#he had a 2 year plan going where he was going to make a funny joke once every 2.5 weeks and thereby become Important to max | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

leclercsixteen · 20 days ago

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𝒆𝒗𝒐𝒓𝒂’𝒔 (𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒙’𝒔) 𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 ! ᶜˡ¹⁶

let me be the one to hold you ⋆˙⟡

𝓬harles leclerc x 𝒔ingle dad!reader synopsis: evora is the daughter of famous formula one driver y/n l/n. she is tired of the secret glances shared between her dad and charles leclerc, so she recruits her dad’s teammate and does something about it. aka the 2 times evora and max try to get y/n and charles together, and the 1 time it (kind of) works.

genre: fluff, humor warnings: lowercase intended

author’s note: in evora’s (reader’s daughter) pov cause its funny. also, strap in, this is going to be long. max and evora world domination???

masterlist. navigation.

EVORA WAS A MASTERMIND. y/n claims that she gets it from her dad, but everyone knew that she took after her mother in that aspect. she got mostly everything else from her dad; his nose, his hair, his goofy personality, and his love for formula one. she was only 7 years old, but she knew that she loved those italian cars her dad and her dad’s best friend drove.

speaking of her dad and her dad’s best friend, she was currently at lunch with them. it was supposed to be a special day for her, as she just turned 7 years old and graduated kindergarten, but her eyes were narrowed at her dad and his friend as they made conversation with each other and not with her.

if she could throw a fork at them, she would, but she knew it would just end up with her getting scolded. she was a smart kid—or preteen, if you asked her. evora sighed and she looked around at the restaurant that surrounded her, her dad and his friend—might as well be her two dads at this point.

while—for now—evora knew charles leclerc as uncle charlie, y/n knew him as something more, and it was so obvious to everyone except charles that even evora, a seven year old, picked it up. y/n knew him as just charles, the man who helped him with evora and focusing on formula one, even if he didn’t want to know him as more.

it was a two way street as charles looked at evora’s dad like he hung the moon and stars. it was disgusting and somewhat annoying to evora. her mom hadn’t been in her life since she was born, so all she knew was her dad and charles. it’s been 7 years and they haven’t done anything on making the first move. evora was determind to make that happen.

EVORA’S GUIDE TO LOVE:

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑶𝑵𝑬: ❪ valentines day ❫

THE FIRST STEP to evora’s guide to love needed reinforcements. it was the first of february and she sat in her room with her ipad in her hands as she planned out her plan, which consisted of weird and poor drawings in her notes app that were supposed to resemble her dad and charles. she tapped on the pink case of her ipad as she thought about who should she reach out to.

suddenly—after a notification popped up from her dad letting her know that he was on his way home with dinner—she had an aha moment and she quickly got to work. she put her ipad down and slid off of her bed and walked into the living room where max verstappen, her designated babysitter when charles wasn’t available, sat on the couch on his phone.

“uncle max,” she said as serious as she could. he looked up from his phone with furrowed brows. a smile took over his face as he noticed the very serious look on the young girls face. her hands were on her hips and her lips were pursed as she awaited for a response from max.

“yes, eva?” he asked as he put his phone off to the side. his arms were crossed, but his posture straightened slightly.

“i need your help with something,” evora said as she walked closer to the couch where he sat. “i’m trying to get my dad and charles together, but i can’t do it without any help,” she said as he climbed up onto the couch and sat next to max, her legs crossed as she faced him.

max wasn’t the least bit surprised, and was actually pretty excited. he knew that there had to be something going on between y/n and charles and he wanted to be there when the two realized it. “alright, what do you need from me, eva?” he asked as he turned his body and uncrossed his arms.

“valentines day,” she started, “i will be busy with my red bull valentines box for school so i need your help. you need to get my dad or uncle charlie to get the other chocolate or flowers.” she was only 7 yet she knew the stereotypical gifts for valentines day.

max should be surprised, yet, once again, he wasn’t. every driver on the grid knew how smart evora was and were convinced that she was going to harvard or mit for something, or at least become a formula one driver or engineer.

“sounds like a plan,” max nodded in determination. “how about this, i get charles to get your dad stuff and you get your dad to get charles stuff.”

“hmm,” evora hummed and she looked away in thought, her pointer finger coming up to tap on her chin. “i might be able to fit time into my schedule for that,” she nods as she looks back at max. her face was covered with determination. she needed these two to fall in love or else she would run away and live with max so she didn’t have to deal with their annoying behavior.

