#god i hope i finish this before 2020

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ vii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: that's it folks. welcome to the end. peace out (my hand is hurting like a bitch) NOT EDITED NOT BETA READ EXCUSE THE MISTAKES

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal @landorris @onecojg @leclercdream @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @spookystitchery @0710khj @strollnstroll @justab-eautifulmess @ssrcsm i hope i didn't forget anyone

masterlist.

max: ANSWER ME

max: [NAME] I SWEAR TO GOD

max: I’LL FLY TO TEXAS RIGHT NOW I SWEAR

max: THIS IS ALL FUN AND GAMES FOR YOU ISNT IT

max: YOU FUCK ME AND THEN YOU LEAVE

max: YOU'RE ALL FUCKING THE SAME ALWAYS LEAVING ME

max: FUCK YOU [NAME]

max: TALK TO ME YOU COWARD

max: EXPLAIN YOURSELF

max: IM GOING INSANE HERE

Max has visited your apartment a total of two times since he’s given you the keys. The first time—Max remembers it was in early January 2020. You held a housewarming party disguised as a little lunch get-together as a thank-you for his gift. Daniel and him as well as two of your former roommates, Max recognizes them as Julia and Kendall from the PR team, are the only ones invited. You cooked pasta. Your mother’s recipe, you claimed. It easily became one of Max’s favorite dishes in the world and he requests you to cook it from time to time.

The second time, Max remembers going there again after the Monaco Grand Prix 2021. It’s been only a week after your breakup with Leo and four races before the incident with the Hamilton fan in Silverstone. The team holds a dinner to celebrate Max taking P1 and usually, you’re present in these types of things—the after parties and team dinners and all forms of team celebrations in general because you like celebrations but you're nowhere to be found.

Max finishes dinner quickly and excuses himself to Horner. He grabs a beer and drives himself to your apartment, because he knows you’re definitely not staying in the hotel with the team.

When you’re sad, you tend to hide away. It's an annoying habit. You make it your career to dig your nose into everyone’s problem—Max’s most especially—and provide everyone with the help you can offer. It's your love language, Max thinks, to be insanely helpful to everyone but the moment that the places switch and you’re the one who needs help, you run away because you refuse to bother everyone else with your problems despite the amount of people who are willing to return the favor you gave them in the past. It is very hypocritical of you.

He knocks on your door. Four slow knocks followed by three quick ones, so you’ll know it's him. It's an established pattern, a system that works for both of you. You shout for him to wait and Max does so, observing the details of the woodwork in front of him as he waits patiently for you. You have a very nice door.

You open the door. Max’s brows raised slightly at the sight of you. You're still in your Red Bull polo shirt but instead of the pencil skirt you were wearing during the race, you wore short shorts instead. Black, fitted, and they stop a little above your mid-thighs. You're barefoot, too. No YSL heels in sight.

Max turns into a lovely shade of pink. You don't notice it.

You have long legs despite being 5’5” only, which gives off the illusion that you’re very tall when you're actually not. Your body ratio consists of seventy-five percent legs and twenty-five percent upper body. You have lean legs. It's full of childhood scars—thin white lines that are barely noticeable because of how old they are. You have well-built calves and dainty ankles, which look weird but also look right, and your feet are veiny, jagged lines of green blue on skin. Max thinks it's because you wear heels every day.

“Somethin’ wrong, man?” your voice sounds nasal, hoarse, and deep at the same time. Your eyes and nose are red and Max knows full well that you’ve been crying over Leo again and yet you carry yourself as if you're fine, standing in front of him with your shoulders straightened and your tone professional.

Max never liked the bitterness that washes over him whenever he sees you with Leo. But at that moment, he’ll rather endure the bitterness that chokes him until he thinks he’s about to pass out if that makes you alright, if that makes you stop crying.

“I have beer.”

It's a lame thing to say. He should have said something better. He should have asked if you’re alright, should have asked why you were crying, should have asked if there's anything you need him to do just so you’ll feel better. But his mind blanks and he just thrusted the beer forward.

You smile, shaking your head. You take the beer from his hands gratefully, “I have pasta. Wanna go in?”

It's a fair trade. You love beer. He loves your pasta. And so, he entered your apartment.

He faces your door for the third time in 2023. A million thoughts run around his brain per second as his eyes train on the wood patterns of your front door. Dread pools in his stomach as he holds the door knob. He only holds it, not twisting it and pushing it open just yet.

Max is stalling. He knows that. He shouldn't be stalling. He knows that, too.

He dreads what's waiting for him on the other side of the door. He can hear your voice in the back of his skull, saying, “Pussy. You risk your life and drive a rocket ship for a livin’ and you’re afraid of openin’ a damn door?”

Max takes a deep breath and opens the door. Silence and emptiness greets him.

Your apartment has always been bare. You refuse to buy carpets, curtains, houseplants, decorative furnishings or anything that can make your loft apartment seem like someone actually lives there.

(“It's expensive here,” you said.

“I’ll pay,” Max offered.

“No,” you shook your head. “I’ll just bring something from home.”

You never did.)

Max’s feet lead him to your living room. Dust accumulates on top of your glass coffee table and couch. Max remembers them coming along when he bought the apartment. You never got them changed.

His brows furrowed when his eyes landed on the familiar looking box that sits atop the coffee table. He strides towards it, head tilting to read the little pink sticky note attached to it. It reads: Sorry Max, I can't steal more from Kelly.

Max’s entire world crumbles down. He opens the shoe box and sees the shoe, arranged carefully in place.

He hurriedly reaches for the folder next to it and reads the writings inside.

Max, I know you’d be the one who’d find this one day. By that time, I’ll be in Texas already. I don't know if I’d have told you that I resigned already. If I didn't, that's because I’m a pussy. Sorry.

Anyways, I will say this as straightforwardly as I can because I think I had been a pussy long enough.

I resigned, Max. I won't be your manager by 2024.

Max keeps re-reading the last two sentences just to make sure he’s reading it correctly.

I resigned, Max. I won't be your manager.

I resigned, Max.

resigned.

Max hurls the shoe box and it zooms in the air and hits the wall. He fists his hair and pulls. A scream erupts in his throat. The neighbors are going to file a noise complaint but Max cannot bring himself to care. He’s the one whose heart is breaking here.

He grabs the folder. Max feels something fall on his foot. He looks down.

A beaded bracelet. Navy blue and red—the color of Red Bull. There are three white beads in the bracelet and on those three white beads are the letters M and V—his initials—and the number 1—his current number.

Max drops on his knees. He picks up the little thing with trembling hands. He brings the bracelet to his chest and Max falls apart. This time, you’re not here to hold him together.

max: hey im planning to visit the US

max: do you think you can show me around?

Logan Sargeant is a good driver. That's a given. It's his profession. But the way he drives; it's making Max sleepy.

“So….” Logan begins awkwardly. “I’m assuming you're visiting Texas because of [Name].”

Max nods, “Yeah.”

“You're not mad at her, are you?” Logan asks. “For resigning?”

“She told you?”

So you told the American boy but not him? Max cannot help but be offended now.

“Well, I kinda assumed? Liam mentioned it to the other day, who heard the news from his cousin.”

Max’s brows furrow.

“Lawson?”

“Yes, Lawson.”

Max remembers the kid all too well. Liam Lawson has overtaken him in Singapore after all. It's embarrassing. Watch out, Max, you teased him. Liam’s out to get you.

“Liam probably heard it from Leo.”

“Leo?”

Logan is mentioning too many names. Well, it’s just two but two is still many for his brain to comprehend right now.

“Yeah, Leo and Liam are cousins.”

Max pauses.

“Leo and [Name] still talk so I guess [Name] told Leo, who must have mentioned it to Liam, who then mentioned it in the groupchat with me and Osc—are you okay?”

Max tries his hardest not to scream.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, voice tight. “I’m fine. How far are we from Austin?”

They drive past a sign that says “Welcome to Austin.”

“Well, it looks like we’ve just arrived.”

Max is once again offended that Logan knows where you live while he doesn't. Vista Del Pueblo, Logan tells him the name of the place as they hop off the car. It's funny how close you lived from the Circuit of the Americas. No wonder you always requested to be home after the Austin GP before flying off to the next city.

The two-storey yellow and red brick house is empty. Despite that, it looks like a perfect picture of a happy childhood home. The backyard and the patio is wide. Beside the driveway stands an olden tree. Below the tree is a reclining chair that looks like it has gone through a dust storm and a thousand rains.

“It’s empty,” Max announces. Logan nods.

“Yeah.”

Logan ends up approaching an old woman in the neighboring house who was sweeping dust off her porch and asks her if she knows the [Last Name] family’s whereabouts.

“They haven't returned home since Christmas,” she replies. “Everyone in the neighborhood tried contacting them but no one got through. Ever since Julio died… It's like the entire family followed after him.”

Max and Logan stiffen, shocked at the news that's just been revealed.

Julio died….?

Max needs to find you. Urgently. He needs to see if you're okay.

The sun retires for the night and Max decides that it's time for Logan and him to retire as well. Logan drives them to a hotel and Max pays for two rooms despite Logan insisting that he can pay for his own. They grab dinner at the hotel restaurant, in a private area that Max paid for.

“You’re not angry at her, aren't you?” Logan asks for the second time that day. His plate is half empty. Meanwhile, Max’s plate is barely touched. His appetite significantly decreased. He keeps thinking about you, worried about how you're coping with Julio’s death. You are never the best person when it comes to dealing with pain. Physical pain, you can handle. You’re barely fazed when you burn your hand in the oven, when you hit your hip at the corner of the table, when you accidentally get scratches and you don't even notice it until someone points out the blood that terrifyingly drips down your arm. Max can still remember how you dealt with your breakup with Leo. All those nights crying, the unhealthy fixation in work so you won't have any space feeling human emotions, the moments where you disconnect with reality that Max has to pull you out of many times. The death of a father is a million times worse than a breakup. Max imagines a thousand scenarios in his mind. He needs to be with you right now. He needs to make sure you're alright.

“I hope you're not. You obviously are but I still hope you're not,” Logan continues. “She was always going to leave, you know? She told me in January. She told me that she needs to—

Max accidentally throws the glass of water he was holding. It falls onto the floor. The sound of shattering glass echoes throughout the room. Logan stares at Max with his eyes wide. A cleaning crew comes in a hurry and cleans it up. Max doesn't apologize, he only says, “send me the bill later” and sends the crew out. He turns to Logan.

“She needs to what?”

“You're angry.”

You reminded me, Max said in his mind.

“And?” Max raises his brow. “She needs to what?”

Logan lets out a shaky breath, “She needs to become an engineer or else she’ll never forgive herself.”

Manager. Engineer. What's so damn special about that engineering position anyway? Why are you so hell bent on leaving Max? Red Bull pays you more than an engineer. Hell, Max is even willing to raise your salary to the same amount as half of his annual salary in Red Bull if it keeps you from leaving him. Max is willing to pay for your student loans and refund everything you paid to USC during your college years.

Max pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep sigh. He’s feeling too many emotions all at once.

“I think it's best if you talk to Leo?” Logan suggests. Max appreciates that he’s trying to be helpful but mentioning Leo brings nothing but more anger in him. Fucking Leo. Why does he know where you are? He’s your fucking ex for god’s sake. Why are you even still talking to your ex? “He’s close with [Name]. I think he can help you.”

Max contemplates.

He doesn't want to ask fucking Leo.

And he’s not that desperate to seek help from him.

Logan writes his number on a table napkin. Max pockets it.

After dinner, Max sits inside his hotel room. He dials the number Logan gave him because if he’ll tell you where you are, he can swallow his pride for a day. It takes three redials and two rings before Leo answers.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Leo Stark?”

“Yes, this is he. May I ask who’s calling?”

“It’s Max Verstappen.”

Silence.

“Hello, are you still there?”

Max hears a loud crash followed by a series and a whole lot of ruffling, “Sorry about that. Do you mind repeating that?”

“Max Verstappen.”

“Ah, so I’m not hearing things. I thought I was hearing things. Sorry. Do you wish to talk to James Vowles? I can transfer the call to him.”

“No,” Max says. “I want to talk to you. It's about [Name].”

“Oh.” A pause. “You're going to ask me where she is, aren't you?”

“You're smart.”

“Well, mate, too bad. I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t,” he echoes. “I mean I can but I won’t.”

“So you know where she is.” It's not a question. Something bitter rears its ugly head in his stomach. His bitterness and anger now dwarf his worry for you in size. Fuck Logan for reminding him that you always wanted to leave. Fuck Leo for knowing where you are.

“I’m going to ask again and you better give me the answer I want. Where is she?”

“The answer you want?” Leo clicks his tongue. “It’s always what you want. Have you considered what she wants? Does [Name] even want you to find her?”

“You don't know what you're talking about—”

“I do,” Leo interrupts and the way he sounds so sure of himself aggravates Max. “I do, mate. Believe it or not.”

“I see what's happening here,” Max sneers. “I’ve heard you and [Name] broke up because she was prioritizing me over you. Is this it? Are you doing this out of petty jealousy?”

Leo sighs, “You’re making this about you again.”

Max opens his mouth to retort but Leo cuts him off, “Let me get this straight with you, mate. When we were still dating, not once have I been jealous of you. I understood that she works for you and that she has to put you first in certain situations. After all, you’re her job. I’m just the home she returns to after work.”

Max’s jaw clenches. Leo was her home. It was the truth no matter how much Max hated it. Leo does not stop there.

“I have no issue with her focusing on you. The only problem I have with it is her tendency to focus more on you than herself. If you come to her at a very vulnerable time, especially now, there’s a chance that she’s going to focus on you again. She deals with grief in a very unhealthy way and I don't want her to do that. Not when she needs to properly grieve for her father.”

Leo sighs again.

“So please, mate, just this once. Think about what she needs right now and it’s not you.”

You don't need Max.

But Max needs you.

That is one of the most painful truths he’s ever been given.

“She’ll come back. She always does. It may take months. Years, even. Just… Let her grieve and let her pick herself up. There are people who don't want help because they need to do it themselves or else it won't feel fulfilling. [Name] is no different. Also, I’ll be honest with you, mate. I don't want you coming to her before she achieves her dreams. You’re so used to [Name] giving you everything you want that you forgot that she, too, is someone who needs and wants and dreams. She just wanted to be an engineer.”

“And how is this my fault?”

“You knew what she wanted. You agreed to help her achieve it. You didn't allow her to move to Renault. You told her that you’ll ask your team principal after you win and you did win but you didn't keep your end of the bargain.”

“I—”

“Who are you to control her dreams? If you love her, you would have asked Horner, at least. She knows you never asked Horner. Maybe she would have never resigned if you tried to talk to Horner, but you let your selfishness win.”

Max feels all breath punched out of his lungs.

“You had the power to ask your team principal yet you didn't and she has to watch you achieve your dreams while she can't. Unfair, don’t you think?”

A pause.

“Just start considering what she feels, mate. That's all.”

“I am considering her. Always.” This is the closest to a love declaration he can admit out loud. The purest form of love is consideration, they say. When someone thinks about how things would make you feel, pays attention to detail, holds you in regard when making decisions that could affect you, keeps promises so you won’t be disappointed, that's when you know they love you.

“Are you really?”

Is he really?

“Take care of her for me, Verstappen. Even from afar. You can do that.”

The call ends.

Max stares blankly at the wall, still holding his phone against his ear. Then, he hurls it across the room. He aggressively drags his hand through his face.

Max flies back to Belgium after Austin to spend the rest of his off-season with his mother and sister. He apologizes to Logan for his behavior. Logan is a kind man, he forgives easily. He drives Max to the airport.

The next day, an article is posted, titled—AN UNLIKELY FRIENDSHIP: MAX VERSTAPPEN OF RED BULL RACING AND LOGAN SARGEANT OF WILLIAMS RACING SPOTTED DRIVING AROUND AUSTIN.

On New Year's Eve, Kelly messages Max. He can't say that he’s surprised. In truth, he’s been expecting her to message him, whether it's to beg to take her back or to curse him out or to tell him something about Penelope or it's to inform him that she's going to pick up her things in Max’s penthouse in Monaco.

kelly: i sent someone to pick up our things in your place

max: okay

kelly: also

kelly: *sent a photo*

kelly: she apologized for something that's not her fault

kelly: you have a good one

The photo is a screenshot of Kelly’s conversation with you, dated December 30. That was yesterday.

you: sorry about the breakup

you: i didn't know about the shoes

you: i didn't take it

you: im so sorry

you: i hope you're not too hurt

kelly: i think i’m the one who’s been taking him from you

kelly: take care of him for me

you: thank you for loving him

you: but i can’t do what you're asking

you: not anymore

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Max looks up to see his mother’s worried face.

“Oh, uh,” he closes his phone and almost drops it. Fucking clumsy fingers, fucking messages, fucking pain. “Nothing, Mum.”

His mother does not look convinced.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? No need to hide it. You may be a world champion now but you’ll always be my baby,” she says. “What does [Name] always say? Even champions are allowed to cry.”

At the mention of you, Max looks away.

“Tell me. Is it Kelly?”

The last time Max cried in his mother’s arms was when he was eleven. Jos always said boys should never cry. That boys who cry are weak. And weak people do not become champions. Max wanted to be a champion so he never allowed himself to be weak. Weakness only becomes a weakness if it is known so he learned to bottle it up over the years and all the bottled grief became anger. Hence, the birth of his serious anger issues.

He’s twenty-seven now with three WDC titles under his belt. He’s outgrown both of his parents in terms of physical size and in career accomplishments but when his mother’s arms wrapped around him, he allowed himself to become a little boy again. He allowed himself to be weak.

“She left me, Mum,” Max whispers, hugging her mother close. Sophie rubs his back in soothing circles.

“You’ll find someone, Max,” his mother assures.

“I don't want someone else,” he says. “I want [Name].”

“Oh.”

Sophie blinks.

“Max, you—”

“Please, don't make me say it, Mum,” Max pleads, squeezing his eyes shut. A lone tear drips down his cheek. “Don't make me say I’m in love with [Name].”

Max sends an email to Christian that he’s not going to take a manager in 2024. Christian tells him it's a bad idea, that he needs a manager because he’s becoming busy with his schedules and everyone wants a piece of time with the third-time world driver’s champion but Max cannot care less. If it’s not you, he’d rather have no one at all.

Max wants to learn how to get used without you on his side. He did a little reflecting over pre-season and realized how he had become so dependent on you. He learns the functions of a Google calendar and how to use a Notion page.

Max just knows 2024 is going to be a shitty year for him.

Bahrain, Max remembers, is your favorite track. He doesn't know why you like Bahrain. Bahrain is hot. Bahrain is not as exciting as other race tracks. Personally, he prefers Spa-Francorchamps.

He also remembers that you like watching the air show. You never said it outright but you always have this smile on your face while watching the jets painting the sky with colors so Max kind of figured.

Max snaps a picture of the jets in the sky. He opens his Instagram and searches for your name in his message list. When he presses his conversation with you, the first thing that greets him is his spam of angry messages. All delivered, all unread. The last message, Max remembers, was sent when he visited Austin with Logan to search for you.

max: SO YOU TOLD LEO BUT NOT ME? DO I EVEN MEAN SOMETHING TO YOU?

His finger hovers on the send button. He lets out a sigh and he pockets his phone instead.

Daniel approaches Max after Max wins Jeddah.

“Hey, have you been talking to [Name]?” he asks.

“Not lately,” answers Max. Not since she left me, Max thinks.

Daniel scratches his nape. “I think she's angry at me.”

“You’ve been talking?”

Now, Max is offended. So you talked to Leo, you talked to Kelly, you talked to Daniel, but you made no effort to talk to him? When was he going to get a message from you?

“Well, I kinda…” Daniel pulls out his phone. “I just checked up on her? And she replied like a week later. She sounds kinda angry? I don't know. Do you think she sounds angry?”

Daniel shows Max his last conversation with [Name].

daniel: hey!

daniel: heard from max what happened

daniel: we miss you! you should visit come by in bahrain! the opening is gonna be sick

you: can't sorry

daniel: aww how about jeddah

daniel: i’ll fly you out don't worry about traveling commercial

you: idk man

you: might be too much noise and distraction for you

you: good luck in jeddah tho

A very passive aggressive reply.

“Yeah, she is,” Max supplies.

Max wins Bahrain. Max wins Jeddah. Australia, on the other hand, is a funny story. First, the Williams team pulls an annoying move. Poor Logan. He had to give his car to his teammate and sit out of the race.

Max visits him after the news was officially announced. He finds the American racer in his driver room, sitting sadly on the bed with his head bent low, after asking a rookie Williams mechanic, who trembled at the sight of him.

It's a pitiful looking room. Max has a villa for a driver room. Logan doesn't even have a closet for his overalls, just a rack held together by hopes and dreams. The bed is so tiny and narrow that Max is sure he wouldn't even fit if he lies in there unless he assumes a tight fetal position.

“You’re here,” Logan stands from the bed, eyes wide in surprise. He hasn’t expected Max to visit him out of all the people in the grid. Not even his own teammate performed that courtesy. “Uh, I don't have anything. Here, have my seat. Do you want me to grab—”

“It's fine,” Max holds his palm up. “Sit back down, Logan.”

Logan slowly sits back down and moves to the side so Max can have a space to sit on. Max occupies Logan’s given space beside him. Their shoulders and elbows are touching.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Logan nods.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

Max nods, but he doesn't believe him. Comfortable silence wraps the entire room. It lasted less than five minutes.

“You should break the car,” Max suggests seriously. “So no one can drive it, too.”

A soft laugh escaped Logan’s throat.

The door swings open and enters Leo, who freezes when he sees Max Verstappen sitting next to Logan. He looks at the two F1 drivers then back in his hand, where he was holding a large Stanley cup and two styro cups.

“Great, I only brought two cups,” he says, kicking the door behind him to close it. “Should have told me the world champion is coming. I would have brought the expensive wine.”

“What do you have there?”

“Beer,” Leo lifts the Stanley cup and gives it a small shake. “Transferred it to a Stanley cup so no one would notice.”

“James wouldn’t be happy,” says Logan, frowning.

“We’re not happy with him either,” Leo retorts, pouring the beer into the two cups. He hands one to Logan and another to Max.

“I suggested breaking his car,” Max inserts, accepting the cup. He still feels a bit weird to be hanging out with Leo like this. He’s angry still, but he’s not as angry as he was in Austin. Leo’s words, though Max would never admit it out loud, made sense. You left because of Max’s own selfishness. He was the one who had cut your wings and thought that his gesture was out of love when in fact, it was an action born out of his desperation and his fear of being left behind by you.

“Should I?” Leo humors his suggestion, shrugging his shoulders.

Logan sighs, shaking his head at the two. He can’t believe they're both older than him but still wield that petty immaturity.

“Please don't.”

Second, the RB20 has brake issues in Australia so Max ends up retiring in the middle of the race. Max hears everyone cheer at his retirement. That's when you know he’s good. When everyone wishes for his downfall. Everybody in Red Bull grows wary watching their prized driver stomp inside the garage, looking like he has a lot to say to the mechanics. His head is as hot as the burning car at the pit.

Max hears two people whispering amongst themselves:

“Mad Max is back.”

“Where's [Name] when you need her? He’s going to get blow up at us now.”

“[Name] really is a saintess because she’s the only one who can handle him when he’s angry.”

“I never appreciated her efforts before but I am now. I hope she never left.”

Max hopes she didn't, too. Out of all the people in Red Bull, he’s the one who wishes that she hasn't left the most. Now, he’s even angrier.

Max wins P1. If he doesn't, it's a DNF. The problem is the reliability of the car, not him. Never him.

He steps foot in Austin soil again on October 15th for the 19th race of the season, eager to win another P1 and increase his chance of snatching his fourth consecutive world driver’s championship title.

Fortunately, the RB20 doesn't fail him mid-race. The Dutch national anthem is heard all around the Circuit of the Americas and Max retires to the garage, too tired for any form of celebration. He wants to change out of his racing gear. He still has to fix his Google calendar and check out a few things in his Notion page. Who knew being your own manager can be so tiring?

Kendall comes by, a camera in hand. She snaps a quick picture, only one take because she knows Max hates taking pictures. Max believes you mentioned it to her before and has asked her to take the pictures quickly so he wouldn't get annoyed. You were always too thoughtful, always mindful of the little details. Perhaps, it was why he fell in the first place.

Max pivots on his heels to leave after he hears the camera click.

“Oh Max,” Kendall stops him. “[Name] came by earlier. She said congratulations.”

Max entire world stops spinning. Everything else became a mass of white noise.

“Where's she?” Max demands.

“She left already, said she’s got somewhere to be—”

Max sprints to his driver room, grabs his keys and ran all the way to the parking lot where his car was parked, not minding the screams and the questioning stares he received from the people he ran past them to his car. His mind only focuses on one thing—he has to get to you.

He drives down to the familiar road that he and Logan drove in last December 2023. He's racing against time and like all races he'd participated in, he hopes to win. He hopes that he’ll be able to see you. Max arrives at the red and yellow brick house in Vista Del Pueblo, jogging up until the front door and knocking. Four slow knocks followed by three quick ones, so you’ll know it's him.

No one answers. Max jogs up to the window at the front and peeks inside. The house is still empty as it had been in December.

Max's shoulders sagged.

He wasn't fast enough.

[qqueenofhades]

How do we balance the tentative joy of hearing about the indictment with the overwhelming and crushing knowledge that not a goddamn thing is going to come of this and ultimately nothing will change?

Because

um

reasons.

(actually i feel like if the skies split open and shithead goes to jail it'll just leave a giant sucking void for desantis to slime his way into the party's graces and he'll charge full speed ahead into nuking this country from the inside)

Okay, look. Everyone reacts differently, we've all been through a fuckload of trauma, and all that, but I just... really don't get the pre-emptive "don't get your hopes up, nothing will happen and nothing will change." I know that people do it as a defense mechanism, but we spent months hearing that Trump would win the 2020 election. (He lost it.) Then we heard that all his lawsuits to overturn might actually work. (They didn't.) Then we heard that he wouldn't be impeached after January 6. (He was.) Then we heard that he wouldn't be indicted, and well, today, he was. This is unprecedented in the history of America. Over 250+ years, and a current or former president had never been indicted for anything. Not even goddamn Nixon was formally charged, and Biden definitely isn't gonna pardon Trump the same way Ford did with Tricky Dick. And now that someone has finally bit the bullet and gone first, there are a whole cascade of other indictments lined up and waiting to be finished.

