took approximately ten seconds and a bit of discolored pus draining into the container before Jimin dry heaved and looked like he was about to faint. Not wanting to double your current patient count, you bit back a laugh and made the cat put the bucket on the ground and sit down while you finished.

“Are you really a senior veterinarian?”

“I am,” you confirmed, snipping the end of your final stitch with scissors before reaching for the sanitized gauze. “Have I done something to make you question my position?”

“No!” Jimin exclaimed, pulling to an abrupt halt in his spinning on your chair. “You’re fantastic! Really! I don’t exactly know the standards for hybrid medical aid…” You smiled as the cat trailed off, wiping over Jungkook’s now neatly sealed wound. “But I bet you exceed them!”

“You’re very kind, Jimin-ssi.” You gave him a quick glance over your shoulder, and he returned your smile. “Then why do you ask?”

“Well, it’s just…” Jimin trailed off again, a habit of his that you found slightly comical considering his tendency to ramble and over-explain things. Shifting on your stool next to the sleeping bunny hybrid, you gave him your full attention. When the cat looked up and saw your head tilted in curiosity, he continued. “You just look very, uh, young? I’m sorry if that’s offensive. I know you’re not supposed to ask a woman her age—”

“That’s okay, Jimin-ssi. I don’t mind. I’m twenty-five.”

Your response seemed to put him at ease. “Wow, that’s still young to be a senior vet, no?”

“Mm,” you nodded in agreement as you began tidying up the area. “After completing my bachelor’s degree, I started here as a Veterinary Assistant. I was promoted to technician shortly after that, and specialist even quicker... Guess they saw some potential in me, or maybe we were just severely understaffed,” you joked, disposing of the used supplies and taking everything that needed to be cleaned to the sanitization station.

He gave you a Cheshire grin. “Ah, so modest, Y/N-ssi… From what I’ve seen, you deserve all of that and more! And I would know best. I’m older than you, after all.”

You gave the cat an amused hum, dumping the utensils into the sink for washup later. “‘95?”

“Wha—” You didn’t have to look at him to sense the way he perked up in his seat. “How did you know?!”

“The tattoo on your finger,” you replied with a light chuckle as you walked to the storage cupboard.

Jimin’s gaze dropped to the small ‘95’ tattoo encased in a heart on the side of his right ring finger. “Oh,” he mumbled sheepishly. The fact that you had managed to notice such a slight detail about him, though, made the cat inside him purr.

“What size shirt is Jungkook?”

Jimin looked up from his hand to see you now digging around in a large container of what looked to be folded clothing. His brows pinched curiously. “Medium.”

You nodded, your hand already hovering over a black tee in medium, having guessed correctly. When you pulled the shirt from the pile, your foot nudged the container back into the cupboard before you made your way over to Jimin. He gave you a confused look as you walked right past his best friend, who lay shirtless on the table, and held the shirt out to him.

“Um—”

“It may make him a bit more comfortable to be wearing something with a familiar scent when he wakes up.” You explained, wiggling the fabric in your hand, urging him to take it. Jimin let out a noise of realization and took it from you with a nod.

“The anesthesia should be wearing off shortly. His stats are good, so it won’t be long now,” you said with a reassuring smile as you took the t-shirt back from Jimin after he had thoroughly scented the fabric.

Jimin watched silently, a small smile on his face, as you carefully pulled the shirt onto the unconscious hybrid. A frown crossed your features when you noticed his skin was cold to the touch. Concerned, you checked his heart rate on the monitor next to the bed and were relieved to find the stats still within a healthy range. After recording the data, you headed to the medical supply cupboard and gathered everything you needed in a large ziplock bag. You handed it to Jimin, along with a manual on aftercare for stitched wounds.

“I’m just going to finish up the last of the paperwork for the night before my colleague arrives to take over,” you told him. Jimin nodded with a smile, and you returned it, making sure to lower the air conditioning as you left the room.

About 20 minutes later, Jungkook woke up and walked out of the medical bay with Jimin. He was moving better now, but you could tell he was still groggy. The sound of their approaching footsteps caught your attention, and you looked up from your desk.

Jimin’s face was split into a wide grin. “What do we owe you for your magic, Y/N-ssi?”

You smiled as you handed him the invoice, then turned to Jungkook. “Do you have Hybrid Healthcare?” you asked gently.

Jungkook didn’t respond verbally, just shook his head and reached for his wallet in his back pocket, shuffling through some cash.

“Oh, you don’t have to pay all at once. If you’re good for it, we offer payment plans—”

“Are you assuming I can’t pay it all at once?” Jungkook interjected with a glare.

His sharp tone caught you off guard, and your expression shifted from soft to slightly offended. You suppressed the urge to snap back, keeping your voice steady. “No, I offer that to every patient who doesn’t have healthcare—”

Jimin looked up from the file in his hand, his confusion cutting off your explanation. “Y/N-ssi, is this the completed bill?”

You frowned. “Yes, is there something wrong?”

“Well, I saw you use two syringes, not one. And you were stitching for over 30 minutes, not fifteen like recorded. I don’t understand…”

Your heart sank. If Jungkook hadn’t thought you were pitying him before, he definitely did now.

Jungkook snatched the paper from Jimin, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the document.

“Well, I just—” you began, but Jungkook cut you off.

“You didn’t even charge me for the anesthesia,” he scoffed, practically slamming the paper on the counter before reaching for a wad of cash. “I’m not a fucking charity case, but thanks, though.” He pulled out double the amount listed on the bill and slapped it on top of the paperwork.

You were quiet as he did so, your face expressionless as you looked down at the money. Jimin gave you a guilty look, but Jungkook’s gaze remained fixed on you. “Is that enough? How much was it originally?”

You blinked at him, then nodded wordlessly, taking the bills and turning to the register. Your fingers tapped at the screen before the till popped open and you shoved the cash into the register, closing it a little harder than necessary. When the receipt printed, you ripped it off and handed it to Jungkook without a word.

Jungkook took the receipt in silence, his jaw clenched as he watched you.

“Y/N-ssi—” Jimin started, guilt evident in his tone.

“I gave Jimin your aftercare bag,” you said, your voice robotic as you addressed Jungkook. “Sanitize the injured area twice a day—once in the morning, once at night. Avoid swimming in pools with chlorine and stay away from salt water too. Stitches need to be removed in two weeks; you can book an appointment with my colleague, Namjoonie. He’ll be here in five minutes.”

With that, you nodded politely at the two men before turning on your heel and heading toward the staff office. The door closed behind you with a sharp click, leaving the hybrids in a heavy silence.

Jimin let out a sigh. “Aish, Jungkookie—”

“Shut up.”

[notebookmusical]

“In light of everything that’s happened in the past three months alone, here’s some incredibly valid reasons to be pissed off at Taylor Swift, or simply not like her — as someone who loved her, and loved her music. First and foremost, Taylor Swift is personally burning a hole through the ozone with the amount of CO2 she uses. That’s not even the main point of this video; but this is a graph from 2022 of how much CO2 she produced of her 170 private jet flights, versus the average person. She has spent 70 grand on jet fuel alone. Taylor Swift, alone has used 170 tons of CO2 in the past 3 months. The average person only burns like, 16 tons. That’s not even the main part of this video. The main point of the video is the fact that she has not spoken up about Palestine. And the reason that is so fundamentally frustrating is that Taylor Swift has influence. Quote Brittany Broski, when she also didn’t speak up about Palestine — “if you have a platform, and you have people listening, you have to use it.” It’s criminal to not use it, and Taylor Swift uses it. This is from September 2023. Record-breaking registration numbers from one Instagram post. Literally stating, saying “I’ve been so lucky to see so many of you guys at my US shows recently. I’ve heard you raise your voices, and I know how powerful they are. Make sure you’re ready to use them in our elections this year!” They had a 72(%) increase in 18-year-old registrations. When it comes to Palestine, she’s completely silent. And now that it’s somewhat more socially acceptable to attend Pro-Palestine events, she’s been quietly going with Selena Gomez, but I for one, think that your Instagram is perhaps the best asset you have. If not, money. And I’m sure in a couple months, we’ll learn about how Taylor Swift was quietly setting up foundations for pro-Palestine, and that she was always for the cause and she’s always supported them, but all it takes is one fucking Instagram post. Especially when Israel Palestine is fundamentally a war of narratives. It’s whose story do you believe, despite the mounting evidence that proves that Israel has continuously been doing ethnic cleansing and genocide. They are still maintaining this narrative that they are not doing that. And all Taylor Swift has to do is say “hey, 22 thousand deaths in 3 months? The most in any modern war? This doesn’t seem right.” I don’t even want her to be that leftist or radical, but literally just to ask the question to her largely American audience, when US has bypassed Congress twice to sell millions in arms aid to Israel.  Just for her to be like “Should that many kids be dying, perhaps?” The bar is on the floor, but she still refuses to do it. And the reason why Taylor Swift in particular, not because of the influence that she has and not because of the platform that she has, but why her in particular, is because the IDF continues to use her songs. I know it was a public trend, but the fact that so many occupation forces felt comfortable and confident  to make like, dance edits to Taylor Swift’s music. I think it’s so important how an artist’s music is used because when the republicans wanted to use Eminem’s 8 mile track, he was like “absolutely fucking not, I do not give you consent to do that, and I do not associate with your politics. Don’t do that.” I feel like she should know that her music is being used as the anthem of the occupation forces as they go and bomb civilians. Her, and other artists like her, like Beyonce, who showed her film in Israel, and they’re all like dancing and singing, and saying “you’re not going to break my soul”, whilst they continue to bomb the shit out of civilians have said nothing. And I hope, as I’ve demonstrated in the video, for the people who are going to be like “What’s Taylor swift going to do? She’s not a politician.” Be serious. Be serious. She has a fucking chokehold on at least a billion people. She could’ve said and done way more than what she’s done, and also the CO2 levels." (from: this tiktok*)

* i tried to transcribe the tiktok since tiktok wasn't showing the captions for me but if i misheard anything please let me know!

[svt-aurora]

Ohhh aurora and joshua⁉️⁉️ SO CUTE, I'm imagining the members reaction when they got together or when they announced they're having a child. Soooo please can I request that HAHAHAH THANK YOU!! 💖

“Surprise…?”

⊱ timeline: january 2022

⊱ summary: while having a group dinner with the members, aurora is fed up with having to keep her big news to herself. so aurora does what a normal human being would: she tells them duh.

⊱ a/n: OMG TY ANON FOR THIS REQUEST! i think this is actually so cute and i had so much fun writing this, so i hope u enjoy reading! also this is not really proofread, so ignore any mistakes you see!

ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ ꕀ

it had been a week since aurora found out she was pregnant. joshua was absolutely ecstatic and had been all over her all week. having kids was one of areum’s biggest dreams, so for it to become a reality was so surreal for her. telling josh was already chaotic, but telling the members? oh it would be something to remember. aurora hadn’t actually figured out a way to tell them, but her heart was telling her to just break it to the boys casually. soo… that’s exactly what she’s planning to do.

“HELLOOO!!” dk’s loud voice filled the hallway as he and the other 11 members made their way into the couple’s penthouse.

“guys. just because i gave you a key to my house, doesn’t mean you can break in unannounced.” aurora playfully rolled her eyes, still walking out to greet the boys.

“but didn’t you invite us over?” hoshi asked genuinely confused.

“she was implying that you were supposed to knock first, dipshit.” woozi reached up to slap the back of the boy’s head.

as the night went on with dinner going smoothly, they all decided to play drinking games. obviously beginning with their famous ninja star game. seungkwan started off the game by throwing the invisible (nonexistent) star at the maknae. each of them imagining the star being launched across the table stabbing dino in his neck. the boy’s face contorted in fake pain, grasping a hand over his neck where he was supposedly hit. this resulted in areum letting out a small giggle, which is quite out of the ordinary because she’s usually able to keep a straight face every time they play this game.

seungkwan let out a sound of disbelief. “oh, noona laughed,” he pointed a finger at her, clearly stating the obvious.

bacardi bacardi bacardi yah, the boys sang. wonwoo poured the girl a shot of alcohol and handed it to her saying, “drink bro.”

she held up a hand, rejecting the glass, “ahh i can’t drink today. can someone else drink for me?”

now this really left the members confused. first, aurora laughed during the star game which she’s normally really good at. and second, she rejected a shot of alcohol.

“yah, what the fuck is wrong with you? are you sick or something?” mingyu asked with a joking tone.

“no, i’m not sick. i’m just… pregnant,” aurora mumbled the last word.

“speak up arie, we can’t hear you,” jeonghan told her.

“i said, i’m not sick. just pregnant.” the girl said much louder this time.

jun’s mouth dropped open, vernon choked on his water, and minghao spat out the bits of ramen in his mouth. it was like the members froze for a second. the boys who are always so loud and rowdy, now silenced by aurora’s sudden confession.

dokyeom was the first to speak up, “are you being for real right now reumie?”

“surprise…?” she shrugged awkwardly as if it wasn’t that big of a deal.

she pulled out the pregnancy test nestled in her hoodie’s pocket to prove that she wasn’t joking. with areum’s confirmation, booseoksoon erupted in excited squeals, the rest running over to the girl to tackle her in a hug. the room filled with oh my god i’m gonna be an uncle, can i be the godfather, and shua hyung’s gonna be a dad? as they all ran around in excitement, seungcheol stood up from where he was at the table and walked over to sit down in the chair next to aurora’s.

the leader embraced her in a warm hug, “does the company know?”

“oh my god cheol. i seriously do not wanna think about the company’s reaction to my pregnancy right now,” she rolled her eyes, breaking away from s.coups’ arms.

he chuckled, “okay okay i’m sorry. i just- i’m just worried for what they’re gonna think about the news.”

“and so am i, but right now i just wanna focus on myself and the baby. i will make sure to tell you when i do tell them,” aurora reassured him.

“if you tell them that is,” seungcheol raised a brow, causing areum to giggle.

after the leader left to go talk to joshua instead, dino slid into his now vacant seat. “areumie noona, are you gonna replace me with your baby?” he questioned genuinely curious.

“no chan, i could never. you will always be my first baby,” after hearing her words, the boy relaxed in his seat.

“GUYS! you know what would be a really good name for the baby, and this goes both ways girl and boy by the way. you could name it hoshi junior. after me AND tigers!”

“hell no. there is no way i’m naming my kid after you,” joshua shook his head.

[detectivemarvelingcomics]

Not Your Classic Vigilante [Ch. 17]

Alternate Dimension AU TW: Language, Heavily Implied Animal Cruelty (Lab Rats), Mild Body Horror, Implied Anxiety, Implied Depression, CW: OC Use, See the OC Guide [Here] Genre: Drama, Action, Angst, Light Comedy Pairing: Batfamily & Batsis!Reader, OC x Reader YN Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 9.0K

(17/?) [First] | [Previous] | [Next] [DC Masterlist] | [Not Your Classic Vigilante Masterlist]

Notes: I told y'all it wasn't going to take long this time LOLOLOL although no promises for the next one, classes are ramping up a bit so I cranked this one out before I got on that grind lolol but, as always, I hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: This series is originally by@fandom-meanderer who is a close friend of mine, but she has since fallen out of her Tumblr days and asked me to finish a few series for her, hence why I am now in ownership of the Not Your Classic Vigilante series, I hope I can still live up to her writing as I rewrite this series! (I promise not to change too much, hehe)

2022

The silence was tense. No one dared to say a single word and, while you usually enjoyed moments like these, the sound of the papers in your hand being the only noise in a room filled with six people was unnerving at best. A few hours ago you had finished the physical examination with Dr. Bronte and at your request the tests were expedited, with the recent attacks, you couldn’t afford to sit still. You tapped the corner of the map with your pen, watching the inkblot the paper under it. In your hands was a rough drawing of the kingdom and all of its military bases, you had circled the ones that were decimated by the attacks and you’d annotated the remaining ones with how many Knights were assigned there. The map was filled with scribbles and flaws, but the information was still readable. The sudden decrease in Knights was a whole other problem you’d been pushing to the side, and the Knighthood was spread thin as a result. All of the key players were moved to the Capital to surround the Royal family while the newer recruits were sent to the further sections.

Despite this, you could just barely make out the hushed conversations.

“Is that really…?” Dick’s voice was quiet, trained.

“Yeah, it has to be, it is,” Damian’s, natural.

“But you saw her on the field, it hasn’t been that.…”

“You don’t…”

“But I do, if no one else, I do…”

“Where’s Jason? I’m sure…”

‘It’s just… something isn’t right.”

You took a deep breath and focused. Keeping your hands busy to avoid suspicion, their voices became clearer.

“Some things just aren’t adding up,” Dick mutters. “Why and how are the major things.”

“Of course those wouldn’t make sense, Grayson.”

“Bruce, what do you think? You’ve been quiet this whole time,” Dick probes.

“There’s not enough information, we’re missing too much of the big picture,” he answers, his gaze matching yours for a second before breaking. Would it kill them to just ask you? You were right there. But you couldn’t blame them, a family of detectives, it’s only natural that they want to save their pride and solve the case that is you before you could even figure it out yourself.

“Hey, if you’re done hyper-analyzing me can one of you toss me those painkillers?” You asked loudly.

“Yeah, here,” Dick grabs the bottle from the shelf and hands it to you. “What dose are you supposed to take?” You ignored him, opened the bottle, and took the whole thing. “(Y/N)!”

“Relax, bird boy,” you waved him off and closed your eyes, the pain finally subsiding. You’d been ignoring it since you woke up, but it messed with your focus too much. You weren’t too much of a fan of them, expectedly once they wore off you felt like you were in more pain than before. But this was a new kind of pain, you think, it felt like everything was threatening to rip open at the seams if they weren’t already. “It’ll take nine of these to make any effect,” you reassured him. “I wonder if the lingering effects of the serum have anything to do with this,” you thought aloud.

“We’re not analyzing you, (Y/N), we’re just trying to find out how this is possible.”

“Little sister almost dies again and still her family ignores her, fun.”

“(Y/N),” Dick’s voice takes a new tone and you turned away from him. You didn’t relax again until you noticed him return to the others.

“Some family reunion,” you scoffed quietly, spinning the pen in your hands while you skimmed over the map in your lap and the pages of survey notes in your other. In a world filled with technological marvels, old habits still seemed to die hard, memories of the stacks and piles of papers in your room came back to you, painstakingly recreated and re-detailed notes from your classes and constant observations and findings from your research, some would call have called that the lowest point of your life. Even now, to avoid their whispers and stares, you buried yourself with work.

~

2018

The alarm clock ticked menacingly in your room, a constant reminder of upcoming due dates and the steady yet glaringly short amount of time. You bounced your pen on your thigh while looking at the spread of loose papers pinned to the cork in front of you. Mathematic equations have been written, crossed out, marked over, scribbled through, and rewritten across a canvas of loose pages with haphazard arrows and messily drawn circles around key information, and even then some were violently crossed out with red ink. Sticky notes littered with barely legible writing were sometimes pinned or taped in place. But you couldn’t toss anything out, what if a previous calculation was correct and you had tossed it out on accident? No way, and so those papers were gathered in a stack lining the floor underneath the board.

You were so close to cracking the formula, you were certain. With no reasonable way to ask Bane about the concoction himself, you were stuck in a cycle of trial and error, a secretive one, that only your professor knew about and approved. To your lab colleagues you were studying stem cell regeneration and repurposing, but in truth, your search for a new and improved serum was at a standstill. Maybe you should have just bit the bullet and accepted the grotesque body trauma that came with drinking the serum, but… 

“Maybe if I adjust this amount…” you muttered quietly, running through the quick calculations in your head.

You didn’t want to be a monster.

You’re not one. You’re different. You had to look the part of the hero. You had to match the legacy somehow if you truly were going to go through this. You could argue day and night about your noble intentions but that wouldn't detract from what everyone would see on the surface. You had to be sure. You had to be perfect. And, most of all, you had to have the insurance.

“But then I’d have to account for the-” your head snapped to the window of your room, causing Tim, in his Red Robin uniform, to pause his movements.

“You look… bad,” he says, a look of concern settling on his features.

“Ever heard of knocking, Tim?” You know you said he could drop by whenever he wanted, he was more than welcome always, but you weren’t expecting him to actually do it. At least, not after that nasty fight with your dad. And definitely through your front door.

“Sorry, sis, uh… I brought a snack if you want some?” He pulls his mask off and shows you the paper bag. You could only sigh at the telltale grumble of your stomach.

“Sure, let’s eat in the kitchen,” you left the room first and he stepped into your room, closing and locking the window behind him. He took a brief pause, a small moment, to look at the state of your mind. On top of your dresser was a line of emptied coffee mugs and energy drinks, some showing signs of having been there for weeks and some brand new. Your bed wasn’t made, but that wasn’t a new from the manor. Aside from the general stuffiness of the room, there was the modest wall plug to combat it, but it paled to the pile of unfolded clothes piled up on your desk chair.

Your desk. Tim looked at the large corkboard in front of it.

What were all those calculations for? He knew you to be an exceptional student, a brilliant one actually, but he couldn’t figure out what was in front of him. Not with your handwriting, and not with how the information was laid out. Only you could’ve understood your own madness.

Worse than the corkboard had to be the stacks of paper. They were all on the floor, but why was it that the shortest stack was as tall as he was? He pulled the first paper from the top and skimmed over it, but his eyebrows scrunched together. It was just… scribbles. Whatever was on it before was indiscernible now. But, he swears, he could see the faint outline of a bat in the scribbles.

“Tim? What’s the holdup?” You called him out and with one last glance, a quick and well-calculated grab of all your mugs, Tim walked out of your room.

“What’s with the freak calculations?” You watched Tim place all your mugs in the sink before sitting down.

“CAPSTONE Thesis, why?” You finished cleaning out one of your many mugs and placed it in front of Tim, pouring the freshly brewed coffee into it.

“Real funny, (Y/N),” Tim snorts when he sees the Robin-themed mug.

“It’s a collectible!” You defended. Tim looks into the mug for a moment.

“Did you need any help with your thesis? I have a lot of free time these days,” he says.

“No, all good, I want the satisfaction of saying it was all my work,” you told him. “You’re all amazing, don’t get me wrong, and I appreciate all of your help, but I want this to be my thing, you know?” You explained and Tim could only nod. “I just…” you look at your mug now, Tim notices the dried coffee drips along the sides of it and the chip on it’s rim. Tim looked at his mug and noted that it was pristine. “I want to have something like all of you. Dick’s the acrobat, Jason’s the man of the people, you’re probably the smartest kid in the world, and Damian… well, he’s still trying to figure his thing out other than ‘the product of his upbringing,’ I just want to have something other than ‘the normal one.’” You explained. He didn’t realize it until now, but the dark circles under your eyes almost made you look dead.