“lock it in, eva,” max held up his pinkie and she quickly wrapped her own pinkie around his, locking in the plan. pinkie’s aren’t only used for prinkie promises, they’re also used to finalize plans in the f1 grid; thanks to evora, of course.

y/n walked in the door soon after they locked in phase one of get y/n and charles together. his hands were filled with grocery bags, which was the main reason why max had to sit in the luxurious living room of y/n and evora’s house. “hey max, hey evora,” y/n huffed as he heaved all of the bags onto the island counter top in the kitchen. he came from a one trip family and he will continue his legacy.

“hi dad!” evora smiled as she slipped off the couch and made her way over to the kitchen. max followed suit and began to slide his shoes on that were sitting by the front door that y/n just flung open.

“you need me for anything else, y/n?” max asked even though both of his shoes were fully on and he was reaching into the cup by the front door that held car keys and sticks of chapstick that y/n has found over the past couple of months.

y/n looked over his shoulder as he handed evora a couple of things to slide onto the bottom shelf of the fridge. “nah, you’re all good, max. thanks for hanging with evora,” he smiled as he was plenty grateful for his fellow driver. y/n then looked over at evora who shut the fridge door after putting everything she had in there, “what do you say to uncle max?”

evora smiled and ran to max, running straight into his legs. he laughed and he crouched so they could have a comfortable hug.

“i’m counting on you,” she whispered in his ear. he figured it was supposed to be a threatening message, but it was hard for evora to be seen as threatening as she was the embodiment of everything good in the world.

so, max just laughed and nodded. “you can count of me, superstar,” he smiled and waved at evora as he stood and stepped out of the front door. he quickly closed it behind him as he started to make his way out to his car.

“evora, wanna help more?” y/n asked from the kitchen as he pulled everything out of the bags so it was easier to pick things up and bring them to their designated spot in the kitchen. he didn’t get a verbal answer, but the rapid footsteps running towards the kitchen was his answer that he took as a ‘yes’.

once evora was at his side, he handed her a box of cheez-it’s and scooby snacks. “bottom of the pantry, thank you, eva,” he smiled as she quickly grabbed the boxed and made her way over to the pantry, which was like a small closet that they turned into their own pantry. she put the boxes on the bottom shelf and quickly made her way back to her dad.

time to initiate phase one.

“dad?” evora asks as she climbs onto one of the bar stools that sat at their island, y/n held the other side so she wouldn’t fall backward from causing the stool to lean her way.

“yes?” he asked. y/n started to move around the kitchen as he put the groceries where they belonged. he left out some ingredients that he was going to use for dinner, but other than that, everything went to their specific spot.

“do you have a valentine this year?” evora asks innocently as she smiled to herself. to her, the plan was moving flawlessly already, even if there wasn’t much for her to go off on as she just asked one question.

y/n furrowed his brows as he was confused where that question was coming from, especially from his daughter who was never particularly interested in love or anything like that. he leaned against the island across from evora, “i don’t. why do you ask?” his head was tilted slightly, which made evora think of leo, charles’s dog.

“i think that you should ask uncle charlie to be your valentine,” she smiled as she leaned against the island as well. the plan was moving smoothly, she thought. evora had y/n wrapped around her finger and she knew that, so he would probably do anything for her.

y/n laughed in surprise. “what..what—why do you say that?” he stumbled over his words as he shifted his weight to his left leg from his right. he had a smile, but it was nervous. evora couldn’t tell that, but she knew there was something suspicious about it.

“you and uncle charlie both don’t have valentines yet, i think, so you should be each other’s valentine!” she bounced in her seat and smiled brightly like it was the best idea that she ever came up with—and to her, it was.

y/n laughed and shook off the idea, but a pink blush rose to his cheeks. he shook his head, “you have a good imagination, eva. but, i don’t think that’s going to happen.” he turned and evora’s smile dropped. her brows furrowed and she crossed her arms.