We don't know what will happen, but something will. Trump will be arrested and arraigned, and yet again: this has never happened before. Just throwing up our hands and going "well guess nothing's gonna happen and he'll get off scot free!" is NOT the energy we want to be bringing here. It's time to push forward, make sure that the Manhattan DA, and everyone else with pending charges against him, hold that motherfucker's greasy orange feet to the fire and make him FRY. As for DeSantis, as I have written about before, he's not smart, he's not a good candidate, and his ideas are not by any means universally popular. Fascists thrive on making you feel disempowered and hopeless, so it's no use to fight them since they'll just win anyway, and all the terrible events of the last few years have made it an appealing idea, but... c'mon now.

Everyone insisted for months that Trump would never be charged with anything. But almost 60% of the country thinks that the criminal cases against him are permanently disqualifying, and this is before any major cascades. This whole "if you dare to arrest Trump, he'll win in a landslide in 2024!" psy-op is just that: a psy-op. A trick. A bluff. They're shit scared that the Big Mac God King is finally on the brink of an actual downfall and facing consequences for his actions for the first time in his fucking miserable life, and they're trying to freak us out of doing it, because they have nothing left. So I say: get him. Run him over. Then back up the truck and run him over again.

[violetasteracademic]

I just finished cc3 and I’m worried the next book will be about nesta. Why do you think the next book is still about elain?

Hello my darling anon! Congrats on finishing CC3, you have sent this to a rare bird in the wild who actually enjoyed the hell out of it despite the flaws. So I hope you had a good time!

I'm a bit nervous to show you guys this side of me. Well, I suppose I've been showing it, but to compile it in such a way is quite another ordeal. That being said, I have toooons of links and resources to share why, for me personally, it is so clear that Nesta's story is *not* over, and Elain's book is undoubtedly next. Both of these things are true, but it has everything to do with the direction of the multiverse, which is very tightly woven, and *not* ACOTAR 5/6, which has been in the works for near a decade. Save this. Come back to it. Take your time working through it. I'm giving you everything, anon!

We have two parts at play: ACOTAR and the new series, which I have no doubt in my mind is Twilight of the Gods (more on that later) so lets start with facts before we move on to theory.

I am positive Elain's book is next because Sarah's messaging has remained 100% consistent since signing on the ACOTOR spinoffs in 2016. Moving forward from ACOWAR, she wrote ACOFAS as a novella to "bridge the gap" between ACOWAR and the spinoffs, and set up the future of ACOTAR. That was completely true for ACOSF, where everything that was set up has come to pass or been expanded on so far. The introduction of the Blood Rite, Nesta's mental health struggles, Morrigan being assigned to Vallahan, and the continued escalation of Elain's relationship with Azriel and Lucien's with the Band of Exiles. We meet Emerie, we learn more about the struggles of the patriarchy in Illyria, so on and so forth.

Then, we have ACOSF. The first dual POV romance of ACOTAR. This was only the beginning of a long term plan of dual POV romances coming to fruition. Here is youtube video from early on in the process describing the spinoffs as standalones that feature a different romantic pairing each book, but form a backbone when united.

By 2020, after ACOSF was announced, Sarah reiterated again that the new spinoff series features a new couple each book, with their own miniature plot and romance resolving within the overarching story of ACOTAR. Here she also shares that she plans to write a *lot* more than what she is contracted for, and has a ton of different ships to choose from. You can watch that here.

And now we move to 2021, after ACOSF was released, and Sarah confirms she always planned to write a book about Elain here.

This is actually a great interview and one of my favorites. You can watch the whole thing here. Eva Chen is a real one.

As far as ACOTAR goes, Sarah has continued to confirm in multiple interviews that her initial plans regarding the spinoffs have not changed, and still largely follow that initial outline she pitched back in 2016. And it was always going to be Nesta and Elain.

I will reiterate, ACOTAR is its own series with its own structure. Every ACOTAR book will feature a new couple with their own romance story. ACOTAR will continue to be exclusively a romance series from here on out. A lot of people speculate a lot of things on the future of ACOTAR. That we'll get a big finale with a multi-pov, that the story will end after Koschei, that we'll have a Kingdom of Ash style book. None of this is true. Sarah is going to keep contracting ACOTAR books until she runs out of couples. If you think this sounds odd, keep in mind that SJM herself is a fan of and grew up on Nalini Singh, who has series that started in 2006/2009 and are still going, featuring a new couple each book:

So, this is not strange behavior for the genre, and I think SJM is excited to have an ongoing fantasy romance series like this. And I'm excited for us to read it!

So, no KoA multi-pov finale. No second Nesta book. ACOTAR is an ongoing romance series with an "unspecified number of books remaining."

Okay! Now let's talk about Nesta! Bone Carver voice: Nestaaaaaaa

I'm going to do something just for you, Anon. And whoever catches this in the next week or so. I left titkok as far as booktok/content making and whatnot and privatized all my videos with my face on them (for a variety of reasons. Some fandom/bullying related, some not) but I did a massive breakdown of SJM's publishing contracts and all of the lore for Twilight of the Gods build up. I did get some of my screenshots from other Tumblr accounts, and linked my sources in the caption! Give this a watch (it's long) and pop back over.

Obviously if you spend some time in the comments section, mostly the questions at large are regarding timeline. I'm happy to chat theory, but focusing on Nesta, it is incredibly important and specific that she had her role in CC3 and that she connected The Valkyrie to Midgard, aka Middle Earth in Norse mythology which is where Twilight of the Gods, aka Ragnarok takes place. We have seen Midgard, Hel, and I have no doubt we will see Asgard.

But take a look at the difference between Nesta and Azriel's journey in CC3. Nesta had a deep emotional arc with Bryce. She developed trust and a relationship with her that Azriel didn't. In the HoFaS bonus chapter, Nesta forged a bond and a relationship with Bryce's mom, Ember. Nesta and Bryce's development is what is important here: Nesta has now created the bridge between the Valkyrie and Midgard. Valkyrie are the chosen fighters of Odin in Twilight of the Gods- the war at Ragnarok.

Twilight of the Gods is coming, fam. Crescent City three also revealed that The Mother, Urd, and Wyrd are all the same entity. The Goddess of all creation and fate. She oversees all worlds, and another important but oft overlooked element in the CC3 crossover is the frequency of the conversations about the Gods:

So yes, Nesta still has a huge arc coming up baby! She is not done. No one is done. But the Valkyrie are gearing up to play a major role in TotG, not the next ACOTAR. I believe this also grounds the continuation of the tension between Nesta and Rhys, and these two powers at odds when it comes to making decisions. Rhys will protect Prythian first. Nesta is building the bridges to other worlds, and is willing to fight alongside them. Rhys has no relationship with Bryce and Midgard. Nesta does. And lets not forget the Pegasi!

CC3 was not about Nesta. It was about Bryce and Nesta. Giving the Starsword back to Nesta is simply because that is who Bryce had a relationship with, and will continue to have a relationship with in the multiverse, not because Nesta is getting another book. Honestly- who else was she supposed to give the sword, Mask, and Truth-Teller back to? Twilight of the Gods will feature characters from all worlds. Sarah confirmed it will be emotional to write because of the old faces we'll see pop up in her Today Show interview here. This interview was thoroughly structured and planned, and released on the same day as HoFaS.

Speaking of the Starsword, let's talk Azriel and his role in CC3. Azriel is now the only person we have seen carry both the Starsword (likely Gwydion from here on out) and Truth-Teller. Light and dark. The power that combined to unleash the magic on Avallen, otherwise known as the Prison/Dusk Court in Prythian. Nesta has her own sword, Ataraxia. We have not seen Nesta touch, wield, or use Gwydion. Only Azriel has.

There is only one other character at home in Prythian who has also wielded and used the full power of one half of that pair of weapons: Elain.

Nesta used Truth-Teller to cut off the kings head, yes, but Elain used Truth-Teller to travel through the shadows across a battlefield with no experience and no training. She held that blade, and it worked to her will, tapping into its magic.

Azriel also learned about the corruption of the Cauldron. This was his primary experience in the crossover- discovering that the Asteri, who force mates and curate bloodlines to create powerful offspring which they then churn through a soul meat grinder for food warped the Cauldron to enact their will. Azriel did not form a relationship with Bryce, or Ember, or form any sort of additional connections to Midgard the way Nesta did. His part of the story revealed the problems at home. His (likely) love interest is the only person who has used his blade there, while Azriel is the only person who has used Gwydion. Bryce notes that Azriel must have some Starborn blood in him. Silene confirms that the Dusk Court can only be nurtured and looked after by Starborn heirs.

So while Nesta's compass in the crossover pointed to Midgard and her developing relationship with Bryce, as well as her clear willingness to work with her, Azriel's compass pointed home. It pointed to his lineage, to the corrupted Cauldron, to being one half of Gwydion and Truth-Teller combining, the Dusk Court. All of which points us to...

Yup. Elain.

If this STILL isn't enough for you, I have made a few additional posts regarding The Glass Coffin (aka Sleeping Beauty, which Bryce plays for Azriel in the HoFaS bonus chapter) and some, but not all of the little Elain coded details in HoFaS. You can find those posts here and here.

I could keep going forever. I can reiterate that there was not one but two ACOSF bonus chapters, and both were about Elain. I can talk about about the fact that SJM always planned to write a book about each sister, and ACOFAS was about- duh- each sister. But this is already so long and full of so many links and resources. The wrap up is this- ACOTAR is now an ongoing dual POV romance series. Until she tells us that is no longer true, it is true. A new couple each book. Nesta and the Valkyrie are key players in Twilight of the Gods. Sarah confirmed she was writing Crescent City and Twilight of the Gods at the same time. The multiverse is happening, and it just takes a little bit of exploration to understand where the characters are likely headed.

I'll end on this note. Azriel and Elain are light and dark. This belongs to them. The bridge of connection between them- Truth-Teller:

Now look at how the combination of the Starsword and Truth-Teller is described in HoFaS, and tell me if it looks familiar to you:

And now alllll together again, fam! Who are the only two characters who have properly wielded and/or tapped into the power of the Starsword and Truth-Teller in Prythian?

Azriel and Elain.

I think that's everything. I hope this comforts you. I genuinely don't ever feel worried or confused. It is all so clear to me how Sarah wove this together, and I think it's absolutely brilliant. Eep! I just get so excited! So take a little bit of my excitement and release the fear. Half of the people making content on this blatantly hate one half of the next book and they willfully ignore that she has had one of the most beautiful, breathtaking, well foreshadowed and woven storylines in the history of SJM's writing. Of course that is only my opinion, but honestly, how could you NOT be impressed and excited?!

I can't wait. I just can't heckin' wait.

If you got through all of this, wow. You're the real MVP.

[kirain]

For the anon who said the Wall of the Faithless isn’t canon to bg3–I was thinking of that post today when I found a book in the House of Hope’s archive that detailed the wall! So beyond a blanket “all forgotten realms lore is canon to the game” statement, the Wall is for sure there too.

Poor Mr. of Waterdeep 🥲

That's right! This was also pointed out by @superanonymousthethird, who posted a pic of the journal when they reblogged my answer to that ask. The Wall of the Faithless is absolutely canon to BG3, unfortunately.

Karlach also speaks several times about the City of Judgement and how she fears it, because she doesn't revere any gods and isn't sure if any of them would welcome her into their domain. She mentions it in the graveyard and after killing Gortash, if you choose that path.

Karlach is just as terrified of dying as Gale is, because the ending probably won't be a happy one. That said, Karlach at least has a better chance of being welcomed into someone's domain, even if she doesn't know it. Gale has no chance because he's a fallen Chosen, abandoned by his goddess.

Now, I am aware that in 2020 the 5E Sword Coast Adventurer's Guide was edited and re-released with all mention of the Wall removed, which means it's now only mentioned in previous editions of D&D. Therefore, technically, when it comes to people's irl campaigns, the existence of the Wall is up to their discretion, but in the case of BG3, the Wall of the Faithless is provably canon, which would make sense since the story for the game was finished before 2020.

This is why Gale, Karlach, and even Shadowheart are so scared. Shadowheart in particular has a deeply gripping comment about why people cling to the gods, and why she converts to Selûne. I'm an atheist myself, but in the Fogotten Realms, gods are incontestably real ... and sadly so are their punishments. This is why Gale is so desperate to either earn Mystra's forgiveness or break free by becoming a god himself.

[birdbrainedboy]

I’m obsessed with this show and fear a hyperfixation anyways here are my thoughts on every character in the show

Edwin Paine: forever my favorite, even back before the show when I read the comics! I think it’s funny that basically every man in the show wants him? I’m intrigued by his character arc throughout the story regarding his sexuality as despite dying in 1916, he seems to have had time to slowly become more accepting of gay people (I’m guessing in part due to Charles, who is pansexual), to the point where there’s only mild internalized homophobia if at all, which just exhibits itself in him denying any possible feelings for Monty. I love how face-value and logical he is while still being a sweetheart

Charles Rowland: he has a pan flag pin on his jacket which confuses me bc can ghosts only wear clothes they would’ve worn when they were alive, or how do ghost clothes work? Because he died in 1989 and I’m near positive he didn’t wear that pin back there. Anyways I do love him but I wonder about some design choices, like the one earring (not sure why it just kinda annoys me). That was more a rant abt his design than his character, which I have nothing notable to say abt since I LOVE HIM he’s so real

Crystal Palace: sometimes she was a bit annoying the way she was trying way too hard to pry into everyone’s lives, but honestly that was just momentary annoyance since nothing could make me hate her. I love how her past was slowly revealed (as someone who already knew it from the comics) and how she came to terms with the person she used to be vs the person she is now. She’s so cool!

David the demon: honestly kind of caught me off guard at first bc the person I’m dating is named David but I actually enjoyed his character. LOVED when Crystal dealt with him in the end. He was very interesting

Niko Sasaki: I love Niko, but I have some problems with her character. First of all, I feel like ditsy anime-loving cutesy Asian girl with dyed hair is a weirdly common trope? But whatever my main issue is that it feels like characters who normalize the fetishization of gay men are so common. Like if Niko had been a guy obsessed with lesbian manga evb would be weirded out, so why is it different? If we ignore all of this tho I absolutely adore her and I’m actually praying she’s in the next season bc she was one of my favorites (esp her relationship w Edwin)

Jenny: She is so hot and cool and funny I’m in love with her

Esther: oh my god words cannot come close to describing how much I love her character. She felt powerless and weak in the past and now she’s become obsessed with making sure nobody has that power over her ever again. She was so fun and I loved her attitude! I’m sure she won’t show up next season, as she was the main antagonist of s1, and while I love her, I kind of hope she doesn’t since I think her arc was finished.

Monty: His personality was like 2020 “soft boy” who acts nice and dumb but is lowkey a manipulator. So obviously this kind of made me like ☠️ bc why is he acting like that… but I still love him to bits because he’s just a crow guys he didn’t ask to be human,, Anyways yeah his personality annoys me but also I love him so much so? It’s confusing. ITS COMPLICATED. I will cry if he’s not in s2

Kingham and Litty: I honestly thought they were annoying but I can’t lie they were so fucking funny. Every time they were on screen I laughed.

Cat King: oh my god. He is so camp. I love him. There’s honestly not much to say he is simply iconic. Love how he’s afraid to be alone so chases after other people, he’s so real AGHH I love him

Night Nurse: Ruth Connell the woman you are… 😍 she reminds me of Muriel from Good Omens, in a way, and I love her! I really hope we get to see more of her in relation to the guy in the fish, and see her get to better understand human emotions and why they choose to cling onto the human world rather than pass on!

[taeswolfie]

𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 : 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑶𝒏𝒆

☽︎𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒇 𝑴𝒐𝒐𝒏☾︎

Ch.2

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

Word count: 9.3k

a/n: I started writing this in November of 2020 on Wattpad and finished a few years later, and although it's kind of old now it's still one of my favorite things I have written so far. I wanted to give it a bit of new life here on Tumblr. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I had writing it. There were about 90 chapters so wish me luck on this massive, and probably slow, migration 😅

A teenage girl sits cross legged in the middle of her bed dressed in pajamas. A book is held up in front of her. The cover of black leather has no title but the Triple Moon is embossed vertically in the middle, a moonstone sewn into the middle moon. Her head moves slightly as she reads and she mutters the words under her breath. She suddenly looks towards her window, a flash of purple is reflected when her eyes meet themselves in the glass before she blinks and they're back to their original color. She tilts her head a bit as if listening for something and squints her eyes before she gets up. The book closes and plops down onto the covers in front of her as she gets up, her hands unfolding from their place in her lap.

She pauses a few steps from her window with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. She takes the last few steps and quickly pulls open the window, sticking her head out and startling the brunette boy currently scaling the trellis on the side of the house. "What are you doing, Stiles?" She asked once he regained his hold on the structure.

"God! Y/n! You nearly scared me to death! How did you know I was here?" He asked, slightly out of breath from the combination of climbing the side of her house and getting a scare.

She shrugged a shoulder. "I heard you."

"How?! I was super careful not to make a sound. Also why weren't you answering your phone?"

"Not careful enough, apparently. And I was busy reading. I didn't want to be disturbed. Now, again, what are you doing, Stiles?"

"I saw my dad leave like 40 minutes ago. Dispatch called, everyone from the Beacon Department and even State Police were called in because two joggers found a body in the woods."

"No."

"No? What do you mean no?"

"I mean no. School starts tomorrow and I don't want to spend my last night of summer traipsing through the woods looking for a body."

"Half body." He corrected.

"Let me rephrase. I don't want to spend my last night of summer traipsing through the woods looking for a half body. Go drag Scott out of bed and make him go with you."

"Uh, he already did." Scott's voice drifted up to the two and Y/n looked past Stiles to see Scott giving her a sheepish grin.

She gave him an unimpressed look before leveling it on Stiles. "There's no way I'm gonna get you to leave me alone tonight, is there?"

"Nope." He grinned at her when she rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Fine." She pulled her head back in her room and stalked over to her closet.

"What are you doing?" She glanced behind her to see Stiles now haphazardly hanging onto her window sill.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm putting on some clothes. I don't want to go out, but I don't want to go without proper clothing more. Now, you can either watch me change or get off my window, but choose wisely."

He flushed a bit as he started to stammer. "Uh-um- I'm uh- I'm gonna go. Down there. With Scott."

"Good choice." She squinted her eyes at him with a sarcastic smile. Once he was out of sight and on the ground with a quiet 'thump' she shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Idiot." She mumbled under her breath but still couldn't help the small smile that crept onto her lips. She hurried and got dressed in a sweater and some pants before climbing onto her window sill and down the trellis, leaving her window ajar for when she came back. When she was on solid ground she made her way to the blue Jeep that she has come to associate as purely Stiles.

Stiles comes to a stop in front of a sign labeled Beacon Hills Preserve No Entry After Dark. All three teens hop out of the Jeep, Stiles holds a flashlight. "We're seriously doing this?" Scott asked with worry in his tone.

"You're the one who's always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town." Stiles shot back with a pat on Scott's shoulder when he passed. Y/n comes up next to Scott with a sigh.

"He's kinda got you there, Scotty." She also pats his shoulder before reluctantly following behind the overly excited boy.

"I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow." Scott also reluctantly followed.

"Right, 'cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort." Stiles retorted from five steps ahead of them.

"Hey, be nice Stilinski. Scott's trying to play this year."

"I will play this year." Scott corrected. "In fact, I'm making first line."

"Hey, that's the spirit." Y/n smiled at Scott with a nudge that he returned with a smile of his own.

"Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one." Stiles said.

"Like chasing after Lydia Martin." Y/n mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?" Stiles couldn't hear her over the crunching of leaves and Scott's scoff.

"I said 'how much can these woods darken?'' Stiles threw a questioning glance over his shoulder at Y/n's innocent expression. He then looked at Scott, but the shaggy haired boy just shrugged. Stiles shook his head and continued looking forward as Y/n smirked to herself.

"Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?" Scott asked.

Stiles slowed in his walking for a moment. "Huh! I didn't even think about that." He chuckled.

"I've got a question too." Y/n said with a finger raised slightly in the air. "What if whoever killed this person is still out here?"

"Also something I didn't think about."

"Of course you didn't." Y/n shook her head.

"It's... comforting to know you've planned this out with your usual attention to detail." Scott joked as they climbed up a steep incline making him start to breathe a bit harder.

"I know."

"Maybe the severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight, huh?" Scott leaned against a tree and pulled out his inhaler. Y/n stopped with him as Stiles kept going.

"You good, Scott?" She asked, concerned.

He simply nodded as he shook the inhaler and waved her on. She took a few steps still looking at him before facing forward as he continued to walk with her. Stiles stumbles to the ground to lay on his stomach, Y/n following more gracefully with Scott falling beside her like Stiles had. Scott wheezes as they watch several flashlight beams scan the area, the figures holding them looking for any sign of the other half of the body.

"Okay, come on!" Stiles suddenly jumps up and runs in the direction of the other people.

"Stiles!" Scott calls but he doesn't answer.

Y/n groans. "I'll go after him." Y/n also jumps up and starts running after him.

Scott takes a puff of his inhaler before he also follows. "Wait up!" The three run through the woods, Y/n whisper yelling at Stiles at how much of an idiot he's being. "Stiles!" Scott also tries to whisper yell at the boy.

"Stiles, stop!" Y/n's forceful tone finally gets him to slow to a walk, looking behind him for his friends. Y/n catches up just as a dog barks at him, scaring him into falling back, which happened to be right into Y/n, sending both teens to the ground.

"Hold it right there!" An officer yells, the dog still barking as lights are shined on the two.

"Hang on, hang on!" Another voice calls over the ruckus. "This little delinquent belongs to me."

"Get off me, you oaf! You're crushing my ribs." Y/n groans with effort as she pushes Stiles off while he tries desperately to get up.

"Dad, how are you doing?" Stiles greets his father once he manages to stop crushing his friend.

"Y/n." Noah Stilinski greets.

"Hello Sheriff." She gives an innocent smile as she stands.

"Does he know you're out here?" Y/n didn't need him to name anyone to know who he was talking about.

"Would you believe me if I said yes?" He just looked at her and she looked away. "Yeah, thought not."

"So, do you, uh, listen in to all of my phone calls?" He then asks Stiles.

"No, heh." Stiles tries to deny, but then, "Well, not the boring ones." Y/n shakes her head.

"Now, where's your usual partner in crime?"

"Who, Scott?"

"No, the Gingerbread Man. Yes, he means Scott!" Y/n sasses before she gives the Sheriff a polite smile. "Scott's not with us, right now. He said he wanted to get a good night's rest for tomorrow's practice and he didn't want to come." What she said wasn't a lie, Scott wasn't with them because he trailed behind and he had said those words earlier.

Stiles nodded in agreement with what she had said. "It's just us. In the woods. Alone."

She gave him a short jab in the side with her elbow and a look that said shut up. Noah raises his flashlight and scans the surrounding trees. "Scott, you out there? Scott?" He calls but gets no answer. He sighs and lowers the light. "Well, young man, I'm gonna walk you back to your car. And you and I are gonna have a conversation about something called invasion of privacy." He grabs the scruff of Stiles' clothes and pulls him along, glancing back at Y/n. "And you, missy, I'm gonna give you a ride back home."

"Yes, sir. That sounds great actually." She takes one more look out at the trees with a small frown before following the Stilinski's.

After Noah made sure Stiles got in his car and drove away, he led Y/n to his car where she got in the front seat. Thunder crashes in the distance as she stares out of the front window, a worried look on her face. Rain gently patters against the road. She fidgets in her seat, an uneasy feeling in her gut. Her head whips towards the passenger window as she faintly hears a distant howl, the feeling getting just a bit worse.

When Noah pulls in front of Y/n's home she winces at the sight of Alan Deaton on the porch and sighs. "Thanks for the ride, Sheriff." Y/n glumly says as she unbuckles.

"No problem." He waves goodbye when she gets out and she watches him leave, prolonging the time before she has to face her guardian.

"Y/n." He says in his normal cool tone.

She slowly turns to look at him. "Yes, Alan?"

"Why did I get a call saying that you were wandering around in the woods in the middle of the night?"

"Because I was." She responded plainly.

"Why?"

"Stiles, being Stiles, listened in on the Sheriff's phone call and he heard about a dead body being found, but it was only half, and there was a search party for the other half and Stiles wanted to be the one to find it. He dragged Scott out too, and what kind of a best friend would I be if I had let them go by themselves? But now what kind of best friend am I that I left one of them in the woods after we were caught." She frowned.

"Who?"

"Scott. The Sheriff didn't see him because he hid behind a tree."

"And you know that how?"

"I heard him."

"I see." He nods in understanding. "I'm sure he'll be fine. Scott's a strong boy, he'll be okay. Come on, let's get inside. School starts tomorrow."

"Yeah." She mumbled. He held his arms out and she obliged by hugging him. He pulls away but still keeps an arm over her shoulder. Just before she steps inside she looks over her shoulder, back to the woods.

"What's wrong?"

She shakes her head a bit, a frown still tugging at her lips. "I don't know. Just a feeling." She sighs as she turns away and follows him into the house.

…

Y/n rides into the parking lot of Beacon Hills High School on her bike. She balances on one foot as she smoothly glides up to the bike rack, using her other foot as a brake once she's close enough. She notices Scott's bike and Jackson's Porsche as she's fixing up her bike lock. "Oh, yay, I'm parked next to him." She mutters sarcastically. She turns to face the school, fixing her bag on her shoulder, and takes a deep breath. "First day back to school. What a joy." With one more breath she makes her way to the front doors. She scans the crowd and spots Scott and Stiles, the former holding up his shirt to expose his side. Y/n squints and catches a red splotch on the gauze he has taped there before he puts it down and the two continue walking. She picks up her pace and jogs to the two, catching up when they stop again and she can clearly hear what they're saying.