“I mean… you are the named heir to Wayne Enterprise,” Tim says.

“Were,” you corrected.

“Are,” he corrects you again. “Bruce can’t be mad at you forever, (Y/N).”

“I know, Tim, but…” You hesitated. “It was bad,” you didn’t say anything more.

No one was there. No one saw or heard the argument. It was just you and him. He didn’t talk about it, and you didn’t talk about it either. You’d never argued like that before, it was so intense it almost didn’t seem like it was him and when he wore that fucking cowl he’d might as well be a stranger to you, hell, that night he basically was. Never had you argued like that, and never had he spoken to you in that way. But you knew that recently it was just argument after argument between the two of you, and usually one or the other would give up and settle. But this time?

Nothing. Radio silence on both ends. You shouldn’t have instigated the way you did. Now so much more was on the line than just your name.

“It’s been a month.”

“Has it?” You looked at your phone. It has. Barbara’s swearing-in ceremony was coming up soon. It was on the same day as your thesis presentation and you’d long told Barbara that you wouldn’t be able to make it. You had plans the next day for a girls’ trip with her, Steph, and Cass after though.

“You know… Alfred still sets a plate for you.”

“That’s nice of him.”

“You’re welcome to come back,” Tim says carefully. You don’t answer, instead, you begin tapping the bottom of your phone against the counter, which is enough of a sign that you weren’t going to answer.

“Is that a new phone?” Tim asks.

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded. “I left the old one at home and figured I’d get myself a new one before I got cut off,” you half-joked with him.

“Can I see it?” You handed it to him, unlocked, and he seemed to tinker with it for a short while before handing it back to you. “I added the distress call app on it,” he says.

“Oh, you didn’t have to,” you looked at the app on your screen, the icon sporting Barbara’s famous insignia on it.

“What do you mean? Of course, I had to,” he says. “Did you want me to bring your phone here?”

“No, it’s fine, that data’s not important anyway. I’ll just drop by in a couple days to get the last of my things. I didn’t want to go earlier while I was still royally pissed off,” you mumbled. Tim hummed quietly. He looked at your hands, it was evident that you’d been chewing on your fingernails. 

‘That’s new,’ he thought.

“Stop it.” Your voice cut through the silence like a knife. Tim blinked out of his thoughts and shook his head.

“I’m sorry?” He looked at you now and felt his heart stop. Had he ever seen your expression like that before? What was it? Fear? Concern? Shock?

… Anger?

You shook your head, running your hand down the side of your face.

“Sorry, I’m just tired,” you muttered. You grabbed the bag he brought and pulled out its contents. “And… hungry.”

“Yeah,” Tim looked down. “Are you sure you’re okay, sis?”

“I’ll be fine.” You took the empty mugs and stacked them in the sink. “I think you should go now, Tim. These deadlines… they’re catching up, you know? I love you, I do, but…”

“No, I get it, I’ll get out of your hair,” Tim stumbles off the stool. “Just… let me know if you need anything too.”

“Sure.”

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I should be saying that to you.”

“Then it’s likewise.” You stood up and opened the door for him and he stood at the doorway for a while.

“I’m fine, Tim, really I am, you don’t have to worry about me,” you repeated. “So stop studying me. I hate it when you guys do that.” You finally said it. You knew he’d been doing it since he got here, that’s why he spent so long in your room, why he was so quiet while you were preparing coffee, and even why he’d asked for your phone. You grew up with this kid, you knew exactly how his mind worked, and yet you could easily tell that he couldn’t read you at all.

Good, to some extent, at least one of your mother’s teachings has stuck with you past these years.

“I didn’t mean for it to come off like that,” he was quick to defend.

“I know. Just be aware of it now,” you held your hand out to stop him. “Bye, Tim.” You closed the door and he heard the locks fasten. He stood a while longer, wondering if he should knock or come back around the window.

He had to, just a quick glance. The way you paced your room, the way you stacked papers and tore them off the wall, it was like you were in a manic state. What were you trying so hard to find out? All this over a thesis? Just what did you and Bruce argue about so much that it left you like this? Again, he is pulled from his thoughts by a sudden sound. He looked up into the window and saw your disappointed face.

“Go home.” He couldn’t hear your voice through the window, but it was clear enough what you said. You pulled the blinds down and he jumped down the fire escape. He looked at his phone, a text chime coming in at almost too perfect a time.

‘How is she?’ A text from Bruce Wayne.

‘Fine, working on her thesis.’

‘Did you tell her to come home?’ Tim stared at the message. Why couldn’t he do it himself? Why go through the trouble of having a middleman?

‘She’ll drop by to grab her things later.’ And the conversation ended there. There was this strange feeling in his chest. Dick couldn’t convince you to come home, Jason didn’t agree with forcing you to come back when you clearly didn’t want to, and Barbara was too busy focusing on everything else and could only offer her support in other ways. Maybe it was too prideful of him to think that it would’ve been his words that convinced you to come back.

Or, maybe the falling out was just that bad.

~

2022

“Could I help you out?” Tim chimed next to you, pulling up a chair and waiting expectantly. You shifted so he could see the map.

“It’s already done, but I can walk you through it. Knight allocation. Right now we have to keep the castle fortified, so that means all of us in the Brigade and our usual squadrons. As a result, we have this number left to move around,” you pointed at the numbers as you explained. “I was planning on dispersing them evenly, but with new intel for predicted daemon attacks, I want to fortify those military bases more.”

“Makes sense,” Tim nods. “In that case, these inner forts can be kept at a minimum,” he points at them. 

“That’s the plan,” you scribbled in numbers. “It’s not ideal though. With everyone dying no one wants to enlist anymore,” You sighed.

“A couple people went home already,” Damian adds. You leaned back on your hospital bed, staring at the muted news feed above you.

Captain Wayne Hospitalized. Brigade on Standby.

Standby? Whoever said that? You were working them half to death trying to find anything on these monsters.

“How do you feel, (Y/N)?” It was still such a foreign feeling to hear Bruce talk to you.

“Fine,” you answered him while placing the clipboard on the side table. “I know you have questions, I see the cogs turning, so just ask me already.”

“It’s… it’s not that we’re trying to theorize, sis, we’re trying to find out what to ask first.” Tim to the rescue. “We have no idea where to start.”

“Let me say the basics then,” you crossed your arms. “I died in 2019. Official cause of death was severe blood loss. I woke up here, somewhat together and sitting in the middle of a field. Shortly after I was found by a couple, around the same age as you, Bruce. The woman was a baker and the man was the then Captain of the Knights. After a few months of them helping me get back on my feet, I wanted to repay their gratitude. I either worked for their bakery, or I put my near decade of observing all of you to good use. I went with the latter, joined that year’s class of cadets, took three advancement exams, and now I’m here as one of the leading captains of the knights.” You gave the facts only, that’s all they needed. “After my third advancement, the royal family handed out “blessings” to those who survived the advancement, enhanced powers that were supposed to help us out in the field. It’s why you’ve seen Carter make fire from nothing, Alex pull people from themselves, it takes a great deal of energy since they’re synthesized, but in last-ditch efforts, they’re quite helpful. But to avoid droning on about the theory of it, I’ll stop there.” You leaned back now, waiting for them to ask anything.

“So that skill of yours.”

“Not reattachment,” you shook your head. “That was because of some weird black magic shit that Alex cast so I wouldn’t die during my last advancement mission. Apparently, it was royal decree so he couldn’t say no,” you looked at the scars on your wrist. Maybe you were just imagining it, but they seemed to be stretching, as if you were falling apart at the seams.

“So then…” Damian now. “What is your ability?”

“Control over—”

“Captain?” There is a soft knock at the door before it slides in. Marion and Dr. Bronte enter swiftly, the former holding a grim expression, ending the conversation prematurely. “We have your results,” she says while handing the chart to Dr. Bronte. His head shifts slightly, acknowledging everyone in the room.

“They can stay,” you assured him. He responds with a nod. “Everyone, who hasn’t met him, this is Dr. Bronte. He’s been my primary care since landing here.” Bruce extends a hand out to him.

“I’m her father,” he introduces. Marion clears her throat awkwardly when Dr. Bronte makes no moves.

“You’ll have to excuse him, Mr. Wayne. Because of the accident, he prefers not to come into contact with strangers,” she explains.

“Understandable,” he steps back just as Marion moves to be next to you.

“How are the wounds?” You looked under your hospital gown.

“Healed, but with no sign of reattachment.” 

“Could I see your hand?” She asks. You stretch your arm out and she gently grasps your arm just above the scars. She brushes over them carefully and observes their connecting points. Dr. Bronte and Marion share a look, and she places a semi-spherical device on your lap. In seconds, it buzzes to life showing an array of images.

“We took a few samples from the open wounds earlier, Cap,” she starts. “These are the videos of your reattachment abilities from your previous physical after we added a shallow cut to your palm. Notice how the red blood cells and your skin cells stretch to cover and compensate for the lost ones while some reach out toward stray drops like magnets, and at the same time notice how fast the platelets react to the injury and cauterize the cut. This next video shows how fast the surrounding skin cells interweave together to close the wound.” This was all information you already knew, but your siblings seemed to listen carefully in their own ways. “Now, these are your current labs. There are no sudden increases in RBC count and the cauterization process is now at an average speed. But, there is a sudden decrease in overall cell activity. A majority of your cells have gone into a stage known as autolysis, they’re breaking down at a rapid rate which is causing the delays in your reattachment.” The video plays as she explains it.

“So, I’m a normal person now,” you tried to put it in layman’s terms.

“Not necessarily, autolysis at this rate doesn’t occur until…” she trails off and Dr. Bronte clears his throat.

“The open wounds, they’re specifically centered around those existing scars you had before entering the Knighthood,” Dr. Bronte steps in and you nod to confirm the information. “To put things bluntly, you’ve entered a state of decomposition, Captain Wayne.” 

Now this caught your attention.

Decomposition?

“So she’s a zombie?!” Dick was the one to break the silence.

“You could say that, yes,” the masked doctor nods. “Ironically, it was that chemical that almost ripped your body apart that’s saving you right now, Captain,” Dr. Bronte hands you a small box and, upon opening it, you found several small vials of the βα-V serums you’d so painstakingly researched and, later, painstakingly ingested. 

“Just like you had intended, βα-V compound is inherently an enhancer. While you had ingested it, the rate of cell division increased ten-fold and the rush of it all is what sustained your adrenaline levels for so long. If you hadn’t taken it, then it’s no exaggeration to say that you’d be counted among the casualties of that attack,” Marion explains. “So, Dr. Bronte and I ran the calculations and separated what we had left into these dosages. Twice a day, consistent, and twelve hours in between. I’m not completely sure yet, but my fear is that those old scars will start opening again without it, I’d rather err on the safe side,” Marion advises. “You’re going to need this,” she hands you a syringe and you let out a small laugh. “Injection straight into the bloodstream is advised over ingestion.”

“Got it,” you took one of the vials and loaded it into the syringe. You lined the needle against one of your veins and pressed it into your skin. “Should I do it quickly or gradually?”

“Whichever you’re comfortable with,” Dr. Bronte answers. You ripped off the bandaid and pushed the entirety of its contents into you, pulling the empty syringe out and wrapping it in a tissue. You watched the green appear for moments before dissolving into your bloodstream.

“I’ll have the remaining syringes sent to your office, Captain.” She takes the syringe and disposes it into the proper bin. “We’ll run a few more labs now that you’ve started the treatment and we’ll continue to monitor your cell count. You’re welcome to continue doing your duties as Captain, but you need to dial it back. The βα-V serum isn’t as effective when your body is in shambles.”

“Right, right,” you sighed and looked at the vials in your lap and handed it to Marion. “Leave this there too then, please,” you told her.

“Do you have any theories why you’ve stopped reattaching, Captain?” Marion asks. “Anything at all. Any changes to your daily life? Exposure to dangerous chemicals?”

“Nothing has changed except for the fact that there are now destructive monsters destroying the continent,” you answered. That and… You looked around the room.

Them. But they couldn’t have caused this, right? You were certain that there weren’t any meta-viral strands you had to be wary of from your original earth, but in terms of changes they’d have to be the only ones.

“If you can come up with anything at all, Captain, let me know immediately,” Marion says.

“Of course,” you nodded and Dr. Bronte stood up.

“We’ll take our leave,” he says with a stiff salute. Marion responds in kind and you dismiss them.

Again the room falls into silence, and luckily it didn’t last long.

“Captain, brought you a pick me up,” Alex enters the room with Constantine, handing you your drink and placing the rest on the table. “There’s some for everyone, feel free to help yourselves,” he says. 

“Reeks of magic all over the place,” Constantine exasperates. “For somewhere that relies so much on tech, seems like magic’s just as important.”

“They are warring factions,” you hummed, thinking back to the war that had embroiled the continent just a few years ago. “Well, how’s the search?” You asked Constantine.

“Your daemons might be magic,” Constantine answers. You drank your coffee.

“Better than nothing,” you sighed and handed another paper to Alex. “That’s next month’s assignments, since you’re acting Captain I’ll trust you to disperse everyone,” you said.

“Certainly,” Alex nods. “Sorry to contribute to the crowd, I’ll leave after discussing one more thing with you,” he says.

“It’s fine, just ask away,” your hand gestured toward him.

“Are you alright?” He asks. You paused your movements and looked at him.

The whole time they’ve been here, they haven’t spoken to you once aside to ask why, and there they were in their little corner filled with questions that you probably had the answers to, and yet they still didn’t ask you. That wall that separated you from them, after all these years, it was still there. Higher than ever. Even if Tim was sitting right next to you, even if Damian was sleeping next to you just minutes earlier.

You’re still a stranger to them, and they to you.

“I’m fine,” you muttered. “I should be asking you, you look horrible, should I ask Henry to fill in more?”

“Please, Henry can’t do half of what we do. I’ll take a day off tomorrow though if all’s in order.” Despite his reassurance, your worries only grew. The dark circles under his eyes, the hallowed cheeks, and the overall sallowness worried you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him so drained, actually, he almost looked dead. And here you were, properly rested and looking more alive than ever disregarding the worrisome scars. And it wasn’t just you either, you could see the way Constantine noticed your worry, and you could tell he felt the same.

“Granted,” you finally answered. “Anyway, isn’t there a rule about how many people can come in during visitation?” You asked aloud.

“Doesn’t apply to family,” Alex answers. The door slid open again with a slam and this time your poor assistant came in.

“Cap, it’s an emergency,” he looks around with frenzied eyes, “the Colonel's back and he’s—”

“Where is she?!” A voice boomed down the hospital corridors and, somehow, it seemed to shake the very walls. “I swear to fucking god if she’s missing any body part I’ll destroy the lot of you! The fuck kind of report is this anyway?! Captain Wayne in critical condition, don’t make me fucking laugh, she reattaches faster than I can even say the goddamn word, how badly must you all have fucked up for her not to?!”

“Oh god, here comes the cavalry, open the window for me, Aldryn,” you shook your head just as a new person entered the room. An overbearing aura fills the small space in an instant, it's the same feeling one would feel when they realized they’re outclassed, outnumbered, or outplanned. And the only thing that changed was the addition of this one individual. Then again, it was understandable. Anyone who marched into a hospital room covered in blood, riddled with scars, and with a just lit cigarette would be shocked.

“Beat it, Aldryn,” the man juts his thumb over his shoulder and the other rushes out. “Jesus Christ,” the Colonel grimaces while putting the cigarette out in a nearby potted plant, “aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he shifts his weight onto one leg and looks at the state of you. “Been a while since you had to stay in a hospital room.”

“Colonel MacLennan,” the nurse finally catches up with him, “visitation… is full,” she huffs. He holds his hand up and gently urges her out of the room.

“I’ll be in and out.” He takes the liberty of closing the door. The Colonel was originally away on another continent for a foreign aid mission and recently returned back after its conclusion, however, despite his distance he had also been keeping an eye on the monster problem. “So, what the hell happened? Tell me the good part so I know what to tell Claire, then tell me the bad part so I can find out how to kill the bastards.”

“Oh, yeah, your rifle was so helpful,” you scoffed. And just like that the tension broke.

“The hell do you mean?!”

“Go figure bullets don’t work on mutated monsters.” You pick up the clipboard back up and feign boredom.

“That rifle saved thousands of lives in the war!”

“And yet it hasn’t taken a single one since its reinstatement.”

“You little,” Allistor takes a deep breath before continuing. “And you, you see your old mate after years and you don’t say anything?” He turns to Constantine.

“You looked like you were busy,” he raises his hands in turn and you push yourself off of bed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” different voices chimed and you found yourself being pushed back down by Tim.

“We still don’t know how your body is reacting to the chemicals, take it easy,” Tim advises you.

“Actually, I think I might be the only one who knows how it reacts,” you corrected. “Relax, I just wanted to sit up is all,” you brushed him off and adjusted the pillow behind you. “As you can see, I’m perfectly fine, it wasn’t an injury to warrant a return to the Capital.”

“Of course I had to come back, did a daemon hit you over the head so hard you forgot how to take care of yourself?!”

“You couldn’t have at least, I don’t know, showered before coming in? You’re going to attract minor monsters here, you know.”

“Like you couldn’t just step on them and have it over with,” he argues. “Have you even seen the mission report?” Allistor grimaces. “It was gruesome, that’s what it was, you know I’m still your guardian, right? What would I be if I didn’t check on you after reading that,” he shakes his head. “Anyway, why the hell’s this room so stuffy, it’s crowded in here,” he complains.

“You could say that again,” you groaned. “Allistor, this is my family. My older brother Dick, my younger brothers Tim and Damian, and the man who raised me, Bruce,” you pointed at each of them as you introduced them. “Family, this is my boss, Allistor MacLennan,” you introduced him last. “Apparently you know Constantine already so there’s no need to introduce him.”

“We shared a drink a few years ago,” Constantine corrects.

“An oversimplification of what happened, but whatever. What’s your prognosis?” Allistor presses. “Your boss who took you into his family is worried,” he snarks back.

“What do you think? Bedrest until my body reattaches properly again,” you grumbled, looking down at the stitched wounds along your scars. “You can tell Claire that I’m fine, she doesn’t have to come over too.”

“Christ, kid,” Allistor drags a tired hand down his face. “You really know how to make someone worry. I only approved that weird chemical you and Mary were working on because I thought it gave you something to do outside of training, I didn’t expect it to put you in a hospital bed,” he says.

“So you’re pulling funding from it?” You asked.

“No, it’s too far in development anyway,” he shakes his head. “Plus, looks like you’ll be needing more of it now.” The conversation dies out, and you finish your cup of coffee in the meantime.

“Any other questions?” You ask him.

“No, I’ll leave now that I’ve seen you in one piece,” he says. “Alex, take a few days, you look like you’re about to keel over there. I can pick up any of (Y/N)’s tasks.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Don’t mention it,” Allistor looks around the room one last time. “About that thing you asked, Alex.”

“Hm?”

“You were right. Cosmo never returned his watch.” You looked up from the clipboard now. Then you turned to Alex. It wasn’t Constantine he called that day. “Makes sense, he went straight to the first subjugation from his mission in E-34. And since there was no body to recover the watch never made it back either.”

“I see, thank you,” he nodded.

“Yeah, but… Figured I’d mention it now since I would’ve told (Y/N) anyway,” Allistor rubbed the back of his head harshly. “But don’t take it as an invitation. (Y/N), don’t poke your nose into anything too dangerous.” 

“I know,” you answer him in a way to cut the topic and Allistor catches on easily. “Just quit nagging and go already, Aldryn will give you the rundown.”

“Would you rather me nag or Claire?”

“This whole thing is going to drive me insane,” you slammed the clipboard on the table and Alex sighed.

“Want me to keep looking into any dimension fluxes?”

“If you could, that would be helpful, do it after your break,” you told him. ‘When did you ask the Colonel to look into Cosmo’s gear?”

“After Damian landed here. There’s no other way to get into this dimension without it so I figured that one of them had to be missing, but it still doesn’t add up,” he answers. You took the tablet now and opened a file. A debrief projects and you turn it so your siblings could see it. 

“Allow me to explain. If you haven’t noticed, the knights primarily work in trios. There were six of us in the Brigade until the daemon attacks started. The first time we ran into a mutated daemon was on the outskirts of the town Helio, where frequent wildfires had been reported. All six of us went, but we got too cocky, didn’t have a good plan against a daemon we had no info on, and so one of us stayed behind to fight. Fire took everything, all that was left behind was a necklace and a sword,” you explained. “We assumed the watch melted in the fire, they’re not very heat resistant, you see, even Carter has to be mindful of his temperature with the newer models. So your theory is that someone got their hands on Cos’ watch and now they’re wreaking havoc,” you finish with a question and Alex answers with a nod. 

“It’s all I have to work with,” he says. Tim looks over the details carefully.

“Sounds right to me, but you know more than us in this situation, (Y/N),” Dick says. “All I can tell you is how we found it in the first place.”

“I’ll take anything.”

“I assumed it was yours only because it was on your seat after you left,” Tim says. “But now that I think about it, there’s no way I can know if someone dropped it off while I was knocked out, and your friends made sure to cut all the cameras during your escape too so we can’t even fall back on that.”

“I see.”

“For what it’s worth, it’s the same watch that sent us here too,” Tim adds on.

“Do you still have it?”

“No, Zee zapped it to the manor while she was trying to bring Jason and Tim back,” Constantine answers. “Did you need it?”

“It’d definitely help track who used it last.”

“Hypothetically,” Tim clears his throat.

“Hm?”

“Could it also do that if it was broken?” Tim asks quietly. You blink.

“Which one of you broke it.”

“For the record, I was trying to get it back so we could study it more. I have no clue what Jason wanted it for.”

“Well, there goes the main lead,” you shrugged. “Gotta look around for a different avenue then,” you turned to Alex, who leaned against the table next to you.

Then, for the final time, the door opens.

“Your Highness,” you fixed your expression quickly just as Allistor and Alex stood at attention.

“At ease,” he says, seemingly reading the room quite quickly. “I have a message for you from the Queen,” he looks around. “I’m afraid it can’t wait.”

“Just say it, your highness.”

“You’re ending your bedrest early, your services are required.”

“Does the Queen know her perfect soldier’s not reattaching anymore?”

“You’re not reattaching?” The Prince is shocked.

“Nope, Dr. Bronte wanted me to wait until the wounds are healed over before doing anything intensive,” you explained. “‘Fraid I can’t do work right now.”

“That’s…” the Prince swallows harshly. “It can’t wait,” he says with a more serious tone.

“Look, Your Highness, I know your word is law but what good will (Y/N) be if she worsens her condition,” Alex cuts in. The Prince glares at him and he matches his look. “Whatever it is—”

“The Queen is demanding for the Dark Knight,” Calvin blurts out. Your jaw clenches just as you feel the attention turn to you.