𝑴𝑬𝑨𝑵𝑾𝑯𝑰𝑳𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑴𝑨𝑿…

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑻𝑾𝑶: ❪ bahrain ❫

EVORA WAS DECKED out head to toe in Red Bull gear; from her blue socks to her hat that was embroidered with her last name. she sat happily on her dad’s shoulders as they walked through the busy paddock and towards the red bull garage. it was thursday, so she and max had a couple of days to pursue their plan.

when they arrived to the red bull garage. evora smiled when she spotted the ferrari garage to the left of red bull's. she waved excitedly when she noticed charles stepping out out of the red garage; the ferrari driver smiled and waved back.

he has no idea, she thought to herself when y/n slid her off of his shoulders so they could walk through the garage door without her getting a concussion from the low door height. she ran in before her dad and greeted all of the engineers that she recognized from last season and introduced herself to the ones that she didn't.

y/n shook his head and laughed as he followed closely behind his daughter. it was hard to not have a smile on his face whenever he was around evore; her happiness and excitement rubbed off on him.

later, while y/n was driving through his first free practice, y/n sat in the corner of the red bull garage next to max. his race suit was sitting at his waist as evora sat on his lap with a ziploc bag filled with scooby snacks. he held the bag while she continuously dug her hand in the bag and pulled out a bone that she quickly shoved into her mouth.

"i think we should do it after qualifying tomorrow," max muttered as he pulled out his phone and looked at the times for qualifying tomorrow. "or we can do it before the third practice," he said as he scrolled through the timesheet. "that's at 15:30," evora turned around and looked at max with narrowed eyes (she had yet to master the 24 hour time, despite everybody around her using the 24 hour time and not the 12 hour time) and he sighed, "sorry. it's at...i think that's 3:30 pm? so we could do it in the morning?"

evora turned back around and her eyes scanned the red bull garage. she nodded, "that sounds good. we could plan something in the morning with my dad, you, me, and charles and then force them into a room or just leave them alone."

max chuckled and shook his head. the mastermind that evora was always made him proud, no matter what she put her mind to or what she was planning.

"we could go out for brunch and then you could say you need the bathroom and for me to come help or something and then we just leave them at the table," max laughed as evora immediately nodded. he got to work and started to search for brunch places nearby. "sounds like a plan, then. we can talk to your dad and charles when they're done with their first practice session."

turns out, it was a good idea, as y/n and charles quickly agreed to it. so, the next morning at 10 am, the four of them found themselves at a local brunch place that was mostly empty. y/n and evora sat on the same side of the table while charles and max sat on the other; charles and y/n sitting right across from each other.

"what can i get for you?" the waitress smiled softly as she glanced around the group of 4.

y/n nudged evora's arm and nodded toward the kids menu she held. she smiled up at the waitress, "i'm going to do the sprinkled pancakes please." the waitress smiled and nodded, writing it down on her note pad before moving onto y/n.

the three drivers all order their food after evora did. when the waitress left, y/n and charles quickly busied themselves with a conversation about practices and what they think is going to happen at qualifying. evora rolled her eyes and glanced at max who was doing the same thing.

while y/n and charles yapped to their sides, evora and max laughed over the drawings that they were adding to the back of evora's paper menu with the colorful crayons she was given. she drew a mix of a red bull and ferrari car while max added a yellow trophy and sun in the corner of the paper with blue sunglasses.

their food was delivered soon and their plates were devoured almost as fast. evora had a small plate of 2 small pancakes while different proteins and sugary pastries decorated the plates of the 3 drivers.

once their food was finished and their plates were cleaned, evora and max made eye contact and they nodded as if they were visually planning a heist.

"uncle max?" evora asked, smiling as y/n glanced over at her. max hummed in question. evora believed they should be actors. "can you take me to the bathroom?" max hummed again, but this time in agreement. he stood and placed the napkin that was on his lap on his empy plate and evora did the same. "we'll be back," she smiled at her dad and charles as they made their way to the entrance of the restaurant, which was conveniently next to the bathrooms.

the two looked over their shoulders and when they realized y/n and charles weren't looking over at them, they quickly snuck out of the restaurant. while they drove over in the morning, max noticed a park, so they started to make their way over there to wait until y/n and charles realized they were gone.

after a couple of minutes had passed, y/n looked down at his watch. his brows furrowed.

"what's wrong?" charles asked, his brows furrowing as well as his eyes fell to y/n's watch. he guessed he hadn't realized how much time has passed since max and evora left.

"it's been more than a couple of minutes since max and evora left for the bathroom..." y/n trailed off as he glanced over towards the bathroom, but he had no view of max or evora anywhere. he hummed and pulled out his phone from his pocket. he opened up max's text messages.

y/n sighed and shook his head. he looked up and raised his hand toward their waitress, motioning for the bill.

"what did he say?" charles asked, tilting his head.