"All right, well, if you don't believe me about the wolf, then you're definitely not gonna believe me about when I tell you I found the body." Scott's tone lowered with the last few words he spoke.

"What's this about a wolf?" Y/n asked once she stood next to the two, her curiosity piqued.

"Did you not just hear him about the body? Are you kidding me?" Stiles directed the last at Scott.

"No, I wish. I'm gonna have nightmares for a month."

"Oh, God, that is freakin' awesome."

"Yeah, awesome. You saw a wolf?" Y/n looked at Scott in question.

"No, but I heard one howling."

Y/n's brow furrowed a bit in worry but her thoughts are cut off by Stiles groaning out a sigh. "I already said that that was impossible. There are no wolves in California."

"You'd be surprised." She pointed out.

"Look, enough about the wolves. How are you focusing on that more than Scott found the body? I mean, this is seriously gonna be the best thing that's happened to this town since..." He trailed off as he spotted a particular strawberry blonde head. "Since the birth of Lydia Martin. Hey, Lydia... You look..." Lydia passes without a glance at Stiles but a small wave in greeting towards Y/n who returns the gesture. "Like you're gonna ignore me." Stiles sighs and looks at Scott. "You're the cause of this, you know?"

"Uh-huh." Scott 'agrees' with a smile.

"Draggin' me down to your nerd depths."

"Uh-huh." The three continue walking as the bell rings.

"I'm a nerd by association. I've been Scarlet Nerded by you. At least you haven't tarnished Y/n with your nerdy influence. How are you friends with Lydia, by the way? How did you get in there?" He rounds on Y/n.

She scoffs. "There's no 'in' to get to. We just so happen to be very best friends."

"I thought we were your best friends?" Scott points between himself and Stiles.

"You are, Scotty, don't worry." She pats his shoulder. "You're my guy best friends and she's my girl best friend."

"You think you could put in a good word for me so I can be her guy best friend?" Stiles asks with a hopeful tone.

"No." She shoots down immediately, giving a playful coo when he pouts and she lightly pinches his cheek. He bats her hand away with a laugh and the trio continue down the halls.

...

"As you all know, there indeed was a body found in the woods last night." Mr. Curtis informs as he writes on the white board. Scott shares a knowing smile with Y/n and Stiles, the h/c in the seat next to him with Stiles right behind her. "And I am sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened. But I am here to tell you that the police have a suspect in custody," Mr. Curtiss turns to face the class, Scott throws a questioning look at Stiles who shrugs, "which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus which is on your desk outlining this semester."

Y/n picks up the paper to skim it over, barely glancing out the window when she heard the cell ringing outside. She sees a pretty brunette girl on the bench outside that she doesn't recognize yet doesn't really give it another thought. She looks back to her paper, but her eyes are drawn to movement beside her. She glances over and sees Scott looking around before rubbing his ear in confusion. She narrows her eyes at his actions and keeps watching him as his focus is drawn out the window and his eyes slowly sweep across the room until they stop at the door. A moment later the Vice Principal walks in with the brunette girl behind him.

"Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcome." The VP leaves and the girl, Allison, moves to sit in the empty seat behind Scott. Y/n watches as Scott grabs one of his pens and turns to give it to Allison.

A confused look flashes across her face before it lights up with a smile. "Thanks."

"We'll begin with Kafka's Metamorphosis, on page 133." The teacher started speaking again as they looked at each other for a minute before Scott turned around. Y/n raised a brow at the exchange and caught Allison's confused look return. With one more glance at Scott Y/n turns back to her own papers, noting to herself to watch Scott a bit more closely.

...

The bell rings and students flood the halls. Scott fiddles with his locker's lock and glances down the hall spotting Allison. She looks over at him and smiles. He just blinks at her in a slight daze as Y/n comes up behind him. "Hey, Scott."

He turns to her. "Oh, hey, Y/n."

"I was meaning to ask, I saw you had a bandage on your side as I was catching up to you guys? What happened? Are you okay?" She asked in concern and he gave her an easy going smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Stiles doesn't believe me but I think a wolf bit me. It was dark and I couldn't see well but I heard a wolf howl."

"You're sure?"

"Pretty sure."

"Can I see? The bite I mean?"

"Yeah, sure." He glanced around before he lifted his shirt enough for her to see. She carefully pulled the top part of the bandage away and he winced. Quickly, but carefully, she put the bandage back and he let his shirt fall.

"Yeah, that's uh... That's some bite." Stiles came around to Scott's other side at that point and she tuned out their conversation as her mind swam with the new information and worry. She only snapped out of her head when Lydia called her name from down the hall. She was standing next to Allison and waving Y/n over. "I'll see you guys later." She said to the boys before she made her way over to Lydia and the new girl.

"Allison, this is my best friend, Y/n. Y/n, this is Allison." Lydia introduced. 

"Nice to meet you." Y/n held her hand out which Allison took.

"You, too." Allison gives her a kind smile.

Jackson sidles up beside Lydia with an arm thrown around her. "Hey." She greets and gives him a kiss. Jackson spots Y/n and rolls his eyes.

"Y/n." He says in obligatory greeting.

"Jackson." She says boredly. The two proceed to ignore each other as they talk to Allison.

Across the hall Scott and Stiles watch the exchange as another girl stops beside them at the sight of the four. "Can someone tell me how new girl is here all of five minutes, and she's already hanging out with Lydia's clique?" The girl questions the two boys.

"Because she's hot." Stiles answers.

"Does that mean you think Y/n's hot?" Scott smirks at him.

"What?" Stiles looks at him almost offended. "I'm just saying beautiful people herd together."

"You just called Y/n beautiful." Scott's smile got wider as Stiles glared at him.

"Your point is?"

Scott shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing."

"I'm just stating facts. Y/n is obviously pretty hence why she's with Lydia and the new girl."

"I'm not saying anything." Stiles rolled his eyes as Scott just smiled at him and turned to the girl they were talking to. Scott's smile slowly fell as he looked back over at the four. His ears were able to pick up the conversation taking place across the hall.

"So, this weekend, there's a party." Lydia hints to Allison.

"A party?" The brunette questions.

"Yeah, Friday night." Jackson informs. "You should come."

"Uh, I can't. It's Family Night this Friday. Thanks for asking."

"You sure? I mean, everyone's going after the scrimmage. Even Hermit over there is going." Jackson gestured towards Y/n and she gave him a sarcastic laugh with squinted eyes.

"You mean like football?"

"Football's a joke in Beacon."

"The sport here is lacrosse." Y/n informed. "It's like... A big thing."

"We've won the State Championship for the past three years."

"Because of a certain Team Captain." Lydia smiled up at Jackson and fixed a piece of his hair.

"Well, we have practice in a few minutes. That is, if you don't have anywhere else-"

"Well, I was going to-"

"Perfect." Lydia cut Allison off. "You're coming." Lydia grabbed Allison's wrist with one hand and Y/n's with the other and started to pull them both along.

"Is she always like this?" Allison whispered to Y/n.

"You get used to it." Y/n shrugged with an unbothered expression.

...

Lydia leads the trio as they make their way to the stands and sit. Y/n spots Scott and Stiles already geared up and on the field. She gives them a wave when they look over although Y/n notices Scott wasn't looking at her but at the brunette next to her making her smirk to herself. Coach Finstock talks to Scott and Y/n sees him hand Scott the gear for goalie. Oof. That's gonna be rough. She thought as Scott takes position in front of the goal.

"Who is that?" Allison asks.

"On goal?" Y/n clarifies and when Allison nods she smiles. "That's Scott. He's one of my best friends." Y/n looked back at Scott to see him already looking in their direction with a tilted head and her smile dissolved into a slight frown. Coach blows the whistle and Scott grips at his head as if someone was shouting at him, Y/n's frown goes a little deeper. Another player throws the ball and it goes right into Scott's mask making him fall flat on his back. Stiles grimaces and Scott gets back up. He braces himself as another player throws the ball again, but this time he caught it.

He looks at it surprised and smiles. The lined up players all look around each other to see what McCall had done. Stiles sits up and yells, "Yeah!" Scott catches ball after ball and Stiles whoops. Y/n watches with raised brows and a disbelieving scoff.

"He seems like he's pretty good." Allison comments.

"Yeah, very good." Lydia agrees.

"Uh oh." Y/n mutters when she sees Jackson skip the line to take his shot at Scott. The air is tense as everyone watches Jackson run up and hurl the ball at Scott. But to everyone's surprise he swiftly catches it. Stiles jumps up, hooting in joy. Y/n stands with Lydia as the strawberry blonde cheers and Y/n cups her hands over her mouth. "GO SCOTT!"

"THAT'S MY FRIEND!" Stiles yells making Y/n laugh. Lydia screams some more cheers and Jackson glares over at her. When he catches her eye she just gives him a what? look and sits back down.

...

"I don't know what it was." Scott leads the way through the woods and across a small stream as his two friends follow him. "It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball. And it's not the only weird thing. I can... hear stuff I shouldn't be able to hear. Smell things."

"Smell things? Like what?" Stiles questions from behind Scott.

"Like Mint Mojito gum in your pocket. And Y/n smells like flowers."

"I do?" The girl muttered as she pinched her shirt and sniffed it, only smelling her laundry soap and a bit of animal from her time at the Animal Clinic. She then held her wrist up to her nose, focusing on her sense of smell, and there it was. A faint scent of flowers that clung to her skin like a mist. Something she had almost forgotten about because there wasn't anyone who would notice it like her.

The three pause as Stiles rummages through his jacket pockets. "I don't even have any Mint Mojito-" He cuts himself off as he pulls a slightly opened piece of gum from his pocket. Y/n raises a brow as Stiles looks up at Scott who gives him a see? gesture. They continue walking and Stiles shoves the gum back in his pocket. "So all this started with a bite."

"What if it's like an infection, like my body's flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?"

"You know what? I actually think I've heard of this- it's a specific kind of infection."

"Are you serious?" They all stop again, Y/n looking between the two, nervousness flashing through her system as she realizes what Stiles is getting at, albeit jokingly, but this was anything but a joke to her.

"Yeah." Stiles puts his hands on his hips in seriousness. "Yeah, I think it's called Lycanthropy."

"What's that? Is it bad?" Scott worries.

Y/n folded her arms. "He's talking about Werewolfism."

"Yeah! You know, the full moon and the awrooo." Stiles howls. Scott lightly pushes him away and continues walking as Stiles laughs. "Hey, man..." He follows, an unusually quiet Y/n following. "Hey, you're the one who heard a wolf howling."

"Hey, there could be something seriously wrong with me." Scott frets.

"I know! You're a werewolf! Ow!" He rubs his arm from Y/n's sudden attempt to make him shut up. He looks at her in question and she glares at him.

"Don't joke around like that, Stiles." She catches up with Scott. "Ignore him. I'm sure that it's nothing too bad, okay?"

Scott just sighs and Stiles speaks up. "Okay, obviously I'm kidding. But if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, It's 'cause Friday's a full moon." While Scott ignores Stiles, Y/n bites her lip in worry. If it was just a random ordinary wolf, Scott should be fine. But if it wasn't... If it really was what she thinks it was, then things were going to get very complicated very soon.

Scott looks around on the ground but doesn't see anything. "No, I- I could have sworn this was it. I saw the body, the deer came running. I dropped my inhaler." Scott crouches to look through the leaves.

"Maybe the killer moved the body?" Y/n suggests.

"If he did, I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are like 80 bucks." Y/n chuckles a bit but when she feels another presence her head shoots up and she spots a broody looking man with dark hair and a black leather jacket. Stiles notices the man a second later and pats Scott to get his attention. Scott looks back and stands up to face the man.

The man starts walking closer to them at a brisk pace making Y/n take a few steps of her own to where she now stood in front of the boys. Used to her protectiveness neither of them give the action a second thought. "What are you doing here? Huh?" The man asks quickly. "This is private property."

"Sorry, we didn't know." Y/n speaks up for them. "We were just looking for something. You wouldn't have happened to see an inhaler around, would you?" Without another word the man pulls something from his pocket and tosses it towards Scott, but Y/n catches it from the air without looking away from him. She tossed the object back to Scott which he sees as his inhaler. After another moment of Y/n and the stranger staring each other down he turned and walked away. Once she was sure he wasn't coming back she turned to see Stiles gaping towards where he left and Scott frowning.

"All right, well, I've gotta get to work." Scott went to leave only to be stopped by Stiles.

"Guys, that was Derek Hale."

"Hale?" Y/n questioned, the name sounding vaguely familiar to her.

"You remember, right?" He asked Scott. "He's only a few years older than us. This was, like, a few years before you moved here, Y/n. His family burned to death in a fire, like, ten years ago."

"That's awful." Y/n frowned.

"I wonder what he's doing back?" Scott mused.

Stiles scoffs and shrugs his shoulders. "Come on." He started to walk away, Y/n and Scott following after one more look towards where Derek Hale disappeared to.

...

Y/n sat at home that night, curled up in the corner of the couch and worrying at her bottom lip. She stared into space as her mind swirled in a mixed mess. It was only the first day back at school and things are already kind of stressful. She didn't notice the other person in the room until the couch sagged next to her. She turned her head to see Alan giving her a concerned look. "Are you alright?"

"I don't know." She said honestly.

"Well, I don't think the wall will be alright if you keep burning a hole through it." She gave him a weak chuckle as she looked at the wall again. "What's bothering you?"

She sighed and shook her head a bit. "It's hard to explain."

"Do your best."

She was quiet while she tried to get her thoughts in order. "The other night, I heard a howl. It was distant but I know what I heard. And now I find out today, Scott heard it too and he swears a wolf bit him." She looked at him again, concern, worry, and a slight bit of fear written on her face. "He's been acting strange too. He's hearing things only I would normally hear, and he's smelling things like my natural scent of flowers. I think that... I'm scared that..." She sighed in frustration. "My thoughts are so jumbled."

He put a comforting hand on her knee. "Tell me what you feel, then, instead of what you think."

She closes her eyes for a moment and when they open, they glow a slight purple before dimming back to e/c. "I feel like he's been bit by an Alpha. He's turning."

Alan's face turns serious. "Well, if your feeling is correct, and I've never known it to be otherwise, then Scott's going to have a tough time ahead of him."

"Tell me about it." She huffed. "What do I do?"

He was quiet for a moment as he thought of what best to advise. "Just be there for him and help him. If he's really been bitten, he's going to need his friends more than ever."

"What if he or Stiles starts asking questions about what I know? I can't tell them about me." She frowned at the thought. She's never had a reason to reveal what she was and when they learn about the supernatural she'd be lying about it.

"They'll be too preoccupied with Scott's new transformation to wonder about it much. For now, at least, don't worry about it."

"I'll try. Thanks... For helping me." She gave him a small smile and hugged him which he returned. "It's what I'm here for." He patted her back and pulled away. He got up and left her to her thoughts again, but this time they weren't as stormy.

...

"Y/n! Y/n!" The girl looked to the spastic boy who was yelling her name across the lacrosse field as she sat on the stands. She squinted her eyes in confusion watching Stiles run like a bat out of hell and got off the stands so that he wouldn't pile-drive people just to get to her.

"Whoa, whoa!" She cried out when he nearly rammed into her and held tightly to her shoulders. "Calm down there, Speedy. What's wrong?"

"Scott was right." He blurted.

"What? Right about what?"

"Scott was right! About a wolf! There was animal hairs on the body, wolf hairs!"

She opened her mouth to speak, but he rushed off as he spotted Scott, which was probably a good thing because she wasn't even sure what she would say. Her feeling is turning out to be more and more correct as the seconds ticked by. As the game started Y/n could only watch in concern and a slight bit of awe as Scott easily skirted around other players and flipped over three other guys blocking his path to take a quick shot. The team gathered around Scott, praising his score and patting him on the shoulders. Coach called Scott over and she listened in, smiling a bit when he put Scott on first line. Maybe being a werewolf wouldn't be the worst thing in the world for him. Maybe it'll actually be good. Maybe.

But the pit in her stomach told her that maybe it won't be as good as she hopes. She looked over to Stiles to see him with a worried expression. She went over to him and sat next to him. "What's on your mind?" She nudged his shoulder lightly.

"I think- and I know this sounds crazy- but I think I might have been right. That joke I made the other day. I don't think it's much of a joke anymore. I think Scott is actually a werewolf." He looked at her in worry and all she could do was put a comforting arm around his shoulders.

"Whatever is happening here, we'll get through it. I know it." Stiles didn't answer. Just continued watching Scott in worry.

Later that day Y/n pedaled to a stop in front of Stiles' house, Scott doing the same a minute later. "Hey." She greeted.

"Hey. Do you know what Stiles called us for?" He quizzed.

"Nope." She shook her head. Well, she had a pretty good idea what it was. They both made their way into the house and up to Stiles' room where Scott knocked loudly.

The excitable boy opened the door and sighed in relief when he saw it was his friends who smiled at him. "Get in. You gotta see this thing." Stiles closed the door. "I've been up all night reading- websites, books. All this information."

"How much Adderall have you had today?" Scott asked.

"A lot." Y/n and Scott shared a smile at that. "Doesn't matter. Okay, just listen." Stiles urged.

"Oh, is this about the body? Did they find out who did it?" Scott sat his bag on the bed and sat himself down on the edge, Y/n placing herself next to him.

"No, they're still questioning people, even Derek Hale."

"Oh, the guy in the woods that we saw the other day." Scott realized.

"Yeah! Yes. But that's not it, okay?"

"What, then?"

"Remember the joke from the other day?" Stiles scoffed. "Not a joke anymore." When Scott didn't catch on to what he was saying he elaborated. "The wolf. The bite in the woods. I started doing all this reading. Do you even know why a wolf howls?"

"Should I?"

"It's like a signal." Y/n finally spoke up, both boys turning to face her. "A wolf howls to tell its pack where it is." When they both just stared at her she raised her brows at them. "What? I live with a vet and I like animals."

"Right." Stiles agreed. "So if you heard a wolf howling, that means others could have been nearby. Maybe even a whole pack of 'em."

"A whole pack of wolves?" Scott wondered.

"No... Werewolves." Y/n frowned. This had been exactly what she thought this was about. But, while she was nervous, Scott was unbelieving.

"Are you seriously wasting my time with this?" Scott got up and started to grab his bag. "You know I'm picking up Allison in an hour."

"Scott, maybe you should listen to him."

"Not you, too." Scott looked at Y/n, slightly aggravated.

"He's got a point. I mean, Scott, we saw you on the field today. What you did wasn't just amazing, it was practically miraculous."

"Exactly!" Stiles pointed at her excitedly.

"Yeah, so I made a good shot." Scott brushed it off.

"No, you made an incredible shot, I mean..." Stiles grabbed Scott's bag and put it back on the bed. "The way you moved, your speed, your reflexes. People can't just suddenly do that overnight. And- and there's the vision and the senses, and don't even think I don't notice that you don't need your inhaler anymore."

"Okay!" Scott interrupted. "Dude, I can't think about this now. We'll talk tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?! What? No! The full moon's tonight. Don't you get it?"

"What are you trying to do?" The tension in the room rises and Y/n stands, feeling the spiking emotions. The first moon is sometimes the worst for newer wolves. "I-I just made first line. I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me, and everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?"

"He's not trying to ruin anything, Scott. He's trying to help you."

"You're cursed, Scott. You know, and it's not just the moon that will cause you to physically change. It also just so happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak."

"Bloodlust?"

"It's like an uncontrollable urge to maim and kill." Y/n provided the info again.

"I'm already starting to feel an urge to kill, Y/n." Scott said irritably.

"I'm sure you are." Y/n muttered under her breath.

"You gotta hear this." Stiles continued to rant. He grabbed a book and searched for what he wanted from it. "'The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse.' All right? I haven't seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You gotta cancel this date. I'm calling her right now." He moved around Scott to his bag and rummaged around for Scott's phone.

"Wait, Stiles. You shouldn't-" Y/n tried to warn but she was cut off by Scott.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm canceling the date." Stiles had finally retrieved the device.

"No, give it to me!" Y/n felt heat flush her body as she felt Scott's anger reach a crescendo making him grab Stiles and shove him against the wall, fist raised and ready to strike.

"Scott, stop!" Y/n yelled forcefully. Scott's fist shook and he yelled as he swiped at Stiles' desk chair making it clatter to the floor.

Scott panted heavily as he looked between Y/n and Stiles. The air was thick as Scott realized what he was going to do. "I'm sorry." No one spoke. "I-I gotta go get ready for that party." He, more calmly, got his bag from the bed and went to the door, pausing to look at his friends again. "I'm sorry." And then he left, closing the door behind him.

Y/n let out a breath to calm herself as Stiles leaned his head back onto the wall and she looked over at him. "Are you okay?" She asked. He didn't answer but nodded his head a bit. Even with his assurance she wanted to assure herself so she went over to him and pulled him into a hug, which he gladly reciprocated. The two teens stood in silence for a moment before he pulled away with a sigh. She raised her brows in question and he nodded at her again.

"I'm good. Thanks." He gave her a small, appreciative smile.

"Anytime." He looked at his fallen chair and went over to it. He crouched down and picked it up, sitting it back on its wheels, but paused in his movements. He looked over his shoulder at Y/n with furrowed brows and moved for her to see. She frowned when she saw the three slash marks that scarred the chair from Scott's hit.

...

Y/n sat in her room and bounced her leg anxiously. The party was soon and she didn't want to go, she wasn't much of a party person unless she was in the mood for it, but tonight was the full moon and so she had to. She had to watch out for Scott. The first change is often the hardest and it'll be no different for him.

She jumped slightly when she heard a honk from outside. She looked out her window and smiled when she spotted the blue Jeep, giving Stiles a wave when he spotted her. She took one more glance in the mirror and flattened out any wrinkles in her clothes before she went downstairs. She spotted Alan on her way and stopped in front of him. "How do I look?" She asked.

He twirled a finger and she obliged by turning for him. When she faced him again he smiled. "Stunning as always." He finally said.

She rolled her eyes but still smiled. "You always say that."

"Because it's always true." He was silent for a moment, a tender look in his eyes. She felt a nostalgic feeling from him as he looked at her but also at something else, something not quite in the same space as them. "You look just like her."

A sad smile graced her features as she looked down and remembered her face. It's been a long time since she last saw her mother in person. Yeah, she has pictures, but it's not quite the same. The camera doesn't quite catch the proud gleam in M/n's eyes when Y/n showed off her growing skills. All she has is the memory that she desperately holds onto. And that's enough for now until she can see her again, one day in the future.

She looked back up at Alan and gave him a sudden hug. He huffed a laugh in amusement but hugged her back. "Thank you." Her voice was soft but he still heard her. He just squeezed her a bit tighter before they both pulled away. "Okay. I should go now. Stiles is waiting."

"Have fun. And be careful." He warned gently.

"I will." She gave him one more smile before she turned and rushed out the door and hopped into the Jeep. "Thanks for giving me a ride."

"No problem. You look really good, by the way." Stiles complimented.

"You don't look so bad yourself." They smiled and he started to drive to the party.

Music pounded through the house as teens danced together, several of them holding red or blue cups. Stiles and Y/n stood in the middle of moving bodies and looked around. "I don't see Scott." Stiles yelled over the noise and looked at her.

She took one more glance around. "He's probably not here yet. Stay in here. I'll keep an eye out for him outside."

"Sounds good." With that Y/n made her way to the backyard where more people were having a good time together. She looked around for her friend, but spotted someone unexpected. Her eyes narrowed as she made her way to the mysterious Hale, his eyes already watching her cautiously.

"I know what you are." She said as soon as she was close enough and folded her arms. "All I wanna know is, are you an Alpha?"

"No, I'm not."

"Show me." He rolled his eyes before they flashed a brilliant blue. She frowned at the color but decided to ignore it for now. "Okay. Then what do you want with Scott?"

"I'm just looking out for him. There are Hunters here."

A rush of fear coursed through her and she nearly stopped breathing. "What?" It came out a little more breathless than she intended, but wouldn't you be breathless too if you were presented with one of your biggest fears?

He didn't say anything else as his eyes were drawn behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see Scott had arrived with Allison. Scott spotted them, looking between his friend and the stranger as a dog started barking. Derek looked behind him at the dog and then back at Scott, Y/n giving the canine creature a glance. Scott kept staring until Allison had gotten his attention. Derek took this chance to leave. Y/n gave the moon a nervous glance before returning to the party. She wandered aimlessly until a pair of familiar hands grabbed her and she found she was inside the house again. She looked up to see Stiles giving her a worried look.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

She opened her mouth to say something, but slowly shut it realizing she didn't really have anything to say. So she just settled with, "Yeah, I'm fine." A sudden pull in her gut told her that something was happening and that that something was Scott. "But I don't think Scott is." Not even a moment after she said that Scott had started to practically stumble into the house, sweat on his brow and breathing heavily.

"Yo, Scott, you good?" Stiles asked as he got closer.

"Are you okay?" Another girl asked yet he just bypassed everyone and made his way to his car, speeding off as fast as he could. He was gone by the time Y/n and Stiles made it outside and they just barely caught Allison getting into Derek's car and driving off.

Y/n huffed in frustration and grabbed Stiles' wrist. "Come on." She dragged him to his Jeep and he drove them to Scott's house. Melissa wasn't home as the two bounded up the steps and to Scott's door. That was probably for the best. She tried to open the door and found it was locked so she pounded on it instead.

"Go away." She heard his meak reply.

"Scott, it's us." Movement from the other side and the door opened just a crack. They tried to open it further but Scott wouldn't let them. "Let us in, Scott. We can help."

"No! Listen, you gotta find Allison."

"She's fine, all right?" Stiles assured. "We saw her get a ride from the party. She's- she's totally fine."

"No, I think I know who it is."

"You just let us in. We can try-"

"It's Derek. Derek Hale is the werewolf. He's the one that bit me. He's the one that killed the girl in the woods."