“That’s out of the question. Even for our normal operations we need to be in top condition, going on a special ops mission could put so much strain that I might actually lose a limb.” You chanced a glance at your hand, the scars more prominent than ever.

“Please, you know as well as I do that this is just a formality,” Calvin argues. He looks you over. “You’re fine.” You’ve never heard him take that tone before.

“Take it up with Bronte then,” Allistor argues.

“It’s a royal order.”

“Doctor’s orders can overwrite those if they believe the patient’s health is not in the best interest,” Allistor cited. “How long are you going to argue, Your Highness?”

“Give me a few days then, I’ll report in as soon as I can, and I’m not stupid enough to disregard Dr. Bronte’s diagnosis,” you finally answered. If you said no the Queen would’ve come here herself to tell you to do it anyway, and you didn’t want her crossing paths with your family unless absolutely necessary. As long as you don’t strain yourself too much it should be fine anyway, you think. Calvin seemed to relax at this.

“We’ve sent the details over.”

“Figured. Is there anything else you need, Your Highness?” You open the file on the holoscreen and start to read the details.

“No, that’s all.”

“Actually, perfect timing, Your Highness, I’ll give you the debrief on my mission,” Allistor kicks off the wall and approaches the prince, urging him out of the room. “Top secret stuff, we should leave.”

“Ah, yes—” Allistor shuts the door behind them.

“Is it… is it really just a formality?” Tim asks after a short pause. “You’re really fine?”

“You saw the labs, and you see me now. If anything I should just be more mindful of just tanking my way through enemies,” you say.

“I was just thinking… they haven’t even set up a heart monitor for you, how would they be able to tell if you’re stable?” Tim looks at the unplugged device with its wires wrapped around the base. “I haven’t seen another doctor or nurse walk by aside from the ones who’ve been helping you…”

“Drake, I could use your insight, actually,” Alex interrupts him. “All of you could help, really. It might speed up this whole daemon process faster,” he clears his throat. “You’re outside sources, and Constantine and I are gathering as much information as we can from the daemons, if you’re okay with answering a few questions. Might get you home earlier if we can crack it,” he says.

“Yes, we should focus on the pressing task,” you push yourself up and feel the scars stretching. “Unnff,” you winced and held your hand up, already feeling Tim’s hand hovering behind you. “Just need air, this room’s stuffy,” you moved toward the window and looked outside before settling on its sill. “Anything else you need from me?” You looked around the room.

“Nothing too pressing, Captain,” Alex answers.

“Good, I’ll take my leave too then,” you cleared your throat. It was silent for a moment and you looked down the window before glancing at the clock. You leaned backward and the first person you saw halfway out the window was Dick.

“Are you crazy?!” He shouts.

“Relax! I got her!” Jason shouts under you, catching you easily and setting you down. “I’m not gonna die for helping you break out of hospital jail, right?”

“Nope, let’s go,” you ran off as soon as the door slammed open. You both took off, seeing your motorcycle parked and at the ready.

“Here, you be backpack,” Jason shoved the helmet in your hand and you pushed it back.

“What? No! You be backpack!” Jason pushed the helmet back into your hands.

“Hell no, I’m bigger therefore I need more space.” You groaned and pushed it back to him.

“And I’m shorter therefore it makes more sense for me to be in the front! And you’d have less space in the front!” Jason tries to pull the helmet from your hands and you pull back.

“Womp womp, you’re backpack.”

“It’s my bike!”

“I’m older!”

“Fine! Just give me the helmet!” He tries to tug it harder and you pull back, seeing him lose his footing for a second.

“No! You’re just going to shove it on my head and make me backpack!” 

“When’d you get so strong anyway?!”

“Shut up and let me drive!”

“Busted,” Dick pulled the helmet from between your hands. You and Jason paused.

“Bruce says we’re both hardheaded anyway,” you climbed on the motorcycle and Jason was quick to follow. You revved the engine and left dust in your trail.

“You two, I swear!” Dick shouts from far behind.

“So where are we going anyway?!” Jason shouts over the air.

“Keep your mouth shut, you’ll catch a bug,” you grinned, revving forward and completing your escape.

You read the mission details. You really did have to deal with this now. The daemon problem was bad enough, and you knew that you couldn’t deal with another war on top of that.

~

Earth - 617

“Thank you so much, Cass,” Zatanna smiles as the former hands her a warm mug.

“Sure,” she crosses her arms and continues to watch Zatanna work away.

“I still can’t believe it, was (Y/N) really here?” Barbara asks. “We didn’t even get to see her, I bet those boys said something stupid and chased her out,” she shakes her head. “She… she was really going through it those last few days, I can only imagine how her mind spun when she returned,” she frowns.

“Cass, what do you think?” Stephanie asks. “You were closest to her.”

“I don’t understand why it affected her so much,” Cass mumbles. “Almost all of us aren’t blood-related,” she says, “I don’t understand why she…” she stumbles over her words and falls silent.

“It’s okay Cass, you don’t have to force it,” Steph says.

“Oh! I think I got it!” Zatanna finishes tinkering with the watch and holds it up, the piece now put back together. “The only thing is, I’m not sure if the enchantment on it would still work,” she says, placing it on the console of the bat computer. “I’ll look into it more tomorrow, I don’t want to accidentally trigger it without fully understanding how it works like those other two did.”

“Fair enough,” Barbara nods. She had been trying to send a message to any of the boys’ comms all day but hadn’t had any success. Luckily, her distress signal to the League was answered and soon enough they’d have a few extra support from other heroes in Batman’s absence but she was worried that it wouldn’t be enough. The region was down five vigilantes, and soon enough the villains will take notice.

But the conversation fell on deaf ears. Cass hadn’t stopped thinking about that night since it happened, and it bothered her that nothing made sense about it. She knew that Tim wasn’t the type to let anything suspicious slide, so why did he let you stay for so long without confronting you? Why did you act the way you did? 

“So frustrating…” she muttered, now alone in the bat cave and staring at the mocking watch. True to Zatanna’s words, it had been hastily put back together and looked to be in shape. Whether it worked or not was yet to be seen, however. She picked it up, the chain threading around her hands, and with extreme caution, she opened it up. Just the same as before she saw the layers of clock hands atop a starry watchface. “Hm…” she closed it and turned it around again before focusing on the watch cover. She squints carefully and sees another opening on it and, out of curiosity, she pried it open. This time it sported a normal watch face, well, semi-normal. She pulled up on the attachment and hummed again. Not often you see sundials as big as your hand. But, perhaps even more curious, was the picture on the backside of the cover. A blonde woman who she’d never seen before with a smile as warm as the sun. Handwritten in small print were the words ‘Come home safe, Cosmo.’

“Cosmo, huh?” Cass closes the watch and stares up at the bat computer, watching the figure talking to Damian over and over again. But distractions were just that. Distractions. And soon she once again felt that foreign emotion climb up inside of her. She truly should have tried harder that night three years ago. All of this, all of this had to be some kind of sick karma.

~

2019 - Gotham University

“(Y/N)? What is all this?” Cassandra asked quietly. You stumbled to your feet, dropping the syringe in your hands, then knocking over the other syringes on the lab table to the ground and the shattering glass caused you to jump. Cass looked around the lab, splotches of red on the tables and floors, unknown serums were mixed into beakers, and syringes— so many syringes— in the glass waste cans everywhere.

“Cassie, I didn’t hear you come in,” you picked up the glass from the ground and disposed of it, then you wiped off the blood on your hands while ignoring the fresh drops that came from the small cuts that littered your palms. “Just my thesis, no worries. I’d never seen it get this crazy though,” you laughed quietly. “Then again, rats aren’t exactly supposed to blow up so there’s that too,” you sighed. “What’s wrong?”

Cass freezes in her spot, her mind overwhelmed by all the signals you were throwing at her, signals that just weren’t supposed to come from you. They were so powerful that she could almost feel them herself.

Dilated pupils, shaking hands —> Anxiety

Tense shoulders, clenched jaw —> Stress

Even breathing, controlled movements —> Understanding?

Why were all of your movements conflicting?

Bloodied hands, chipped nails, whitened knuckles —> Stress

Hunched posture, shifting eyes —> Stress

“Cassie?”

Quiet voice.

“Sorry, must look like a crime scene in here.” She watched you pick up the carcasses from the tables and drop them into biohazard. “I must have gotten too excited, I thought I finally cracked the code.” You washed your hands off after scrubbing the blood from the tables. And all the while, Cass watched you.

You scrubbed the blood off the tables so harshly that the pads of your hands lightened from the pressure. You scrubbed them over and over again as if you didn’t know the blood had been cleaned off already. Then you repeated it with your hands.

Conclusion —> Something is very wrong.

“What…” she muttered.

“Hm?” You rubbed the towel over your hands repeatedly.

“What were you about to inject there?” She asks. You shake your head.

“Ah, don’t even worry about it,” you shook your head and tossed the towel before shoving your hands in your labcoat’s pockets. You were lying. You always hid your hands when you lied. “Just a little project, is all. I felt like the syringe wasn’t working so I was testing the tip on myself.”

“Right over your vein?” You fell silent.

“What are you doing here, Cass?” You asked monotonously. “Dick and Tim have already asked me to come home. I won’t. I can’t. Not until I finish this. He won’t let me come back there until I’ve proven myself.”

“Proven what? Come home, (Y/N). What are you doing to yourself?” Cass couldn’t stop it. The signals kept coming. “You’re going to work yourself to death, (Y/N), and for what? You and Bruce fight all the time, just come home and apologize!”

“I’m not in the wrong, Cass! It wasn’t my fault but he kept saying it was!” Your hand smacked your chest now while the other held onto the table for support. “How was I supposed to know that I wasn’t his daughter?!” Your shoulders slumped and Cass’s expression dropped.

“What are you talking about? You’re (Y/N) Wayne.”

“I thought I was too,” your whole body seemed to sink. “How was I supposed to know I was the cuckoo bird…” you mumbled.

“You can’t be talking about that article that came out, (Y/N). That’s just gossip and you know it,” she says.

“I know, I know but I looked into it anyway. You know I always did wonder why I was so ordinary compared to my parents,” you looked at your hands, convinced there was still blood on them. “I know Selina and I aren’t related. She was just the unfortunate soul who my mother found first. But I was so convinced that Bruce was my father that I didn’t even consider the possibility that he wasn’t.”

“Why does that matter, (Y/N)? None of us are his biological children except for Damian.”

“Because…” you mumbled the rest, clutching your head and digging that hand into the roots of your hair to stop the incoming headache.

“Because what?” Cass took careful steps toward you.

“He told me that I couldn’t come home until I proved that I had some value to this family,” your voice was hopeless. “If I’m not a blood Wayne then I have nothing else.”

“I’m sure that’s not…”

“Then why did he say that to me then, Cass?” You squeezed your eyes shut. “It’s too late for me to become a vigilante, I don’t have the time or the luxury for that.”

“What were you planning to do?” Cass looks around the lab again. “(Y/N)?” She knew that the syringe looked oddly green.

“Nothing, I wasn’t going to do anything,” you straightened your posture as if nothing had happened. Carefully, she took another step toward you, and now you stood at arm’s length.

Dark circles, sunken cheeks —> Sleep deprived

Chapped lips, dry eyes —> Dehydrated

Thinned hair, pale skin —> Deficient

“Cass?” Had your voice been so hoarse? She took a step forward and pulled you into her arms. Slowly, you relaxed into them, a shaky sigh leaving your mouth as you carefully wrapped your own around her. Your hug that was so famously warm was now the opposite, the tightness of it that your family sought after was missing, but the love behind it was still there. “I love my family, Cass. I don’t want to leave you all,” you said into her shoulder.

“Then come home,” she says against your head.

“I can’t.” Cass could feel your tears drop onto her shoulder. “Cass, he won’t let me,” you insisted.

“That doesn’t sound like Bruce,” she says, pulling away just enough to look at you. But soon, and once again, her expression falls when she sees your face.

“I know.”

Not Your Classic Vigilante: @gabytodd @peachydokii @marshmallow12435

@f0leysgurl @luminaaz @lolsnack

@akuri-shinsou @pansinspace @time-shardz

@lovely-maryj @urminebutidontwantyou @y3oudsc 

@rainnyydaysworld  @underworlder @franini

@mayo-0-o @mileskisser @nightw-izhu

@alishii @bluebear142077 @miso-sopas

@enjisthings 

[joaosnovia]

4th times the charm (atp i’m js saying anything) gavi gets transported to morocco for a game, BUT while he’s there thru the shops he sees this BEAUTIFUL moroccan princess and they fall in love 😻🙏

❦ - stadium lights in casablancan nights

summary: gavi is called for international duty against morocco and finds love in the stands.

warnings: none!! however there’s a slight plot chance that was dmed to me afterwards xx

writers note: i love this idea and don’t ‘4th times the charm’ me mate your last 3 requests were diabolical?? who would read culpa mia but w gavi and snow white but gavis the princess?? 😭😭 also did someone say overwriting 😱

word count: 2k

The overwhelming roar of the crowd in Casablanca’s Mohammed V Stadium was quite deafening, but that made gavis pulse raise even more. His heart raced not because of nerves, but for the fact that he wants to prove himself. Back in the world cup 2022 he scored a goal against costa rica that showed that he wasn’t just another kid from la masia, he was truly a star. However, a few matches later his first world cup dream came to a crash. Round of 16 vs morocco.

As the anthems faded to an end and the refs whistle blew, he jogged into place and let the game get into its usual rhythm, clear chances, passes, tackles and fouls. And there it was. a goal! Perfect goal may i add by lamine yamal. The stadium erupted into cheers as gavi made his way to the corner flag to celebrate with his teammate, not only internationally but from his club that’s always been by his side.

However, this wasn’t just a normal celebration, something pulled his gaze upwards, and that’s when he saw it, her. Throughout the wave of opposing fans, one face stood out to him, a gorgeous girl, hands gripping the railing with her jaw dropped. It was obvious she wasn’t cheering for spain though, her kit and flag proved that inference. Yet her gaze found his, holding it for longer than it should’ve.

Eventually, half time pulled around as gavi made his way to the locker room. But that didn’t stop him from looking for her though. She hadn’t moved from that spot, instead she was stood up, laughing with her friends leaning against that very same railing, but her focus wasn’t on her friends. Her gaze was on the pitch, as if she was looking for something, making gavi wonder if it’s him that she’s looking for.

Pedri, who was standing right next to him, nudged him and said, ‘Focus hermano, she’s way out of your league.’, in a teasing tone, making gavi smirk but no response came out of him. He knew this wasn’t the last time their paths would cross.

The final whistle blew, the score ending in a 2-1 narrow victory to Spain, with players exchanging handshakes and shirts. Even though they had a successful match, that didn’t shift his mind from the mystery girl, his eyes shifting to her every couple of minutes.

After plucking up the courage to approach her, he noticed her still laughing with her friends, her smile lighting him up.

Without giving it a second thought, he jumped over the barrier, passing security and approached her. Some may call him cocky for the confidence but she noticed and found it amusing that he tried to get her attention. Although security refused to let him get any closer, he ushered her to come closer, and she complied, with her friends teasing her.

‘Hola, did you enjoy the match?’, he asked in almost a whisper to avoid attention from others.

She tilted her head, and her lips formed into a smile, laughing to herself and replied with, ‘Even though Spain won? I guess so’ she said in a playful tone, with her soft accent coming out.

They exchanged names however it caught Gavi off guard.

‘Wait you don’t know my name?’ asked Gavi in an almost concerned tone.

‘No, I know your name.. I just wanted to hear you say it.’ she said, her soft smile widening.

‘Gavi’ he said, chuckling, in a quiet voice.

Her friends called her from behind and she glanced back, reluctant to leave. ‘Looks like I have to go..’ she said.

‘Wait.’ Gavi said quickly, removing his shirt, and handed it to her, the faint smell of grass clinging to it. ‘Something to remember this match by.’

She took the shirt, her fingers brushing his for a small second, ‘Gracias, Gavira.’ she said, making his heart race.

There was one thing he knew for certain, he had to see her again.

The next few days in Casablanca was an absolute blur for him, media videos, training sessions and team meeting, but she couldn’t get out of his mind. Her smile, her laugh and how her gaze lasted for longer than even she wanted it to.

That’s when he realised, it wasn’t the match, it was her.

After hours of practice, the team had some downtime before their flight back to Madrid. Gavi found himself roaming the streets with Pedri, just so he didn’t seem like a loner.

‘So you’re really attached to this girl, hermano?’, asked Pedri almost with genuine concern.

Gavi sighed and yet again, didn’t have a reply for that and continued walking.

That’s when he saw her, for the second time, except she was alone in a small cafe.

He hesitated for a moment, Pedri staying outside, as Gavi made his way over.

‘Mind if i join?’ he asked, grabbing a chair from a nearby table.

She looked up, surprised as a smile was spread across her face. ‘Gavi’ she said ‘How come you’re not with your team?’

‘I mean, I was..’ he said, taking a seat opposite her. ‘But I figured i’d explore some more. Seems like I found the right place’

She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. ‘So you spend your free time chasing random girls that you see during matches?’

He smirked, leaning back into the chair, ‘Only the interesting ones.’

She laughed softly, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of her teacup. ‘Not sure if that’s flattering or too forward’

Gavi’s smile softened, ‘A bit of both, cariño.’

‘Well i’ve seen you play, you’re good. But i’m sure you know that by now.’

He chuckled, ‘I don’t need compliments, but i’ll take them’

She smiled again, ‘So what’s a footballer like you doing in this small cafe in Casablanca?’

He looked out the window for a second, and then back at her, ‘I guess i’m looking for things that matter besides football’

Her gaze softened, ‘And have you found that yet?’

‘I’m getting closer.’ he paused, ‘Listen, I don’t know how long i’m gonna be here, but I want to see you again’

Unsure of how to really respond to that, she said ‘Maybe. If you’re lucky.’ in a mysterious tone.

And that’s when he knew he wouldn’t be leaving this city any time soon.

Due to the weather in Spain, their trip extended a few more days, but she didn’t need to know that.

On the last night of their stay, Gavi slipped away from the hotel and didn’t tell anyone, not even Pedri that he was going back to that very same cafe.

The night air was cooler than he expected but the night life still stayed active.

It wasn’t that long until he saw the cafe again, although it was late, it was still open and a few people were still in there.

He hesitated for a moment before entering again and the owner looked up at him and said,

‘Gavi, right? You’re here for someone I figured, and if so you’re in the right place, habibi.’

Gavi, uncertain by her words, followed her over to the table, where he saw here for the third time.

He sat opposite her, letting his eyes linger on her for a second before she broke the silence.

‘Gavi, I thought you wouldn’t turn up.’, she said, following with the familiar smile that Gavi loved.

‘I couldn’t stay away.’ he replied

And to that she chuckled and said, ‘You’re a lot more complicated than i thought Pablo.’

He grinned, trying to hide his emotions, leaning back into his chair, ‘I’ve been told.’

She stood up and said, ‘Listen Gavi, it’s getting late, I need to get going, and you should too.’

‘Wait,’ Gavi said ‘Can you please see me play again.’, he asked in an almost pleading tone.

She looked back, with an unreadable expression and said, ‘And you think i’ll say yes?’

‘I was hoping that you’ll surprise me.’

‘Maybe.’

And with that, she left.

A few weeks passed by, and the memory of you lingered in his brain. He hadn’t seen her since that night in the cafe, but your time together was the only thing on his mind.

Now he was in the Montjuïc, at a home game for laliga, as the stadium was packed with culers from all over the world as usual. But this match felt different.

As the game kicked off, Gavi instantly fell into the usual match rhythm yet his thought remained on her.

There was a small pause in play, as he re adjusted his socks, someone caught his eye. It was her.

There she was, in the VIP section, her barca scarf tucked around her shoulders.

He froze for a second, his heart hammering in his chest. She was no longer a memory, she was there in real time. Eventually, he snapped back into focus.

The scoreline was 1-1 and he knew that he needed to be the change that he wanted to see, so he took a risk and shot it in the direction of the net, bracing himself for the result. And there it was, a goal to put barca in the lead.

Pablo sprinted to the corner to celebrate and he looked up to see her in the stands with her hands over her mouth in shock. Then she smiled, her face full of pride. He noticed that, and made a small gesture, pointing towards her.

After the match was over, he saw her waiting with security by the players exit.

‘You made that goal look easy’ she said, her voice with a teasing tilt.

Before he could answer that, he had a question in his head.

‘You came all this way, why?’ He said, his eyes searching for hers.

‘I wanted to see if you’d keep your promise’

‘And did I?’

‘Yes.’ she replied with a subtle smile.

It had gotten to the point where they finally exchanged numbers, making his heart flutter.

The next laliga match was against sociedad which was quite a big match if you think about it. He had just completed his pre game superstitions until he received a message

‘i heard you’re not as bad as they say, wanna prove it? 😉’

He grinned, feeling a rush of excitement.

‘i thought i already did that’ he typed back.

‘okay, meet me at the cafe tomorrow.’

He arrived at the cafe as soon as the match was over and he was lost in thought. What were they? He knew they weren’t a fling but he didn’t know what to label it.

‘You’re early’ she said as she walked in.

‘Came as soon as the match ended’ he replied.

‘Okay Pablo, i’m gonna start off with why i asked you to come here. You’re the first guy who’s come into my life with a smile and a promise. But i’m not interested in that.’ she started.

He leaned in, ‘What’re you interested in then.’

‘Something real.’

‘So am I, and i’m not going anywhere.’

‘So prove it.’

And with those three words, the barrier between them was broken.

They went for a walk on the quiet streets of Barcelona, the night air brushing their faces. Neither of them spoke but the silence was enough for the both of them.

He turned to face her, ‘Listen. I don’t want you to go, just stay.’

She looked back at him and said, ‘Gavi.’

He didn’t let her continue because he felt like he already knew the answer to that and closed the gap between them.

Eventually, she found her way into extending her stay and renting an apartment in Barcelona to stay wiyh Gavi

Months past until they decided to make it official to the public, they both figured it out, the fame and distance.

One evening, they both sat on the balcony until he turned to face her.

‘So this is what i’ve been looking for. I’ve finally found what matters besides football.’ Gavi said.

She smiled back at him, realising that this is all she wanted too.

[youkissedareaderinthedark]

Dear Spa

Synopsis: The Belgian Grand Prix haunts the grid once again

young female mercedes driver reader x F1 2023 grid

(george is on williams with alex, logan is the reserve driver)

We can’t remember “before you”

“Hi!” You grinned into the microphone when an interviewer called you over, to stand beside your teammate, Lewis. “Hi Y/n” He pulled you into a side hug. “Y/n, Mercedes have been looking fast so far, what can we expect from you two today?”