"evora saw a cat outside and he said she ran out and they go caught up with some fans that wanted some pictures," y/n rolled his eyes. he smiled when the waitress came up to them with the bill. he just handed her his card and smiled as she walked away with it. "those two have been weird lately. been interacting too much to be normal," y/n shook his head.

"i think you're reading into it," charles laughed. "just be happy that you are getting some quiet time," charles smiled and his hand reached forward, taking y/n's hand in his.

"you're annoying," y/n chuckled and took his hand away when the waitress came back with his receipt.

𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑬𝑬: ❪ summer break, monaco ❫

IT HAD BEEN a couple of months since evora and max’s last (and failed) attempt at getting y/n and charles together. it was grueling work and their lives became busy as the formula 1 season started to kick into gear. the silverstone grand prix weekend just ended with a beautiful win by lewis hamilton and podium finish by max. oh and lando was there too.

but, now all 20 formula 1 drivers took advantage of the break they had between silverstone and hungary. y/n, charles, max, and evora all celebrated theirs in monaco, much like most of the other drivers on the grid.

the first couple of days of their break, though, was spent apart from each other. y/n and evora relaxed in their home and did not talk one lick about formula 1.

that wednesday is when they got together again with the rest of their infamous quartet (max and charles). they all relaxed on the monaco native’s boat (honestly, yacht would be a better descriptor). max and evora lounged on the front of the boat while y/n and charles spoke further back on the boat. they whispered.

“i think they’ve been trying to get us together,” y/n whispered to charles with a laugh. he covered his mouth with his drink as he chuckled.

“really?” charles asked with a smile. y/n and charles had gotten together last year but didn’t know how to break it to evora or their fellow drivers. it was a hard conversation as they still had to come out about their sexualities as well.

y/n pulled out his phone from his trunks pocket. he opened up photos and turned his phone around and handed it to charles, “i found this text message chain between max and eva.” he chuckles as he watches charles laugh to himself as he read the messages.

“they’re funny,” charles hands y/n his phone back and shakes his head. he looks over to max and evora as they talk quietly to themselves as well, most likely planning their next scheme. “we should play along,” he looks back to y/n with a smile. “next time they do something, we should go along and then tell them we’re dating.”

y/n smiles and nods, “okay. if you’re ready.”

“i am,” charles smiled and nods as well. his hand reached forward and his pointer finger touched y/n’s briefly. a secret and vulnerable smile was shared between the two.

evora looked over her shoulder to make sure y/n and charles weren’t looking over at her and max before turning back to max. “okay, we need to plan something good this time,” she grumbles. usually, her plans worked out very well, so this was different for her.

max nodded, “i agree.” he looked out to the water and hummed. “i don’t think leaving them out in the sea would be a good idea…” he trailed off, but smiled when evora started to giggle at the idea. “okay, really. should we plan a romantic dinner for the two of them but we just…don’t show up?”

“what about a blind date!” evora grinned and max’s brows furrowed.

“how do you know what a blind date is?” he asked as he tilted his head.

“my dad watches a lot of trashy reality tv,” evora giggled. “you can tell them separately that you think they should find somebody and that you know someone and set them up on a blind date and they show up to each other!”

max smiled, “you are too smart ms. evora.” he poked her nose and he pulled his phone out after. he startsd to research romantic and expensive restaurants in monaco he could put in a reservation at.

“what do you think they’re planning?” charles whispered to y/n as they watched evora excitedly nod and max point at his phone screen, which was too dark for them to read in the sun.

y/n shrugged and chuckled. “who knows with those two?”

it was only a couple of nights later when y/n was getting dressed in a nice button down and slacks while max and evora hung out in his living room. he knew he was meeting up with charles, despite max saying it was a blind date, because he and charles immediately texted each other after max texted them separately.

he readjusted his collar before stepping out of his room and into the living room. max immediately wolf whistled when y/n walked into the room, causing a blush to rise up his neck.

“look at you!” max chuckled. “guess you dress up nice, huh?”

“shut up, verstappen,” y/n shook his head as he slid on his dress shoes. “you already sent me the address, right?” y/n looked over to max, to which he received a nod. evora was smiling right next to max. “alright, i’ll see you two later!”

“bye dad!”

“see you later, y/n!”

the two masterminds on the couch shouted before y/n shut the door. they grinned at each other before high fiving. if any of their plans worked, it was going to be this one.

y/n arrived to the restaurant before charles did. he asked for the reservation in max’s name and was quickly brought to a two person table. he didn’t have to wait long before the host was bringing charles over. he smiled and stood to greet charles, and even went as far as pulling charles’s chair out and pushing it back in for him.