"Wait, no." Y/n tried to correct. "No, Scott, he didn't-" She was cut off.

"Scott.. Derek's the one who drove Allison from the party."

"Oh, shit." Y/n felt Scott's mood shift a second before the door slammed on them and was locked again.

Stiles banged on the door. "Scott!" Stiles kept trying the door as Y/n heard a thump. Her breath hitched when she heard a roar and she pushed Stiles from the door and out of the house. "It's too late. Just check on Allison. I'll try and follow Scott."

"Wait, what?! You can't go out there by yourself! You could get hurt! Whoa!" He nearly fell as Y/n practically shoved him into the Jeep.

"Don't worry, I can handle myself. Just go." She didn't give him anymore time to argue as she started sprinting towards the woods. There wasn't time to track him so she just went in the general direction she had heard him run for a bit before she resorted to getting some help. She stopped for a minute and closed her eyes. When she opened them they blazed with a violet glow and she looked around at the few people now standing around there. "Have you seen a boy run through here?" She got a few nods. "Please, show me which way he went." One by one the figures pointed and she continued running, now following the dead's guidance.

She felt them before she saw them, the wolves and the Hunters. Her eyes returned to e/c as she saw a flash of light and heard Scott's scream of pain. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw three Hunters there. Like a truck hitting her, memories flashed through her head. Running through the woods. She was crying and she heard her mother scream. "Y/n! Run, just run!"

She was snapped out of her flashback when she heard, who she assumed, the lead Hunter speak. "Take him." That's when she spotted Scott, shifted and pinned to a tree by an arrow through his forearm. Suddenly one of the other Hunters was yanked back and she caught a glimpse of Derek. A rush of adrenaline urged her forward and to Scott where she broke the arrow and pulled him away as Derek threw the second Hunter before following them.

The three ran through the woods until Scott collapsed to the ground against a tree, panting. When he turned around and sat with his back on the tree he was back to normal. Y/n dropped to her knees taking deep breaths, her hands gripping onto any fabric they could find to stop from shaking. Derek looked around to make sure they got away for now. "Who were they?" Scott asked.

"Hunters." Derek answered. "The kind that have been hunting us for centuries."

"Us? You mean you! You did this to me!" Scott jumped up from the ground and shouted angrily.

"Is it really so bad, Scott? That you can see better... Hear more clearly, move faster than any human could ever hope? You've been given something most people would kill for. The Bite is a gift."

"He should have had the choice to receive it." Y/n spoke up, finally finding her voice again. She shakily stood up, clenching her hands to stand stronger. "It should have been his decision."

"There's nothing to be done about that now. He has it."

"I don't want it." Scott said.

"You will. And you're gonna need me if you want to learn how to control it." Derek bent over and placed his hand on Scott's shoulder. "So you and me, Scott... We're brothers now." Derek walked away, leaving the teens by themselves. Scott gripped his injured arm and leaned his head back.

Y/n looked at him and his arm. She carefully made her way to his right so she could see it better. "Can I see?" She asked. He looked up at her like he was just realizing she was there but nodded and moved his hand. She gently took his arm and inspected the wound. It wasn't too bad, she could easily heal it. But the problem was healing it would raise more questions than she was willing to answer so soon. So instead she tore off a strip of her clothes, not really minding since she could always fix it later. She tied the fabric around his arm and he hissed at the contact. "Sorry." She pulled her hands away when she was done and looked up at him. "That should do for now. It might take a while, but you'll heal."

"Thank you." She gave him a small smile and a nod. She looked around with a sigh and stood up, holding a hand out to him.

"Come on. It's a ways before we get back home. Better start walking now." He took her hand, she helped him stand and they both started to trek through the woods.

...

By the time the sun was up Y/n and Scott were going down the side of the road, Scott still babying his injured arm. The sound of a car coming drew her attention and she looked over her shoulder, smiling in relief when she saw the most beautiful blue Jeep she had ever seen. She tugged on Scott's good arm to get him to turn as Stiles pulled to a stop next to them. Scott got into the front and Y/n happily hopped in the back, tossing a spare blanket at Scott before curling herself up in one and sprawling in the back.

"You know what actually worries me the most?" Scott asked after a while.

"If you say Allison, I'm gonna punch you in the head." Stiles responded.

"Leave the boy alone, Stilinski." Y/n mumbled tiredly from the back.

"She probably hates me now." Scott practically lamented.

"Ugh." Stiles sighed. "I doubt that. But you might want to come up with a pretty amazing apology. Or, you know, you could just... Tell her the truth and... Revel in the awesomeness of the fact that you're a frickin' werewolf." Scott gave him a look and Stiles backpedaled. "Okay, bad idea. Hey, we'll get through this." Stiles patted his arm. "Come on, if I have to, I'll chain you up myself on full moon nights and feed you live mice. I had a boa once. I could do it."

"I'm pretty sure l could get some puppy chow from the Clinic." Y/n offered with a sleepy smile. Scott scoffed at them with a smile and they continued their drive in silence.

After Stiles dropped Y/n off at home a few hours before school she closed the door behind her and just stood there for what felt like hours but was only a few minutes. Her eyes were glued to the floor, her mind filled with white noise. Alan had been waiting for her to get home and when she didn't come through the living room a bit after the door closed he decided to go to her. When he spotted her her expression looked almost exactly like it had years ago when she was a terrified little girl in front of his door, eyes watery with shadows of the past flickering in the e/c depths. This worried him because she wasn't one to be scared so easily. Something had to have happened that truly shook her.

She didn't seem to notice his presence, even when he was stood right in front of her. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders as if he was handling a scared animal, and by all rights, he was. Her eyes flicked up to his and she just stared at him for a moment. Then it seemed like the night's events finally caught up to her as her breath hitched and tears spilled down her cheeks.

She practically fell into him and he held her up, not asking any questions because right now, all she needed was to be comforted. He would get answers later when she calmed down and was finally able to tell him what happened without choking up. It was moments like those she was thankful that she had found Alan and had been taken in by him and she would always be grateful for it.

Ch.2

[yandere-daydreams]

i voted for kamala and i get why you do it but i hope you can get yourself to stop checking the polls. you and some other friends of mine are refreshing and god. several states will not be finished counting until Wednesday. Some are accepting mail in ballots from the nineteenth. it could be a very long time before this is decided. do not do this to yourself. find ANY distraction i beg.

i went through this in 2016, and it was just fucking torture. in 2020 i cast my ballot, mentally checked out, and somehow biden won. this year i was so good about not looking and when i did i got a full on adrenaline spike. the best you can do is vote and then check out completely, but i know that's so much easier said than done. best wishes <3

i know but T-T god it's so hard. i think i got the doomspiral out of my system and have fully let my phone die with no plans to recharge it until tomorrow morning, and will be writing fluff compulsively until my laptop dies too or i pass out from exhaustion. i know neither of those sound like healthy options but it's truly either that or Eating A Block of Wood, so we're coping as best we can.

and thanks so genuinely for taking the time to write this out T-T no matter how the election goes, i'll be posting something very hopeful and very mature as soon as it's over, but for now, the panic is only somewhat suppressible i fear. it's so incredibly good to have people like you to keep us sane as a community, in the meantime.

[onebizarrekai]

Fic Author Interview

I've been tagged by @unmaskedcardinal! been a while since I talked about any of this stuff, particularly as a very inconsistent fic poster haha

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

the visible number linked to my account is currently 60, no idea if this is counting the bizarre saga from my archive account or not. technically I've posted more, but they aren't part of that number.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

567,314.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

ibvs season 1 & season 2 are (thankfully) the top two on my account, considering they're… well. ibvs.

number 3 is formal humiliation, a utmv fic back in 2019 where I wrote 3 oneshots all with different pairs surrounding the same idea. it's uh, it's something.

4 is behave, a saiouma despair disease fic I wrote sort of ironically in 2020. I did not realize this weird oneshot would be the thing that jumpstarted my kage obsession.

5, for some reason, is glow, a ds fic I wrote in 2019. I do not know why this is the ds fic with the most kudos. I am just really glad that it's not one of the ones I wrote in 2018.

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

lately I have been trying to respond to more comments, if they're on a recent enough story and I can think of a way to answer.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

most of the fics I've written right now have been Random Spot In Time fics with no articulate ending, but game over is pretty edgy. I think. I've written a similarly edgy ending but it's in an anonymous fic. it occurs to me that edgy doesn't necessarily mean angst, but it can.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

somehow everyone lived happily ever after in the bizarre saga, no f'ing idea how they managed that

7. Do you write crossovers?

I have. I have as comedies. I tend to take a bunch of guys and put them in a new setting that they definitely shouldn't be in. poopenster high is an example of this, but none of that has ever touched the internet and I haven't touched it in like 2 years.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

oh my god like. maybe once? maybe? I don't even think it counted as hate. I think like several years ago some rando complained that season 2 of ibvs was trying too hard to be funny. I barely remember what it actually said, I just remember it being annoying.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

when I was in my v3 phase I wrote some, I think "feelings with smut" describes most of it decently. the nature of the kcu meant it was like, almost all trippy.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I dunno. I hope not. I think I've had people repost stuff without permission.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

probably?? when I was a teen I had people say they wanted to translate my utmv fics, I don't know which ones actually followed through anymore.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

(sigh) yes.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

oh god, I think I honestly just phase around stuff. I don't think I've ever permanently latched onto a pair, it's just that I've had fandoms and I have pairs that I've ended up liking in them and they just sort of stay that way even if stop paying attention to the fandom. I like most ships that happens to fit into my favorite criteria (that being protagonist/morally ambiguous deuteragonist or antagonist). if you asked me what my favorite series is, it would be an easier question. it's zelda. but I don't really have any permanent favorite ships in zelda.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

this is a scary question because I have a number of major wips that I want to get back into once I get back into writing and I refuse to accept that they may not get finished. I don't know. moose hill? for a little while I wanted to see if I could come up with a whole side story, but it is extremely unlikely that will happen. maybe a better example is a continuation of shuichi and kage's blackout adventure, which is pretty low on the priority list for if my brain every gets infected by danganronpa again.

15. What are your writing strengths?

the jokes are very important. I put my heart and soul into them. I hope that people can see my vision when I tell them.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

actually doing the writing getting from point A to point B. I come up with this whole outline and realize there's 2000 words of empty space that needs to happen. and it's like dull shit, too. just plain old events. like look at them, it's the lunching hours again. because lunch is a thing that happens every day. is it redundant to have lunch too many times? it can't possibly! it's the only time they can talk to each other! do I need to pan the camera again because this 3 sentence exchange has dragged on for too long? help

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

makes sense to me. or like, depends on the context. if the POV is a character who can speak the language, the reader should probably get to know what they're saying (think like, subtitled sections of a movie), unless it's really easy to decipher. but if the POV can't understand it, the reader shouldn't necessarily know. it gets more complicated if it takes place in a setting where they should logically be speaking a language that is not english for example. like, if they're in a country where they are not speaking english but the fic is in english. it wouldn't really make sense to insert interjections in their home language because they're not speaking english in the first place. I guess it all depends on what you're trying to convey.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

sonic. does it count. I started writing once I was old enough to type. but I think the first story I ever put online was zelda.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

on occasion I entertain the idea of writing for corpse party, but that's probably not going to happen.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I'm going to not include that one anonymous fic and my pile of unfinished longfic wips that I've been proud of in past years is way too big so… maybe game over?? it's complicated. I have a ton of comedy pieces that I love but they're just… not completed!!

[ feel free to fill this out yourself if you're a fic writer! ]

[imsadstuff]

Loving You Is Red - A Jeon Jungkook Fic -Epilogue

Synopsis: Jeon Jungkook's name was unheard on the Formula 1 paddock till he got a chance to drive a Mercedes car as a reserve driver. His 2020 starts looking brighter as he signs with Ferrari and meets you, his team mates little sister. So many cliched tropes, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn, dating brother's best friend, and most importantly Jeon Jungkook looks smoking hot in a Ferrari! Genre: Fluff, angst, slice of life and humor Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, my mother got hospitalized and I couldn't find the time to finish this. This took a lot of time and energy, so I hope you enjoy reading this. If you do please leave me a like or comment, please don't be a ghost reader! Word Count: 4.6k+ (I reccomend reading on a desktop if possible!) Warnings: Sexual themes, drinking, and just a whole lot of fluff.

Link to my masterlist if you want to check out my other stuff : here

Link to the main fic if you haven't read it yet here

AO3 link incase you prefer that: here

Race 14 Monaco Grand Prix 2029

“Cooking with your mother was disastrous. I couldn’t even chop properly and I’m sure I ruined her batch of kimchi but she was still super kind” you share as Jungkook chuckles in the car beside you.

“I promise you it isn’t as bad as it is in your head” Jungkook tries and reassure you as his hand intertwines with yours.

“And if she doesn’t invite you to make kimchi next year, we’ll know for sure” Jungkook says with a teasing tone and you swat his hand away as you simmer in last week's embarrassment.

“Ignoring the massive disaster, I was with your mother, how was fishing with my dad and Phillip. Phillip sent me a bunch of drunk texts saying how I was all grown up, did you say something weird?” you ask, turning to look at him and Jungkook brushes it off, taking a hold of your hand again.

“We were just talking about us dating for the first time and how young we were, that might have caused that” he says as he drives the car into the parking lot.

“Also, Phillip is a little shit who and told me that I shouldn’t go easy on your father, and to put it simply, I beat your father at chess and now I know where Phillip and you get the competitive gene from” he says as he unbuckles the seatbelt and you look at him all confused.

“What did my father do to you and what makes you think I’m competitive?” you ask with a pointed tone and Jungkook snickers, very sarcastically.

“Your father doesn’t ever want to play any games with me for the sake of our relationship and don’t you remember the Mario Kart incident? Because that remote almost hit me” he complains as he pulls you closer by your hand.

“Oh will you drop the Mario Kart incident, I was eating chips and my hands were all oily and I can’t believe you’re-” Jungkook shuts you up with a soft peck on your lips, followed by a deeper one as he bites your lower lip.

“Baby, I might be competitive but not as much as you.” you whisper against his lips and he chuckles, finally pulling away.

“That is true. Now come on, I gotta win this race!” Jungkook says and you snicker, he’s definitely more competitive.

“So, the first date was great, superb actually. We connected, there was this undeniable chemistry and why are you making that face?” Lando stops talking when he notices the dubious smile on your face.

“Did Lily tell you something else? Did she not have a good time? Oh my god is that why she hasn’t texted me since the last half an hour?” Lando is starting to panic and Jungkook and you share a knowing smile, getting a kick out of your friend's misery.

Lando and Lily hit it off at Jungkook’s last birthday dinner and Lando didn’t hesitate at all before asking her out.

“I just want it put in writing that you and Lily will not bother us with your relationship troubles” you say sternly as the three of you make way to the hospitality area. Lando moved to Ferrari about a year ago, Jungkook and him have been a great team. 

“Relationship, so she said something good, what did Lily say ___?” Lando asks with agitation and Jungkook giggles as his hand intertwines with yours.

“I’m sorry best friend, best friend privilege” you tease and Lando groans, only making Jungkook laugh louder. Lando isn’t the type to doubt himself when it comes to relationships, so this is quite amusing.

“Just chill my man, focus on the race for now” Jungkook says tapping Lando’s hand and he distractedly nods.

“Would you guys be up for brunch at my place tomorrow, a double date?” Lando asks reading something from his phone, probably a text from Lily.

“Sure-” “We can’t actually, we have a thing” Jungkook interrupts you, but you just tag along.

“Yeah we do, let’s plan for some other time” you say and Lando nods understandingly, before he walks off as he’s texting someone.

“We have a thing tomorrow?” you ask as the two of you slip into Jungkook’s driver room. Jungkook’s quiet for a second as he pulls off his polo, ready to slip into his driving suit.

“I was hoping we could spend the day decorating our apartment, we could build the bookshelves that are still in boxes” he says with a small smile as he takes a seat to get rid of his shoes. The two of you moved in together a few months ago but hadn’t gotten to decorating yet.

“Aren’t you such a romantic, but you and I both know I can’t be participating with building stuff, I broke my hand the last time and your very expensive coffee table” you say and Jungkook chuckles, pulling you in his lap.

“Counter offer, you sort the books in our guest room and I build the bookshelf, like the provider I am” he offers with a big smile as his arms circle around your waist.

“Are you sweet talking me into doing chores Jeon?” you ask in an accusing tone and he only laughs louder.

“Maybe,” he says, pecking your lips softly. “What about tonight? Are we doing your winner's dinner?” you ask, smiling against his lips.

“I am infuriated that I can’t eat icing off your tits tonight, I have a work dinner thing” he grumbles and you run your hands down his back.

“We can do winner’s breakfast instead, it’s all about improvising baby” you say in an attempt to lift his spirits.  “saranghae” you whisper looking in his big, brown eyes, you had started picking up a few Korean words here and there, dropping them casually and amusing Jungkook. “I love you” Jungkook says, pulling away to look you in the eyes. He takes a deep breath to really take in the moment.

The race started and ended quickly for Jungkook after reliability issues in lap 10. You sigh as you sit opposite your father, winning is important for Jungkook, it really it, but he’s also gotten great with compartmentalizing it.

“Too bad the car isn’t supporting him” you father says and you nod, watching on the tv’s as the camera’s follow Jungkook walking into the garage.

“At least he’ll get to rest during the summer break” you say, looking forward to the next few weeks of vacation.

“Where are you guys going?” your father asks as he turns to look at you. It wasn’t going to be a vacation per say.

“Jungkook bought a house in Busan, it’s by the ocean, kinda close to the one his family used to live in. We’ll leave Thursday, and just spend a few weeks there, I’ll work, he’ll train, just our usual days but in Busan” Jungkook had proposed this weeks ago, and you immediately agreed.

“Sounds romantic” your father says with a big, bright smile, “Jungkook really makes you happy doesn’t he” he continues talking, this isn’t a question but more like a statement.

“Life is better with him in it” you say as your eyes catch his across the room, immediately, you flash him a comforting smile and he mimics one too as he walks towards you.

“Next race will be better son” your father tells Jungkook as he takes a seat beside you.

“Hopefully we’ll be done with the engine issues” he sighs with frustration and your hand finds his, interlocking them immediately.

“Issues like these are so threatening to my championship chances, so utterly out of my hand” Jungkook voices his concerns and your father listens intently, knowing all about it.

“It so much worse because you can’t fix the issues and it threatens the team morale” your father says and Jungkook nods intensely. Soon, Namjoon comes over too, the three of them talking about the issues in length while you sit there quietly, while Jungkook rubs his thumb across your hand.

“You’re meeting is at around 8 at Blue Bay, and they’ve scheduled a post-race meeting at 6:30” Namjoon reminds Jungkook before he stands up to leave. Your father left earlier too, saying something about having dinner appointments.

“You’ve been awfully quiet” Jungkook says, turning around to look at you.

“I’m kinda tired” you say resting your head against his arm. Jungkook is really tempted to cancel his dinner thing and go home with you, but you talk him out of it.

“I promise I’ll call you if I don’t feel any better after dinner,” you tell him and he grumbles, bringing his arm around your waist.

“Did you get your test results back? I know you’re all weak because of deficiencies, that’s why your hands are always cold” Jungkook sits for a few more minutes, knowing full well the meeting is going to start any moment now.

“The doctor will call me when it’s done, just will you go and do your work. One of us needs to make shit load of money, we have expensive taste” you tease him in attempts to lighten the situation.

“Call me if you need anything-“ he says as he sneaks a quick peck on your lips, “or nothing, just call me” “I will” you reassure him with a soft pat on his cheek.

Jungkook isn’t a fan of talking one on one with reporters, but Namjoon assured him a couple thousand times and somehow made him agree to this dinner.

What he wasn’t expecting was an excited, senior writer for Vogue Korea, Jung Hoseok. They click immediately, talking endlessly about anything and everything under the sun.

“So, this is your ninth year at ferrari and you’ve decided to move to mercedes, what motivated the move?” Hoseok asks and Jungkook takes a big sip of his drink, this question is the reason this interview was set up. The move hasn’t been announced, yet.

“My years at ferrari have made me the champion I am, I won seven world championships with them but I’ve also felt a little stagnant in my career. The move is a way to challenge myself as a driver and also making a profitable move as a driver” Jungkook explains calmly and Hoseok scoffs.

“You’re so amazingly media trained, the answers are given by a PR person aren’t they” the reporter notes and Jungkook laughs out loud.

“My manager, he’s the reason I talk so well” Jungkook answers candidly.

“So, the move is not because of the reliability and strategy issues?” “Those reasons obviously played a part in the decision making. Ferrari has been struggling for the last two years since they changed their engine producer, and I wanted to stick with my team through the pain, but I’m not 20 anymore, I’m almost 30. I told my manager after the first three terrible races last year, ‘We’ll stick with them for a year, give them time to work out the kinks, they deserve patience from me, at least for a year’. But again, the since the start of this year, it hasn’t been that great, so after lengthy discussions with my manager, parents and girlfriend, I decided to make the move” Jungkook answers honestly, and Hoseok is a little stunned by it. They go on to discuss the move to mercedes more, talking about going back to where it all started.

“You don’t talk about your girlfriend much to the press or media, your relationship is extremely private even missing from each other’s social media, is there a reason for that?”

“I’ve kept my relationship with ___ private because the more public I make it, the more people feel like they have a say in the relationship. And I don’t want people’s opinions or thoughts guiding our relationship, and honestly, I can’t bear losing her again”

“This might be an odd question, but how do you think being in love has changed you?” this question sticks with Jungkook for a while, he thinks it over for a good few minutes.

“It has made me a much more, stronger, and confident person. I think being loved by someone you love endlessly is one of the most beautiful thing in the world. She doesn’t love me despite or because, she just loves me for being Jungkook and that’s, um, something that’s really helped me grow and change as a person for the better.” Jungkook sighs the more he thinks about you, he wonders if you are still feeling sick.

“Can I ask you a few more questions about your relationship? You can say no” Hoseok asks and Jungkook strangely encourages him. Most reporters he’s talked to are always looking for a scoop, this is the first time a reporter seems to be taking actual interest in him.  

“Were the two of you set up by your former teammate and now close friend Phillip Lee or did it just happen naturally?”

“Phillip didn’t even know we’d been dating till we broke up” Jungkook says and chuckles, thinking back to the before the first race of 2021, Phillip literally cornered him in his drivers room and asked him what was wrong with him.

“Back in 2020, there weren’t a lot of people my age on the paddock. I really needed a friend, so I reached out to ___. We were friends for a good few months before I realised, I was in love with her. Luckily, she felt the same way” Jungkook has the widest smile as he thinks back, just makes him realise how much time has passed.

“You talk of a break up, did it affect you as a driver?” Hoseok asks as he sits up straight.

“As much as I hate admitting it, it did, I’m human after all. What’s going on in my personal life usually doesn’t affect me as a driver because I’m great at compartmentalizing, but losing someone I love, so abruptly, and especially when I couldn’t do anything to stop to let her slip away, it frustrated me to no end and it affected my performance as a driver, initially at least” Jungkook confesses and the reporter passes him an encouraging smile.

“The two of you have been dating for four years-“ “Five in total” Jungkook corrects him and the two of them chuckle out loud. “The two of you have been dating for five years now, does the future of your relationship affect your future as a driver? To bring up Phillip again, he retired a few months after his first son was born and has been living a quiet life away from F1 since, do you see yourself going down that road too? Putting your relationship and family ahead of anything by your mid-thirties?”

“Just last week I was facetiming Phillip, and he was building a dollhouse, surrounded by his kids. Phillip was obviously, very happy as a f1 driver, but being a father has made him content like never before. I don’t know what it’s going to be like with us, but I know ___ and I will come to a decision that’s best for the two of us”

“Talking of retirement, what do you see yourself filling time with when retired?” Hoseok asks, relaxing a little as he sits back in the chair.

“Sometime during early 2019, I knew I didn’t have a contract for the next year so my sister and I really started thinking of plan b’s outside of racing, and we narrowed down on the option of me going to college and taking the traditional route. I have always wondered, what would life be right now if things didn’t end up the way they did, and even though I was and am ecstatic that I landed in ferrari back then. I would like to take the college route too, see how it shapes my future. I really enjoyed being a student, and I think I’d enjoy going back to it. My girlfriend also thinking that I can sing pretty well and be a musician, but I think love has made her a little delusional” Jungkook jokes about the last part, making the reporter laugh too.

“To tie up the interview, this is your last year with ferrari, last year to win the championship in red. Endings are usually the time one gets reflective, how do you reflect back at the last eight years?”

“I look back and I’m filled with gratitude, so much gratitude. I am sure you’ve seen the video from my first karting championship win, an interviewer asking me what my dream f1 team would be, I remember saying ferrari with that excited high-pitched voice. I truly did want to drive for ferrari but at the same time as I made my way through F3 and F2, the dream started looking unattainable. Just minutes before I sighed the ferrari contract, ___ congratulated me on signing with ferrari, that’s when it really sunk in. I went into my hotel room and cried because of how overwhelmed and excited I was to be achieving a lifelong dream. My time at ferrari has shaped me into the man and driver I am, the ups, downs, agreements and disagreements have taught me so many invaluable lessons. I met the love of my life, got the opportunity to work with some of the most amazing people, won seven world championships, all because of my time at ferrari, and I truly know it in my heart that none of it would have happened if things didn’t go exactly as they did.”

Jungkook made a bet with himself, if he found you asleep on the sofa with your glasses still on and aggressively clutching a book, he’d buy you flowers tomorrow morning. He would have even if he lost the bet. But he audibly awes when he does win the bet, he’s found you like this a few thousand times, but it always endears him somehow. Jungkook quietly takes off your glasses and puts the book away. Crouching down, his eyes level with your tightly shut ones, softly, he grazes your face.

“You really hate falling asleep in our bed all by yourself, don’t you” he says to himself as he pushes some of your hair away from your face. Jungkook doesn’t struggle one bit when he picks you up bridal style, and lays you on the bed. He notices how your hand instinctively reached for his, holding onto him tightly.