“Well, we hope to get onto the podium, and if not that, then just into the top 5 would be nice”

“And Lewis, what are your expectations for the cars today?”

“I mean, as Y/n said, we’re looking for the car to be in the top 5 at least. We’ve all been working hard in the garage and at the factory and we can only hope it pays off”

“Okay, thank you two, good luck today” The interview said as you two walked away and into the paddock.

2023 was your first year driving for Mercedes, although your third year in Formula 1. Toto Wolff had recruited you from Alpine in the middle of 2022 and had signed you for four years to drive alongside Lewis Hamilton. Seeing as you were much younger than him, you had developed a mentor-mentee relationship with the British man, and he became one of your closest friends on the grid. He gives you advice whenever he can and defends you when the racing world becomes too critical of you.

Right as you were walking through the paddock, you feel two arms wrap around your shoulders. “Hola” “Bonjour” Two accented voices say. “Hey guys, you ready for the race?” You grin at Charles and Carlos as you throw your arms around their shoulders.

“Yes, I can’t wait to be ran off the track again” Charles teases.

Two weeks ago, you ran his Ferrari off the track without even realizing it when he was trying to overtake you. He’s not mad since he ended that race in P3, but he still doesn’t miss an opportunity to tease you about it.

“That was two weeks ago, Chuck. Forgive and forget” You reply

“Don’t worry Y/n, I’ll just wave when I pass you” The Spainard says.

“And are you going to impede me if you do?”

“If I feel like it” He smiles. You laugh “I’ll see you guys later, good luck” You call as they walk towards the Ferrari garage.

You see George, Alex, and Lando together next. “Hey guys” You smiled as you brought each of them into a side hug. “Y/n, so, you remember how we asked you to come golfing with us on Tuesday and you said no?” George asked.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Well, we asked Lily and Carmen to come along, so you won’t be bored when you join” He smiles as if he came up with the smartest idea possibly.

“Oh, seriously you guys?” You threw your head back as the trio smirked.

“Alright, I’ll come with you. I’m not golfing though”

“Aw thanks, Y/n, you always know how to make us feel loved” Lando said sarcastically.

“We’ll see you after the race, Y/n, good luck” Alex called over his shoulder as the three friends walked away.

“Good luck”

“Alright Y/n, you ready?” Lewis asked you as you stood across from each other in the Mercedes garage. You two were about to start your formation lap, but not without seeing the other off first.

“Of course. We’re going to do great, good luck” You smiled, then you remember you were wearing your helmets, so you hoped he could tell by your eyes that weren't yet covered by the visor. He removed the hands that were on your shoulders.

“Good luck”

There was during you...

You sat in your car as the thirty-second warning came on. Your car rested at the P6 position, Lewis in front of you and Checo Perez behind you. It was supposed to be a good race, the skies were clear, the stands were full, and all ten teams were optimistic.

“Alright everybody, as the red lights come one, everybody clears the track” The voice of David Crofty becomes audible.

You take a deep breath, tighten your grip on the wheel, and focus your gaze on the lights above you.

1...

2...

3..

4..

5..

“And its light’s out and away we go in Spa! Max Verstappen gets away with no trouble, Charles Leclerc following after him into Turn 1. Fernando Alonso isn’t as lucky, scrambling to get away from Carlos Sainz’ Ferrari behind him. Lewis Hamilton manages just fine, as does his teammate behind him, Y/n L/n, pulling away from Checo Perez easily”

There’s a lot you probably should be worried about, but you’re glad you're not. You navigate through the race pretty easily, both Mercedes staying in their respective places until Lap 17. Carlos overtook Fernando, and now your teammate is attempting to do the same.

“Alonso, about to lose two places as Lewis Hamilton closes in on him in Sector. 3 He’s going for it. Hamilton down the outside...can he pull it off? Yes he can! Lewis Hamilton P4 and the show isn’t over for Fernando here. Y/n L/n wants a bit of action too, she’s going for it, their nearing Turn 3...”

DRS is on and you’re not giving up. You go down the inside of the Aston Martin, you’re Parrell to him, you’re going wheel to wheel...

“They touch! Contact between Alonso and L/n! L/n gets turned around and- oh no! Sergio Perez hits into the side of her car! Oh my...that looked...” For the first time in a while, David Crofty is speechless.

Suddenly there is debris everywhere. It’s an immediate red flag and the reflexes of the drivers behind Perez are tested as they try to avoid the collision in the middle of the track. The crash caused Sergio’s car to slow down, but it also set your car forward again which allows his to accelerate again. The Red Bull pauses, waiting for the cars behind him to clear before moving forward and stopping his car at the limits of the track.

“What happened?”

“Who was that?”

“That..that looked bad. Who was it?”

“That was Y/n? Is she okay?”

It all happened too fast. As a Formula 1 driver, you needed to have the fastest reflexes possible, but this time, if you blinked, you’ve already missed half of it. You knew your car had been sprawled sideways across the track, you just didn’t know Checo Perez was a second and a half behind you.

It felt like the entire right side of your body had bowling balls thrown at it. You tried overtaking Fernando on a straight, so the Red Bull crashed into you with full power. Your hip felt the most force, but your legs were crushed under the dented medal of your car. You couldn’t even feel your right arm and it’s better that you didn’t. The crash knocked your head straight into the left side of your headrest and even with that bulky helmet, you were seconds away from unconsciousness.

For reasons you couldn’t figure out and didn’t have the time to, the words said in your last conversation swam in your head.

“Good luck”

“Good luck”

“Good luck”

If this is good luck, then what is bad luck?

You thought as your eyes closed. You didn’t have to find out, because the luck that was your life, runs out.

Eighteen cars are back in the pitlane, but Sergio Perez’s Red Bull remains out on the track. He turns off his car no problem, but his shaky hands cannot seem to unbuckle the harness that keeps him in his seat. He’s been in Formula 1 a long time, and he can’t thoroughly describe it, only as a terrible, terrible feeling, one you have all over your body. He’s only felt it once and he never wanted to feel it again. His body is in déjà vu, thinking of the terrible day in Japan, in denial of this day in Spa.

He pulls himself out of the car and sprints towards you. “Y/n!” He screams as loud as he possibly can. “Y/n!” He’s muttering curses and pleadings. “Y/n please” He lifts your visor to reveal your closed eyes. The Mexican swears again and looks around frantically for the medical team. He weaves his arms through the halo and starts shaking your shoulders. Segio doesn’t know what it’ll do but he doesn’t know what else he can do.

He unbuckles your harness as well before removing your helmet and balaclava whilst his brain is trying to remember the safety procedures he was taught. The man places two fingers underneath your chin where your pulse point is supposed to be. Except it isn’t, and Sergio Perez begins to panic. He tries to be still for a moment, watch your nose and your mouth and your chest for any signs of breathing, and places his hands over his own helmet covered face. His voice breaks. “Y/n”

Flashes of red lights dance across your reflective visor and the sound of sirens becomes audible. He keeps his head rested on the side of your car and his hands clasped together in a prayer, hoping that the crash could be undone. There are wheels squeaking against the track and footsteps rushing around and he feels a hand placed on his shoulder.

“Sergio, are you okay? Come over here, you need a checkup...” A marshal drones on but Checo’s mind is on you. That terrible feeling is drowning him, forcing him to remember how it felt when he learned Jules Bianchi died and how he promised to never let a friend die. Sergio Perez has been in Formula 1 a long time; he should know not to make promises you can’t keep.

But we never thought there’d be an “after” you

The Mercedes garage knows first. The message comes from a radio and Lewis thinks that no message that important should be given by a radio.

He’s angry first. The British man is not known for his rage, but it escapes him before he can control it. He’s been out of his car for almost 10 minutes by now, Toto telling him to come out when 20 minutes passed, and they hadn’t been given an update. Lewis was listening to the station the medical team uses, and he, like everyone else in the room, was still.

“We’ve completed the examination, there is no pulse. Y/n L/n is dead”

A calm, before the storm.

He grabs the radio before anyone can react and is shouting without even realizing it. “No you haven’t. You check and you check again and again until she walks back here, okay?” Lewis’s voice breaks and his heart knows it even though his brain is denying it.

“I’m sorry but she’s-”

“No, no, she isn’t anything. She is fine and you bring her back here right now. You tell her I need to talk to her, you tell her I need her right now” A sob slips from his mouth and he’s buried his head in his hands as if taking his eyes off the world would bring her back into it.

The normally stoic Toto Wolff has tears shining in his eyes and Susie is crying next to him. The engineers in the room don’t know what to do, only that they want to go home and miss you and try to convince themselves they’ll see you later, walking out of the hotel with a smile on your face, rushing to catch your flight.

The FIA knows your relationship with the rest of the drivers well enough that none of them will have the heart and mind to finish the race. They radio each of the team’s garage’s one at a time, breaking the news and informing them of their decision.

David Crofty and Martin Brundle know next, and they are graced with the gift of telling almost 400 thousand people that one of their drivers have died. David Crofty and Martin Brundle are well into their age and have seen a lot but seeing a young woman killed doing what she loved in a freak accident? No, that’s too much.

A heavy silence fills Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps and the fans are stunned into the silence of reality.

The drivers are questioning themselves for the first time since 2019. Charles Leclerc breaks down into tears and he’s not sure how many more loved ones he can lose before he crumbles completely. Pierre Gasly sobs at the thought of having to lay another bouquet of flowers at this track and this time, without you by his side.

Esteban Ocon is spiraling into déjà vu and Yuki Tsunoda is torn between comforting himself, Daniel Ricciardo, or making the trip to Alpine to see his best friend. In that moment, the Australian is sure he will never smile again because you aren’t here it mirror it or cause it. Carlos Sainz hopes he never loses one of his sisters but if he does, he knows it will feel like this. The Spainard only wished to protect you and keep you happy and is left crying while his wishes fall away just like his tears.

Fernando Alonso knows this is something that will be engraved in his mind for every second of every day for the rest of his life. People assure him, it’s not your fault, it was a freak accident, but it doesn’t feel like it. He knows how to defend, especially without making contact, so how do you explain this? The man is advised not to let the grief consume him, but he welcomes it, lives with it until November, when he announces his retirement and knows that it’s permanent this time.

Lando Norris, George Russel, and Alex Albon are in states of disbelief.

We were talking, not even two hours ago... she was supposed to go with us...

You were supposed to go golfing with the three, yes, but you were also meant to go through Formula 1 with them. Be there for every podium, every win, every World Championship the four of you always dreamed of winning. Now they just dream of getting one more minute with you.

Dear Spa, stop killing our friends

[fili-urzudel]

A Kiss Hello - Fíli x Reader

Hey guys, look who keeps overcommitting :D

Anyway how about instead of any of the requests I have in my inbox you read a short piece I wrote in November 2022?

Word Count: 0.7k

Warnings: none

Fíli had always thought it was a bit of a strange greeting and goodbye. One kiss to each cheek, your hands easily resting on his shoulders to pull him in. You told him it was normal where you came from, and he supposed he wasn't one to tell you you weren't allowed to practice your culture near him.

It helped that he didn't exactly mind. You had lived with them under the mountain for years, and he was still the only one left with a burning face and butterflies in his stomach once you were out of sight.

"Fíli, this is getting ridiculous," Kíli sighed goofily as they traversed the halls of the mountain, trying to find the longest and most time-consuming route to their meetings. "I can see hearts in your eyes whenever she's around, why don't you just... confess?"

"Because I'm not you, Kíli," Fíli said, a bit agitated. "It's expected of me to find a nice dwarrowdam and settle down, keep our people happy. I can't just... just..."

"Just be happy with the woman you so obviously love?" Kíli interrupted, seemingly unfazed by his brother's sharp words. "You're free to make your own decisions, but I can promise you will live with regret forever if you don't do something. And soon."

Fíli looked slightly up at his younger brother. "What is that supposed to mean? What do you know?"

Kíli shrugged, eyes trained on the path ahead of them. He wasn't smiling anymore.

"Kíli!" Fíli felt his frustration rising, and with it, panic. What was happening? What were you going to do? "What, is she going to leave?"

Kíli only looked at him.

The golden prince's heart sank.

Was it his fault?

Fíli paced, wringing his hands, in the marketplace you always seemed to find yourself in, sometimes to sell, sometimes just to shop—oh, how he loved how vibrant you were when you shopped with him.

At this point, his heart was no longer in his stomach, but his feet. He couldn't stand it if you left, all because he chased you away, all because he was stupid and didn't know when to admit it—

"Y/N!" He interrupted his own thoughts, seeing you draw near. You held the basket you always used when shopping, the one he bought you in one of the towns you stopped at, before Erebor had even been won. It was looking a little worse for the wear, but you refused to give it up.

"Fíli!" You called back with a smile, but your eyes looked strained.

He wrestled with his brain, trying to figure out what to say first. His words became an incomprehensible knot. "Are you leaving?" He blurted. He just... he just really needed to know.

"Yes, actually, I am," you admitted, gazing at the floor. "I figured... I don't know, I think it's just time," you nodded, mouth twisted in a sad smile. "I hope you won't miss me too badly."

Fíli's heart raced. "Actually, if I could—"

A voice called out to you, and from the looks of it, it belonged to the head of a caravan you were looking to travel with.

"I'm so sorry, it looks like I have to go," you apologized, moving forward to bid him goodbye.

First, it was the right cheek, and as you moved to kiss his left, he turned, catching your lips with his.

The contact was fleeting, you startling back, flustered. "Oh, goodness, I'm sorry—"

You were still only centimeters from him. "Don't go," he murmured, moving to kiss you again. He didn't want to leave any doubt in your mind—that was not an accident.

His heart fluttered as he felt you kiss back, tilting your head as his hand rose to cup your face.

"I won't," you said as you pulled away, hot breath fanning across his face.

He felt eyes on the two of you from all sides. There would be no hiding this, no killing rumors or trying to keep a secret. "Good," he said, his lips still almost touching yours.

He had always liked your goodbyes, but this new beginning was much better.

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Kinktober Day 7: Phone sex with Felix

Trigger warnings: n/a

Content warnings: names (baby, baby girl, princess, sweetheart, dirty girl, pretty girl), guided/mutual masturbation, dirty talk, mc chokes herself for lix, they exchange nudes?, really just pushing gamer!lix honestly like this whole thing is entirely self-indulgent.

Summary: After meeting a sweet guy while gaming, you both finally work up the courage to let the conversation shift to a more intimate topic

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: hi all 🥰 after much consideration, i’ve decided to repost my kinktober 2022 stories. i had a great time writing these a couple years ago and want to share them again now that it’s been a while and i’ve had time to fall in love with them again. i hope you all enjoy! and by all means, feel free to send a message or comment here if you’d like to be part of the new tag list!

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

Smut below the cut

mikasaswife: happy seven months of having me in your life 💁🏻‍♀️

✨lixie✨ is online

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: you said that last month, dork 😆

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: i’ve been keeping track of it too 🙊 wanna play for a bit? i’m off today so i’ve got all the time in the world 😝

mikasaswife: ofc! lemme grab something rq and i’ll hop on 🥰

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: hah cute

You didn’t see his message until you returned and your cheeks went a soft pink. You’d met seven months ago over Rocket League and grew close pretty quickly. You followed each other on various social media platforms and you learned he lived in Australia, which was disheartening considering you were on the other side of the world.

Within about three weeks, he started subtly flirting with you, telling you how good you looked in your latest Instagram post and acting surprised that you were single when you got on the topic of sexuality and your dating history. It was always little remarks and you always welcomed it, oftentimes giving him the same energy, but you weren’t sure how to address your feelings with him.

mikasaswife: not as cute as you but ok

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: lies but ok 🥴

✨lixie✨ is typing…

✨lixie✨: i’m calling now 😌

You accepted the call as soon as it came in, already on the home screen and waiting for him to join. “Hey cutie.” As soon as you heard his deep voice, you smiled softly. “How was your day?”

“It was good except for that coworker I told you about a few weeks ago. How’d you sleep?” You hoped he’d just answer the question instead of trying to discuss what happened but you weren’t that lucky.

“I slept fine. You should really report him, y/n.” His voice was laced with concern and you sighed softly.

“I can’t. You know I work in a male-dominated field, that’ll just paint a target on my back.” You shook your head. “Plus it was online, they probably can’t even do anything about it. It’s fine, Lix.”

“It’s far from fine if you’re still having issues with him three weeks later.” He pointed out bluntly. “But I understand you don’t wanna talk about it so I’ll leave it alone.”

“Thank you.” A comfortable silence settled between you as you prepared for your first match until he finally spoke.

“Hey, I’m sorry if I made you upset.” Okay, maybe the silence was only comfortable for you.

“I’m not upset, I promise.” You smiled as you spoke, hoping it carried over in your voice. “I can’t be mad at you even if I wanted to be.”

“Is that so?” He sounded like he believed you. You could imagine the smile he was wearing right now and your heart fluttered.

“Mhm. I’ve tried.” You hummed as the game started. He got the jump on the ball and the battle began. It didn’t take long for your opponents to snag the ball and Felix went after them.

“You’ve tried to be mad at me?”

“Well it’s not fair how perfect you are.” You shrugged, assisting him as he made a play that sent the ball well over halfway down the field. You watched as he scored the first goal and grinned.

“I’m not perfect.” He chuckled softly, quietly cheering over his victory a moment later. The sound sent a delicious chill down your spine as your mind raced with inappropriate thoughts. “Now go steal the ball, princess.”

You wanted to protest but the name surprised you and you simply complied, racing towards the center of the field. Your opponents got the jump but after a few seconds of chasing, Felix came to your rescue and you ran the ball to the goal, scoring a second time. The game was halfway over by then. “Atta girl!”

You bit your lip at the praise, trying to suppress a smile. It was ridiculous how he was getting under your skin. By the end of the game, you were a mess. You had a massive crush and it was times like these that made it painfully obvious to anyone with two brain cells to rub together that you were really into Felix.

You were back on the home page when you decided to bug him a little. “So…’princess’ huh?”

“You seem like the princess type.” He hummed in response, not backing down like you’d anticipated. “I noticed you didn’t argue back when I said it, did you like it that much?” He teased, his tone dripping with playfulness. Now was your chance.

“Maybe I did.” You tried your hardest to sound nonchalant but you weren’t sure it was very effective.

“Just maybe? I guess I’ll have to try harder then.”

“I guess so.” You slumped in your seat as you listened to his breathing on the other end of the call.

“Can I be honest with you?” You felt anxiety settle in your belly at the thought of him telling you he was only messing around but assured him he could confide in you, not expecting what he said next. “I haven’t explicitly said it, I’ve only made cheeky comments here and there but…I really like you and I’ve been trying to keep this PG for months but I want you and I feel like I’m gonna fall to pieces if I don’t make a move.”

Your stomach and heart flipped simultaneously at his confession as your breath hitched. The silence was long and awkward but finally you found your voice. “You’re not teasing me are you?”

“One hundred percent God's honest truth. I can’t seem to get you out of my mind and right now I’m thinking of some less-than-innocent things.” You weren’t sure how it was possible for his voice to sound any deeper, but it did and it went straight to your pussy.

“Lixie…” You heard his breath hitch at the name and your imagination began to run wild. He’d look so pretty with his head thrown back, right on the edge from just your hands... “I don’t think it’s any secret that I feel the same way, that I’m thinking about the same things, but…how are we supposed to navigate this?”

“I’ll come visit you or get you here somehow. I’ll figure it out, sweetheart, because I feel like I’ll go insane if I don't have you in my arms. But why don’t we just enjoy each other for now?” His voice was warm and inviting and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no to him. You didn’t want to.

“Yeah okay…” You bit your lip and shifted in your seat, stifling a sigh when the seam of your jeans pulled taught across your already-aching cunt. “Can we? I want you too…”

“I’d be an idiot to turn you down.” You could hear his smile in his voice before his tone changed to one of more concern. “If you feel uncomfortable at any point, please tell me, okay?”

“I will, Lix.” You assured him and heard him shift in his seat.

“I like when you use nicknames instead of my full name.” He sighed. “Is it okay if I do the same?” You hummed an affirmation and he continued. “Tell me what you’re wearing, baby.”

“I’m in jeans and that purple crop top you like so much.”

“Can you send me a picture?” He would’ve asked you to turn your camera on for a video chat but he wanted to be able to look back at this for a while. You didn’t hesitate to grab your phone and take a picture on Snapchat, posing so your face wasn’t in the frame and your fingers loosely curled around the spaghetti strap of your crop top. You giggled softly as he cursed softly and saved the photo in the chat before speaking again. “So pretty…anything underneath?”

“Just a lacy black thong, no bra.” You offered up quietly and listened as he took a sharp inhale, placing your phone back on the desk.

“You’ll have to show me sometime, baby. That sounds hot as fuck.” He groaned softly and you shuddered, shifting in your seat again so your jeans hit just the right spot. “Why don’t you pull your top up and give your tits a little squeeze for me, hmm?”

You did as he asked, sliding your hands up your torso and under your shirt. You lifted it, bunching it below your chin, and let out a hum of contentment as you cupped your breasts and gently squeezed them. You then wet your middle fingers and teased your nipples, gasping at the sensation. “How’s it feel, princess?”

“Feels good, Lixie.” You sighed, letting your head rest against the back of the chair. “Wish it was you though. It’d be so much better if it was your mouth on my skin instead of my hands…”

“It would…” He agreed. “I’ll make it happen one way or another, baby girl, don’t worry.” You whined softly at the name and he chuckled. “You like that name?” You nodded but remembered he couldn’t see you so you offered a pathetic ‘mhm’ and he laughed again, deep and rich, drawing another sound from you. “Do you wanna take off those jeans, baby girl?”

You didn’t bother to respond, immediately standing up and taking your pants off. You opened Snapchat again and set the camera to record, making sure your face was out of frame as you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your thong. You swiveled your hips teasingly, pretending to take your panties off before turning around. You showed off your ass, jiggling your cheeks with your hands, and then pulled your top off before cutting off the camera.

“Baby? You still with me?”

“I am. I’m with you, Lixie.” He groaned at the name as you quickly cut the end of the video so it didn’t catch you turning around and hit send as you sat back down. You didn’t say anything else as you waited for him to open your message. You heard his phone buzz on his desk and bit your lip as you listened, watching the message change from ‘sent’ to ‘opened’.

He inhaled sharply through his nose then cursed under his breath. “Jesus, y/n, you’re killing me. Can I save this?”

“You can.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you got the notification and giggled softly. You didn’t expect him to send anything back but you were pleasantly surprised when he sent a photo of his tented gray sweats, captioned ‘this is your fault, princess’. After a beat of silence, during which you admired his bulge and his hand resting on his thigh, you spoke again. “Can I save this?”