“i can’t believe max planned this,” charles chuckled and looked around the restaurant. “perks of being a 3 time world champion, i guess.”

“for sure,” y/n nodded along. “at least we don’t have to pay for a thing.”

“most expensive wine, then, mr. y/l/n?”

“i like your style, mr. leclerc.”

the night passed by quickly with max and evora playing on y/n’s racing sim and y/n and charles eating the most expensive food on the menu. y/n slid out max’s card when it was time to pay for the bill, and he didn’t even dare glance at the price of the meal as charles looked at him over his glass of wine.

evora laid impatiently on the couch, “ugh when are they going to be done?”

max looked at his phone once he got a notification. he was expecting a text from y/n cursing him out or saying he was on his way back home, but no. it was a bank notification.

“oh those cheeky,” max laughed and cut himself off. he shook his head and rolled his eyes. he should’ve known those cheeky fucks would spend his entire bank account. “your dad is a gold digger, eva,” max shook his head.

“i’m not surprised,” evora mumbled from her spot on the couch. they were clueless to the exchange that was currently happening charles’s car as he drove y/n back home.

y/n looked over at charles from his spot in the passenger seat. “would you want to come in? and we can tell them now?” he asked, a soft smile on his face. charles smiled as well and his hand reached out and took y/n’s in his.

“i would love to.”

it’s safe to say that evora and max were surprised when the two broke the news to them. they sat next to each other on the couch while charles and y/n sat next to each other on the coffee table. max and evora’s jaws were dropped.

“you were dating the whole time?” max asked as he looked between charles, y/n, and their intertwined hands.

“yes, we were,” charles smiled and nodded as he looked over to y/n. y/n smiled back softly. “are you okay with this, evora?” charles asked as he looked to y/n daughter. she wore the same expression as max.

“are you kidding?” she exclaimed. “i made this whole elaborate plan to get you two together, but you were already together? oh my—“ she covered her face with her hands and groaned. but then, she laughed. evora uncovered her face, “of course i’m okay with it!” she jumped forward and hugged charles and y/n.

even if their efforts were unneeded, it is still safe to say that evora is a mastermind. with later asked questions from y/n, she came to the conclusion that something needed to happen after she watched the parent trap one night that max came over to babysit.

a/n: this was so much fun to write and i hope you guys enjoyed it! i put a lot of work into this haha. i actually started this before valentines day and just now finished it.

maybe i’ll bring evora back for a later fic if you guys love this ��

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estrellami-1 · 1 year ago

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Ten Minutes

Didn’t love this when I first wrote it. Left it in my drafts for a LONG freakin’ time. Found it again and no longer care, so here yall go; have fun! Probably not a part 2 to this one.

Steve takes a breath, then another, as he waits for the line to connect. He grits his teeth, feeling eyes on him. He does his best to ignore them.

“Munson residence, if you’re calling about the murders I’ve been absolved of, try going to hell instead.”

“I need you to pick me up.”

A pause. “Stevie?”

Steve takes another breath. Tries to unclench his jaw. “Please.”

“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right there- what-”

“My parents are in town.”

Another pause. “I’ll be there in ten. Try not to kill them.”

Steve laughs humorlessly. “Just hurry.”

“Ten minutes,” Eddie says, and hangs up.

Steve sighs, places the phone in its socket, and turns back to face his parents.

His mother is narrowing her eyes at him. “Who was that?”

“A friend,” he says lightly.

“Who, that Hagan boy?” His father scoffs.

“No. Not Tommy. I haven’t spoken to him in years.”

“Oh, Steve,” his mother tuts. “Always so dramatic. We’ve not even been gone a year-”

Steve laughs. It sounds hollow. “Try four years,” he informs her. “And three concussions. Did you hear about the mall two years ago? Or the boy who went missing four years ago?” He shakes his head when his mother looks at him blankly. “That’s what I thought.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” his father snaps. “And don’t you dare speak to your mother in that tone again, Steven. You’re still a child and I won’t hesitate to reprimand you as such.”

“I’m twenty,” Steve says evenly. “I’ll be twenty-one in five months.” He crosses his arms. “The last time you saw me, I was a freshman in high school. I’ve graduated. I found jobs. Lost some friends and made some better ones.”

“And what of that girl you were dancing around?” His mother asks. “Karen’s daughter?”

“We’re friends,” he says shortly, then moves through the kitchen, to the stairs. “Excuse me.”