Jungkook’s exhausted from the race and the day he’s had, all he wants to do is lay down and get some shut eye, but he sits by the you for a few too long, afraid him moving is going to wake you up. But he does eventually pry his hands out of your grip and jump into the quickest shower of his life.

“When did you get home?” you ask turning to face Jungkook as he dries his hair with a towel.

“20 minutes ago?” he says abandoning the towel and picking up the hair dryer now that you’ve up.

“How did the interview go?” you ask as you sit up to drink some water.

“Surprisingly well, I talked about you. A lot” he says from the dressing table and you give him a quizzical look.

“Why?” you ask as your eyes follow him around the room. Jungkook just smiles and looks away as he shuts the hair dryer off.

“He asked the right questions” Jungkook says massaging his torso as he walks to bed, he takes slides into bed, leaning in for a quick kiss.

“___” he whispers your name against your lips and you sigh, running your hands through his hair.

“I am so looking forward to summer break, just you and I relaxing. Maybe if you feel like it, we take a dip in the ocean or you watch me swim in the ocean. I could do a slutty Baywatch style walk for you-“ you shut Jungkook up by sliding into his lap.

“You ramble when you’re tired” you note with speed as you lean down to kiss him, fiercely, leaving Jungkook a little breathless. In the middle of making out, your hands travel to his chest, hoping to tug off his t-shirt when you notice something.

“Why is your heart beating like crazy” you ask noticing his erratic heartbeat. His lips flatter to a shy smile as realisation dawns on the two of you.

“Oh my god, Jungkook you’re going to make me cry” you say cradling his cheeks and he grumbles pulling you closer.

“I’m sure your heart beats for me like that too” he says reaching for your chest under the t-shirt.

“Babe, you’re just grabbing my tit” you note sarcastically as his finger grazes your hard nipple.

“I can’t help if your heart is behind your tit” he teases you, tugging on your nipple and getting the exact kind of moan from you.

“But really, it does. Even if my words and actions are lacking sometimes, my love for you grows each day” the tender words catch Jungkook a little off guard, not that you aren’t vocal about it, maybe he really needed this kind of confirmation from you today

Soft sunlight is peeking through the curtains, illuminating your face. Turning around to avoid the sunlight, you snuggle even closer to Jungkook, nuzzling in his chest. Jungkook’s been awake for a few minutes now, but he isn’t ready to let go of you yet. His alarm goes off, and he struggles to turn it off, but he does.

“Babe, I really need to go, Namjoon hyung is probably waiting for me downstairs” he grumbles but at the same time doesn’t let go of you. Training is intense as a F1 driver, and Jungkook takes it seriously.

“Kook is summer break” you complain as he detaches himself from you. He chuckles as you continue to whine as he gets dressed as quickly as he can.

“I promise I’ll pick up breakfast on my way,” Jungkook says mid brushing his teeth. Wiping off his face, he changes into a fresh set of clothes, ready to be out the door.

“You stay put, I’ll be back in forty minutes and we’ll resume the activities of last night” Jungkook insinuates as you turn around in bed to face him. There are butterflies in your stomach just thinking about last night, and they only intensify as he holds your jaw tight as he kisses you, tugging on your lip.

Jungkook feels giddy as he makes his way to Namjoon, continuing to stretch as he walks over to his hyung.

“I’m thinking we go by the church today-“ “I think I’m going to propose to ___” Jungkook interrupts him and Namjoon looks at him dumb founded.

“Um, that’s wonderful. The two of you are really-“ “Yeah, I know we’re pretty darn cute, but I’m thinking about proposing today, more accurately by breakfast” Jungkook says very calmly as Jungkook continues to stretch.

“Okay, so, um-“ “I have had the ring for a few months now and I was looking for the perfect time, and I thought I’d do it while we were in Busan but I don’t think I can wait any longer.” Jungkook says, taking a deep breath.

“This morning, I was looking at ___’s left hand, and I just knew, I had to propose right away. It just feels like the right moment” Jungkook explains and the panic is starting to build, panic mixed with a shit ton of excitement.

“I don’t know if we’d be here if I didn’t advise you to break up with ___, but I’m glad we’re here” Namjoon says patting Jungkook’s arm.

“Hyung you gotta stop beating yourself up about that,” “I know, but I am seriously, so happy for you and ___” Namjoon says and Jungkook smiles widely.

“I know, now I gotta get going with breakfast and flowers before ___ wakes up” Jungkook says running a hand through his hair, it’s a nervous tick. “Remember to set up a camera, you’ll want pictures”

Jungkook hears the shower turn off as he plates the breakfast Most people would want a grand proposal, but Jungkook knows you’ll want a private, lowkey one more. He knows you’ll want to cherish this moment, without a crowd and attention around. He fixes the flowers as you step out the washroom, drying your hair as you walk across the room. Jungkook knows you aren’t going to dry your hair right away, no matter how many times he asks you to, he knows you’re going to be walking into the living room any moment now.

“Jungkook, are you back already?” you shout from the room, hearing some noises come from the kitchen.

“Yeah, I cut the run short, come out here” he yells, locating the ring. Before you can reply, your phone rings and you pick it up immediately.

“Um, okay” you reply to the call as Jungkook checks the camera, making sure it’s recording.

“Yeah, 1 pm works for us, we’ll be there” you reply as Jungkook calls out for you again.

“Alright, I’ll see you later” you mutter turns to walk towards the living room, and realising,

Jungkook’s waiting for you, on a knee. You mutter a oh my god as realisation sets in, Jungkook anxiously bites his lip, waiting for you to say something. The silence is starting to eat Jungkook, he’s starting to regret this, you’re going to say yes, right?

“I feel amazing each morning I get to wake up next to you, and a few months back, I decided I wanted a lifetime of it. I was waiting for the right moment; I came so close to asking you after we finished that trek in Australia. It was perfect, the view, the feeling, but I knew you would never forgive me for proposing me while you were all sweaty” he jokes and you giggle, the tears starting to form in your eyes.

“Then I thought, I’d do it in Busan, I even got a planner and everything but something changed this morning. Your hand reached for mine, like it does every morning. I felt your ring finger, and I just knew I couldn’t wait any longer.” Jungkook’s a little teary eyed too as his hand swiftly open the velvet box, revealing the ring, and you gasp, like you weren’t expecting it.

“Will you marry me ___?” Jungkook feels a little breathless he finally asks the question. The smile on your face widens like you’re going to say yes to him, but Jungkook is absolutely shocked by what you say next.

“I’m pregnant. We’re pregnant!” you say and the color completely drains from Jungkook’s face as you pull him up. “What?” his voice is barely audible as he asks you that. “The, um, doctor just called, the tests they ran last week. Turns out I don’t have any deficiencies, turns out I’m pregnant” you retell the events of the phone call and he gasps with shock.

“Oh my god, we’re going to have a fucking baby!” Jungkook shouts with excitement as he pulls you close for a kiss, and a few more.

"um, yeah the doctor asked if we could go in for the first sonogram today afternoon, that's fine right? You don't have anything planned right?" you ask as you pull away from him a little, Jungkook wants to hug you tight, like he wants to let you know just how intensely he's feeling, but he doesn't.

"___, we're having a baby, nothing is more important than you and the baby" he says running a hand through your hair, sensing some tension from you.

The two of you just stand in each other's embrace for a while, letting the moment soak in.

“Wait, um, you didn’t give me an answer” Jungkook asks as his forehead leans against yours.

“Yes, Jungkook. Of course, I want to marry you. I want to be your wife for the rest of my life” you say and he slips on the ring.

People always assume that the fairy-tale ends when the couple gets married. But for the two of you, the fairy tale is always going to be on going. It’s going to keep going through every date night, every quiet morning, every small moment with your child, it’s going to be forever going. The love you two have for each other is forever going.

Tag List: @blancflms @nadzzzblog @kookiewhtaee @jksoftiitii @oiseul @elisaaru @coralmusicblaze @tearyjjeonn @moonchild1 @jungkooksseuphoria @cookysstuff @ohyeahjk @bobakkoo @whoa-jo @kooromiwrld @littlelandalp @marvelover3000

[wosowrites]

Canadian Wonders (Jessie Fleming x Reader)

Warnings: None

A/N: This is so cute my heart melts for jessie

Prompt: Reader is australian, and has never seen a lot of snow before. So Jessie takes her to her home town to meet her family and have a traditional Canadian winter.

When you’ve lived in the land down under for 20 years, and then move to play for a huge club like Chelsea at 21, a lot of things take adjusting. But somehow, it wasn’t the intense training, or the new people, that was the biggest adjustment. It was the weather. You never went to university, not being a big scholar and being raised in a broken home with little money. Instead, you opted to go pro right away. You went pro in 2020, and was relieved to know you would have another aussie at the club with you. You and Sam Kerr had been playing together since you were 15 and she was 18. Soon enough, you got known as a pretty dynamic duo, arriving to winter practices in huge puffy coats, and covered head to toe. You were both strikers, and Emma loved playing you both at the top. In a bit over two years, you both reached your 100th game for Chelsea, having collected between the both of you, 169 goals and 32 assists.

In the middle of 2020, you met Jessie Fleming.

You both started dating in 2021, and 2 years later, you were still going strong. Jessie finally decided she wanted you to meet her family in person, and see her home town. So, in january of 2023, you hoped on a plane to London, Ontario. And you thought London, England was cold…

You stepped out of the small London, Ontario airport, the freezing cold hitting you right away. "I told you to put a coat on baby," Jessie said, laughing at your shocked face. "I didn’t think it would be this cold!" You said, shivering. "I warned you!" Jessie said, opening her long winter coat. You quickly dropped your bag at your feet and abandoned your suitcase, putting your arms around her and feeling the comfort of her body. Jessie closed the big coat around the both of you, kissing the top of your head.

You were taller than her only by an inch, but in your cold state, you were hunched over to stay warm.

"How quickly is Eylsse gonna get here?" You whined. "Just texted her, she’ll be here in- oh there she is." Jessie said.

You reluctantly left the comfort of your girlfriends body, pulling away and seeing Elysse and Tristan driving up in the family subaru. You saw the pure joy in their eyes, the happiness of seeing their sister. You felt happy for Jessie, happy she had that bond with her siblings, but also sad that yours hadn’t reached out to you in years.

Tristan and Elysse stepped out of the car, Elysse running up to Jessie and jumping in her arms. Tristan seemed more reserved, more like Jessie, so you opted for a simple handshake. "It’s nice to meet you in person, you’re taller than you seem on family facetimes." Tristan says. "Don’t lie to me," you laughed, knowing very well you were not tall. "Hey, Elysse!" You said. She hugged you tightly, smiling at you wildly. "I love your nose piercing, oh my god it looks so good on you! I’ve always wanted one but I don’t know if it would suit me." You say to Elysse. "You should get one! I know a really good guy if you want!" Elysse said, smiling at you. "I’ll think about it. Let’s just please get out of the cold." You said, grabbing both yours and Jessie’s luggage and bringing it to the car.

"Did you not tell your aussie girlfriend to wear a coat in Canada?" Elysse laughed, addressing her sister. "I did! She didn’t listen!" Jessie answered, watching as her girlfriend and brother put the luggage in the trunk. "She’s a gentleman," Elysse said, smiling. "You haven’t seen anything yet."

———

Michaele and John Fleming met you with open arms. Literally. The Fleming’s were warm, and inviting, the house smelled like fresh food and slightly of paint. You had all finished eating supper, a meal cooked to perfection by both Jessie’s parents, and were now sitting in the living room.

"I’m so happy you all managed to get time off work and school." Michaele said, pouring you a cup of coffee. "Me too, it’s really nice here." You said, thanking her with a nod for the warm drink. "You haven’t even hiked yet." Jessie told you. "Hiking? It’s too cold to hike." You said, shocked people went outside willingly in this weather. "Is not. In fact, that’s our first activity."

It was known to everyone that Jessie loved order. So when she told you that she had specific activities planned, you weren’t at all suprised.

"Tomorrow morning, 5:00 am, sunrise hike. Then skating on the mountain, then I want to bring you to a really cute coffee shop and show you my elementary school." Jessie said. "5:00 am!" You said, but we’re ignored. "Don’t forget your appointment! You’re getting a nose ring at 5:00 pm tomorrow." Elysse said.

It was true, the youngest Fleming had convinced you to go for it. Worse case scenario, you didn’t like it and let the hole close.

"How could I forget? Just you and me for that one, Els?" You asked her. "Yeah, mum and I are making supper. We’re only here three days." Jessie said.

A few hours later, you went to bed in Jessie’s childhood bedroom. It was surreal being in that are, seeing the trophies, the blue walls, the medals and framed pictures. "What would 14 year old you say if she knew that 24 year old you was lying in this same bed with her girlfriend?" You asked her as she traced patterns on your stomach. "I think she would pass out."

———

As Jessie had said, the next morning she had woken you up at 5:00 am. The whole thing was a blur. You remembered her literally having to dress you, and her telling you to be quiet as you tip toed down the stairs. She had bundled you up in a warm hat, a big winter coat, gloves and a scarf. Your hood was up the second you were out the door. You had fallen asleep in the car, and by the time you were to the mountains, it was almost 6:30.

"You ready baby?" Jessie said, opening the door for you and laughing at your grunt of an answer. You didn’t stay mad for long though, as you saw the still starry winter night peeking through the pine trees. "Oh, Jess. This is beautiful." You told her.

The both of you started your hike. Jessie had her camera with her and was taking pictures of you, and the world surrounding you the whole time you walked up the mountain. The snow was mangeable, due to the trail having been plowed. By the time you arrived at the top of the mountain, the sun was rising. Jessie pulled out a cover from her bag and put it in the snow. You cuddled up next to her, sipping a mocha Jessie had made.

The sky was painted orange, pink, red, yellow and purple, it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. Well, second most beautiful thing. Jessie would always be first. "I’m happy you brought me here." you told her, peering into her eyes. "I’m happy you like it here." She answered. "One day, when we retire from football, I wouldn’t mind having a family with you here." You told her, nervous of her answer.

You didn’t meet her eyes, that is until she used her gloved fingers to lift your chin up. "I want that more than anything." Jessie said, kissing you lovingly.

[what4wh0re]

little Drabble Ig (Peter Maximoff x normal Fem!Reader)

Authors Note: Hii this is like my first time writing again since like 2020-2019, aka my wattpad era (ToT), so I hope it's not totally horrible! There will 100% be million of grammatical issues and mistakes! -Jaz

Summary: You and Peter are friends who just happen to be roommates. After turning 21 you and Peter decided to get an apartment together since you don't like living alone, and he needs to get out of his mothers basement. Months later he gets a Super Nintendo and decides to show you, and teach you how to play..

warnings: kissing, suggestive comments, fluffiest fluff ever, and bad writing.

You had just gotten done with training some students, and had started getting ready to go home. Then you hear someone clear their throat, you turn to see your favorite boy with silver hair, Peter.

You smile, 'what do you want?' He smirks 'babe, you know I always come to see you after your training'

turning from him to grab your bag off the floor, 'I know, but you look like you need to tell me something' standing up to turn him, he then crouched down, signaling you to get on his back.

'get on, we're goin home' you nodded getting on his back, shutting your eyes and holding him tightly. In seconds you're back at your guy's apartment.

He smiles, leaving you on his bed, 'you can lay down on my bed for a minute, imma go change n' get, The Coolest Thing Ever! You'll love it!' He is such a dork, honestly.

Looking around his room, it matches him so well, like those teen boy rooms from the movies; game posters, arcade machines, light grey walls, book shelves loaded with comics, and the messiest closet ever.

Speaking of closet, you decided to grab one of his shirts and change into it, taking off your previous clothes. Leaving you in his shirt and your shorts, he always has a pair of your shorts in his closet, you're always in his room or he's always in yours.

He comes out in his own merch.

You burst out laughing, taking a photo of him on his polaroid, you take the photo out and hold onto it with your life, as he walks over to you.

'sweetheart, can I see that photo?' He says as sweetly as possible. 'no, I love this photo!' you laugh.

'You haven't even seen it yet, it's not even done developing, hon.'

'so, it's almost done, and I just know that it's a cute photo'

'how so?' you smirk, deciding to tease him a bit 'cause it's you, and you know that you're cute.' He blushes, he's so adorable, he blushes, and always becomes a bit shy after a compliment, especially from you.

He rubs his neck, looking away from you for a moment. 'Yeah, I knew that, I know that. Uhm,' he clears his throat, 'yeah, oh, Oh, I wanted to show you, this,' He pulls a box from his desk drawer, A Super Nintendo box. He grins ear to ear.

'I thought that maybe you'd like to play with me or something, it's two player, so yeah.'

I smiled, sitting up to watch him set the game up. God he is just the best; cute, funny, dorky, and the sweetest boy ever. And he looks so good doing anything, but right know he looks like an angel.

He looks back at you, 'finished, how d'ya like it?' you smile 'I love it'

He sits on the edge of his bed holding the first player controller, giving you the second, you sit next to him, more like on him, but it's not like he minds, he's having the best day ever.

You in his room, with him, laying on him, playing a game with him, looking at him with those eyes. God, he could just die, and it's been like this for almost a month now, you and him together everyday, he just loves life.

you guys continue to play almost every game on the disk for hours, two hours, and 57 minutes. After changing into three different positions to get comfortable you end up, with him laying on your back and you laying on your stomach.

Turning to look at him 'wanna watch a movie and eat snacks?' he nods and scoops you into his arms walking to your room, 'I'd rather eat you, ya know, winking, before you hit his chest jokingly, laughing a bit. He then throws you on the bed, and jumps onto your bed, with you underneath him.

He stares at you, mostly your lips, okay, you're starting at his lips, so what. You think about what would happen if you kissed him. Only for your thoughts to be cut off by his lips.

He kissed you softly, then panicked breaking away, 'Peter, why did you-' he sits up, apologizing like crazy, 'I'm so sorry, I just, oh my god, I didn't mean too, well I did, but I should've asked first, I'm soso-' only to be cut off by your lips.

Grinning as he kissed back pulling you into his lap, 'Oh, so you feel the same?' he questioned your actions 'Peter, I've liked you for a year now. Of course I like you.'

He smiles, cupping your face 'I like you too, I like you like, a lot, a lot. I've been trying to find the right time to say it, but would you officially go on a date with me as my girlfriend?'

You bite back a smile 'Yes, of course. Boyfriend.' kissing him deeper than before, making him settle his hands onto your hips pulling you closer his chest.

____________________________________________________________

So was that like okay, I'm very good at using Tumblr in fact I've never really used Tumblr in a writing/typing setting, so, yeah. Let me know if you like want a part two I guess, idk maybe I'll write smut for it. I'll try to post at least like twice a week. I will probably be writing for like Evan Peters/some of his characters, Jack Champion/some of his characters, and TASM Spiderman/Andrew Garfield. -Jaz

[mariacallous]

After stepping down as chancellor of the Jewish Theological Seminary in the spring of 2020, Arnold Eisen found himself with the time and motivation to think about a big question he’d long put off as the leader of the Conservative movement’s flagship university and, before that, as a professor of Jewish culture and religion at Stanford University. 

“When my friends asked, ‘Arnie, why is it that you have faith and we don’t?’ — I tried to figure out what experiences in my life made me open to the possibility of faith,” he said last week.

He answers their question in a new book, “Seeking the Hiding God: A Personal Theological Essay,” in which Eisen describes what he believes about a God whom he acknowledges to be elusive, if not unknowable. 

The book is a professional departure for Eisen, whose previous books examined the interior lives of American Jews and and the classics of modern Jewish thought with the forensic gaze of an academic. It is also a personal departure for an observant Jew who nonetheless shared the American Jewish allergy to what he calls “fervent God-talk.” 

“I was writing scholarship about other people’s Jewish thought for something like 40 years, but I always somehow avoided, as many scholars do, facing the questions of what I actually believe,” said Eisen.

Begun during the COVID lockdown and finished after Hamas’ 2023 attack on Israel, the book synthesizes the thoughts of some of Eisen’s intellectual heroes, including the Conservative movement theologian Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel and the German-Israeli philosopher Martin Buber. 

From Heschel he learns that Judaism is a call to action; from Buber, that miracles aren’t evidence of the supernatural, but an invitation to “abide in the astonishment” of creation. In our interview, Eisen said his aim is not to prove to the reader that God exists or that God is good, but to offer one Jewish believer’s account of how Judaism makes sense of the world. 

Eisen grew up in suburban Philadelphia, where his family attended the Conservative synagogue Temple Emanu-El. “I had my mother lighting candles every Friday night. I had my father saying the priestly benediction, putting his hands on my head and crying,” he recalled. Those powerful emotional bonds, he said, shape his theology. ”These memories sustain me. Not every one of us has that. One can come to God and Jewish tradition or any religious tradition later in life, but it makes it easier to have this kind of background.”

Eisen earned a B.A. in religious thought from the University of Pennsylvania, a BPhil in the sociology of religion at Oxford University, and his PhD in the history of Jewish thought from Hebrew University. 

Prior to becoming JTS chancellor in 2007 — the first non-rabbi in the role — he served on the faculties of Stanford, Tel Aviv and Columbia universities. He remains a full-time member of the JTS faculty.

The book, he said, is also meant to close the gap between the academy and everyday life.  

“I wanted to give an account of what this Jew believes at this point in his life, and hope that that will be meaningful to my readers and will engage them in the project of thinking about this for themselves,” said Eisen, 73. 

Our conversation was edited for length and clarity. 

You are a scholar of American Judaism and the history of Jewish thought, and for 10 years you were a chancellor of a university, albeit one that also ordains rabbis. Why did you feel the need to write a book of theology?

When I was chancellor of JTS, working six long days a week, I had every excuse in the world to avoid this. But I recognized, even before I stopped, that the first project I wanted to take on when I stopped being chancellor was this. I wanted to try to do an account of what I myself believed about God. 

And then I had a sabbatical year off, and it turned out to be the COVID year, and it was also the year I was about to turn 70. So there was this confluence of circumstances that led me to sit down and think hard and reflect. 

I am going to ask you something that may be unfair, but I am thinking of an old radio program, “This I Believe,” where guests had to lay out their philosophies in five minutes. Do you have the elevator pitch version of your theology? 

I don’t have that pitch, but let me start with the title: ”Seeking the Hiding God.” When I say the hiding God, the dominant theological issue in Jewish life for the last couple generations has been the Holocaust, and one of the major theological responses to the Holocaust is what we call [in Hebrew] “hester panim,” the hiding of God’s countenance, which is a phrase from the end of the book of Deuteronomy. And some Jewish thinkers apply this not only to reactions to tragedy, but, for example, to the condition of modern life. Martin Buber writes a book called “Eclipse of God.” Or the Orthodox thinker Eliezer Berkowitz, who says that this is a permanent condition of human life: that if God was so close to us that we could grab God at every opportunity, there wouldn’t be room for us to be free human beings with initiative in action and thought. So God needs to be far away, as it were, for us to be who God wants us to be. 

I had the sense for a long time that if I was really a better person or more devoted to my Judaism, or spent more time in prayer, or more time thinking about God, that I would be granted a much more robust set of religious experiences, and I would be much more certain about this God that our tradition teaches us can be encountered. And what I came to recognize is that my sporadic, momentary, ephemeral encounters with God were far more typical than not, and that many Jewish thinkers testify that this is precisely the kind of experiences that they’ve had as well. 

That’s the “hiding part.” But you also write in the book that if God’s countenance is hidden, God’s intentions are not. You write how Buber said that human beings cannot know when or how God acts to punish or reward, but they can heed the prophets who said they should pursue “righteousness and loving-kindness to the maximum extent possible under the circumstances.”

If there’s a mantra in the book, it’s Deuteronomy 29:28: The mysteries belong to God, but the revealed things are given to us and to our children to live a life of mitzvah, and we can have this good life. 

In that regard, a word that keeps coming up in your book is “action,” and how human action is key to bringing out redemption, or realizing love in the world, or righting injustice. That seems key to your theology. 

Central, absolutely central. I can’t imagine belief in God is meant for us to secrete ourselves away and to meditate and contemplate our own enlightenment. That’s not what this tradition says. I’m a child of the ’60s, and I saw that political action and social activism made a difference for good in the world. And in Heschel I had in front of me this personal example, even before I met him: I’d read his books and admired his work, and then I got to meet him, and he just left me convinced that that piety does not stop in the synagogue. You have this famous paragraph in his book “God in Search of Man” in which he writes that Judaism doesn’t take a leap of faith. It takes a leap of action. And that paragraph means everything to me. 

I think many Jews appreciate action — home rituals like the Passover seder, or acts of loving-kindness or social action expressed as tikkun olam — but don’t understand the point of prayer. I know it’s a vast question, but what do you think is happening when you are in prayer?

I can say that for me, there isn’t only one thing that’s happening, and it doesn’t always happen. Prayer in Judaism is not just petition, which is what the English word sounds like. It’s not just asking for things. It could be saying thank you, or saying hello, or “here I am, God, I’m happy you’re in my life,” or “I’m sorry.” And for me, the hope is to have a sense of being fully myself. I’m trying my best to stand before God, even when it’s really hard to imagine this God that I want to stand before. I’m really standing before myself and that which is most precious to me in the world, and trying to use my time in the world well, and stepping aside from all the distractions of normal life and focusing inwards. And by focusing inward, you somehow connect to God.

But what I should declare in this moment, since you asked in this direct way, is that unlike some Jewish thinkers like Mordecai Kaplan [the founder of the Reconstructionist movement], who did not believe in a God who can hear prayer, I’m much more open-minded about this. I would not have the chutzpah to make a declaration about what God can and cannot do. I think Kaplan was anachronistic there and that you can’t say what any modern person can believe. And I testify in the book that I myself have had experiences where I feel my prayers have been answered. What that means from God’s side, I don’t know. 

I know lots of people who can’t bring themselves to engage in anything like what we call prayer, because they can’t tell it to their minds, and so they don’t try. And what a shame that is. Because if one opens oneself to this possibility of encounter with the divine, the transcendent, whatever you want to call it, then it may happen. 