“You can.” You immediately hit save and leaned back in your chair, placing your phone back on your desk. “I want you to run your hands down your body and tease your thighs, baby girl. Tell me how it feels, what exactly you’re doing.”

You wasted no time in running your hands down your torso before allowing your fingertips to graze along the insides of your thighs. You gasped at the sensation and lightly dragged your nails over the skin there. “Feels good…’m just barely touching my thighs, lightly scratching myself and imagining it’s your hands instead.”

You were starting to sound worked up and by this point, he was so hard it hurt. “Tell me more. Do you wanna touch yourself?”

“I do…can I?”

“You don’t need my permission, baby. Go ahead and touch yourself. Tell me all about it.”

“Are you?” You asked quietly as you slipped a hand into your panties. “Can you tell me what you’re doing too?”

“I am.” He confirmed, taking a stilted breath. “I’m just touching myself through my sweatpants right now, listening to your pretty sounds. I’m so fucking hard right now…”

His soft groan made you impossibly wetter and you whimpered as you finally ghosted your middle finger over your clit. “Good…I can’t be the only one this turned on.”

“And just how turned on are you?” His voice was a low rumble in your ears and you clenched around nothing as your free hand adjusted your headset.

“I’m fucking dripping, Lixie.” You whined, a small pout forming on your lips as you dipped a finger into your wetness. You dragged your arousal up to your clit and sighed at the sensation. “God I wish you were here right now, I just know your hands would feel so good…”

“Mm what about my mouth? I could eat you out forever if you’d let me.” You whimpered at the thought and stood abruptly, shoving your panties down your legs and dropping them with your jeans. You settled back in and draped your legs over the armrests of your gaming chair, immediately slipping your hand back between your legs. “Hey baby?” You hummed in response as your fingers circled your clit before teasing at your entrance. “Can you moan my name? I’m dying to hear it.”

You let your eyes slip shut and slid two fingers in your dripping cunt, a small moan tumbling from your lips as your palm ground against your clit while you stretched yourself open. You allowed yourself to imagine him knelt between your legs, fingers plunged deep inside you, and called out his name as you clenched at the thought. “Fuck, Felix, please…” Just as you moaned for him, your phone buzzed. You grabbed it and opened the Snapchat video he sent you, biting your lip when you saw the tip of his cock peeking out from his waistband, already drooling on his belly as his thumb brushed back and forth across his sweats. “Oh- can I save it?”

“Of course, princess.” You quickly saved it and bit your lip as you contemplated what you were about to ask. Before you could speak though, he beat you to it. “Baby…can we turn our cameras on? We don’t have to but I’d certainly like to see you.”

“I was about to ask the same thing…” As soon as the words left your lips, he switched his camera on and you were met with the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen. He was reclined in his gaming chair, shirtless and with his dick out. You wanted to reach through the screen the second you saw him. He settled back and waited for you to turn your camera on, wrapping his hand around his thick shaft as you tried to force your eyes away long enough to complete the task at hand. “You’re so fucking pretty, Lixie…” You whispered as you turned your camera on.

You saw his cock twitch in his hand and you weren’t sure if it was because of what you said or because of the way you presented yourself to him. Your LED lights paired with a lamp in the corner made you glow and your pussy glistened in the purple lighting. “Holy shit, baby girl…” His voice was strained as gave his cock a single tug before releasing it. “God I want a taste…can you tell me how you taste, princess?”

You eagerly stuffed your messy fingers in your mouth and sucked them clean with a moan, your free hand kneading your breasts. “So fucking sweet. It’s so good, Lix.” You watched as he began to slowly work his dick, resting his head back against his chair and peeking out at you.

“I’m gonna get you out here so I can taste you for myself, I swear.” He let out a moan in a pitch you weren’t expecting as he jerked off and your pussy clenched. “Bury my head between your legs for hours and make you shake…”

“Please do.” You slid your fingers back inside yourself and curled them, searching for your g-spot. You gasped when you found it and called his name as if it was him touching you. You heard his breathing grow ragged as he watched you, both of you barreling towards the edge as you fingered yourself.

The image of him fucking his hand would forever be burned into your mind and you couldn’t even pretend to be mad about it. He was turned on by you. You were the reason he was touching himself. You were the reason he called out to you and warned you of his impending orgasm. “Gonna fuckin’ cum, princess-”

“Do it. Show me how gorgeous you look when you let go, Lixie.” You begged, eyes locked on the image of his angry red cock on your screen. Your words sent him spiraling and you watched as his cum landed all over his belly and hand, more desperate moans falling from his lips.

A lazy smile spread across his face as his moan turned into a chuckle. “Your turn, sweetheart.” He teased, obliging you when you asked him to taste himself. “It’s good but I’m willing to bet it’d be a thousand percent better mixed with yours. Maybe I’ll cum inside and eat it out of your pretty pussy.” You made a pathetic sound and he smirked. “You like that idea?” You nodded and gasped when you gently pinched your nipple.

“Fucking love it…” You nodded, your free hand moving to your throat. “I’m so fucking close, oh my god-” You keened, carefully restricting blood flow as you choked yourself.

“Yeah? My dirty girl gonna cum for me?” The name was the last straw and you cried out an affirmation as your legs clamped shut around your hand, liquid bliss filling your veins as you came undone. “Look how pretty you are when you cum…I can’t wait to get you like this by my own hands, princess.”

He coached you through your orgasm and listened as you repeated his name over and over, trying his damndest not to get hard again. After a couple minutes, your breathing began to even out and he sat up properly in his chair, grabbing a couple tissues to clean up with. “You did such a good job, pretty girl.” He cooed and you smiled softly. “Why don’t you clean yourself up and if you’re feeling up to it we can play another round or watch something together? Or if you’d rather go to sleep we can hang up and-”

“I do wanna sleep but if you hang up on Discord it better be to call me back on Snapchat and talk with me until I nod off.” You teased as you righted yourself in your chair. “Your voice is so warm and comforting. It’s nice to fall asleep to…” You added and he smiled softly at you, eyes full of adoration.

“Okay, I’ll call you there. Go get cleaned up and let me know when you’re ready.” You nodded and muttered a soft ‘goodbye’ before he ended the call.

✨lixie✨ is offline

<-d-6 | d-8->

[preseriesdean]

for @spnficrecfest day seven: tropes 🧡 also check my case fic list which has some more curse-y case fics!

Speechless by candle_beck 11.2k words, rated T, published 2008 Dean loses his voice and their rapport is only moderately impaired.

Crying Talking Sleeping Walking by FrancesHouseman 3.3k words, rated E, published 2016 The witch dies laughing at Dean. It's never a good sign.

Talk around it by @goshen-applecrumbledore 12.8k words, rated E, published 2021, underage “It’s just a truth spell,” Sam tried. “It could be worse.” Dean looked at him like he was stupid. “Yeah, thank God we don’t have a giant, life-ruining secret that we really, really don’t want our dad knowing. Good thing he’s not on his way here right this second.” He scoffed. “Could be worse. Jesus. Good to know you can still lie.”

Heart Shaped Balloon by winsive 18.6k words, rated E, published 2022, underage Sam and Dad are fighting. No surprise, but it's the weekend before Valentine's Day and Dean isn't missing out on the chance to bang a cheerleader just to console his bratty little brother. He does bring back a heart shaped balloon for him, though. It's not supposed to be cursed.

Flood of Water by sevenfists 9.9k words, rated E, published 2006 "Please tell me you know how this happened," Sam said. "Yeah," Dean said. He sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and let his arms fall away from his chest, his clasped hands settling in his lap. His t-shirt clung to him, worn thin from too many washings, and Sam could see the heavy weight of his breasts, his nipples hard in the cold air.

All That Sam by Catchclaw 10.4k words, rated M, published 2012 Dean thinks of himself as an innovator. A sex god. A professional problem solver. And then Sammy gets hit with some hoodoo and all of that shit gets shot straight to hell.

The Talking Cure by Mollyamory 2.4k words, rated T, published 2013 Dean tries to keep his mouth shut, but as much as he wants to keep quiet, he also wants to say--

Desiderata by @dyed-red 45.2k words, rated E, published 2023, incomplete Dean is hit with a curse. It shouldn’t take that much to resolve, could be a gift under other circumstances, but life’s not that simple for the Winchesters.

Out of Context by doctor_idiot 7.2k words, rated E, published 2017 When Sam and Dean keep waking up naked, all over each other, and without recollection of the previous night, the first thing Sam does is dig into the lore to find out what's going on. Dean is more concerned with the question why he always seems to be the one who bottoms.

And Baby You Can Sleep While I Drive by merle_p 8.6k words, rated T, published 2021 “So,” Dean says, hesitantly. “This is a dream then?” Sam blinks, confused. “Well, obviously.” “Huh,” Dream-Dean says and scratches his neck. He shifts awkwardly from his right to his left foot but otherwise stays where he is.

Cupid's Got A Gun by geckoholic 13.5k words, rated E, published 2012, non-con Fuck-or-die, set in early S4. But they've been fucking for years, so that shouldn't be a problem, right? Wrong. Ever since hell, Dean's in no hurry to get that show on the road again. They've tried, and it doesn't work, too many bad memories from what's been done to him downstairs. A case that involves a cursed cross and a vengeful witch takes that choice away from them, though…

(for you and me) i got no alibi by remy 23.4k words, rated E, published 2019 There are people hitting on Sam wherever he goes, and Dean is doing weird things like holding doors open for him and touching him way more than is necessary, and it's all driving Sam up the wall. It doesn't help that he's been in love with Dean for just about forever, and all of it feels like a mockery of something he'll never get to have. Meanwhile, Dean is at his wits' end trying to figure out how he can make Sam realize that he is, in fact, trying to get into his pants.

[atinystraynstay]

Angel Season - Jeong Yunho

Synopsis: Yunho first noticed you when you moved into the building. He was attracted not just by your physical beauty but the way your smile outshined the sun. He has spent the past year making little conversation, trying to be a good neighbor. However, he refused to go into the new year without making a move.

Pairing: neighbor!Jeong Yunho x reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, next door neighbors/cute boy next door, angst - heartache, jealousy

Contains: mentions alcohol consumption

Word Count: 8.9k

December 30, 2022

"Miss, what floor are you on?" "Third floor, apartment 3A," you called out.

The mover nodded his head before whistling for the other. "3A boys!"

One was lifting your bed out of the back of the moving truck, another person still in the truck for support. You stood on the curb of the sidewalk, watching. You were able to help with the smaller boxes, the ones filled with either trinkets or kitchen items. But for the longer furniture, you were more than happy to let the professionals handle it.

As people were carrying things into your new home, you took a moment to look around your surroundings. You've always been attracted to city living. For some people, you knew that they could get overwhelmed by the high-rises and busy streets. That was what attracted you to living here. You liked the idea that you could go about your day without being noticed, being able to blend into the crowds. Yet, you liked the endless possibilities of making this city whatever you want it to be.

Despite the rainy, chilly weather, there was no place you'd rather be.

Seeing as all your furniture had been taken out of the moving truck, you decided to lend a hand now. The faster the movers could drop off your stuff, the sooner you could start unpacking and decorating.

You stepped Ito the truck, going to retrieve one of the boxes you knew you could manage. "Do you need some help there?"

Caught off guard, you jumped at the sound of the new voice. You turned around to see who was talking to you. Much to your surprise, you were greeted by a tall, young man. He couldn't have been older than you.

Wow, he's absolutely stunning.

He wore a gentle smile, feeling a bit bad for giving you a scare. He stood with his hands in his pockets as he stood at the bottom of the truck. You felt a bit guilty at first contemplating taking up his offer. What if he had somewhere to be? What if he was just trying to be nice? However, you came to your senses because he wouldn't have offered if he was serious, right?

"If you don't mind!"

The young man nodded his hand, extending his arms out to take the box from you. You grinned at the gesture, quickly grabbing the box for him. "You have no idea how much this means to me. Lucky for you, the movers got all the heavy stuff, so we just have a few more boxes," you laughed. You quickly grabbed a box for yourself before joining him out of the truck and on the ground. "Hey, I am pretty strong," he said, pretending to be offended. "By the way, my name is Yunho." "I'm y/n. I should've asked before leading you up to my apartment."

You both shared a laugh. Carrying one of the boxes, you took the lead in showing the man to your new apartment. Your mother always told you not to talk to strangers, but there was no way you'd let this handsome stranger just walk past you. Not when he approached you first. "Wait, you're moving here?" He asked, shocked. "Oh no. Please don't tell me there is something wrong with the apartment," you whined. He quickly shook his head, wanting to ease any worries or concerns you may have. Yunho never thought that offering assistance, trying to be a good person would lead him to probably the best thing to happen to him all year.

Yunho was out on his usual routine on a Saturday morning. He went out for his usual coffee and bagel after running errands. It was a little reward for him for getting out of bed rather than staying in. The bigger reward was running into you. "No, I actually live here," he chuckled softly. Yunho was glad that you were in front of him, back turned as you guided him up the steps to your new unit. Because if you turned around, you would see him with the widest grin on his face. He was like a little boy on Christmas morning who opened up the one present he has been asking for all year. "Small world!" You giggled. "What unit are you?" "3B, what about you?" "Well hi neighbor," you teased. "I'm moving into 3A."

Correction, this was now the best present he could have received.

Valentine's Day - February 2023

Over the past month or so, Yunho and you have passed by each other. Sometimes it is when you are entering the building and he's leaving, which he'll open the door for you. Or sometimes it is when you are both returning after a night out.

He was starting to pick up on things that consisted in your daily life. For example, he knew that you liked a fresh bouquet of flowers for your apartment every 2 or 3 weeks. You always had one bad of groceries, presumably buying just for the week. Friday nights always included a bottle of red wine.

All of his friends were aware of the girl next door. They often tried to catch a glimpse of you when they were over to visit. Yunho certainly has developed a crush on the girl next door. How couldn't he? You radiated brighter than the lights atop the Empire State Building.

Tonight was Valentine's Day. Both of your respective jobs kept you out of the apartment most nights. You two had exchanged numbers, for the sake of knowing someone else in the building and for emergencies. Yunho hadn't brought himself to text you outside of those conditions as he was afraid of giving the wrong impression. He didn't even crack under the relentless teasing of his friends on his failure to make a move after a month and a half of knowing you.

He felt a stronger urge to text you today. Did she have a date for Valentine's Day? Did she even want one? Was she even single?

Yunho was on the unlucky side of not having a date for the evening. His work had consumed the better part of days, so he hadn't put much of his energy towards dating. He often came home, reheated dinner if he hadn't ordered takeout, and slept before doing it all again the next day.

Trudging up the steps, he was contemplating if tonight would be the night he finally texts you. However, he knew texting you was pointless. Not when you were practically standing in front of him.

His eyes widened, taking you in. You wore a black peacoat with the red dress you were wearing peaking out underneath. Silver heels were hugging your feet. He has never seen your hair done in curls, but it was becoming one of his favorite looks on you. You wore red lipstick to go with the dress. The one accessory he wasn't pleased to see was your hands gripping the plastic loops of a white takeout bag. Oh no, she did have a date tonight. Fuck, I missed my opportunity.

Seeing movement from your peripheral, you turned your head over. The light frown on your lips was soon replaced with a gentle smile. Yunho always brought joy into your life, even if the interactions were minimal. "Hi Yunho," you spoke, your voice softer than usual. It didn't carry its usual tone of happiness. He could tell that there was something wrong. He felt the urge to take care of anything that might be troubling you, but he didn't want to overstep his bounds. "Hey y/n. I'm surprised you're not out tonight. No suitors catch your attention?" You smiled wider at his compliment. Yunho always knew how to make you feel special. Any girl would be lucky to have him as their boyfriend. "Unfortunately no. I, uh, got stood up, so ended up picking up Chinese from the place around the corner on my way back." This time, Yunho frowned. You got stood up? How could anyone do that to anyone, but especially how could anyone do that to you? You were literal treasure in Yunho's eyes. He felt saddened for you, but angry at whoever made you upset.t

"Oh, y/n. I'm sorry to hear that. Are you ok? Is there anything I can do?" "You're too sweet. No, I'll be okay. I think I just want to be alone, if that's ok?"

Of course, whatever you felt like you needed. He nodded his head, offering a gentle smile. "I'll see you around?" He asked. You smiled back, a bit wider. Seeing Yunho was the favorite part of your day.

The two of you entered your respective apartments. Once the door was shut to his, he let out a soft sigh. He slipped off his winter jacket, hanging it by the door before slipping off his shoes. He trudged himself over further into his apartment, turning on the floor lamp in the living room. He claimed his seat on the couch before looking out the windows into the city.

His earlier dilemma seemed to resolve himself. Sitting up slightly, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. His fingers made quick work at typing a text. A very important text to you.

"He's a loser, y/n. You deserve the whole world and I know there's someone out there ready to give it to you 🙂"

He set his phone on the arm of the chair. He wasn't sure if you would respond, or even read his text tonight. It tore him up inside knowing some jerk made you upset. He also felt some responsibility. Maybe if he had gotten the courage to confess to you, he could have saved you from the disappointment? I mean, he couldn't even dream of letting you down by any means.

Yunho was surprised to feel the vibration of his phone. He never acted so quickly to pick something up before. "You're the sweetest in the whole world. Thanks Yunho 🩷 to hell with him I guess"

He chuckled at your words before trying a response back. "To hell with him. You are an angel, don't settle for less."

Little did he know how wide you were smiling next door. You were at your kitchen countertop. The tears of frustration quickly forgotten the moment Yunho texted you. It was as if he answered your silent prayer.

April 2023

It was a rainy day in the city. Spring was in full swing, the green buds on the trees in the neighborhood beginning to peanut. People all around the city were beginning to put plants out on their balconies. You always loved rainy days. They always soothed your soul, loving to just curl up and watch rain run down the window.

"I can't believe they cancelled the game," Yunho sighed from outside the hallway. You've learned that he can be loud when he's excited or frustrated. This seems like it is the latter.

There were no other voices on the side of the door. He was probably on the phone. Maybe with Yeosang? You've met his friends here and there as they float in and out of his apartment. There were all friendly towards you. It was just a bigger testament to who Yunho is as a person.

You didn't hear much of the conversation before the door closed. Maybe this was your chance. You planned on having a lazy day anyways. Maybe read a book, watch a movie, but you know that it is always better with company.

Taking your phone from beside you, you unlocked it with ease. Your fingers eagerly typing a text message to the boy next door. Your speed of texting matched the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"Hey neighbor! Think I just heard you get home, wanna come over to watch a movie?"

Your heart was pounding both with excitement and anxiety. You weren't typically the person to make the first move. Since moving in, you were very grateful for your friendship with Yunho. He's treated you with nothing but kindness, really setting a standard on how your guy friends and even dates should be treating you.

At night, your mind often got curious about the topic. What would it be like to be with Yunho? Not once have you seen a woman enter his apartment. He never even mentioned going on dates. There potential was there, but you just weren't sure if he was just being a good friend, an exceptional neighbor, or if he was into you.

"Wow perfect timing, angel" You grinned seeing his nickname for you. "Plans got cancelled, so I'll be over in 5? I'll bring the popcorn!"

Springing up from the couch, you rushed over to your bathroom. You were wearing a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt. You were unsatisfied with your hair though. It was curled in a messy bun on the top of your head. You quickly pulled at the scrunchie, releasing your hair so it fell down to your shoulders. You began brushing it out. You didn't have much time.

This could solve every answer you've had over the past few weeks. This could easily just be two friends hanging out. What if it turned into something more?

Y/n, chill. You took a deep breath, trying to ease your racing mind. You didn't like building up expectations. While you would like it if Yunho made a move or gave some indicator he is attracted to you, you didn't want to set yourself up for disappointment.

Knock knock knock.

Here goes nothing. You took a deep breath in the reflection of your bathroom mirror. It is just two friends hanging out.

You turned off your bathroom light before attending to the front door of your apartment. Your heart beat matched the pace you were walking, trying your hardest not to be too fast. You were conscious maybe he would hear you racing to the door, even thought you were eager to have him over.

Opening the door, you smiled wide to be greeted by Yunho. He was standing on the other side, holding a bowl of freshly popped popcorn. The hallway beginning to smell of the delicious food. "Sorry, it took me so long! I just wanted to make sure I got the popcorn ready."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was hidden behind grey clouds, providing little light throughout your apartment. You insisted on lighting a few candles, to create a warm feel to your home compared to the cold weather outside. It also helped create a bit of a romantic ambiance to the afternoon.

You two were sat pretty close together on your three-seat grey couch. An emerald blanket was spread across your laps with the bowl of popcorn in between.

After hearing that you have not seen a single Spiderman movie, Yunho was determined to show you all the movies. Or at least the big 3 - Maguire, Garfield, and Holland. He tried insisting the two of you didn't have to watch all three movies today, but you had no other plans. You would be more than happy to spend the afternoon like this with Yunho.

Throughout the movie, you guys would balance light conversation and watching the movie. When you were focused on the film, Yunho would glance at you to see your reaction. He adored Spiderman, so seeing if you liked one of his favorite things captured his attention. He also would focus on how you smiled at certain parts of the film, particular the scenes between Peter Parker and Mary Jane.

When you weren't focusing on the film, you two would talk more. Sure, you've made light conversation when passing, and a bit more meaningful over text, but this was the perfect time to get to know each other. Yunho wanted to know about your dreams, your passions, your dislikes. He wanted to know all the little things that made you who you are.

It was about 5:18pm when you guys started the the first movie with Andrew Garfield. You felt your eyes getting a bit heavy. Yunho took notice, moving the bowl of popcorn out of the way for you. Noticing, you smiled appreciatively to him. He always had your best interests at heart.

Your eyes grew heavy, body sinking more into the couch. Before either of you knew it, your head fell on his shoulder. Without the bowl of popcorn in the way, your body curled into his. Yunho's eyes were wide and heart nearly stopped before speeding up.

Glancing down at you, your chest was resting against his shoulder. You looked adorable. Your eyelashes were resting against your cheeks, lips slightly parted. Your hands were grazing the side of his body. There was no chance of him going anywhere now. Not that he would want to.

Very slowly, cautious as to not wake you up, his arm draped over you. He sunk slightly into the couch before resting his head on yours. Sleep began taking over his body. He was content.

May 2023

"What do you mean you're leaving?" You frowned.

Yunho suggested that the two of you hung out weekly. It started off with going to local bars to vent about the woes of work and life. Those quickly changed into dinner out, to get a change of scenery and explore the neighborhood. Tonight, Yunho suggested dinner at his place. You weren't sure why at first, but obviously excited to spend quality time with your best friend. But now you get why he opted for staying in.

"I'm not leaving forever," Yunho reassured. "I'm just going to Korea for a little bit. It's been a while since I visited my family, and I can finally afford a ticket after my promotion."