You write that when you teach American college students about Buber and Heschel, they ask “why these thinkers needed to talk about God so much when what they really cared about was ethics.” It’s the classic question: Can’t you be good without God, and what does belief in a supreme being add to the equation? 

Yes, one could have a good life without God. And yes, one does not have to be a Jew to have a good life or whatever afterlife is promised to us. But if this is an eternal human search, and if you can have the grace of encounter with God — if that is possible, why would you possibly want to live without that? I’m not preaching to anybody. But what I am saying, in all humility, is that I cannot imagine my life without the Torah and without the quest for God or the Sabbath any more than I could imagine my life without my wife and my kids and my good friends — without love. It’s just part of the basic operating equipment that makes me the person I am. The great theologian Franz Rosenzweig taught that we’re not here to prove anything. We’re here to testify. 

I want to ask you to put on your institutional hat for a second, and ask from that perspective why so many American Jews might be resistant to the transcendent. According to Pew, U.S. Jews are far less likely than the public overall to say that religion is important in their lives. You write in your book, “Jews engage in sustained or fervent God-talk much less than Americans of other faiths.” As someone who was in the business of training rabbis for 10 years, do you see that as a failure of the synagogue or other institutions?

Because of my background in modern religion in general and in modernization, and my studies of sociological theory and sociology of religion, I’m acutely aware of how difficult faith is in the modern world, and especially for Jews in America, where we are such a distinct minority. And if you’re a Jew, you’re exposed to this dominant secular language on the one hand, and Christian language on the other hand, which is, chances are good, evangelical or fundamentalist. And the Jewish language you hear from other Jews is a very ultra-Orthodox language, which may not suit you, and you may become convinced that that’s the only language there is. So we have failed them, yes, but the culture is such that it makes it really hard not to fail.

I had the experience again this past weekend speaking at a synagogue in San Diego, and having to tell committed Jews that the theology which says God is responsible for everything that happens in the world is by far not the only Jewish theology there is. One does not have to believe that the Holocaust happened with God’s acquiescence, let alone with God’s active participation. And [the audience] was simply not aware of all these options. They’ve never been exposed to them, not as adults and not back in Hebrew school. That, to me, that’s tragic.

I want to ask specifically about the Conservative movement, because you headed one of its flagship institutions. First, is there something capital-C Conservative about your theology?

No, I didn’t write the book denominationally. I am a lifelong Conservative Jew, and my theology is certainly compatible with that. But I am a Jew first and foremost, and the dominant resources in my book are the Torah and the siddur and the rabbis of old, and modern Jewish thought of all stripes. There’s [Modern Orthodox Rabbi Joseph] Soloveitchik is in this book, along with Heschel, and [Reform Jewish philosopher Emil] Fackenheim, Kaplan. Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, Reconstructionist. It’s not a Conservative book.

More and more, we may affiliate with a particular synagogue, but we’re not necessarily in our thinking denominational. I cannot be ultra-Orthodox because I’m an egalitarian Jew, but beyond that, there’s meaning to be found in every single denomination.

The other question I want to ask about the Conservative movement is its relevance. In sheer size, influence and market share it is not the central movement it was a generation or more ago. In what ways did you confront this challenge as chancellor, what changes did you hope to bring about, and did some of that thinking have anything to do with the ideas in the book?

Let’s understand what conditions fostered the growth of Conservative Judaism in the ’30s through the ’60s, which were sociological and economic and political. This was the right movement with the right message for the time. And then I think the movement made two key innovations — the first, of course, being egalitarianism regarding women, and the second, which I had a direct role in, which was opening itself up to LGBTQ individuals in a full way. Had we not done either of those things, the movement would not be even as successful as it is today. It would not be a live movement. 

But these are very difficult times, and I think that we’re not doing so badly. Yes, the number of people who say “I’m a Conservative Jew” is much less than it used to be. I think that is primarily because Conservative rabbis will not perform intermarriages, and if you can’t have a Conservative rabbi [officiate] your wedding and you’re intermarried or the child of an intermarriage, you’re not going to say, “I’m a Conservative Jew.” But the membership statistics [as opposed to self-identity] are not that bad. The Reform movement is several percentage points above Conservative, Modern Orthodoxy is still around 3 to 4%, which means it’s not growing by leaps and bounds, and ultra-Orthodoxy is growing, yes, but only by virtue of birth rate. So we in America have a problem. All of us have a problem. Yes, the middle is shrinking, but Judaism is shrinking and religion is shrinking. If less than 40% of American Jews are affiliated with anything Jewish, where are we with this community? How can we be a stronger community? How do we get people in the door? This is our problem. 

So since you wrote a book about theology, not institutional reform, I want to ask how your ideas about God and practice and action might address the questions you just posed. 

When it comes to what you do with the people when they’re in the door, I have strong opinions, and they are directly related to the book. The Yom Kippur chapter, for example, explains how, on the one hand, I love Yom Kippur. I love the music. I love the liturgy. I love the experience of 25 hours with my community. And yet I can’t stand a lot of the liturgy. I disagree profoundly with the leading theme. I don’t think God is there deciding who lives for another year and who doesn’t, and that’s the central theme of the day. 

So how can you have a congregation which gets together for 25 hours without giving people the chance to sit around small tables, when they’re most open, perhaps most thoughtful, and discuss honestly with one another what they actually believe about these things? I urge every single rabbinical student I come in contact with, do not do the Unetaneh Tokef prayer [“who shall live, and who shall die…”] without contextualizing it. Do not let people believe that if they walk out of synagogue and get hit by a car, God has decided to get them hit by a car. 

The final thing I’d say about this is that we’re in a difficult time. Because of AI, people are going to lose their jobs, and people who have jobs are going to be [doing something] completely different than they were before. And it’s scary because of climate change: The catastrophe is imminent, and at some level, we all know this. The Hamas attack on Oct. 7 made tragedy and fear visceral for many Jews, and some of them flocked back to Jewish communities. They want contact with their tradition. They’re looking for meaning. It’s a moment of crisis, but it’s a moment of great opportunity, and we just need to be creative. 

There are dozens of really skillful clergy and educators in this country who are doing this all the time, and it can be done. It’s just not widespread enough. We’re not always as creative as we could be, but I’m convinced that the possibilities are there now. 

I wanted to ask about Israel: How does it fit into your theology? You write that “God is counting on human beings to write the next chapter of history,” which would suggest that you find it difficult to believe that Israel’s creation and its well-being are in the hands of a God who intervenes in history. 

Israel is crucial to my Judaism, but it’s not because God is doing this. I don’t know what God is doing there. I pray that it will turn out to be the beginning of the flowering of our redemption. But who knows? 

My teacher David Hartman [the late Israeli-American philosopher] taught me and many other people that the theological model for Israel is not Exodus, where God split the Red Sea, but Sinai, where what is important is that Jews try to live up to the responsibilities of the Covenant, and that they translate the ethical principles pronounced in the 10 Commandments. Israel opens up new possibilities for covenant. What can we do now that we’re a majority responsible for non-Jews as well as for Jews, Jewish healthcare policy, Jewish foreign policy, Jewish educational policy, etc.? It’s a great opportunity to see what mitzvah can mean in the modern world. In a place where Jews have a majority, it’s not about God intervening in history.

My last question is going to be the classic one that I think everyone who tackles theology has to talk about, which is your views of the afterlife. Do you believe in one, and how does death figure into your thinking about God and your purpose in life? 

I can’t be like Moses Mendelssohn in the 18th century, the great Jewish thinker, and prove to you logically that there’s an afterlife where the good are rewarded and the evil are punished. I can’t do that, but what I can do is witness to the kind of faith that I’ve managed to acquire, which holds out the possibility that death is not the end of everything. Genesis teaches that Sarah’s life continues with her children, and Jacob’s life continues with his children. And I certainly think that’s true, but it’s not only in children, and it’s not only in students, and it’s not only in the legacy we leave behind us. It could well be that there’s some immortality for the person. 

When I was at Stanford and the Dalai Lama came to speak, I was really struck by the fact that he fervently believes that our beings do not cease to be when we die. So we’re in good company. I think that we should not give up on this, and that theologians, if they can encourage this kind of hope, they should, and that’s what I try to do in the book.

[renlyslittlerose]

Last week was the one year anniversary of me posting my first obikin fic, and over the last year being a part of the fandom has brought me so much joy and happiness and enthusiasm once again. Some of you knew me before 2019 and were aware that I was working on my Masters in the Classics, which included a massive thesis. While working on the thesis I was also working part-time at the museum, as well as battling a few chronic illnesses - some of which still affect me today - all of which drained me physically and emotionally. When I had finished my thesis and graduated from the program I was well and truly burnt out. 

 2020 was rough for everyone, and I was contented to just exist without doing much of anything that could be seen as creatively productive. But then 2020 came and passed and I thought maybe I should get back on the saddle, and started working on my own original story. I fell off of social media, didn’t interact in fandom, and tried to grind out a story that wasn’t working like I had hoped it would. 2021 and I still wasn’t ‘feeling it’; I had gone from writing about 1-2k words a day to 500 words a week - if I was lucky. A part of me wondered if I was tapped out for good, that I didn’t have it in me anymore, and that my thesis was my last creative outlet - my last hooray.  I know it sounds a bit dramatic, but when you go from creating almost every day since you were sixteen years old, to suddenly believe that the well has run dry is terrifying. Maybe I was done for good - maybe I wouldn’t create something I was proud of.

And then Kenobi came out. I was a massive prequels fan since I was nine years old and the Phantom Menace came out, and an even bigger Darth Vader fan, but I had never interacted with the fandom in any meaningful way. I was contented to just watch the films and the shows and leave it at that. But as I was watching I had the epiphany that Obi-Wan and Anakin were actually ~roommates all along. I started reading obikin fic, came back on tumblr to see what sort of fandom there was, and suddenly found myself with ideas again, and a desire to create something. 

So I wrote my first fic ‘Sacred to the Gods’ based off of a thesis I wrote during my undergrad about the psychology of a Greek demigod. It took me about a week to write, but in that time I had a lot of fun - the words started to come more easily, the vibes were there, and the passion was slowly but surely returning. One fic turned into another, and then another, and suddenly I had written two multi-chaptered long-form fics, some shorter multi-chaptered ones, and a bunch of oneshots, all about our favourite duo. 

And in the that span of time, not only was I able to rediscover my passion for writing and feel inspired again, but I met so many amazing, incredible, kind, passionate, creative people who welcomed me with open arms. I was used to fandom being sort of a gate-keepy thing, where if you were the new kid in town it would take you a while to work your way into any circles. But it didn’t happen with this fandom. I went up to a few people, held out my macaroni art, and was overjoyed to see them take it and immediately put it up on their fridge.

There are a lot of people I want to thank, and I should thank, from those who read my stuff, those who send me asks on tumblr, those who bookmark and kudos and comment, and those who followed me, but there isn’t any space to do all that. So I hope that a general ‘THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU’ will suffice. Thank you for giving me my passion back, thank you for supporting me, thank you for being an awesome community that has it’s issues, but still cares deeply about the art they’re creating, and who care about fostering a community. 

However, there are a few people I would specifically like to address, because I don’t think this post would be complete without you. I’ll put it behind a cut because this post is already cumbersome:

@bi-wan || My beloved! You were the first person to follow me on tumblr after reading one of my fanfictions, and the first to reach out to me to be my friend. Thank you for reaching your hand out to me and dragging me into the fold. Because of you I’ve made so many good friends who I treasure dearly - including you. 🥰

@ragnarlothcat || I feel like you and Cam are a packaged deal, and so I thank you for being curious about me and checking out my work, and for allowing me to occupy both you and Cam’s comfy little raccoon haven. You’re so supportive, and your work was some of the first I read in the fandom which truly secured my desire to be a part of it. Thank you 💖

@intermundia || I’ve told you this before, but you were the first person I approached in the fandom when I decided I wanted to dip my toes into the experience, and your warmth and welcoming nature secured my desires to be a part of this group. The fact that you support my stories and are so passionate about it really fuels my desires to keep creating (as well as feeding my ego). Thank you for being such a good presence in the fandom.👑

@theseptemberist || I have a feeling that Will told you about me, and I am so glad that he did because we’ve struck up such a friendship that I can’t see myself without. Our chats on discord over the past few months have been wonderful in so many ways that are too innumerous to say here. Thank you for sharing your heart, and for being so kind and empathetic. And thank you for sharing your encyclopedic knowledge of fandom tea ☕

@unspuncreature || Just like Rag and Cam come as a team, you and Cal (and Wren, even though I’ve never spoken to her but feel like I know her) are the trio that delight and entertain. Thank you for your brilliant art and creativity, thank you for letting me bounce all my ideas off of you, and thank you for collaborating with me. You’re brilliant 💗

@kyberkenobi || Beyond the fact that your filthy brain inspires me and delights me, and the fact that you’re willing to goed me on when I come up with something that’s delightfully nasty, your maturity when it comes to fandom is refreshing. At the threat of sounding like a proud grandma, you’re still so young and yet you’ve got a lot of shit figured out - most importantly, that fandom is supposed to be for fun and write what you want to write. Can’t wait for us to finally collaborate one of these days 💕

@dininginspace || What can I say? You’re a delight, you’re incredibly funny, you’re kind and understanding, and you’re the best cheerleader a loser like me could ask for. The fact that you jumped on the Buffy bandwagon when I drove by on it secures you as one of my favourite people. Thank you so much for your early and continued support 🧛‍♂️

@nuandia || Thank you for chatting with me all the time; keep up your writing, it’s brilliant and worth it, even if you doubt it sometimes. 💖

@grapenehifics || I had just finished watching MASH when you commented on Moonlight Serenade. The noise I made when I saw your username, followed by the continued joy I get whenever I see you on my dash or in my inbox, or when I see you’ve posted something new for the world to enjoy. 🧡

@palfriendpatine66 || You’re a delight. You’ve got things figured out, and how you can write so much with the life you’ve got is incredible. Keep going - you’re a gem. 💎

@binaryeclipse || Love chatting with you on discord, and being able to throw out random things about Canada into the chat that doesn’t need explaining - you just get it. Especially when it comes to Alberta politics. It doesn’t always feel like a safe space out there when you’re an Albertan who loves her province but also hates so many things about it, but you make me feel as if I can be a contradictory mess and still feel as if I belong in Canada. Your muse will come back soon, I trust in this ✨

@treescape || Your work is sublime and an inspiration. I read your fics first when I went hunting for things to read, and was immediately captivated. When you followed me back and weren’t at all weirded out by me bounding over to you like an excitable golden retriever, I was very grateful - I am very grateful. Can’t wait to see what you create next. 💛

@starsdies || Thank you for listening to me; thank you for being so inspiring; thank you for helping with community events and exchanges. And thank you for streaming The Last of Us for me because I’m too cheap to buy HBO Max. 🙏

@tessiete || You fact-checked the details I put into Moonlight and all I can say is THANK YOU. Sometimes I feel like I’m getting too lost in the details, but its people like you who google that shit that makes me feel good about my obsessions. 🌸

[wanderinghedgehog]

I finally finished that poem I started awhile back.

The Productions of the Gurstein-Mills Theater

I nearly killed him for the role of Romeo back in ‘07.

He got it anyway.

I couldn’t think of a way to stab him discreetly.

We did a table read

And I kept mindlessly aiming the sharp end of my pencil at the veins in his wrist.

Onstage,

I thought too much about the sword strapped against my hip

And almost fucked up my lines four times.

I actually threatened him over the role of Orestes in ‘09.

The company said there’d be no legal action

If I stayed out of that year’s season.

It was a damn shame.

I really liked the Greek plays.

I was Edgar the next year.

He was Edmund.

For once, I was the legitimate one.

My cousin saw that production and asked who played the bastard.

During the last show,

I managed to land a hit on his forehead with the hilt of my sword.

He missed his next cue.

He left the theater in 2015.

Said he had to spend time with his mom in Oregon.

This was just fine by me.

Fantasizing about killing him had gotten a little repetitive.

I’d stopped trying to get at him

And just started staring menacingly

And hoping he got the gist of it.

I was never any less angry,

Just tired.

During the winter of 2017,

We pulled together a production of Macbeth.

I still couldn’t land a leading role.

They gave me Banquo.

The reviews were shit.

I looked out into the audience one night.

There were the two usual critics in their blazers and chunky necklaces,

The little kids who were probably too young for this play,

And him.

Back from Oregon, I guess.

He rejoined the company for the 2018 season.

Before the cast list was revealed,

He emailed me something that looked heartfelt and wordy.

I read the first and last paragraphs.

It was something about growing as a person and moving forward.

This was the sort of bullshit I missed.

He’d still be Hamlet,

I’d be Claudius or something,

And he’d talk like we’re on the exact same page.

I was Richard III in 2019.

I asked him if he wished he’d gotten this role.

He said Richard suits me and that he wouldn’t stand in my way.

I poked and prodded him for awhile.

I asked all the worst questions.

“What do you think of your role?”

“Isn’t there one you’d rather have?”

“Didn’t you audition with a Richard III monologue a while ago?”

He got bored, gave me a pat on the back, and walked away.

I started to wonder if I’d read the cast list wrong.

We had Twelfth Night lined up for 2020.

We didn’t even know our parts when the theater temporarily shut down.

Obviously, I’d been eyeing the Duke Orsino’s lines,

But that was more out of obligation

Than a love for the character.

Maybe I’d have gotten lucky just this time.

Honestly, there wasn’t much else I wanted from that play,

Just a main role.

I suppose I was satisfied for awhile with no one getting a main role.

In 2022, we brought everyone back for Coriolanus.

I was Aufidius, of course.

Who the titular character went to was a surprise to fucking nobody.

At that point, there wasn’t anything else to say.

Rehearsals started.

I nearly dozed off backstage a few times.

Nobody was ever really happy with Act 4 scene 5.

I couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of me

Standing stage right of him,

Rambling about how I dreamed of meeting him in battle

And how I “waked half dead with nothing.”

To me, it felt like ‘07

And- god!- I didn’t want to be 24 again.

Romeo and Juliet is back for round two in 2023.

He isn’t Romeo.

Neither am I.

They’re trying out some new kid this year.

We both agree they could’ve chosen better.

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Through The Heart Is The Only Way. Chapter Nine: "Stay." Poly!Chiffany X FEM! AFAB! Reader.

Well here we are! This might very well be the LAST fic of Multi-May! Can you believe it?! This month has been insane, I mean just look at all I accomplished! With this fic it brings the total up to 12 fics and one update of my current long fic, the total word count of all of these even beating the amount I wrote for Kinky December back in 2020! I might get one more thing out before the month is out but maybe not, don’t hold your breath, a few things I received during this month will still get written though! So if you sent in a request but didn’t see it get done, don’t give up hope! It might just come out a little later. Now, I have been writing this chapter update on and off all month between my other projects, it is a massive labour of love and I hope you all love it too, this is a DOOZY of an update. Massive shout out to @eggsandbeer who proofread this! A very long time coming in many respects, so let’s not waste any more time and let’s finish this month off RIGHT! Masterlist for the whole series is found, here.

—

Rating. Explicit. Length. 12K. (I KNOW! Okay I know!) Charles Lee Ray X Tiffany Valentine X FEM! AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Masturbation. Softness. Fluff. Big Emotions. Spoilers For Night Of The Lepus AND Stand By Me. Cuddling. Kissing. Making Out. Smoking. Alcohol Consumption. Grinding. Dirty Talk. Taunting. Voyurism. Teasing. Banter. Lingerie. Multiple Orgasms. Vaginal Fingering. Hand Job. Blow Job. Eating Out. Vaginal Sex. Safe Sex. Threesome. Cum Swapping. 

—

Normally waking up to a sink full of dishes that you neglected to do the night before would start your day off on the wrong foot, but the following morning after your date hosting Chucky and Tiffany? It feels like nothing could sour your good mood, almost as if the sinkful of sticky and stained porcelain and utensils was an old friend you were excited to see.

Okay that might be a small exaggeration but fuck it, you were happy, you allowed yourself to be a little silly, a bit giddy over how well it went. So with the radio on and coffee brewing you are soon elbow deep in hot soapy water and scrubbing grease laden plates and the heavy bottom frying pan you used last night, humming all the while.

You keep playing last night, particularly the end of your date, over and over in your mind. God, it was such a good time, you were genuinely very excited for your next date, curious what you would do. That kept on occupying your thoughts, every date had been pretty different so far, you wondered if they were going to call you up with a plan all laid out or what. Once the dishes were done the rest of that day was spent pretty typically. After the dishes and some breakfast you find yourself retreating back to your bed, you thought about them so much previously and didn’t satisfy yourself last night so before starting the rest of your day proper you got that out of the way, twice. It isn’t like it took long while you thought about the taste of him thick on your tongue and Tiffany touching and encouraging you the whole time. 

Next you did some errands, some self care, went to work, and it was a lovely day with you in such a good mood, totally in your element, tips flowing well for a normally not great night for them spelling out just how happy you were. Logan and Marcy commented and with a shrug you just told them, “I dunno, lucky night I guess.”

The pair scoff, unconvinced, “Uh-huh, sure.”

For some reason they didn’t believe you that you were simply just that happy to be at work but thankfully they didn’t pry as much as they had previously. 

You don’t let them bother you either way. As excited as you are for this next date, whatever it will be, you were still more than willing to be patient, secure in the knowledge that they would get back to you when they could just as they said.

You continue on living, a night out with co-workers here, working there and finally you get a call a week after your last date. When the phone rang you jumped slightly before hopping to rush and grab the phone, picking it up with a hopeful, “Hello?”

And then you hear her voice, “Ahhh there you are, hey, I’m glad I caught you.” 

You hold the phone closer, a soft sigh, your other hand on the table top as you feel yourself sink into the warm honey of her voice filling your ear, you slide down into the corner of the couch next to the end table you kept your phone on. “Tiffanyyy, how are you?”

“Good, very good, how are you?” She asks and you hum out, “The same, good, been busy at work, waiting for your call.”

“Sorry for the wait honey, what Chucky and I had to do took longer than we were expecting.” You didn’t think she needed to apologise but it was still appreciated, especially when she said it like that. “Oh no worries, I kept busy, it wasn't like I was just sitting by the phone.”

She laughs, “No way, I could never imagine you doing that. You? Spending a whole week sitting alone at home every night?”

You giggle along, fingers instinctively go for the phone cord and curl around the coil as you respond, “You’re right, very much not like me.”

“Oh yeah, total party animal.” She agrees and you say after a moment, “I’d call myself more of a zoo keeper.” 

“A zoo keeper?” She inquires and you respond, “Yeah, I corral and control the party animals and keep 'em in check when I’m working.”

She laughs again, you love the sound. “Cute! That is very cute but still, you should be partying it up when you aren’t corralling the wild animals you feed drinks to night in and night out.” You take that as your cue, “So you got some big party animal plans for our next date then?” 

“Well about that…We were feeling so bad about us taking longer than we were thinkin’ it would, that we wanna make it up to you and wanted to ask what do you want to do?” 

Tiffany was so sweet, offering for you to pick what you would all do was nice, offering to host since you did last time was even better. You want to see her and Chucky sooner rather than later, you are off tomorrow and then not for days and days, thus, you don’t want to wait almost another week. So you ask, “Are you both free tomorrow?”

“Short notice, but let me check.” You hear her pull the phone away, she calls out, asks something to who you assume is naturally Chucky and the phone is brought back, “We are wide open.”

Success. 

There is one hurdle however. You’d been keeping an eye on the weather as you always did, considering you either walked or relied on the subway system to get basically anywhere, you had to be aware of what you were stepping out into and sadly, even though it is late into March they are calling for a snowstorm tomorrow. It wasn’t supposed to be anything nuts but enough that going out would be a bit of a pain. You had been working hard all week and so the idea hit you and you said, “How about we rent some tapes and have a date night in?”

She lets out this pleased hum and you grin as she says, “Oh that sounds perfect, I hear it’s supposed to be miserable out tomorrow. How about you come over here and we host you since you had us over last time?”

“You wanna check with ol Chuck first? How is Chucky anyway?” She told you how she was but not how he was, she says, “He’s fine and I am sure he will be alright with the idea of you coming over to us and him not having to do a thing.”

Fair point, you laugh at how easily she dismissed your worries. “Rent whatever you want and come by at about four tomorrow before the snow starts?” 

Sounded perfect. “I’ll be there, can’t wait.”

“Me either-” And then she said something that you were thankful she chose to do over the phone, if she would have said it to you in person you might have just died, “-I missed you.” 

“You missed me?” You asked, slight disbelief and she corrected yourself, tone quieter, as if she was trying to hide it from a certain redhead. The image of her turning her body, both hands cradling the phone, a smile on her face that could almost be read as shy as she makes the small confession, floods your mind. “Well, WE missed you but he wouldn’t ever say that out loud.”

Oh you were sure that was the case, you were also sure you’d wear him down eventually and get some semblance of softness out of him. You hadn’t thought that was possible previously but with how this is all going, you think it might happen eventually. You could see it when he was with her, the intimacy, comfortability, the closeness and how he didn’t lean away from it but rather to it. The fact you were allowed to see that, given that little peak in makes you wonder, were you special? Or is she too alluring and makes him react like that even when he rather wouldn’t expose himself in that fashion? 

“Oh my God, you’re getting soft on me!” You exclaim and she says, “What? You think I can’t be soft because I look this tough?

“Yeah the gothy exterior is real misleading, hm? You totally suckered me.” You claim and she laughs, “Hook line and sinker.”

You hear another voice and then Tiffany saying in an annoyed but amused tone, “Alright, alright, here-” And then his voice is in your ear, also sounding very amused, “What is so fucking funny that you all keep laughing over?”

“Awe you feeling left out Chuck? Don’t worry about it, I’ll be there before you know it and her and I can fawn all over you.” The promise seems to please him, “Now that's what I like to hear. Haven’t been too bored without us?” You can picture how he looks too, leaning over the back of their couch, right next to Tiffany, that cocky smile you have gotten to know as he talks into the phone, the occasional glance to her as he does so.