Of course, you knew that family was important. If you got the opportunity to visit your family more often, you'd easily say yes. You couldn't help though but feel a bit selfish in wanting Yunho to stay.

"How long am I going to be without seeing you around?" "3 months," he said sheepishly.

Dramatically, you let out a whine and threw your head back. Yunho couldn't help but chuckle at your antics. It made his heart swell seeing as that you were going to miss him.

He moved his hand over to place it gently on yours. The light touch, even though it was feather like, felt like electric shocks throughout your body. You always craved his touch. Ever since that day last month when you woke up to his arms wrapped around you on his couch.

"Angel, it'll go by quick, I promise." "Can you also promise me something?" "Anything." "Promise that you won't have a realization while you're away that you actually want to stay in Korea? Because the thought of you moving and actually having to say goodbye will kill me."

He chuckled again, a wide smile on his lips. "I promise."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Turns out that all of Yunho's friends were traveling with him to Korea. All of the boys have apparently been speaking about it for months, but the idea was finally leaving the group chat.

Even though you wanted to accompany all the boys to the airport to see them off, you knew that it would be too painful. Even if he was going to be gone for 3 months, it felt like a part of you was leaving as well. At least with saying goodbye at the apartment, you could hurry back to your place and shed tears if you want to.

Going down the steps of the apartment building, you two headed out the front door. Yunho had called an Uber to take him to the airport, not wanting to pay the overnight prices for parking at the airport especially with how long he was going to be.

It felt very reminiscent to the day you two met. You even tried to offer carrying one of Yunho's bags, but he refused to let you help. You rolled your eyes at him. The least you could do was get in front of him to open the front door rather than watch him struggle to do it with a rolling suitcase, a duffle bag, and his backpack. "Thank you, angel," he chuckled. He could sense you were a bit annoyed for not being able to help. He loved the way your nose scrunched up like a bunny when you were annoyed.

He walked towards the edge of the sidewalk, on the lookout for the vehicle. You stood back slightly, smiling up at him. You were trying your best not to let your sadness ruin the moment. He has been excited about traveling home since he bought the ticket. Yunho described all his favorite places in Seoul, all the things he missed.

"You better still talk to me while you're in Seoul," you said teasingly.

With his bags on the concrete, he turned towards you. He wore that wide smile of his, that wide smile that caused your knees to get week. He opened his arms, inviting you into them. No way were you going to object.

Walking into his arms, he wrapped them around you. He pulled you in close to him by your waist. His lips pressed against your forehead, causing your eyes to flutter shut at the sensation. How am I going to survive 3 months without him?

"I'll talk to you as much as I can, take all the photos I can," he promised.

Satisfied with that answer, you nodded your head. Your arms had found a place around his torso, holding yourself go. Maybe if you held onto each other long enough, he would want to stay. If only.

You felt two taps on your lower back. Raising an eyebrow, you pulled back to lookout Yunho. He was already looking at you. It was as if time froze. He towered over you, but his face was so close to you. His eyes never leaving yours. You could melt into a puddle due to his gaze.

Keeping one hand around you, his other hand moved to cup your face. He tilted your head slightly to the side. His fingertips rested against your cheek. The whole time, he wore a smile on his lips. Regardless of what he had up his sleeves, you put your whole trust in him. You never doubted his intentions with you.

A shiver ran down your spine feeling the padding of his thumb run across your lower lip. Was this actually happening? He glanced at your lips before looking into your eyes. Yunho was looking for any hesitation from you, any sign that he should stop before getting to ahead of himself. Yet, you never looked away.

"Wait for me?"

You couldn't bring yourself to speak. You were frozen in place. Your mind had become fuzzy, all the sounds of the busy city around you faded. All that mattered was the man standing in front of you, the man who seemed to be saying everything you've been yearning to hear since you two met. Was this actually happening? Somehow, you got yourself to nod.

Yunho smiled wider before letting his desires take over. Not wanting to waste anymore time, he pressed his lips against yours.

HONK!

The kiss was rudely short after hearing the sound of a car horn. You two pulled away, both confused and upset at the interruption. Yunho looked over his shoulders before gasping softly. There was his Uber to whisk him away from you. "Shit," he sighed.

Looking back at you, he smiled apologetically. You smiled back before leaning up on his tiptoes. Sensing that Yunho was actually going to leave, the Uber driver got out of the car to grab Yunho's suitcases and place them in the trunk. Just enough time to do one last thing.

"Don't worry. I'll save all the kisses for you, I promise to wait for you."

You leaned up to press one last lingering kiss on his lips. One last kiss for now at least.

June 2023

Since Yunho left, you got pretty good at figuring out timezone differences.

You didn't want to interfere with Yunho's daily life. You were sure that he has plans to visit family, local places he hasn't been able to go to in years, and make meaningful memories with his best friends and loved ones. Yet, Yunho was insistent he will make time for you.

Every Wednesday night and Sunday morning, you two would FaceTime. Thank God for modern technology. "I wish you could be here," Yunho admitted one night.

You frowned and nodded. Ever since Yunho left, he was all you think about. You tried getting yourself involved more in your work, but it as summer. Work was a bit slow. You had friends in the city who tried to help you out of your conundrum, taking you out on the weekends. But you still thought about him, wanting to experience summer in the city with him.

It made you sick to your stomach when you saw couples in the park. You often thought about the kiss you two shared on the morning he left. You wondered where you guys would be, romantically, if he had stayed. You could easily envision dates in the park, nights out with friends, and everything in between. You were anxiously waiting for his return to know where things could go. "Y/n?"

You blinked a couple of times as he called out to you. A soft blush coated your cheeks, coming to realize you haven't spoken in a few minutes. "Sorry, Yunho. Just thinking about what it would be like when you get back here," you explained.

He seemed to smile at your response. It was good to know you missed him as much as he missed you. Though, if it was a competition, he could say that he missed you more. "Oh angel, I know. Just two more months, right?"

All you could do is nod, trying your best to smile along with him. He looked good, even with the low quality of FaceTime with a poor wifi connection. He glowed from being out in the sun, probably glowing also with happiness by being back at home. "I know what will make us feel better," he suddenly announced. You perked up with curiosity. Yunho always had some trick up his sleeve. That was what you loved about him. He always kept you on your toes, never settling for a routine. "Go check the front door."

"You better not be pulling a prank on me, Jeong Yunho!" "After you called me by my full name? Absolutely not."

You rolled your eyes playfully before pushing yourself away from the desk in your bedroom. Yunho watched with amusement as you disappeared from the frame. Following his request, you made your way to the front door of your apartment. What did he do?

There was no knock at the door to indicate someone was there. However, you trusted Yunho. You slowly opened the door, confirming there was nobody standing behind there. Instead, there was a bouquet of flowers on your doormat. You gasped softly to see it wa a rather large bouquet, much larger than the ones you pick up from Trader Joe's.

You bent over to take the glass vase into two hands. There was a yellow bow wrapped around it. You also noticed that there was a card sticking in between the flowers. With one arm securing the vase, you flipped the card over.

"Happy birthday, my angel. Hopefully these make up for me being away."

Your heart fluttered at the sentiment. How did you get so fortunate? Wanting to hurry back to Yunho, you returned to the inside of your apartment. Both of your hands held the vase, so you closed the door with your foot. You began to make your way back to your bedroom where he awaited for you.

"Yunho, I love-" but you froze. Instead of his face on the monitor, you were met with your laptop background. You frowned a bit, assuming that maybe the connection got disrupted.

He'll call you back. He always did when this happened.

For now, you walked over to your windowsill. You placed the vase there, so it could get the necessary sunlight. He knew just the ways to make you smile, even when he is thousands of miles away. You pulled your phone out to snap a photo of it, with the card showing.

August 2023

The conversations between you and Yunho began to become less frequent. It chipped away at your heart when you would go days, sometime a week without hearing from him. Yet, his friends reassured you that he was having a great time back at home.

All of Yunho's friends easily became yours, despite them being on the other side of the world. You then decided to throw a welcome back party for all the boys. You had your own friends enlisted to help with decorations - there were balloons, streamers, and even a cake. You were excited to have some of your favorite people back. But not more excited than you were to have Yunho back.

It was 7:40pm when the boys began to come to the party. Seonghwa and Hongjoong were the first to arrive. Your friends started to trickle in one at a time. After a whole summer without Yunho, you wanted to have a room full of positive energy. San, Yeosang, and Wooyoung arrived next. Then quickly came Jongho.

Each time the door opened, you looked over, hoping to see the man of the hour. Yet, you felt your smile flatten when it wasn't Yunho.

Your friends all giggled at your reactions. They were quick to reassure you that he was on his way. While Yunho's friends all were quick to take your mind off of Yunho's absence.

Mingi was the second to last person to arrive. Mingi was the first person in the friend group to meet. He's known Yunho the longest, so meeting him felt like you were meeting the president. While you and Yunho remained in undefined territory, you wanted to make a great impression. "Y/n!" "Mingi!"

You two approached each other, wrapping each other in a hug. You laughed as Mingi began rocking you back and forth. He definitely became like a big brother to you, often using your drastic height difference as a great point for laughter. "What's up, short stuff?" "Nothing much, Mingi. How's the weather up there?"

Before he could respond, there was knocking at the door. Your heart skipped a beat. Yunho. Mingi glanced at the door before looking at you. His hands were placed on your forearms, keeping you still rather than running towards the door like you wanted to rush to the door. "Wait, y/n. There's something I need to tell you." "Mingi, come on. Can't it wait?" Your best friend beat you from going to open the door. Your attention on Mingi was lost before you quickly looked over at the door.

You could feel your stomach drop at what was revealed behind the closed front door. There was Yunho. With a girl by his side. Her hand was on his chest which made you physically ill. Yunho was smiling from ear to ear, saying hello to his friends until his eyes landed on you. That's when your smile faded. He looked as if he was about to say something to you but you quickly looked away.

This can't be happening.

"I need to get out of here," you murmured. Getting the hint, Mingi stepped aside, blocking Yunho's view of you. Your eyes looked around your room until you eyed the fire escape by your kitchen window.

With your eyes on the target, you maneuvered yourself through the crowd to the fire escape. The majority of people at the party were in your living room, enjoying the food you laid out and making conversations amongst themselves. You just needed a chance to breathe before returning inside.

You propped open the window, slipping out to climb the steps. You at least climbed until you were out of sight from inside the room. Your eyes were burning slightly, your emotions catching up to you.

"Mingi, where is she?" "Where is who?"

You heard Yunho groan before there was more shuffling of footsteps throughout your apartment. You should have closed the window behind you, but it was too late. You put your hands on your forehead, trying your best to stop crying before the inevitable happened. It didn't take long anyways. "There you are," Yunho sighed. Fuck me for having a tiny apartment. You didn't pick your head up to hear Yunho climb out to join you. "What? You're not going to even look at me?"

Who does he think he is? "You made me promise," you murmured. "Y/n, angel, you gotta at least speak up."

You felt your blood begin to boil now. He doesn't get the right to call you that anymore. Not when he broke your heart. You did pick your head up, your jaw clenched. You stared at him.

He leaned against the iron railing of the fire escape. He looked guilty. He knows what he did. "You made me promise to wait for you. And I held up my end of the bargain." "Angel, I know-" "Don't you dare fucking call me that."

Yunho's eyes opened wide. He has never heard you shout before. Let alone he never thought you would shout at him. He was at a lost for words. "Is that why you stopped our FaceTime calls?"

You watched as he sighed, dropping his head. Your heart dropping and shattering along with him. "Get out." Y/n, please. Let me explain what happened." "I said get out, Yunho!"

Mingi quickly appeared at the sound of you screaming. You didn't even notice that there was a small watch party watching you experience heartbreak from the kitchen. "Come on, mate. Take Ara with you." Yunho glanced between the two of you, even more thrown off as to why Mingi was coming to your defense.

However, Yunho didn't want to make matters worse. He didn't want to further upset you in your own home, but the damage was done. You turned your face to focus on the skyline, not wanting to watch Yunho walk into the art of someone else.

When you noticed Yunho was gone, you groaned loudly before resting your head back in your hands. What were you going to do?

October 2023

You haven't spoken to Yunho in weeks. You constantly had music playing from the speakers in your living room or walked around your apartment with headphones to avoid hearing any and all interactions between Yunho and his girlfriend. You even were contemplating on moving to a new place in the new year, but your financial situation limited you on where you could go.

Since things went radio silent, your conversations with the other boys have also gone quiet. It pained you to lose them as friends, but you couldn't bring yourself to reach out there. Not when Yunho might be brought up.

At the moment, you were reading a book on your couch. You had the music playing in the background as you had connected your iPhone to your wireless speaker, drowning out any noise. At least someone gets a happily every after in the novel. You had a glass of red wine on the coffee table, getting lost in the pages.

You were about to flip the page to your book when the music cut out. Your eyes widened as you feared the worst. No no no. You couldn't afford your phone dying. You were sure you put it on the charger. There was no room for mishaps like this.

However, it wasn't the worst case you imagined. It might have been something worst, definitely unexpected to say the least. You weren't sure how to feel seeing the name flash on your phone screen.

Mingi.

Slowly, you reached over to pick up the phone. You stared at it for the time being. What could he want? Mingi was the last person you thought would reach out to you. Wasn't there a rule under bro code that said not to take your friend's exes, if you could even call yourself that? You weren't sure what you even were to Yunho.

Mingi's name vanished from your phone screen, the music restarting. You let out a sigh, about to sink into your couch to ease your racing heart when he started calling again.

It had to be serious if he was calling you twice. Hesitantly, your thumb hit the green accept button. You held the phone up to your ear.

"Hello? Mingi?" "Long time since I've heard from you," he said cheerfully. "Mind coming to open the door for me?"

What? You glanced the door before standing up. You walked over to the door slowly. Once you were at the peephole of your unit door. There he was, standing as he looked around the hallway with his hand up to his ear, holding the phone.

Slowly, you opened the door and gazed up at Mingi. He noticed the movement and finally looked ahead of him. His smile grew when he saw you for the first time in months. "Hi, y/n," he spoke softly. You could hear his voice from right in front of you and from the speaker. "Hi Mingi. What can I do for you?" You said, unhanging up the phone to address him properly.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For the first time in weeks, you felt genuinely happy. You arm was linked with Mingi's as he guided you to your apartment unit.

While it's been weeks since contact with him, it felt like you guys were picking up right where you left off. Maybe that is why it was so easy to say yes to Mingi when he asked you out for dinner. There was also a special connection between you and Mingi. From the moment you met, the communication between you two has been strong.

Tonight, you got to explore that on a deeper level. Mingi waited patiently in your living room as you got ready. He took you to a restaurant around the corner, which was a bit more upscale than what you were anticipating. You put on a black body con dress, wearing a light leather jacket to go with it.

Mingi looked at you as if you were made our of the stars. You looked enchanting. And since the fallout, you felt just as amazing.

Being the absolute gentleman he is, Mingi walked you to your front door not just of your apartment building but to your unit. Part of you was contemplating about inviting him inside for a nigh cap, but you really appreciated where things were between the two of you. It felt like Mingi just walked back into your life, and you didn't want to risk losing him again. "Mingi, I cannot thank you enough for this evening," you smiled.

He looked over at you as he led you up the staircase. "It really was long overdue, sweet girl. I've been meaning to do this for a while, but I didn't want to overstep," he confessed. You felt your cheeks get hot at his confessional, looking down as you watched your feet move up the steps. Mingi laughed lightly in response, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

You two soon arrived at your front door. Biting your lip gently, you stood in front of him yet you couldn't bring yourself to detach yourself from him. And deep down, Mingi didn't want you to eat go either.

"So, I gotta ask," you began. "What was this? I mean, was this two friends getting reacquainted with each other or..?" "Or something more?"

Mingi wrapped one arm around you, pulling you in closer. You blushed even harder, a hand going to rest on his chest. Your heart was pounding even after. You were convinced that Mingi could feel it. He opened his mouth to speak but froze when he saw movement behind you. You raised an eyebrow and dared to look over your shoulder, wanting to see what stole your date's attention.

You felt your throat suddenly get dry.

There was Yunho. He was holding a bag of groceries, standing at the top of the steps that led to your respective units. He was staring at the two of you, eyes flickering back and forth. There was no way he just caught his best friend and his old crush together? It was the way you were dressed up for Mingi that rubbed Yunho the wrong way. Was this a date?

Mingi didn't say anything to Yunho. He quickly looked back down at you, offering a gentle smile. His hand on your lower back moved to your hip, squeezing it reassuringly. "How about I'll give you a call when I get home?" He whispered.

You simply nodded. You weren't sure how to even respond. Mingi kept a smile, an attempt to ease your worries. He murmured a goodnight before kissing your cheek lingeringly. Your fingertips grazed his body as he maneuvered around you to head home.

You turned around, to watch him leave. There was no Yunho. Did you imagine the whole thing? You stood there for a moment, trying to wrap your mind around what happened.

Yunho, on the other hand, was in his apartment. He stood with his back against the closed front door, staring ahead of himself. He too was trying to wrap his mind around what he just witnessed.

November 2023

The sound of a door slamming caused you to jolt. It shook your walls a bit. "What the hell?" You murmured. You heard the sound of another door, maybe the same, opening again, realizing it was coming from next door. Yunho.

"You haven't even told me you love me in the past 5 months that we've been dating," Ara screamed.

You shouldn't be eavesdropping, you know you really shouldn't. However, the events unfolding peaked your interest. With having blocked out Yunho pretty much from your life, you had no updates on the relationship or anything about him.

"Maybe because I don't! Have you ever thought about that? That maybe I've been trying to find ways to love you or get myself to love you but I can't be in love with you?!"

Your jaw fell open. Not the update you were expecting.

"This is because of y/n, isn't it?" Ara voice spoke, but you could tell it was shaky. She was scared of knowing the truth, and secretly, you were too. "Honestly? Yeah." "She's with Mingi now. You're with me, Yunho. Get over her." "I can't. I don't think I ever will because if I can't date you and forget about her, how can I date anyone?"

Before you know it, you heard the sound of the door slamming. This time, you recognized it to be the front door to Yunho's apartment. You were staring up at your ceiling.

Well, this makes things complicated again.

New Years Day - December 31, 2023

Mingi was hosting a New Years Eve party at his place. You were invited, seeing as you and Mingi had rekindled your friendship.

The two of you went on several dates before releasing that there were no feelings between the two of you. You cared deeply for one another, but were more like siblings than anything else. The attention he was giving you on those dates is something that you'll never forget. You were grateful for him helping you get back and your feet. And he was grateful that you passed along his number to your best friend.

"Hey, I'm going to go find Mingi," your best friend announced as you entered the party. "Trying to ensure you'll get your New Years Eve kiss from your new boyfriend?" You teased. She rolled her eyes playfully before giggling. She couldn't even deny herself as she nodded her head, confirming your suspicions. "Are you going to be okay if I go over for a little bit? I know he might show up.."

He. Yunho. Since you overheard their argument last month, you two haven't spoken. He hasn't texted you to meet up, but to be fair, you also haven't texted him. You weren't sure what to make out of the whole situation. While you think you want Yunho back, you remember the pain he caused.

You weren't even sure if him and Ara actually called it quits! The fight sounded ugly. And you knew if you heard those words from your significant other, you would have walked out as well. Yet, people constantly get back together even after the worst of storms. Looking at your best friend, you smiled reassuringly and nodded. "Yeah, I think I'm going to be okay. Just be quick? He can have you at midnight but you're still my date for the evening," you teased.

She laughed and nodded, thanking you and giving you a quick hug before rushing to locate Mingi. You shook your head playfully before going over towards the kitchen island. If there was a chance you were going to encounter Yunho, might as well boost your confidence. Seeing a bottle of white wine, you smiled. Mingi remembered. Bonus points for being a screw top.

"So you switched from red wine to white?"

It was almost as if the universe needed a laugh, a way to really close out your 2023. Setting the bottle down, you turned on your heels to see Yunho behind you. He smiled sheepishly, that smile that made you weak in the knees. For a while, you wanted to slap him for what he had done to you. But even after all this time, you wanted to melt in front of him.

Glancing at the bottle, you shrugged. "I guess I just wanted to try something new."

He was attractive as ever. It wasn't fair that after all this time, he could look at you with that soft gaze and you crumble. You wanted to make him jealous, make him regret not taking a chance on you. However, you were ready to gravel if given the chance.

His eyes remained on you. To him, you radiated brighter than before. It was as if you were made out of stars. You captivated everyone's attention with ease, but he wanted you all to himself. He wanted to make things more concrete, never making you doubt or worry again.

"So um," he said. "Ara and I broke up."

You frowned getting confirm of the news. Of course, this worked out in your benefit, but you still didn't like to hear the news. Any sort of heartache is tough.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Yunho. How have you been holding up?" "A lot better than you'd think," he chuckled. "How are things between you and Mingi? Are you guys dating officially now or?"

Your eyes widened slightly. That's right. Last time he saw you, you were about to kiss his best friend after a spontaneous date. You were a bit surprised to hear that Mingi hadn't mentioned anything to him. All you did was motion over to your left side, where Mingi and your best friend were giggling and kissing each other.

Yunho's jaw dropped. You could see his fists clenched but you quickly reached out to rest your hand on his bicep. He relaxed under your touch, gaze softening. He watched them for a moment before it clicked for him that you were touching him. His cheeks reddened, glancing at you before looking down at his feet. "We never got started. I think we were both going on dates because we were missing something," you explained. "Missing something like what?"

He looked at you surprisingly. Yunho's friends always said he was like a golden retriever, but you've never seen it until now. He looked at you like you were holding the golden key to the treasure chest. Literally, you could provide him with the entrance into your world one and for all.

"Missing you," you confessed. "Oh really? How should we fix that?" "Hey, you two, midnight is still 15 minutes away!"

Smack.

The sound of laughter filled the room as eyes went from you and Yunho to Mingi, who just got smacked upside the head by your best friend. It became painfully apparent where you two were. You were standing by all the alcohol at the party, a high traffic area.

"Wanna get out of here?"

You nodded your head, smiling at Yunho. He smiled back at you before grabbing the red wine, the bottle you genuinely liked. To assist, you grabbed two red solo cups. Mingi couldn't trust anyone or himself with glass. With Yunho's free hand, he grabbed your hand and began leading you out of Mingi's unit to the door to the rooftop.

"After you," Yunho gestured, as he pushed open the door with his shoulder.

You smiled appreciatively as you stepped out onto the ledge. A shiver, both from the chilly air of late December to the excitement of New Year's Day. It was always your favorite time of year. Your eyes moved around as you took in the sights of the city from this vantage point.

Yunho made sure you got to the rooftop safely. Setting down the wine bottle for a second, he grabbed one of the bricks to prop the door slightly, not wanting to get the two of you locked out. But boy, would it create a memory for the two of you. Picking up the bottle again, he rejoined you. "This is absolutely beautiful," you stated.

Watching you, he smiled. You wore a smile on your lips as your eyes, he swore, literally sparkled. He wasn't sure if it was from the decorative lights around the city or your pure excitement, but he liked to believe that he had something to do with it. The wind pushed your hair around, revealing your face. "Yeah, the best view," he whispered.

Slowly, he walked up to you. Noticing you were still holding the two solo cups, he took them for you. You watched, thinking he was going to pour a glass for you for midnight as a cheers.

Instead, he stacked the two cups before putting them down on the top of the wine bottle. Maybe he wanted to open the bottle right up at midnight?

Still full of surprises, Yunho took both of your hands in his instead. His thumbs ran over your knuckles. He took a step close to you, closing in on the space that divided you two.

"I think we've spent too much time apart, don't you think, angel?" That nickname. It stirred mixed emotions from you. The last time you heard that nickname, he was smashing your heart into a million pieces that you didn't think could be put back together. Yet, hearing him call you that was like hearing your favorite song from your childhood. He was the only one that called you that. He was the only one who will ever call you that. "I know I fucked up this year. I fucked up so bad," he began. "And I know we have a long road ahead where you could let me into your life again. I don't want to just be the boy next door anymore. I want to be yours. I want to show you that I can take care of your heart, your wellbeing like I should've done this entire time."

No way this was actually happening.

From instead the apartment and around the neighborhood outside, you heard people begin to count down.

10

9

"I can't go back in time and erase what I did."

8

7

"Y/n, I will do whatever it takes to win your trust back. We can take things are you pace," he vowed

6

5

All you could do was smile at Yunho. He was trying to get all the words out that he could. You could see the panic in his eyes that he might end up saying the wrong thing. He was too adorable

4

3

You took a step into him, dropping your hands so they were at your sides. Still holding his hand. Your fingers slipped in between his, which cut him off from speak. Your heart was racing as you gazed up into his eyes. Both of our faces moving towards each other.

2

You decided to step up on your tiptoes. He smirked lightly, always loving how much shorter you were than him.

1

A chorus of "Happy New Year!" echoed from inside the house. You could hear it from other people who gathered on their rooftops and from the street below. Fireworks went off around you, signaling the start of 2024.

"Happy New Year, Yunho," you whispered. Without wasting anymore time, you tilted your head up to fully press your lips against his. His hands left yours to hold onto your hips, keeping you stable. You weren't the type of person from traditions, but this was one you couldn't pass by.

You always learned from your past and took those life lessons into the new year. And it seemed like Yunho was ready to do the same.

He squeezed your hips affectionately, smiling against your lips. You couldn't fight off the smile on your lips as well. His lips chased after yours slowly, wanting to savor this moment but also to show you through his actions that his words carried weight with them. He wanted you to know everything was genuine.

2024 was a new year, a new chapter for you and Jeong Yunho.

[turn3tifosi]

FROM THE ANGELS

i. THE FERRARI DREAM

Hungary, 2022

The voice of Alex Jacques echoes like the end of the world, circling the track as the cars scream into the final lap. Ausilia de Angelis, Ferrari’s young lioness, dances with destiny, carving her name into the air, leading the race like it was always hers. The past six races bow before her, and she’s hungry—hungry for the points she’s about to steal from Felipe Drugovich, the man who chases shadows in the championship.

And then it happens.

The world cracks open. She crosses the line, and the earth stands still. Seven. Seven times the victor. The Prema pit explodes, red and white and joyous. Theo Pourchaire—fourth to second—follows her ghost, and Ayumu Iwasa, eyes like fire, claims third.

The circuit breathes out. The race is over. Spa waits on the other side of summer.

"Oh my God, that was fun!" Ausilia’s voice is a storm, a whirlwind, as she crashes into her team, arms and laughter and victory all tangled up. She turns, the chaos in her chest finding its rhythm, and she leaps—into the arms of Lucrezia Cattaneo, the woman who believes in her like she’s gravity. "I’m so proud of you, tesoro mio," Lucrezia whispers, but it’s not really a whisper. It’s the sound of the sun setting on a perfect day.

Later, after the world has quieted and the night has taken over, they drive back to the hotel. The road is dark, but there’s light between them. “You’re going to Maranello this week?” Lucrezia asks, her eyes fixed ahead, searching for something only she can see. Ausilia, for once, doesn’t have the answer. She shrugs, letting the silence fill the car like water in a glass. “It’s the start of the summer break. I’d rather not see their faces, not yet. They haven’t called.” But she knows, somewhere deep, that the call is coming, and when it does come, it won’t be joyous.

Summer Break, 2022

Ausilia never expected a calm summer break, not after what she and Lucrezia had set into motion. The summer break was supposed to be a breath, a pause—but the first day, and already the phone rings, and the mood shatters like glass.

“Have you terminated your contract with Ferrari?” The voice on the other end is calm, too calm.

“Not yet,” Ausilia replies, her voice steady, though the storm inside her builds. “I haven’t been to Maranello since last Monday. Why?”

A chuckle from the other side, low and knowing. “You were right about them. I’m at the gala, and certain Italians are whispering in corners, telling potential sponsors that you’re only winning because Prema’s given you the faster car. They’re trying to sway me, push me toward Ferrari, and away from you.”

Ausilia’s eyes narrow, the fire beneath her cool words sparking. “Any team gives the faster car to the better driver. If they’re saying that, it just proves they know I’m the better one.”

There’s a beat of silence, the tension thick even across the distance, then the question comes, sharp and decisive. “Should we contact your future team for the sponsorship deal?”

She lets the question hang in the air, measuring it against the chaos she knows is coming. “Not yet,” she finally says, each word a deliberate step. “There’s going to be drama this summer. Let’s not tip our hand too soon.”

As she’s about to end the call, another ring cuts through the quiet, the name on the screen making her groan. Marco Matassa (FDA Head). Of course. The devil always knows when to appear. “Looks like I’ll be heading to Maranello sooner than I thought.”

She cuts the call, lets the phone ring unanswered until it stops. A message pops up, cold as a command: “Drive to Maranello tomorrow. The team wants to discuss your future. Bring your manager.”

And just like that, the storm begins.

Ausilia woke early the next morning, shedding the Ferrari red for something that spoke in whispers rather than shouts—something fashionable, defiant in its simplicity. The day held a certain weight, and she dressed for the part, not as a driver but as something else, something more.

She left her apartment and picked up Lucy, who was waiting with a smile that knew too much. “Excuse they’ll use. Just one. Closest guess gets an extra slice of pizza tonight,” Lucy offered, a game to pass the time, to cut through the tension that hung between them. Ausilia laughed, the sound sharp and bright in the morning light.

As the engine roared to life, Ausilia waved her hand with mock drama, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “There’s just no seats in F1.”

Lucy turned serious, eyes narrowing as she thought it through. “I don’t think they’ll use something so blatant. They’re not that stupid, are they? My guess—something about how F2 and F1 are worlds apart, and just because you dominated F2 doesn’t mean you’ll succeed in F1.”

Ausilia’s laugh came again, this time darker, edged with something bitter. “If they go with that, they’d be proving just how stupid they are.”

The drive from Modena to Maranello was only half an hour, but it felt longer, like the road itself was stretching out, trying to delay the inevitable. When she finally pulled into Ferrari’s parking lot, she did it in a Porsche, not a Ferrari, each moment of defiance deliberate, each choice a statement. No team polo, no red, no shield. Just a rival’s car gleaming in the enemy’s territory.

She knew what she was doing, knew the risks. But if this was the end, she would go out on her own terms. What better way to say goodbye than to flaunt a rival's machine when she had spent her time as a Ferrari Driver Academy member refusing to touch any of their own?

As Ausilia slid into her seat at the head of the table, Marco Matassa, the head of FDA, and Mattia Binotto, Scuderia Ferrari’s Team Principal, rose in a slow, deliberate dance of formality.

The room crackled with tension. The Porsche in the parking lot was an unwelcome guest in a sea of Ferraris, a silent proclamation of defiance. Everyone knew who it belonged to.

Ausilia, draped in dramatic anticipation, knew exactly what was coming. But drama was her craft; she was here to see how they would script this act.

“Apologies for the Porsche. Lucy’s car is in the shop.” She offered a smile, disarmingly serene, as if it might soften the blows to come. If these men weren’t bracing for the conversation ahead, they might have laughed, dismissed it as a trivial matter.

“You can sit down, you know,” Lucy’s voice was a gentle chime, the kind of sound that seemed to make the air around them a little lighter.

Marco gestured to Mattia, urging him to take a seat while he remained standing, his eyes locked onto Ausilia. “You are an incredible talent for Ferrari.” The words were like a well-rehearsed lie, and Ausilia almost laughed, because of course she was a talent—but not for them, not anymore. She smiled back, wide-eyed and innocent.

“Unfortunately,” Mattia cut in, his impatience a jagged edge, “we don’t have any seats in Formula One. Carlos and Charles are locked in until the end of 2024.”

“The pizza’s mine,” Ausilia whispered to Lucrezia, the words a secret promise as she turned her attention back to Marco and Mattia. “Haas have a seat, don’t they?”

An uneasy silence settled over the room, the kind that lingers after a question too sharp. Marco finally responded, his voice carrying a tone of practiced indifference. “Haas won’t take another FDA driver. They don’t want to be seen as Ferrari’s junior team.”

Lucy’s eyes sharpened, her voice cutting through the pretense. “So despite Ausilia’s domination of F2 and F3, she’s to remain grounded? What kind of academy can’t even pave the way for its own drivers?”

Marco took a breath, as if steadying himself. “It might be better for her career if she’s not branded with Ferrari. Let’s terminate the contract—it will make it easier for her to find a seat elsewhere.”

Lucy winced, her patience fraying. Did these men really think they could pull the wool over their eyes? Getting an F1 seat without an F1 team backing her was going to be a fight, especially as a woman.

But Lucy mirrored Ausilia’s façade of ignorance, agreeing with the men with a tone that dripped with feigned logic. “Well, at least you’re being practical.”

Ausilia walked into Ferrari headquarters as an FDA driver and left as just another driver. The weight of the label lifted from her shoulders, but a shadow of sadness lingered. Despite her plans for a Formula One career, a part of her—the part that had dreamed of driving for Scuderia—felt the sting of loss.

[babydollslibrary]

IF THIS WAS A MOVIE — DAWSON MERCER

dawson mercer x fem!reader

published: August 28th, 2023

summary: in which y/n and Dawson fought before he left for New Jersey and now y/n has regrets.

notes: takes place March of 2023.

GIF by nastybastian

i was pathetic.

utterly pathetic.

i knew so, my friends said so, even my family said so.

it’s been six months and i still can’t bring myself to do anything besides regret everything that went down last September.

*** September 12th, 2022 ***

“why are you waiting until the day before i’m supposed to leave, to tell me this?” he fumes, glancing at me with glaring eyes as i sink back onto the mattress.

“i wasn’t sure how to tell you, Daws.” i reply meekly. my fingers fumble together, an anxious tick that’s plagued me since grade school.

“how are you just gonna leave me like this?” Dawson huffs, halting his packing in order to stare me down, and i know that no answer i give him will be good enough right now.

“i’m not leaving you, Dawson. i’m just-” i pause, mulling over the right words for a moment. “deferring the move for a couple of months.”

“right.” he nods. “and then you’ll defer it for a few more months, right? until finally i get back and you never had to move at all?”

“thats not what’s happening!”

i scare myself with my unnaturally raised voice. i’m not usually one to lose my temper, but the fact that he’s not understanding my reasoning and seeing where i’m coming from, instead accusing me of things i would never do, has me frustrated.

“when have i ever given you the impression that i wasn’t gonna move at all? there are just a few loose ends i have to tie up here before i can move to another country for you!”

“for me?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “this is for us!”

“it’s your dream Dawson, not mine. but i’m willing to make the sacrifice of leaving home, if you just give me the time!”

he lets out a hollow laugh, sending chills down my spine at the empty sound.

“how much time do you need? we already did long distance for my rookie year. the plan was always for you to join me this season! it’s not my fault that you didn’t time things out accordingly!”

“i never said it was your fault! you’re putting words in my mouth!” i shout, rising from the end of the bed in order to seem more confident. “i’m just saying that i have some things to do, and i’ll drive down, with all my stuff, in a couple months!”

“it’s not that easy! i can’t help you move in once the season is going!” he reminds me, as if i haven’t already thought about that.

“i know, and that’s fine! i can do it on my own!” i tell him. “i just can’t up and leave right now! i’ll move down in November!”

“that’s what you say now.” he rolls his eyes, zipping up the duffel bag that holds some of the clothes and gear that he keeps here in my apartment.

“why do you keep saying that?” i screech. i don’t understand these assumptions he’s making, that i’ll never join him in New Jersey.

“because that’s what’s gonna happen! you don’t love me enough to move, just say it! instead of putting the move off until we’ve grown apart and you don’t have to make it!”

“get out.” the words slip past my lips before i even have the time to think them through. his eyes widen in surprise, but i refuse to keep fighting with him about this. “if you think that lowly of me, then just leave. if we’re just gonna fight, then i don’t wanna talk to you.”

i stomp through the hallways, trailing behind him, and i watch him leave my first floor apartment, heading straight for his car. i slam the door shut behind him, twisting the lock and letting my forehead fall against the door with a thud.

i turn, pressing my back against the door and allowing my body to slide down until my butt rests against the floor. thinking over the entire fight, tears fill my eyes now that i’m alone.

what just happened?

he’ll come back. he has to.

right?

*** PRESENT ***

he never came back.

in fact he hasn’t contacted me since that fight. completely ghosting me. shunning me out of his bright new life.

i still wake up most mornings, reaching out towards the cold sheets of the right side of the bed, expecting him to be there. his bright smile and his infectious body temperature, like my own personal space heater. but i know he’s not there, and i’m not sure he’ll ever occupy that space again.

and now i lay confined to the left side of the bed, my body still unconsciously trained not to sprawl out.

the thin white sheet that covers my body doesn’t do much to protect me from the cold Newfoundland air that seeps in through my broken bedroom window, but i make no move to get up.

it’s long past noon on my day off, but i only woke an hour ago; having been up late into the night, thinking back what felt like a thousand memories of Dawson and i, trying to distract myself of the deafening silence that resulted to my own heartbeat in my ears.

back when we were together and happy.

in high school, when we met.

when i attended his QMJHL games, and when we would go out to eat afterwards, him listening to whatever mindless gossip i had learned through my friends, and me nodding along to his hockey talk and the stories of what stupid things his teammates did before that days game.

when he met my parents for the first time, and when i met his.

when he would get annoyed that we were persuaded to bring his siblings with us places, and i would lace our hands together while he drove, encouraging him to tune out his brother and sister arguing in the back seat over who got to control the music.

back when we had the kind of love that i only ever thought existed in movies.

i reach over to my nightstand, retrieving my phone. and despite knowing this would only hurt me more, i click into my camera roll, entering the still open photo album of our relationship.

i restart at the beginning, the very first photo we ever took together. when we were only fourteen and didn’t know where life would take us. we were strictly friends at the time, meeting through our other friends, who thought we would be cute together.

then i get to the photos when we were fifteen. when Dawson asked me to the 2017 valentine’s dance at school. when we finally started dating. when we were in that awkward stage of finding what our relationship was like now that we had taken the next step.

getting to the pictures of us when we were sixteen was like watching a romantic movie. most were taken after his games, some taken by friends while i kissed him in congratulations of a win or hugged him after a loss. the honeymoon year.

then came the videos. seventeen year old us thought we were the cutest. two years together meant we were a lot more comfortable around each other. videos of him doing face masks with me. of us dancing around his kitchen at two in the morning, nothing providing light besides the open refrigerator.

year three of our relationship was a little trickier. eighteen and we were graduating high school, with plenty of pictures in our caps and gowns to prove it. the year he got drafted by the Devils. that was the year that it really sunk in that he would eventually be leaving. that year, i spent most nights wrapped in his arms, no matter where we were. pictures of me on his lap, his arms holding me to him tight, our friends laughing around us, but we were only paying attention to each other. that was the same year that he held me as i cried and whispered promises in my ear that the future distance would do nothing to us. ‘nothing’s gonna change. not for me and you. we’re invincible. we love each other too much to let anything come between us.’ he had whispered, and i believed him.

year four, we spent every waking moment we could together, because we knew the inevitable would happen and he would have to leave in the fall for his NHL debut. photos of him fishing, with me by his side and reading a book. videos of us singing in the car, our hands gripped tightly together, as though we thought the tighter we held on, the more likely it would be that we get through the eventual distance. videos his sister took of me at his debut game, screaming and bursting with pride after he recorded his first NHL point. lots of facetime screenshots and photos from my trips down to visit him in New Jersey.

and finally, i reach year five. a multitude of pictures from when i visited him for our five year anniversary in Jersey. more facetime screenshots as we endured the last few months of long distance until he finally came home for the off-season. those are quickly followed up by early morning pictures i took of him asleep in my bed. i longed for the nights that he would sleepover, and whenever he did choose to stay the night rather than driving back home, my heart would burst with contentment.

the trip down memory lane ends there. we never reached year six, just shy of five months away from it when we had our final fight. it was a month ago now that we would’ve reached that milestone, and i guess that’s when it became all too real for me. when i fell back into the tight hold of regret and i started thinking about him more often than i didn’t. thinking about him being out there somewhere, possibly moving on from me; from us; it feels like a kick to the gut.

we may have had the kind of love from movies, but if this was a movie he would’ve come back by now.

why didn’t he come back?

the thought rattles in my brain as i finally get up from my bed, deeming four in the afternoon an acceptable time to finally start my day.

i run my hands down my face, slightly surprised to pull them away with tears coating my palms. i hadn’t even realized i was crying.

i run through my usual routine lazily; brush my teeth, wash my face, brush my hair, get changed, make something to eat.

i spend most of the next few hours lounged on the couch, binge watching netflix, and another hour eating a snack and mindlessly scrolling through tiktok. and when the clock strikes nine, i do the same thing i’ve been doing for the past six months. the exact thing that my friends and family have told me is probably the reason i can’t move on; i turn on the Devils game.

they play against Carolina tonight, and i’m eager to watch Dawson continue his point streak. last night he officially hit twelve games, with twenty points within those twelve, and i fully believe that he could beat Taylor Hall’s record of nineteen straight games with a point.

however, as the game stretches on, Dawson doesn’t make a point. in fact, his entire demeanor seems off tonight and i flood with worry.

is he feeling okay?

is he feeling burnt out?

what can i do to help?

nothing. i remember. i can’t do anything to help, because he’s not mine to help anymore.

not since six months ago today.

when the game ends —with Dawson’s point streak officially ended— i make myself a quick dinner before popping some sleeping pills, forcing myself to sleep in order to avoid any more thoughts of my ex; and in my sleep drug induced haze, i vaguely remember opening my camera roll before i fall asleep, phone still in hand.

i thought he’d come back by now.

**

the next two weeks go by uneventfully. my days dragging on, consisting only of work, family dinners, watching Dawson’s games, and lounging in my apartment.

it’s on the fifteenth day, that my friends are able to drag me out of my bubble. coaxing me out of my apartment with the promise of free drinks and taking my mind off of my ex-boyfriend.

but despite their well meant intentions, i’m still checking my phone for the Devils vs Islanders score every few minutes.

“y/n,” Taylor starts, holding out her hand and leveling me with a disappointed glare. “give me your phone.”

“what?” i stare at her in shock, my lips resting in a parted position. “no.”

“no?” she blinks, clearly surprised by the refusal. “babes, you gotta stop checking that score. give it here.”

i hesitate, my gaze fluttering between her outstretched hand and my iphone.

“gimme,” she urges. “i’ll keep it safe. promise.”

she crosses her finger over her heart before holding her hand out again, and this time, i finally hand over the prized possession.

“i want it back when you drop me off.” i remind her, just as Kenzie comes back with a tray of shots.

“and i will totally do that, i swear.” Taylor nods.

“what are we talking about?” Kenzie chimes, sliding a shot to each of us.

“she took my phone.”

“oh good!” she grins. “i thought i was gonna have to be the bad guy and do it.”

Taylor shakes her head before raising her shot glass, Kenzie and i following suit.

“to the first time in history that we’ve all been single at the same time.” Taylor chants, and technically she’s not wrong.

since our friendship started, at the age of thirteen, at least one of us has always had a boyfriend. and for five straight years, that someone was me. but the reminder doesn’t help cheer me up, nor does it distract me from the fact that he left.

Kenzie grimaces at our friends words, shaking her head.

“what? bad toast?” Taylor asks, her nose scrunching. “sorry, hun. my bad.”

i shrug, feigning nonchalance, and we all down our shots. the burn of the liquor provides a nice distraction, taking my mind away for a moment as i focus solely on taking a sip of soda to rid myself of the taste.

“oh god, tequila?” i shudder, my face contorting in disgust, but Kenzie just laughs.

“hey! i shelled out the money for the good shit! this is no in-the-trash tequila!” she defends.

‘in-the-trash’ being a term we’ve used since we could even start drinking at nineteen, just meaning an alcohol that makes us end the night with our head in a trash can.

“all tequila is in-the-trash tequila, Kenz.” i chuckle as she hands me another shot.

“c’mon, drink up.” she grins. “we have a whole night of wild debauchery ahead of us.”

“i’m gonna be nursing a wicked hangover tomorrow, aren’t i?”

*

it’s hours later, nearly two in the morning, when i’m dropped off at home by an uber. i’m heavily inebriated, my head spinning and my sense of judgment completely gone.

i slump against my front door, digging through my purse to retrieve my keys, before i let myself in. i’m barely into the apartment when i strip myself of my shoes, my keys being thrown on the entryway table along with my purse, which topples over on its side.

from the sideways purse slides my phone and my brows thread together in confusion.

when was the last time i had seen that?

did Taylor put that in there when i wasn’t looking?

or had she given it back to me and i just forgot?

at the sight of the device, the entire reason it got taken from me in the first place comes rushing back. i grab the phone from the table, turning it back on as i clumsily make my way to my bedroom, slumping onto my bed.

i squint, blinking a few times at the brightness that emerges from the screen within the pitch black room. clicking into the espn app, the heart plummets as i see the final score.

Devils lose, 1-5. and maybe it’s the alcohol in my system, heightening my emotions, but my heart breaks for my ex and his team and i want nothing more than to comfort him like i used to.

so with the confidence i could only have when drunk, and no one around to stop me, i pull up his contact, clicking the call button.

it rings, on and on until it finally chimes with his voicemail, and the sound of his voice makes my heart leap in my chest.

oh how i’ve missed his voice.

it beeps again, letting me know i can leave message, and instead of hanging up, like i would with anyone else, the words spill out of my mouth.