“Hardly, I was just telling your lovely girlfriend that I’ve been keeping myself plenty busy but I can admit that shit is much better with you both around.” Your fingers had been getting tangled in the phone cord during this conversation as you played with it and now you were unwrapping them as he responded, “Naturally, course it is, we’re the best.”

“Mmm you sure are, and now I hate to cut this short but I gotta start getting ready for work tonight.” He groans, “Booo-”

You hear Tiffany, she is still close by just like you thought, “What?” He fills her in, “She’s gotta get ready for work now.”

Tiffany echoes his sentiment, “Boooo-” It sounds like he is holding the phone so they can both hear and respond to you now. 

“You remember where our place is?” He asked and you hummed, “It’s tattooed on my brain.”

You could hear the beginnings of Chucky complaining and you cut him off, “C’mon, less than twenty four hours, I’ll be at your place, think you can live until then?” 

“I’ll do whatever I have to make sure he is alive for your arrival.” Tiffany promises and Chucky jokes, “Anything? Even mouth to mouth?” 

You hear the sound of a playful smack and a quiet, “Ow-” Laughing you tell them, “See you both soon, bye.” 

“Bye.” Comes the call in unison out of the phone, before you hang up. Getting off the couch you make your way to the bedroom to get yourself together for your shift and start to think about just what to wear to their place and what just to watch. Work flies by, you look cute and Logan gives you minimal shit and before you know it, you are back on the walk to the train station with Jackson, deep in conversation.

“So you got the day off tomorrow, what are you getting up to?” He asked and you still weren’t at liberty to give the whole truth, but you could say something, “Oh not much with the storm that is supposed to be rolling in, think I am gonna have a night in, rent some tapes.” 

“Oooh, cosy, sounds good, smart too, not trekking out in that shit.” Jackson says with a nod up to the cloudy sky. “Right, you have fun braving the last vestiges of winter, solo.” You tell him and he groans, “So mean.”

“I’m no meaner than you deserve.” You tease. You wish you could be fully honest with him, but hopefully one day, Jackson takes your hand and you let him, fingers lace and you rest your head on his shoulder as you wait on the platform for your respective trains in comfortable and companionable silence. 

What does one wear to a mostly meant to be casual date in watching movies? That is what you kept asking yourself and ultimately, after much rifling through your drawers and closet you settled on a comfortable sweater and jeans, you didn’t want to look too try hard and this was supposed to be low key after all. 

Now the implication of this was clear, being alone with them in their place like this, you didn’t want to make assumptions but you aren’t dumb, it could very easily get physical again and God after how the last date ended you were liking your chances and hoping that was the case. So with all that in mind, you might have dressed up a little more under the wool and denim. You catch a last look at yourself on your way out the door and yes, you look really fucking cute, you didn’t go as heavy on the make-up as you do when you are at work but you hope Tiffany likes it all the same. Coat pulled tight around yourself and bag over your shoulder, you head out into the late afternoon chill, first stop was the video store.

You stand in front of shelves, eyes scan over vhs cases and countless titles, you are seriously considering what would be entertaining, what would they like? You wander between the aisles and then it hits, that first date you had, the movie that ended up being pretty bad, and all the fun you had ripping on it afterwards over dinner. You found the perfect movie on a bottom shelf, near a corner, it was dusty, you wondered who rented it last and maybe if it had been forgotten about. You selected one other tape and after paying the rental fee you were back out the door, another stop had you then heading for their place, a plastic bag in each hand, one with the movies and the other loaded with snacks. Soon you are inside their building and knocking on their door with a well manicured hand promptly right when you said you would be there, four o’clock on the dot.

The door swings open to see Tiffany there, gorgeous as ever, even in what you assumed were her own more casual and comfortable clothes, the grey sweater she was wearing was big, hung loosely off one shoulder and the spandex showed off what you could see below the hemline of said sweater, very well. 

“Look at you! So punctual as always.” She praised and you said, “Oh I know I couldn’t keep Chucky waiting much longer or he would be totally insufferable.”

She held the door open and let you inside, “Trust me, I can handle him. You look fantastic again by the way, adorable sweater.” 

You came in and set the bags down so you could take off your boots, “Awe thank you, same for you, looks like you could be in a hot chocolate commercial or something, so comfy.” 

In the process of being half bent over you get a look at the fact Tiffany is wearing some very fuzzy and soft looking slippers. Your boots off you stand back up and she is smiling, you tell her, “Cute slippers.” 

A glance down and she asks, “You like em?” 

“They look comfortable but leopard print?” You ask and she laughs, “What? It isn’t like they are made of real leopards.” 

You laughed loudly, “I know that!” Tiffany’s hand rests on your shoulder and she leans over, presses a kiss to your cheek before asking, “So what’s the problem then?”

My God, even that, the soft and small press of her lips to your cheek makes warmth spread through you along with the smear of gloss she left and all complaints and issues are forgotten. You sigh out as she squeezes your shoulder, “None, not a damn one.”

Caught up staring into her eyes for a moment then that familiar voice is cutting in, “Are you not telling me when our guests arrive anymore?”

A look over your shoulder to see him coming into the room, definitely the most dressed down you had seen him, also looking comfortable and at you, relief washes over you, glad you took it easy and didn’t overdress. “You know I think you can get away with wearing t-shirts more often.” 

“Right? I keep telling him that all the time.” Tiffany agrees as her hand leaves your shoulder and he grins, “Starting on the praise already, making up for lost time?”

“Can you blame me?” He was close enough now that you opened your arms, invited him for a hug, he took you up on it but asked, while you were in his arms, “I know what this is really about, she is just tryna keep you all for herself and distracting from that with the sweet talk.” 

“Heaven forbid I want some solo time before you get your grubby mitts all over her.” Tiffany taunted and he laughed, “Yeah, you weren’t complaining they were grubby earlier.” 

She scoffed and he ignored her in favour of asking, “And what? No kiss hello for me?”

You exhale amusedly and roll your eyes, you are sure if any other guy said that to you the urge to clock them in the jaw would overwhelm but with him, saying it in that teasing tone, you can’t help but want to oblige. You pull back, hands remaining on his arms and you lean up and do just what he wanted. It wasn’t especially long but it didn’t need to be to have an effect on you just like hers had earlier. When you broke that kiss, back flat on your feet Tiffany had picked up your bags that you brought in, “Look at all the goodies you brought along!”

“Sweets for the sweet and all that.” You muse before telling them, “I made some guesses on what you both like for movie snacks.” 

“Oh well we will have to grade how you did.” Chucky said with raised eyebrows as he pulled away and all of you moved into the living room, you threw your hands up, “Oooh scary.” 

You had the chance to really take in their apartment, the last time you were sufficiently distracted but now you could really see it. The couch was comfortable looking, lower lighting provided by the few lamps scattered around, and facing the couch, a low coffee table, end tables bracketing said couch, a few windows and something you didn’t expect, plants. A few well tended potted plants were around of various types, you couldn’t place them but they looked nice, definitely added to the space, the lush pops of green are welcome after so much winter. Tiffany patted the spot next to her and you took it, Chucky sitting beside you before turning the bag upside down onto the coffee table. 

“Milk duds? Hell yeah.” Tiffany praised as she plucked up the box and Chucky said, “Junior mints-”

“You got something against chocolate and mint, Chuck?” You cut in and he was already opening the box and popping one into his mouth, “Hardly, I think it’s an underrated combo, but telling that I open my mouth and you think I’m gonna be critical and complain.”

“Well when you do it so frequently-” Tiffany started and he bit back, reaching over you to playfully push her shoulder, “Shut it.” 

“Awe, I thought you liked me with my mouth open?” She asked and he agreed and corrected her with a well timed raise of his eyebrows, the innuendo clear, “Open yes but full preferably.” 

You cut in and ask, “So we making this popcorn I brought or what?” Tiffany picked up the package, dropping the box of candy for the moment and said, “Of course, on it.” 

“Need any help?” You ask and she said while patting you on the shoulder, “I think I got it covered, but thanks honey.” 

You could get so used to her calling you names like that. You watch her go and you are on the couch with Chucky alone, turning to him you asked, “So what did you and Tiff do that ended up running long? You never said.”

“Oh didn’t we? Nothing major, a work thing.” He shrugs and you realise at that moment that they had never told you what they did for work. How has that happened with how long you have been seeing them? It hits then, whenever you are making plans to hang out it is all centered around your work schedule with very little issues from either of them on their front, weird. 

“You know you and Tiff never shared what you do for work.” You said and he asked, in a seemingly uninterested tone, “Didn’t we? Coulda sworn we did.” 

“No, pretty sure you didn’t.” And after he didn’t say anything further you prompt him, “Soooo, what do you do?” 

He glanced over to you, tipping the box over and letting a few more junior mints fall into his hand, “Freelance work, it’s real open ended and flexible, which is nice for us, gives us a ton of freedom.” He said it so easily and you had no reason to not believe him, before you could pry further into what KIND of freelance work Tiffany was coming back in, bowl of popcorn and a bottle of wine, “You opposed to a few glasses?”

“Oooh not at all!” Tiffany grabbed wine glasses next and sat next to you again on the couch, she started to pour and Chucky asked, “So what did you rent anyway?”

“Two movies-” You reached out and snatched up the other bag, pulling one VHS tape out, “-Night Of The Lepus is up first.”

“Night of that what?” He asked as he took the tape, as if the clear plastic case would give him a better indication of the movie’s content and you said, “Lepus, Chuck. Night Of The Lepus.”

“The fuck is a Lepus?” You laugh and pluck the tape back out of his grip, “Guess you will have to just watch the movie and find out.”

“Yeah sweetface. I am sure it is going to be good if she picked it out.” You leaned over, a kiss to her cheek, “Thank you.” 

“Anytime.” She coos and in short order the tape is put in the VCR player and the three of you settle in to watch. You liked this, being between the pair of them, sinking into the cushions of the comfortable couch, ample snacks, a drink in your hand and casual points of contact. This feels right. Your thigh was against hers as she leaned into you and Chucky had his arm over your shoulders, his hand playing with some of the loose hair at the base of Tiff’s neck and you felt as relaxed and at ease as you do in your own apartment. 

The movie is rolling and as expected for your little group, there was easy conversation and riffing about what was happening on screen. 

The newscaster on the screen is speaking at this moment, “-it’s difficult to conceive that such an innocent furry rabbit, scientifically known as lepus, can be so destructive.”

“Oh so that is what lepus means? Rabbits?” Tiffany asks and Chucky chimed in, confused tone, “This movie is about what? Mutant bunnies?” 

“Mutant killer bunnies. And yeah! Just wait, trust me, it’s to your taste.” You assure and he decides to but not without a roll of his eyes.

As the movie goes on Tiffany is very into it, when the scientists are capturing bat specimens she is even happier, “Bats AND bunnies? So cute.” Chucky smiled as he said, “You are just in heaven, aren’t you?”

He starts getting into it too, the jokes flow more, conversation more fast paced, Chucky pointing out, “They just blatantly re-used that news footage from the opening-” 

“I like rabbits, mommy!” Exclaims the girl on screen which has him abandoning his original thought to say, “Yeah something tells me she won’t by the end of this.” The tone he says it with almost makes you choke on your sip.

“Wow those sure are some zoom-ins.” Tiffany said and Chucky asked, “What do you think they put on the rabbits faces for the blood?” You offered up, “Jam? I think it's probably jam.” 

“Growling, the rabbits are growling.” You say and Tiffany laughs, “Did you hear that scream?!” Chucky himself laughing, “Like it came from 12-year-old, so high pitched-” You all on cue at the same time mocked it together before falling into another laughing fit.

“These rabbits just do not stop growling.” You say later on and Tiffany says, “I know they are big and bad and we are supposed to hate them but they are just still so cute!”

It is quiet for a moment before Tiffany asks, “Hey sweetface?” 

Without turning his head he says firmly, “We are not getting a rabbit.” She pouts, “Oh why not?” He turned towards your direction, a hand landing on your knee as he said, “You did this, I’m blaming you.”  

You put your hand on his knee in kind, leaning in closer as you say, “I’d apologize and say I’m sorry but It’d be a fat fucking lie, Chuck, so I’ll spare you.” He deadpans, “I love your honesty, it's so sexy.”

And more towards the end of the movie, you had an arm around her, saying, “They aren’t really dying Tiff.” She pulls her glass back from taking another hearty sip and says, “I know that but it looks so convincing, you know?” 

Later still Chucky is saying, “They are talking about the railroad a lot.” And once the movie reached its finale, all the massive nearly car sized bunnies being electrocuted at the railroad trap that was set up he said, “Oh. Well fuck. It was important.”

Once it wrapped up Tiffany was still going on, “They are so big! Do you think I could ride one?” You ask, “Like a pony?” She excitedly agrees, “Yeah like a pony!”

“Well I gotta admit, for a dumb movie about killer bunnies, it was pretty entertaining.” Chucky said, giving it up and you say, “The jokes and drinking helped I am sure.” 

Tiffany leaned over, a quick hug as she said, “The company did too.” 

“Mannn, between this, the slippers, loving the bunnies, you are getting soft.” You tease and she lets you go, “Insulting me in my own home. So rude.” 

“We gonna do some dinner before the next movie?” Chucky asks and you perk up, “Oh that sounds great! What are we thinking?”

“I pre-made a lasagna earlier in anticipation for this, can just put it in the oven and mid-way through the movie when it’s done I can serve it up and we can eat.”

“Look at you, thinking of everything.” He praised as she got up and with a big smile asserted, “Someone’s gotta.” 

You got up, had been on the couch the whole time the movie was on, you stretched and asked them, “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Oh down the hall there.” You thank him and head off where he directed. When you were washing your hands you turned your head to look out the window and the whole thing was covered with snow. After you dried your hands you figured you should check this out further, you opened the window, took more force than you thought it would, the thing was practically frozen shut and when you got it open you were greeted with pure white sleet so thick you couldn’t see more than a foot in front of you. The chill was bitter, the wind biting and it had you slamming the window closed with a shiver, hands brushing over the front of your shirt, wiping away the snow that had stuck to you in the ten seconds you had the window open. 

The weather channel lied. The storm has evolved into an all out blizzard and it is bad, the worst one in a long time. You come back outside and ask, “Have you seen outside?”

“No, why?” He got up and went over to the window and looked out, “Holy shit, it looks fuckin’ nightmarish out.” 

“Yeah. Maybe I should uh get out of here before it gets worse?” Tiffany and Chucky shared a look before she looked back over her shoulder at you, “No way are you going out in that mess!” 

“Yeah you should spend the night.” Chucky offered, and you asked, “Really? You’d be okay with that?”

“Duh of course. No way should you be out walking in that, we wouldn’t even drive you in it-” Tiffany said and you asked, “Wait drive? You guys have a car?”

“We do. We don’t drive her much in the winter in the city, that much salt you are just asking for rust problems.” Her, the car is a her, he is one of those car guys, you bet “she” even had a name, it was weirdly endearing, and also opened up lots of possibilities too for future dates. “Does he care for the car more than you?”

“Sometimes I wonder.” She muses, “And besides we still have another movie and dinner too.” She makes a good point, you don’t want to leave yet and it would be stupid and dangerous to try and brave that blizzard. The care and concern is sweet, you say, “Thank you both.”

Chucky waves you off, “Don’t even mention it, so how about that next movie?” 

The oven had been preheated, dinner was in and going, drinks were refreshed and at that time Tiffany was asking, “And what is the second movie exactly?” 

You snatched up the bag that had been pushed to one of the upper corners of the coffee table and brought out the second tape, “Stand By Me.” 

“Oh, never seen it.” He admitted and you said, “Me either but I have read the original story by Stephen King.” 

“What is it about?” She asked and you filled them in, “It’s about four twelve-year-old boys and this adventure they set out on to go see a dead body.”

“This is your follow up to giant killer bunnies?” Chucky accused, thoroughly amused and you laughed, “What? I thought it was a good follow up, much more mild, less nuts and out there, a palette cleanser if you will-”

“Just a weird double feature is all.” He says, hands up and Tiffany hums, “Unconventional certainly but I am more than willing.”

The VHS was slid into the VCR and the positions had changed on the couch, you were at one end, back against the arm rest, legs stretched over Tiffany’s lap she is leaning against Chucky as he is resting against the other end of the couch. You feel even more at ease, knowing you were spending the night, having your first sleepover with them, movies and dinner and drinks was the perfect recipe for relaxation.

You felt good, not really tipsy or even buzzed but rather light, happy, the wine they selected was great. 

Chucky spoke up first, the same pattern as the last movie, talking about it as it went on, “These kids got some good insults.” Tiffany exhaled amusedly, “Yeah you really have to step it up.”

“Can’t be outshined by a gaggle of twelve-year-olds in the fifties, think of your rep Charles.” You tease and he gags, “Ugh, can we not?” 

“What no Charles?” You ask and he says, “I’d rather we didn’t.” 

“Touchy, touchy. But fine.” You conceded.

It was quiet for a while until he spoke up again. “Christ, everyone is doing it in this damn movie, I want a smoke.”

Tiffany carefully moved your legs off her lap, “Me too, open the window.” He gets up and goes over to the window and does so carefully, it is still coming down so he opens it just enough for a small crack to blow smoke out of. Both he and Tiffany have a smoke while standing on either side of the window, still in view of the tv. 

“Train dodge?” Tiffany asked, shocked as three out of four friends tried to get the last one off the tracks, trying to explain why attempting to dodge the train was a terrible idea, and Chucky laughed on the exhale, “Oh this kid is gonna die.” You agree with a chuckle, “One hundred percent.” 

You all watch as Chris manages to yank him off the tracks before disaster can strike and Chucky’s hands cup around his mouth as he calls, “Booooo, you shoulda let him try.” You laugh, “Is the body they are going to see not enough?”

He is musing as you all watch, “You know I’ve always wanted a dog-” Tiffany cuts him off, “So no pet bunny but we can get a dog you can train to bite balls off, real fair.” You are laughing hard, “My God what a sentence.” 

“You would do that.” Tiffany said and Chucky asked, “Spit in your face? I mean, only if it got you off.” She bit back with, “Like it doesn’t get you off.” Causing Chucky to say, his fingers brushing over her cheek, the action soft and in no way matching his tone, “Never said it didn’t, I was only concerned for you.” 

“Mmm real concerned, I’m sure.”  Said Tiffany. Those moments you see between the pair of them are some of your favourites when sharing time together, the easy air and banter they share is amazing, you hope to reach a similar level one day. 

You speak up, “You think the body is gonna be gross?” Chucky responded in turn, “I mean we can only hope.” 

While watching the older group of guys in the gang carving into each other, Chucky asked Tiffany, “Should we brand each other?” She laughs as if the idea is hilarious, “Yeah, I’ll get your name right over my heart, how’s that sound?” You all share a laugh over that.

You mused after a while, during a lull with a sigh, “Bull-true. I love that.” Chucky asked, “That gonna end up in your daily lexicon?” You say, “It might.” He takes the chance for the joke, “Bullshit.” Tiffany groans with a roll of her eyes as he is busy snickering over his own quip. 

The scene where the boys are crossing the train tracks over the river, nowhere to jump off without falling one hundred feet into the water you speak up, “You feeling this tension or just me?” 

Chucky responds with a nod, he is sitting more forward, eyes locked on the screen, “No, no, I'm feeling it.” And when the train actually did show up Tiffany was gripping your arm hard, pretty manicured nails biting into your bicep through the wool of your sweater, “Shit, shit, shit, fuck! Are they gonna make it?!” The level to which Tiffany is into the scene playing on screen makes a smile break out on your face even with all of the previously commented upon tension, she is so cute.

They manage to but just barely and you exclaim, “God, that was so good.” Tiffany gets up, “Stressful more like, I need another smoke.” 

The next few scenes were watched with them both at the window, indulging again. She says easily at one point between drags, “The word of the movie is sincerely.” He nods in agreement, “Seriously.” 

Watching the kids around the fire, you speak, asking, “I don’t smoke so I don’t get it but is a smoke post meal really that good?” Chucky and Tiffany moan in unison just as he is closing the window and they have finished their second smoke of the movie, “Ohhh my Godddd-” she calls and him following up with, “Yes, yes yes-”

Their impassioned reaction gets another laugh from you, true you didn’t get it first hand but they sure got the point across. 

Dinner was finally ready and you all ate in front of the tv as you did so, not wanting to interrupt the movie. It was really fucking good, you were impressed at the skill she displayed, you wished you knew how to make something this good. The fact she liked the dinner you made for them made you happy considering her own cooking ability. “Tiffany this is fantastic, and you just did this today?” 

She shrugged as if it was no big deal, “Yeah this afternoon before you got here. I can show you how sometime, maybe have a date cooking together.” Chucky piped up, “I’m all for it.” 

“Pfft, no shit, we do the work and you get to eat.” Tiffany laughed.

As the boys finished crossing the river, Tiffany groaned, “Oh nooooo, not leeches.” And Chucky states firmly, “This is why you will never, ever catch me swimming in a river.” 

And finally the boys had reached the end of their journey and you spoke up, “Woah.”

Chucky was setting his plate aside, getting ready for that aforementioned post dinner smoke and his third of the movie, as he said, “There he is.” Tiffany asks, “What do you think? Worth it?” You shrug as you say, “I think it’s one of those things where it’s more about the journey than the destination.” 

A mutual hum of agreement as the pair are lighting up.

It is silent during Chris’ comforting and Tiffany said quietly, “This kid is a good friend.” Something you and Chucky both agree with.

When the ending finally comes there is much exclamation, “Chris became a lawyer oh my God-” And very shortly afterwards, “And he dies?!”

“You show us this movie, get us all invested and Chris bites it?” Chucky asked and you defended yourself, “Yeah years later-” He presses on, “The point still stands!”

The credits roll and as Tiffany is collecting up plates as she says, “Still hurts either way.” 

“That is the point though. This movie is like life, it’s happy but sad, funny but tragic, you know?” She concedes to you on that. Chucky turns to you, “These are the two weirdest movies you could have ever picked for our date night.” 

“But?” You ask and he follows up, “But so fun.” Tiffany calls over her shoulder as she carries messy plates to the kitchen, “So fun!”

“Seriously you should pick for movie nights more often.” He praises and you ask, “We wanna do this a lot more then?”

He shrugs and says easily, “Shit, I mean why not?” 

Why not indeed.

“Sooo the movies are all done, what do we want to do now, since I’m staying?” You ask and he says, “Cards and some tv?”

Sounded good to you, it was still a little early and so you all ended up sitting on the floor around the coffee table, some made for tv movie you didn’t care about providing background noise as you played. There was more conversation flowing over all manner of things, everything and nothing and whatever in between before another few hours later the decision to get into bed for the night was made. Tiffany loaned you something to sleep in, a rather large t-shirt that was warm and comfortable.

You were feeling tired but once you saw Tiffany’s choice in pyjamas, a tank top and short shorts you felt significantly more awake, looked like she had this set for a few years and it was criminally tight. You sat on the edge of the bed and joked, “So you saved the better pyjamas for yourself, I see how it is.” 

“Ha, hardly, you look good, really cute.” She said easily, she was putting her hair up as she sauntered over to you and keeping eye contact was difficult, something she picked up on as she said, “You know you can look, right? It’s kinda what I am hoping for when I wear something like this.” 

“Oh I know just what you mean.” You get bold and take what she said as an invitation to open your legs as your eyes drag over her curves. Your hand dropping down, you pull up the bottom of the t-shirt she loaned you and show off the frankly gorgeous lace and silk underwear you picked out hoping to impress her. Eyebrows raised and she says, “Yeah that is the kinda thing you wear when you wanna garner certain kinds of attention.” 

She finishes putting up her hair and you ask, “Well do I have your attention?” 

In place of a verbal response she leans down, hands rest on your thighs and she kisses you. The speed with which you return her affection is impressive, your hand lets go of the shirt and you reach out, hands on her biceps as you deepen the kiss and she hums into it. That is the moment you hear him come in, “Starting without me again. Is that the theme for tonight?”

You and Tiffany break the kiss with a laugh, big smiles as you look over Tiffany’s shoulder and she does the same, “You were taking too long and she showed me what she has on under this-” She pulled on the sleeve of the t-shirt you had on, “-and what am I supposed to do after that? Not kiss her?”

“Yeah, you snooze, you lose Chuck.” You tease and he comes over, “Apparently, and what exactly do you have on under this?”

He sits next to you on the bed, side saddle, one hand meets your knee and he makes a move to open your legs to get himself a peek and you forcefully keep your legs closed, pretending like you aren’t dying for him to see, “Ooh I dunno-”

“Tease.” He scoffs and Tiffany leans in again, she turns your face back to her, breaking the eye contact you had with Chucky and kissing you again, you melt in short order and focus on her instead. He is able to open your legs easily and when the fabric is pulled up he says, “Christ you weren’t kidding. How can any sane person with a heartbeat not want her after seeing that?”

The kiss was forcefully broken when he pushed you over onto your back and he climbed onto the bed. The action is surprising and honestly much too arousing, you like when he takes charge, the confidence works on him and you are into it. 

He is moving closer as he is talking, “You know, we kept on talking about you while we were away.” He leaned down and you asked, “Yeah?”

“Could not stop thinking about how that last date ended.” He admits and Tiffany agrees, her hands hadn’t left your thighs and they were moving upwards now. “You were too hot for words.” 

Her saying that about you? As she is bent at the waist, her finger starting to dip below the edge of your t-shirt, her ample cleavage on display from the angle, biting her bottom lip and that mischievous glint in her eyes, you think that “too hot for words” fits her much, much better. You still graciously accept the compliment on your oral skills and apparently how good you looked while doing it. 

“I can’t stop thinking about it either.” You divulge as their hands start wandering quickly, her fingers run over your hips before beginning to move back down and his hand is sliding up your side, thumb tracing the curve of your breast and you say, “I want to do more too if you both do-”

“You think we can resist when you are spending the night in our bed, especially wearing something like this?” Tiffany asks as her fingertips brush over the soft edges of the delicate material that was currently encasing your quickly dampening cunt. He was so close now as he told you, “Yeah c’mon, we are only human and we can only show so much restraint.”

Thank fucking God, this has been coming for way too long and with it being so explicitly stated means all bets are off, you can hardly wait to indulge but that doesn’t mean there is any reason to rush. 

You tell him, “So stop holding back.” Before your hand is on the back of his neck, leaning up the last bit, you kiss him, and even though you initiated that kiss, he is soon the one taking over and leading it. 

He clearly takes what you say to heart, they both do, because clothes are coming off in between heated kissing, his shirt and her shorts, and you take off the shirt Tiffany had loaned you, all in all you ended up wearing it for less than ten minutes and when it was taken off both of them pause. The bra was part of a set, it sat on your body beautifully but didn’t leave much to the imagination since the cups were sheer, intricate lace that matched the panties curling around the edges and framed your nipples. “God, she is asking for it, isn’t she?” 

You were.

Tiffany didn’t give much more than a hum with a nod in response, she was on her knees, kissing up your leg as her hand found its way in between, deft fingers stroke up and you arch into her touch. You were plenty warmed up, her fingers slide back down, more pressure and it draws from you a quiet exhale, head falling back and he takes the opportunity to kiss up your neck one of his hands feeling up your chest. His fingers get greedy, dipping into your bra, blunt nails catch on your hardening nipples and the small edge of pain the action provides makes the pleasure radiating out below your waist increase. Tiffany was very into her current task, head resting on your inner thigh, fingers touching, rubbing consistent and steady circles through the satin like fabric over your clit, taking in every reaction of your body as well as watching the sight of the wet spot steadily growing. 

“You good down there?” The question is spoken into the hollow of your throat, another kiss ending his sentence and making your breath stutter as her fingers press harder, she speaks, “So good.”

“I bet.” You feel his smile against your neck, fingers squeeze your nipple and he continues on, “Little known thing about Tiff is she looooves lingerie-”

“Really?” You ask breathlessly with a big smile, the wash of pleasure increasing between the pair of them working you over, “Guilty.” She sighs. 

“Maybe we should go lingerie shopping together sometime.” You suggest absentmindedly, the friction of the thin layer of fabric between your clit and her fingers is making it hard to breathe normally and Tiffany perked right up, fingers slowly slightly, “Oh you mean it?” 

“Yeah, I am sure you have all kinds of things you want to see me in.” You tease and Chucky chimes in, “Think we both have lots of things we want to see you in.”

Tiffany agrees and you ask, “Like?”

He huffs, teeth grazing your pulse point before he asked, “You want to keep talking or do you want to get fucked?” 

She was moving your underwear out of the way, fingers hook in the wet material and she pulls, her thumb stokes over your clit and you gasp out the answer they were hoping for, “Fucked, definitely fucked.” 

“God I cannot wait to see that.” Tiffany’s voice, Christ, it was enough to do your head in on an average day, but like this, almost naked, their hands all over, and the tone she spoke in, it clued you into how desperate she was for it, clearly she was being genuine. You had the smallest wondering if she had masturbated to the thought, the idea of her doing that at all, thinking of you getting railed by her boyfriend or otherwise has your hips bucking to get closer to her touch. Her other hand is on Chucky, nudging him and he takes the hint, he is still close to you but more on his back, his hands abandoning you for the time being, she is helping him out of the rest of his clothing. Her touch on you at this moment is light, rocking gently, you get lost in the feeling and before you know it he is completely naked. 

Your attention is drawn to this because of the groan he lets out, your eyes start at his face, the expression he is wearing is betraying what is already going on, but still you take your time to see it for yourself. You treat it as if it were something you had been greatly looking forward to, which to be honest, you had, allowing time to indulge, not wanting to ruin it by taking it in too quickly, appreciating it. Your eyes are raking down his chest and stomach to then see it live and in colour, Tiffany with one hand around his shaft and the head of his dick between those pretty kissable lips of hers. This is still so new but you sincerely doubt you are ever going to tire of seeing the pair of them be physical with each other. 

Now that she is in a good rhythm with him she picks up the pace on you once more, you had no idea that she was so good at multitasking. Between the pleasure she was foisting on you and the view and sounds of Chucky you can’t take it, you need more, you reach out, a hand meets his cheek and you bring his face over to you, initiating a deep kiss that both of you moan into. It continues on like that, the energy is impressive, all of you are feeding into each other, Tiffany’s tongue flicks over his tip and the inhale is draws from him makes more heat spark inside of you and kiss him deeper, the brush of his own tongue on yours makes you moan and causes her to redouble her efforts and it just doesn’t stop. In between kisses you ask, “How do you stand it?”

“Mmm? What you mean, ugh, her?” He laughs a little breathlessly, a groan spilling out after that and you nod, “Yeah, exactly, her, she’s too much.” 

Tiffany pulls up, he leaves her mouth with a wet pop and she teases, a call back to a previous joke he had made on your last date “The most.” 

You love this too much, the way that even with the hot and heavy atmosphere, feeling this good, you can all still joke around and keep it light. Your forehead leans against his as you snicker, “And funny too, you got yourself quite a catch.” 

“Yeah we lucked out big time.” He agrees, his mouth is back on yours and you feel yourself melting. 

“You flatter me so.” She sighs but your mind is caught up on the “we” still. You wonder if it was an accident or purposeful but him saying we in this context isn’t a small thing. No time to follow up or question however, Tiffany has two fingers sliding into you as she is back to sucking his dick and you are moaning with a grind of your hips to increase the feeling she gives. Between the hot and heavy make out you keep on stealing glances at her, whenever you and he break apart your eyes are drawn down to see how she is taking him nearly to the base with no issue. Her hand and mouth moving in tandem, you notice too that when she takes him as deep as she can that is when she curls her fingers into you, her thumb swirling over your clit while she pulls him out, the level of control she has over you and him is enough to leave you speechless. 

Unlike before you are leading the kiss now, keeping it fun, playful, ample moans and when you can manage to get the words out, scattered praise  for Tiffany is spoken until she is the one who can’t take it anymore, she is the one to push it further. She slides him out of her mouth, resting her head on his thigh, her hand still stroking him and her fingers curling into you again, “Are you both ready?”

“Oh you all needy, hon?” He asks with a surprisingly lack of condesension and a smile, she nods, “I want to see you fuck her.”

Heaven above how she says that, you clench on her fingers, speaking of his fingers, they brush over your cheek and while catching your gaze he asks, “Well? You ready?”

A bite of your bottom lip before you practically moan out, “God thought you’d never ask.” 

You were dying for this just as much as they both were, is it possible to be so hot and bothered that your own blood can threaten to boil you alive in your veins? You have no clue but the culmination of all this time with them about to come to a head, to get fucked by both of them, in their bed, a total dream come true, soaked and more than ready you don’t need the rest of your clothing.

Her hands slip away and his hands are on you, he helps you, taking care of your bra and you sliding your panties off, now completely bare and then he is helping move you how he wants.

Repositioning you is easy, you wonder if they had planned this because they both seem to be on the exact same page about just how they wanted to have you, not like you have any complaints about that. You are on your side, Chucky is behind you, his back practically to your chest  as Tiffany is getting onto the bed, taking her tank top off as she does so and now she is in just her panties and your eyes are wide, “Holy fuck-”

His chin on your shoulder, looking over to see the view of Tiffany in barely anything and he says, “I never, ever get tired of seeing that. Her body is fucking insane, those tits? I mean come onnn-” His hands are on you, the small shake as he moans that out makes you giggle. 

She is throwing the garment aside with a fond roll of her eyes and a smile on her lips, one hand in his hair, an arch of her back pushing her chest out further and she asks you softly, “You wanna touch?” 

You tell her, “If I ever say no to that I think you can assume something is seriously wrong with me.”  She scoots closer as she says with a smile, “Well go ahead.” 

You do as she encourages, one hand cupping her and she is impossibly soft and incredibly warm, she sighs, leaning more into your touch, eyes falling closed and your thumb circles one of her nipples. All of the nice tits comments and filthy compliments aside that you could tell her, instead you utter completely sincerely,  “You’re fucking beautiful. Just my God, Tiffany, you’re stunning.” 

Her smile widens and she looks almost shy? As if she wasn’t expecting you to say that, and certainly not so sweetly and earnestly, you sound practically awed and that gets to her. Makes her heart beat faster, she wonders if you can feel it as you explore. Shocking Chucky doesn’t make some kind of comment on this but you do feel him grind against you, his enjoyment of the view more than apparent.

You vaguely register him pulling away for the moment and hearing the sound of the nightstand drawer pulling open and snapping closed, Tiffany has gotten more comfortable, she is on her side in front of you, she had initiated another kiss as your fingers carefully pinched her nipple between two fingers and rolled it. His hands are on you once more and his hand is between your legs, starting to move, you take the hint, moving with him so he is holding your leg out of the way, your other leg resting tangled between his, chest to back and you feel him there, hard shaft grinds over your lips and you moan into her mouth. 

You break the kiss as his mouth is next to your ear, warm breath sends a shiver up your spine he is grinding against you, wetness from you spreading onto him, head of his dick bumping over your clit. Eyes flit down and you manage to catch a glimpse and the view is hot, you also realise why he leaned away before, while caught up playing with Tiffany he’d grabbed a condom. You were glad you didn’t have to ask, this was still so new, the first time you were doing this so of course it was a necessary precaution, who’s to say it will always be this way, if it is just you and Tiffany being with him there isn’t a reason to not feel him bare. 

It’s just another fun thing to look forward to honestly, this is just the first of many.

He doesn’t need to ask because you take the initiative, reach down, fingers meet his shaft and you tilt your hips back, the position just right you push back as he moves forward and finally starts to sink inside. Your eyes close with a sharp inhale, it doesn’t hurt, far from it with how prepared you are, the stretch of him sliding halfway in on that first stroke feels exquisite. You can feel Tiffany’s eyes locked on the point of connection between you and Chucky, his grip on your thigh near the back of your knee tightens, he pulls out most of the way before driving back in, deeper, causing you to take more and you moan his name softly. A few more purposeful rocks of his hips and he is completely inside, he exhales heavily into your ear, you feel his forehead rest against you, both soaking in the feeling for a moment before Tiffany’s hand on your cheek snaps you out of it. Your eyes open to see her right there, so close you can feel her body heat and she asks, “How’s it feel?”

You don’t know if it is meant to be directed at you or him but you both answer anyway. First you, choking out, “So good, so full-” and then him, “Tight, wet, amazing.” 

A steady pace is started, not fast or slow, a good even tempo that has you wanting to go limp in his grasp. One hand still occupied with holding your leg out of the way, his other arm was hooked around your body, over your shoulder, hand resting over your breasts, the extra point of contact makes it easier still to maneuver you, pull you down as he fucks up. Tiffany is watching intently, her bottom lip is tugged between her teeth, flushed cheeks and eyes flitting over, trying to capture every moment and movement and detail. She is really into this, you knew she would be but this is still a pretty big line to cross, fucking her boyfriend in their shared bed right in front of her, and there seems to be not a single hint of jealousy, no she loves it, that helps you sink even further into it. A turn of your head and you manage to catch his lips in a sloppy kiss, you start to move too, desperate to make this better, increase the feeling as you rock together. 

“He’s being so nice to you.” She praises and you break that kiss with a laugh, asking, “Is he us-usually me-an?”

He exhales amused and thrusts harder into you, “I can be.” He breathes that to you in a way that makes you clench around him, maybe you’d like him being mean to you. 

“M’ sure he won’t be able to be on his best behaviour forever.” Tiffany tells you and you want to sigh out, “Promise?” But instead an incoherent moan leaves you because Tiffany’s hands are getting back to work, fingers press to your clit and swirl making the euphoria spike aggressively. A weakened and hiccupping moan of her name as your movements become sloppy, trying to buck back onto Chucky is becoming more difficult with both of them so focused on you. 

“Fuck Tiff, keep going.” Was he reading your mind when he said that because you were about two seconds from begging for that yourself, his breathing is as laboured as yours. You didn’t think you’d last much longer like this at all and the small fact of that, of getting close makes it worse, unable to keep any of the sounds inside, moaning openly. Tiffany’s fingers working over your sensitive flesh as he continues to fuck into you, steady and deep strokes you are panting, your head raises from where it had been laying on Chucky’s arm that was still hooked around you, managing to catch his gaze. The eye contact is intense, the shared heavy breathing, bodies moving together and consistently getting better, adjusting and figuring each other’s bodies out, your eyes break away only for a second to catch Tiffany’s, she presses harder and you whine out that you are getting close. It is only a few minutes into this and you are threatening to fall apart between them, your hand catches the back of Tiffany’s neck, you pull her close, kissing her, tongue in her mouth and she returns your affection with a groan of her own. 

“Shit, you’re too hot-” Chucky pants out, his grip on your leg just might leave bruises, you don’t care as he fights to keep pace, “-practically stranglin’ me, so tight I can barely fuck-ing move.” 

You are right there, on the very edge, your mouth slips from hers, face buried in her neck and with the combination of one more purposeful thrust from him and a move of her hand you gasped out a pathetic warning of, “-cumming!”

“Yes, fuck yes, come on.” His encouragement fills your ears and makes your skin under his touch tingle. Before it happens, you slip and ecstasy overtakes, body tenses further, trembling as the weight of the feeling threatens to crush you, no real coherent sound, just pitched fluctuations of your breathing and murmurs that could be read as curses if you squint hard enough. You don’t think, you just feel, completely given over to the moment and to them. Her touch only begins to ease when your whimpering sounds like it is beginning to border on painful, he doesn’t relent though, it draws the remnants of your orgasm out for a long time, eventually you do regain some words, mostly it is his name, muttered between kisses you laid on Tiffany’s throat where your face is still buried. You can’t see but you are positive she is touching herself now, the way her moans are mixing with yours and his, how her body shudders, your tongue darts out and tastes the salt of her skin and she arches closer to you. 

Chucky’s entire body is nearly pressed to yours, he is talking again, fractured praise, “So good, I knew you would be but fuck, you-you’re-” His sentence trails off with another groan as his hips slam into yours but you don’t care, even without finishing the compliment it effects you deeply.

When she moves away you want to question it, want to ask what she is doing but it becomes clear in short order, she sinks down. Her hand that isn’t between her own is on your inner thigh, she managed to get in just the right position and she moved in, her lips press gently and carefully to your straining clit and your body reacts as if shocked, spasming with a cry, he must feel it too from the hiss he lets out. “Goddamn you just clenched so hard-”

Tiffany listens, her own fingers are moving quickly between her legs but her mouth moves faster, pretty pink tongue licks up over and over a few times, pulling delicious sounds from you whenever she does before her lips lock around the throbbing nub and she sucks. This one has very little build up, it seems one minute you aren’t and the very next you are, as if she forcefully dragged you to the edge and threw you over the cliffs edge into heaven in a few short minutes. You are calling her name, fingers tangled in soft blonde hair as you ground on her tongue and just when you’re orgasm is at its peak you push on her head, she doesn’t relent, she forces you to feel every single bit of it and only leaves you when she is satisfied with her work. 

You are still shaking, trying to breathe through the aftershocks when three last hard thrusts cause your whole body to move once more with his spell Chucky’s end, your name staining his tongue as he drives that last time to the hilt and holds as he spills into the condom. You feel him slightly trembling through his high and that makes you smile dreamily, feeling powerful you were able to do that, he released this huge breath and sighs as his body starts to go slack, “Jesus, holding out till you were done was practically torture.” 

You clear your throat, finding your voice you say, “M’ sure it’s the kinda torture you’ll happily come back for a second helping of.” 

He laughs breathlessly, “You’re not wrong.” 

The sentiment is nice, him caring enough to make sure you got yours before getting his, he slowly pulls out with a grunt and he lets go of your leg, your hand comes back, you rub your hip as you close your legs again, you feel incredible but this wasn’t over yet. He is on the same page as you because now that the condom was thrown away he was moving closer to Tiffany. She just did a ton of heavy lifting for you both, helped make the first time he fucked you incredible and saw to it that you and he came insanely hard and the only thing on both yours and his minds were returning the favor. You realised she was still wearing those panties and you had to do something about that. Your fingers hook into the sides of the thin material covering the last part of her and you begin to move it out of the way, sliding them down her thighs and exposing her to you. 

Keeping your mouth closed was impossible, it is involuntary, your lips parting slightly as seeing her totally bare and Chucky laughs, you look over to see him, head pitched forward, shaking his head slightly, fuck, his hair was a mess from how your hand was buried in it at one point while he fucked you. “What is so funny, Chuck?”

“Nothin’ just-” His hand runs through his hair before popping back up, sideways smile, as he says, “-I had that exact same look first time I saw her naked.” 

“Only the first time? Try every time.” Her tone is light but at the same time it is undercut with clear need, “Can you blame a guy? You look like you were ripped right outta a magazine.” 

He leaned down, a kiss to her forehead and you reached out, your hand touched down and her legs jerk at the feeling, she was drenched, absolutely soaked and as you learned within a minute, very responsive. You had just cum twice in pretty quick succession, you felt totally satisfied but she was changing that. He was kissing her, hand stroking over her neck and moving to play with her ample chest, you got more comfortable as you used your hands, your head was swimming, finally touching her after so long, hearing the sounds she made, how different touches made her react, you ended up pressing your thighs together when your fingers slipped into her, she gasped your name into his mouth and fuck, you did that. 

She felt incredible inside, slick, pulsing, tight, if it feels this good for your fingers to be inside her you can only imagine what it is like for him to fuck her. He is pulling away from her kisses to ask, “How’s she doing?”

“Amazing-” She sighed that out, lips parted and eyes half lidded in bliss, and he is ginning, “Yeah seems like.” 

He looks over to you and then sits up again, he motions for you to come closer, you do so, leaning nearer and not stopping touching, he whispers to you, telling you, “Make it like you are crossing your fingers like you’re lyin’, twist em back and forth and then curl them up and press hard.” 

Your nose wrinkles in confusion but you do as he suggests, upon you following his instruction,  her whole body bows and she cries out louder than you have ever heard previously, your eyebrows raise in shock and he teases, “Told ya.” 

It turns out that she didn’t need long, between him pinching her nipples, whispering more commands on just what to do, she is cumming on your fingers loudly within five minutes. You wished you looked half as good as she does when she cums, you are totally captivated, the way her body rolls and the moans she lets out, it’s nothing short of pure art. 

Her hand locks on your wrist and she begs, “Please, stop, fuck-”

You do, you’d been so caught up in her that you hadn’t let up for a second, overstimulation must have been setting in hard, poor thing, you slowly and reluctantly pull your fingers out. Before you get the chance to taste her he is pulling your fingers into his mouth and your mouth drops in shock, “You asshole! I worked hard for that treat-”

Your fingers pop out and he says wetly, “You want it? Come get it.”

“You’re such a bitch.” You sighed but you still pulled him nearer and kissed him either way. Sharing the taste of her when you kissed him might just be one of your new favourite things. When the affection finally reached a natural end, Tiffany said, “My legs might not be working right now but don’t leave me out.”

You and Chucky oblige. You both kiss her, one after the other and wrap her up in your arms. Sweaty and tangled limbs all cuddling on top of the messed up sheets as you relax and breathng slowly starts to even out. "That was-" You start, voice trailing off.

"Is there no words, again?" Tiffany asks and you say, "Nope! I swear to God I have a good vocabulary, my brain just doesn't work after what you both do to me."

"Awe yeah sweet thing, you are real smart, we both know it." Tiffany praised. "Fucking you dumb is a good pass time." He muses as he presses a kiss to your cheek.

The come down takes a long while. The bedroom window is cracked the smallest amount possible because it got stiflingly hot in the room as well the snow still coming down so hard making opening it any further a stupid idea. The pair of them doing what you has to assume is their normal ritual post fuck, both lighting up for another cigarette. You were still naked but actually in bed now, under the sheets and just watching them. Sitting up in the low lamp light, easy conversation and joking between the pair, she had his shirt on and he’d tugged his underwear back on, both their hair a mess and you just felt happy. Really fucking happy. 

Nowhere to be, just soaking up the moment with them. He asks, “Is there any of that lasagna left?”

“What are you hungry at this time of night?” She asks on an exhale of smoke and he says, “Yes I am, all that really took it out of me.” 

“Sex like that is hungry work, I have to say I could do with a snack myself.” You say and between the pair of you she can’t say no. So at nearly three AM, smokes finished, the three of you are sitting up in bed and sharing a plate of lasagna, by the time you all do fall asleep it’s almost four and you are thoroughly exhausted and slotted between them, you are positive this has to be the best sleepover you’ve ever had. 

Would it be weird to send a thank you letter to the weather station for getting the forecast so wrong and making all this happen? Probably. And yet you were still considering it. 

[queer-reader-07]

I'll help you procrastinate!

What were your favorite books as a child, and what are your favorite books now?

Also, I need book recs. Preferably fantasy or sci-fi, but I'm not opposed to other genres.

you, my friend, have no idea what you've just gotten yourself into

my favorite childhood books were definitely the Magic Treehouse books and Percy Jackson! (although i'm still a huge Rick Riordan fan to this day)

i say my number one spot is tied between The Feeling of Falling in Love by Mason Deaver (a truly beautiful YA t4t romcom that i WILL peddle until my dying breath). and Dune by Frank Herbert! (the duality of man, if you will). i've written many a long winded pieces on Dune but if you haven't read it already go do that <3

i also read a lot more nonfiction nowadays, usually feminist & liberationist literature & memoir! (and ofc my fair share of romcoms and occasional litfic... as i say this i'm realizing that aside from horror i kind of read it all 😅)

SFF book recs!! (i'll throw in some other genres at the end if you do decide to branch out 👀)

i am a HUGE Octavia Butler fan so i'm going to recommend Dawn & The Parable of the Sower

Dawn is the first in the Xenogenesis/Lilith's Brood series (and i will admit that i have yet to read the sequels, don't come for me i'm ass at finishing series). I love this novel for how it discusses what it means to be human through explorations of race and gender in the wake of an apocalyptic event. I'd also class this novel under "it's about hope if you pay attention enough" which is a huge thing for me

The Parable of the Sower is part of a duology (which i have finished!) although was meant to be a longer series, unfortunately Butler passed before finishing it. this is the book that had me going "this woman is a prophet" because of how much the events of the novel remind me of the modern day. set in the 2020s in the wake of climate and economic collapse, we follow Lauren, a teenager with hyper empathy (a condition she has due to her mom's drug use during pregnancy) as she not only works to survive in a crumbling society but also build a new future for humanity. this is another story that i believe is at its core about hope, but that specific kind of hope that can only exist because of the despair one has experienced. a hope borne out of a refusal to accept destruction as the only way forward. a hope borne out of a love for humanity.

A Psalm for the Wild Built by Becky Chambers!!! this is a soft, quiet, tender story about a robot who just wants to learn what humans need. and this robot starts to learn that when it encounters a monk who just wants to be in the wilderness alone to find their true calling in life.

Babel by RF Kuang is one of those books that i will fully admit is a tad bit condescending to the reader but nonetheless i find it a great and engaging place to start when it comes to literature that explores the violent ramifications of colonialism. like yes it overexplains things that i think could've been left to subtext, but i will also point to it before i point to academia, ya know?

The Ninth Rain by Jen Williams follows a main character who is like if Indiana Jones was a Black lesbian in a fantasy world and better. i call this one "not necessarily adventure gone wrong but rather adventure became far larger and graver than you could have ever imagined." empires on the brink of collapse, a species of creatures people don't quite understand are about to return, and the ninth rain is imminent. (also part of a series i have yet to finish, im sorry!!)

Masters of Death by Olivie Blake. this one has NG vibes but is written by a markedly better person!! the godson of Death, a vampire real estate agent trying to sell a house and a ghost haunting said house (he's quite the pain in the ass if you ask her), and some really high stakes games involving the literal gods; what could possibly go wrong? (specifically recommending the audiobook for this one, it was phenomenal!) (this one is also very gay!!)

ok now i'm gonna throw some non sff at you to try to get you out of your comfort zone :)

On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong is a heartwrenching memoir-esque narrative of a queer boy writing to his mother in a language he knows she cannot read. it tells the story of what it's like to be an immigrant and the child of one, of what it means to be queer in a culture that doesn't accept you. it is, at its core, a story about the urgency of survival and the anguish of love that explores how we find joy in this broken mess of a world. (i read this one in a Gender in Lit and Film class i took my freshman year of highschool for a unit on masculinity and it has 100% shaped how i view and interact with masculinity especially in regards to race)

in a similar vein but not quite i'll also recommend Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin. written in the 50s, this is a heartbreaking story to two queer men falling passionately in love only for it all to be ripped apart. i've recommended this book before alongside the lyrics to Good Luck Babe! by Chappell Roan. "you can kiss a hundred boys in bars // shoot another shot just to stop the feeling // you'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling"

The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett is a novel i read right around when it came out back in 2020 and i really ought to revisit. it is, in my opinion, one of the best fictional explorations of what it means to be a mixed race person in the US. Bennett explores race in the United States through two twin sisters, both biracial, one who lives her life in the town they grew up in as a Black woman and the other out west as a White woman. told throughout generations their lives become more and more intertwined (were they ever really separate?).

probably my favorite memoir of all time is A Mind Spread Out on the Ground by Alicia Elliot which explores race, gender, colonization, and more through the lens of Elliot's experience as a mixed race, First Nations Indigenous woman. the title comes from the Mohawk phrase for depression and it is with the same urgency and feeling that that phrase evokes that Elliot writes all her essays with. I particularly think of her essay titled "Half Breed: A Racial Biography in Five Parts" because its exploration of the grief only felt by being mixed or having mixed children is deeply personal to me. however, all her essays have so much depth and emotion to offer.

i'm not sure if romance novels or YA contemporary are your thing but if you're interested shoot me another ask about those, didn't include them here since those are more "you like em or you don't" imo

ok that's all for now thank you for providing me this distraction and giving me a chance to go full special interest on you <33