“hi, Daws. i’m so sorry about your loss tonight. and i’m sorry about your point streak too. i really thought you could beat the record.”

tears gather at my waterline, my voice beginning to shake as my throat grows thick. this is the first time i’ve called him since that night.

“but i’m- god i’m really so mad at you. you left me, and you didn’t come back. no calls, no texts. did five years mean nothing? i know people change, and these things happen; and i know i said i didn’t wanna talk to you but- this is me officially taking it all back now, okay?”

a sob wracks my chest, and i let my tears flow freely in the comfort of my darkened bedroom.

“i just— i love you so much. and i miss you. i thought you’d come back. you can still come back, if you’d just say you’re sorry. please, come back.”

my thumb smacks down on the red button, ending the call, and i power my phone down, chucking it beside me on the bed.

my cries grow louder and i feel as though i could drown in my own tears. rolling onto my side, my body curls into the fetal position and i wrap my arms around my legs. it feels like i lay like that forever until i’m cried out, my eyelids growing heavier and heavier until i can hold them open no longer, letting myself fall asleep.

i’m woken in the morning to the sun peeking through the curtains that i seemingly forgot to close last night in my drunken stupor.

when did i get home last night?

how many drinks did i have?

stretching out my body, i sit up in my bed, reaching over to my nightstand to retrieve my phone to check the time, but it’s not there. my hands pat through the sheets, finally discovering the device on the other side of the bed, and i power it on.

my head pounds, the room spinning and light nausea flooding over me from my hangover.

i’m never drinking again.

the time on my phone reads noon, and i’m not shocked by how long i slept. considering i can barely remember anything that happened after my seventh shot last night, i’m surprised i’m not still dead to the world.

i notice some notifications, but refuse to scroll through them, not ready to face the ‘how dead are we all feeling?’ texts from my friends yet. so rather than staying on my phone, i leave it on my bed as i get up and run through my routine.

i brush my teeth before hopping in for a quick shower, hoping that it’ll help rid me of my hangover, before i get dressed and go to the kitchen to retrieve a gatorade and make myself breakfast.

i stand in front of my living room window as i drink my gatorade, peering through the glass at the gray sky. it seems that the weather is matching my gloomy mood, as it begins to pour rain from the dark clouds.

sighing, i return to my couch, turning on the tv and flipping through the channels until i get distracted by the NHL Network, which replays last nights Devils game, and i can’t convince myself to change it.

the camera pans to Dawson’s face and he looks entirely disappointed by the low score of his team.

if only i could cheer him up.

how i would love to be able to hug him again.

how i would love to see him at my front door again, like i would’ve a few years ago after a QMJHL game. when he would show up after a lost game that i couldn’t attend, and my mother would just shake her head at his appearance but ultimately smile at the way he wrapped his arms around me.

but that was then, and this is now. in an alternate reality, maybe i’m in Jersey with him right now, his head on my chest as i talk him through the loss, but in this reality, we’re broken up, and that doesn’t seem to be changing any time soon. eventually, i’ll have to accept that our lives weren’t meant to intertwine forever. time wasn’t in our favor, and fate wasn’t in our cards.

it’s four in the afternoon when a knock sounds at my door, loud and obnoxious as i try to focus on the movie that now plays on my television. grumbling to myself as i stand up, i assume it’ll be Taylor or Kenzie stopping by to check in on me after i’ve avoided their texts.

but when i open the door, time seems to freeze, and i decide my eyes must be deceiving themselves. i slam the door shut again, blinking a few times before i open it once more, but my eyes are working fine.

standing in the rain, outside of my apartment door, is Dawson.

“i— what—” i stutter, unsure of what to do or say. my heart races in my chest and i can’t decide whether i’m more nervous or excited to see him. “what are you doing here? why aren’t you in Jersey?”

“you asked me to come back.” his voice is like melted butter, just as smooth as i remembered it. his eyes accentuated by dark circles from apparent lack of sleep, but they’re still that soft brown that i’ve always loved so much, his gaze soft as he stares back at me.

“what?” confusion drips from the single word, but then the memory comes flooding back to me. getting home last night, checking the game score, calling him. “you came back… because i asked you to?”

he steps forward, and with the light from inside reflecting against his eyes and lighting up his face amongst the gray clouded skies, my heart drops. i’ve missed him so much, and now that he’s back here in front of me, i’m questioning it?

“i would do anything if you asked me to.” he speaks hesitantly. “i’m sorry, y/n.

“i’m sorry i accused you of not wanting to move with me— of not loving me enough. i let my insecurities and my fears that you would get tired of barely seeing me and leave me, get the best of me. i’m sorry i left that night without fighting to stay. fighting for us. i’m sorry that i didn’t talk to you, i thought it was what you wanted, but i see how stupid i was for that now. i’m sorry that i made you wait so long for me to come back, but i’m here now. to apologize and to get you back, because i still love you so much and i don’t know if i can take another day of not having you anymore.”

tears roll slowly down my cheeks at his words and i open the door farther, ushering him inside before i speak. my hands come up to hold his face, my eyes gazing into his.

“i’ve been waiting for you every day since you’ve been gone.” i whisper, my voice shaky. “i thought you were gone forever, and i was still waiting. because deep down i’ve always known that you are it for me, Dawson Mercer. if i didn’t have you, i didn’t want anyone else.

“i didn’t think you wanted me anymore. and some part of me accepted that, but a larger part of me just kept hoping and praying that you would come back. Daws, i would much rather spend nine months only having some of you, than forever having none of you.”

his head dips down, lips meeting mine, not even minding the salty tears that have run over my lips. kissing him again is like breathing for the first time in six months. like a natural instinct that i finally gained access to again, and when he pulls away, i pull him back down, not ready to give it up again.

finally, i pull back just enough to breath in deep, replacing the lack of oxygen in my lungs.

“i love you.” he whispers, his lips still brushing against mine, and a smile breaks out upon my face, pecking a kiss on his own small smile.

“i love you too.” i tell him, retreating to look in his eyes. “i do have a question, though.”

“anything.” he nods, prepared to answer anything i throw at him.

“are you stupid?!” i lightly smack his arm and his brows furrow in confusion. “shouldn’t you be in Jersey, practicing so you can beat the Rangers on thursday?”

he laughs, pulling my body in closer against his.

“i should.” he nods. “but i took a maintenance day, so i could win back my biggest fan. i do have to be back for practice tomorrow, but, i was hoping maybe you’d come with me.”

my heartbeat picks up at his confession and the nervous expression painted across his face after he says it, but i nod and his face lights up.

“really?” he questions, and i’m overwhelmed with excitement, nodding again.

“yeah, Daws, i’ll go anywhere with you.”

“in that case, our flight leaves in a few hours…” he grimaces and my eyes widen as i step back.

“i gotta pack. i gotta go online and put in to use my paid time off.” i freeze, dread filling my senses. “i have to tell Taylor and Kenzie i won’t make girls night for a month.”

Dawson’s head drops back in laughter before he looks back at me again, sporting a smirk. “a bit longer than that, i think you’re forgetting, we’re going to the playoffs.”

“oh my god, two months.” i stare back at him in joking horror. “oh they’re gonna hate you.”

“me? you’re the one skipping out on girls night!” he calls out, following me into my bedroom as i begin throwing clothes into a suitcase.

“yeah, but they could never hate me. you? they’ve already disliked for six months.” he shrugs, nodding at my words.

“fair enough.” he replies, helping me grab shirts off of hangers and pack them away into my suitcase. “you think they’ll ever like me again?”

i hum in thought, “i don’t know, maybe once they hear about how you flew back for only a mere few hours to apologize to me in the rain.”

“and i’d do it again.” he grins, pulling my body to his, my back against his chest. he buries his face in my neck, nipping at my skin and making me laugh.

maybe our love is like the movies, we just had to suffer through the ‘third act breakup’ in order to get to our happy ending.

[kathlare]

tornado warnings

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando confronts his unresolved feelings for Amelie as he listens to her song Tornado Warnings. The raw, emotional lyrics force him to face the mistakes he made in their complicated relationship, leaving him overwhelmed with guilt and regret over what he lost.

Wordcount: 1.0 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

October 12th, 2022 - London, United Kingdom

Lando sat on the plush couch in his family’s living room, the quiet of the night settling in like a heavy blanket. The house was empty aside from him—his parents were out, and his younger brother was visiting friends. It was rare for him to have these moments of stillness, where the world slowed down long enough for him to breathe and reflect.

He had been meaning to listen to Amelie's album for months now, ever since it came out. But somehow, he kept avoiding it. Maybe because he knew deep down that it would bring back memories he wasn’t ready to face, memories that still haunted him. He grabbed his headphones, plugged them into his phone, and hit play.

The first few tracks were catchy, fun, the kind of music that made him tap his feet and nod his head. But he wasn’t really listening. Not like he used to with Amelie’s music. It felt too detached, too clinical—like listening to someone else's life. And that’s what it was, wasn’t it? Her life, her journey, her voice. Not his.

Then came the song. The one he’d been dreading: Tornado Warnings.

The first notes hit him with a strange pang in his chest. He stopped what he was doing and just listened. He wasn’t prepared for how it made him feel—how it cut through him like a blade, opening up a wound he thought he had buried.

"We were never in the park," the lyrics began, Amelie’s voice lilting and haunting. Lando leaned back into the couch, closing his eyes as the words swept over him. "Talking on a seesaw, teetering with our feelings in the dark." That was them, wasn’t it? Always balancing on the edge, pretending to be something they weren’t. Always avoiding the truth of what they were to each other.

"Ignoring tornado warnings."

He let out a shaky breath, his fingers tightening around his phone as he braced for more.

He didn't hold me in his arms, we didn't stumble over the pages of our relationship arc... The lyrics kept hitting home, pulling him deeper into memories he couldn’t escape. It was true. They never fully committed, never fully admitted what they were to each other. He had never really held her in the way she deserved, not in the way that could have kept her from walking away.

The guilt hit him like a wave.

And then, the lines that really got him:

"Don’t understand how quickly we get right back in our rhythm without missing a step, and logically, the last thing I should have on my mind, but I want you there sometimes."

It was like hearing her voice for the first time again. The way she always knew how to make him laugh, how they could talk for hours about nothing at all, or everything at once. It wasn’t just friendship anymore—it was something else, something more, something that never fully had a name. And now, it was gone.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to focus as the tears began to blur his vision. "I guess maybe that's why I'm lying to my therapist..." Amelie’s voice broke through the fog of his thoughts, raw and vulnerable.

He didn’t know why, but the thought of her sitting with a therapist, talking about him—it hit him harder than he’d ever expected. He had convinced himself that they were just two people who drifted apart, that it didn’t matter anymore. But hearing her sing about lying to her therapist, about trying to convince herself that it didn’t matter, made him feel like the biggest piece of shit on the planet.

"I keep saying things like, ‘I never saw him and we never kissed,’" she sang, and Lando’s heart twisted painfully.

He had always known that Amelie had a way of hiding things, of putting on a brave face when she was breaking inside. But he hadn’t realized how much she had buried until now. He thought he had hurt her, but he didn’t understand how much until he heard it in her voice—her sadness, her longing, her regret.

"Now I think, somehow, in my mind, if I could convince him, if he doesn’t see it, then maybe it doesn’t exist. I think he’s onto me every time I say, “I’m over that son of a bitch.”

Lando gasped, a lump rising in his throat as the weight of her words settled over him. He had pushed her away. He had been the one to turn his back on their connection. He had been the one to prioritize everything else—the girls, the distractions, the fame—over the one person who had truly understood him.

She had deserved more than that. More than him.

"I’ll drive you home, you drive me crazy, but that’s not gonna stop me..."

He could hear the pain in her voice, the mix of love and anger, the way she had tried to make sense of their twisted dynamic.

But it was too late. The realization hit him like a freight train. They could have been something. They should have been something. He had let it slip through his fingers.

Lando finally pulled the headphones from his ears and stared at the blank wall in front of him, tears slipping down his face without him even realizing it. He had messed it all up. And now, she was gone. Not just physically—she was gone from his life, from his heart.

He never wanted to admit it to himself, but now, listening to her voice, he couldn’t deny it anymore. Amelie was the one that got away. And he had no one to blame but himself.

The song echoed in his mind as the weight of everything crushed him.

He had always been good at pretending. But now, in the silence of his family home, he couldn’t pretend anymore.

[finniestoncrane]

hey i'm here to see a movie in your wee cinema!!

i'd love to see gn!reader sit in the front row with ssktjl!boomer, watching an action movie while eating strawberry ice cream<33 (sorry if the requests are suppose to be more straightforward, i like the lil set up you have and wanted to play along heheh)

also congratulations on 2k followers!! i've been following you since the peak batman 2022 days and you're a writer i always look forward to seeing on my dash. i'd love to be entered into your commission raffle too if that's okay?? thank you for your writing, you're a real treasure<33

ah, thank you bug!! i'm glad we're growing from terrible boy to terrible boy together ;-; and of course!! 💚🩷 cw: blood, injury, hurt/comfort (physical wounds), flirting, drunk george 🔞minors dni🔞 send a request • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie2k (to follow or to block)

Usually you wouldn't answer your door in the middle of the night. And you certainly wouldn't answer it to the loud, threatening pounding that had shaken you awake. But as you approached it, nearest solid object in hand as your only weapon, you felt your body relaxing. Outside of the door you could hear George's voice, mumbling.

Drunk. Again. And no doubt making an attempt at a late night 'root' as he often put it.

But when you swung open the door, you found him slumped between two men, beaten, bruised and bloody, and filled with questions which were quickly answered by his reluctant assistants.

"Nah, you were right, he's completely wasted. Didn't stop him trying to fist fight three guys in the parking lot, though. All because they claimed that the Flash was the best one in the Justice League. He never stood a chance."

And when two patrons had decided they couldn't watch him be beat to death, regardless of how much they felt he deserved it, your address was the one he had chosen to give them.

"Great. Well, thanks. I can take him from here."

As they passed him over to you, George smiled, his mouth filled with blood that spilled over his lips as he spoke.

"Ah, see! I knew you'd be good for it, babe!"

With his arm around your shoulder, you practically carried him over to your sofa and let him slump down into it. His eyes were closed over, but he was still grinning, a wide and stupid smile that was irritatingly pulling at your heart strings.

You snapped your fingers in front of his face, calling his name until he opened his eyes and focused, very slowly, on you.

"Hey! Don't fall asleep yet. I need to make sure you're ok, first."

"Cos you like me?"

"Hm. More that I don't want a dead guy on my couch."

He laughed, snorting incredulously.

"Yeah... it's cos you like me."

The moment you began to wipe away the blood on his face, however, he made an attempt to bat you away.

"Oi! Get off, I'll be fine! I think I can take a beating without needing to be looked after, thank you very much."

George stood up from the couch and immediately stumbled over nothing, falling back down with a heavy thud.

"Come on, Harkness. Don't act like you're so tough and brave. I think you've forgotten how many times you've been on this couch in a drunken stupor. Now, stop with the machismo and let me look at you, idiot."

You took his face in your hands, and though he stubbornly wiggled at first, he calmed down as your thumb grazed across his cheekbone, your eyes focused on his as you surveyed the damage, the blooming bruises in the corners that spread to the bridge of his nose.

"You're hands... are so soft..."

He smiled at you, a genuine, gentle grin that you couldn't help but return.

"... I can think of somewhere else that might need some attention from them."

"Aw, come on."

As you stood up and turned from him, hiding your smile, you could hear him groaning.

"What? What was wrong with that? I thought you were going to look after me? Nurse? Nurse! Oi! Get back here for my sponge bath!"

[fataleshifts]

Hello Shiftblr!

Hi! This is my new shifting Tumblr account that I will be using since TikTok is getting banned. Please bare with me as I am learning how to navigate Tumblr. Thanks!

To start off, I will introduce my main DRs that I have.

𝐡o𝐠𝓦a𝓻𝔱𝕤 ϟ

In this reality, my name is Lila Laelia Lunaria Lestrange (mouthful I know). My parents are Sirius Black and Laelia Lestrange. My mother was unalived by Voldemort during the first wizarding war because he thought I was one of the two children that would lead to his downfall. For my safety, my father, Sirius, had his cousin Helene Black (who is the identical twin and squib of Bellatrix Lestrange) take me into hiding outside of the country. I was raised in America until the wizarding war was over and Voldemort had been vanquished. When I got older, I had no idea about my magical existence. Helene (who I call my mother) thought that I was a squib and was relieved by that idea. Until one day, I was taking a train home in Kings Cross Station when I began to hear strange voices. These voices eventually led me to accidentally destroy the station. Glass was bursting everywhere, lights flickered until the power cut out, and the trains going by suddenly stopped. A power outage happened all across London, but only for a minute until the lights came back on. Then I will shift to the next morning after this event had happened where I will then learn that I am a witch and I have to attend Hogwarts. I will be shifting to first year, 1991. I did originally have Harry as my s/o for this DR, but I may change it to an OC that I have in mind. Still debating.

ℜᴏᴄᴋ 𝔅ᴀɴᴅ 𝔉ᴀᴍᴇ 𖤐

In this DR, my name is Katherine Rose Osbourne. Yes, that's right. Osbourne. I am the eldest daughter of Sharon and Ozzy Osbourne. I was born on October 31st, 1981 (yikes) as a "surprise baby". My siblings are Aimee, Kelly, and Jack. I am shifting to October 26th, 1995. I wanted to experience my teen years in this DR because I always wanted to live through the 90s. Plus the Osbournes are chaotic, and OzzFest!! My future s/o will be Ville Valo. He is the lead singer of my favorite band HIM. My future career is being both an actress and singer, as well as, a very far off into the future, director. I will form a band called 'The Damned' and I basically stole the whole soundtrack of Queen of the Damned (watch it if you haven't). Then in the 2000s I do a solo career where I release the album Fallen (yes, the Evanescence one) and The Open Door (can you tell I love Evanescence so much I had to steal their music?). For movies, I am in: Interview with the Vampire (1994) as Claudia, Romeo + Juliet (1996) as Juliet, Sleepy Hollow (1999) as Katrina Von Tassel, and Nosferatu (2015) as Ellen Hutter. For my directing, I only will direct and write one tv show and that is Interview with the Vampire (2022- ). I have been thinking about making this my new CR once I'm done shifting throughout the multiverse. Possibly.

⋆⁺₊⋆ѕαη∂мαη☾⋆⁺₊

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . 　

(shameless pinterest plug)

This is the current DR that I am obsessed with and currently shifting to (please if there are any Sandman shifters, let me know). Side note: I'm also reading the Sandman comics for the first time so I incorporated some events from the comics into my DR.

Anyways, in this DR my name is Laila. I chose this name because it means 'night' and goes with my identity as the Goddess of Sleep and Death.

My parents are Hades and Persephone. I was born in the Underworld, but I didn't live there for long as I was taken when I was 3-years-old. "Why were you taken?" I'm glad you asked (no one asked but Imma tell you anyways). Alex Burgess once had a lover named Paul. Paul died unexpectedly and this sent him into an indescribable grief. Alex would do anything to get Paul back. He even asked the King of Dreams to bring him back, but only received silence from the Dream King. In frustration, Alex followed in his father's footsteps and attempted to summon Death again. Only this time, he did. Well, sort of. It was a toddler. Death was a toddler. Despite that, Alex asked the child with white hair to bring him back Paul. The child responded clearly, coherently, "He is where he needs to be". This upset Alex deeply. As he was practically sobbing in front of the child, the little girl raised his chin to force him to look at her and she channeled Paul. Creepily, Paul's voice spoke from the girl's mouth as her eyes were clouded over. Alex had Paul back. And so he kept the child close. So close that he would force her to channel Paul so that he could talk to him any time he needed. Alex would reward her with toys, treats, anything she wanted. Until...she could no longer contact Paul.

From being in the mortal world for far too long, I had lost my memories of my identity and my abilities. I could no longer bring dead plants back to life or talk to spirits who passed by. So, Alex got angry and shoved me in the upstairs attic where I was left. Don't worry, I was still fed and clothed. A woman servant would bring me things I needed, and food of course. But that was all the interaction I had received for 9 years until one day I had received a weird dream.

Just to give context, as a child I would sleep walk constantly to the basement door. No one knew why. I would never dream. I dreamt entirely nothing as a child. But I always walked to that door. Every. Night. Then one night, I somehow walked past that door and made it down the stairs and reached the interior of the basement. I remember, very faintly, some man inside of a glass orb. I couldn't quite see what he looked like or figure out why he was there. Before I could go any further toward the man, I was whisked away by Alex who came rushing down the steps, yelling at me to get away from 'it'. Strange I would say. But I soon forgot about it as I assumed it was only a dream. After I was locked up in the attic, I could not sleep walk to the basement. Then that's when the dreams began. I dreamt of an angel every so often. A beautiful man who looked to be trapped somewhere. Somewhere I couldn't see. All I saw was his face and anguish. Years went by like this. I dreamt of only the same thing and I couldn't dream of anything else. I painted this angel. I had drawn this angel. I wrote about this angel. He plagued my mind and I couldn't understand why. I assumed I was the next Joan of Arc. Being plagued by visions of an angel---except, less cool since I wasn't leading a French army...nor was I a warrior. But still. This angel was the only thing keeping me from entirely losing my mind in my isolation.

Context over. The strange dream. This dream was not like the normal dreams that I would have. This one was more vivid, felt more real, and as if I was actually there. I was in some type of basement. It felt familiar. Before me I saw a pale man inside of a glass orb---wait...the angel? I think I know this place. I've been here before. To the right of me, I saw guards sitting at their desk. One reading a book and the other reading the newspaper. They didn't seem to see me. I attempted to walk towards the man inside the glass cage. To my surprise, he looked up. He could see me. We lock eyes. Intense. Heart pounding. Knees weak. Arms are heavy. Mom's Spaghetti (you get it). Anyways, I walk towards him. When I reach the glass, I can see clearly that it's the same man, or angel, that I have been dreaming about for years. The same angel who nearly made me think I was schizophrenic. I placed my hand on the glass. For whatever reason, I felt like I was pulled to him. A connection (soulmate trope you already know). The angel placed his hand in the same place where mine was. I wondered then, "Could I break the glass?" and tapped my index finger. Crack. Tap. Crack. Tap. Crack. Tap---my alarm went off and I woke up in my bed, in the attic.

Sorry, all of this is so long. I have so much lore and put so much detail into this script that I needed to share it with someone! Anyone!

But, yeah, after I had that dream, I will shift into this DR and that's when I help break Morpheus out of his cage and the adventure begins!

If you couldn't already tell, my s/o is Morpheus (Dream of the Endless). Our trope is soulmates (arrest me if you will).

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　

Thanks for reading!