“No,” his father says. “You’re not excused. Where do you think you’re going?”

Steve turns, one hand on the bannister, to look at the man who had terrified him the last time he’d seen him. It’s funny what interdimensional threats will do. “To pack a bag. I’m not going to stay here while you are.”

“And if I were to say we’re staying for good?”

Steve laughs. “Dad, you’ve said that before. Multiple times, actually. Those words mean nothing to me anymore.”

“And where are you planning on staying?” His mother asks. “Honestly, Steven, I thought we raised you to make better decisions than this.”

“Oh, I see. So it was raising me when I woke up at nine years old to discover you’d left and I’d have to find my own way to school. Then a week later when I had to ride my bike to the store to buy groceries. At eleven, when I looked the school counselor in the eye and said you’d be back soon. I had to go to my own parent-teacher conferences. At fifteen, trying to figure out high school classes. At seventeen when I got my first concussion. At eighteen when I signed my first legally-binding NDA. You hadn’t abandoned me. You were raising me.” He sighs, shakes his head. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

He makes his way up to his room and packs as much as he can. Clothes. Vinyls. The box of cash under the loose floorboard. Then into the bathroom. Toothbrush, deodorant, even his shampoo. Doubles back into his room to grab a bracelet off his nightstand; one El made him.

He looks around, grabs the nail bat, and makes his way downstairs. His mother gasps when she sees him. “What on earth is that?”

He looks at the bat. Adjusts his grip, twirls it around. “An NDA.”

The doorbell rings. Steve grabs his bags and moves towards it. “If you walk out that door, you’ll never walk back in.”

“Fine by me,” Steve says. He grabs his keys, tosses the house key at his father, and pockets the rest.

He opens the door and grins at Eddie, who’s looking at him worriedly. “Hey, Eds. Ready to go?”

Eddie blinks. “Um. Sure? Are you okay?”

“Sure,” Steve shrugs. “I’m getting kicked out. If you don’t want to take me I’ll just go bug Robin. It’ll only be for a little while, though, just until I find a better job and an apartment or something.”

“Like hell Wayne’s gonna miss this chance,” Eddie grins. “You know you’re his favorite.”

Steve smiles back, tosses his things into the back of Eddie’s van. “I hoped you were gonna say that.”

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#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #idk if it’s clear or not but Steve and Eddie ARE dating in this one!!#getting kicked out #Steve Harrington has shit parents #hopefully this isn’t terrible ig #starambles

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inbabylontheywept · 3 months ago

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i had my wisdom teeth out yesterday, and afterwards my friend came over to torment me (mutually agreed upon torment, we planned this beforehand because we thought it would be funny, and it was).

and he starts asking me calculus questions.

tell me why in my propofol-dazed state, when i couldn't understand how time kept passing, i was shocked by the existence of a Dunkin Donuts that's been by my house for the past two years, and i was amazed by how soft my face felt (i couldn't feel myself touching it, it was trippy), i was still able to get the integral of x^2

granted, i first gave him the derivative, and then i gave him the integral without adding the constant of integration C, and this is basic calculus

but HOW do brains work like this.

you get wheeled out of the dentist's office after saying "i love you" to the nurse, making whale sounds, jabbering about your mother having four eyes and there being wayyyy too many lightswitches on that wall, but you retain enough brain to do math???

I think it's kind of beautiful that, in our first stumbling efforts to make a model of a brain, the hard part has been getting it to stop hallucinating. That maybe the natural state of consciousness is this sort of dreamwalking.

I wasn't put under when I got my wisdom teeth removed, but my dad sedated the crap out of me. I can't even remember the cocktail I was on, but it was stupendous. Xanax and some other things. The dentist had to ask me to stop humming several times. After the third ask, I pointed to the drill he was using and said "OHHHH so it's okay when HE does it."

Afterwards, my parents said I seemed lucid, and I talked and I wasn't sluggish or uncoordinated. They knew I was high, but the first "oh, yeah, he's actually quite high" thing I did was I put an otter pop in the microwave to get it mushy, and then I put the time in, and then I reset the microwave, put the time in, reset, time in, over and over and over for about ten minutes. Eventually my little sister stepped in and asked what I was doing, and I explained that I was having a little bit of trouble converting from "normal time" to "microwave time". I'm still not sure what I meant by that, but I think it might have been a binary conversion because the time I'd set it for was 10:10:10

(I have killed more good microwaves that way.)

Brains are cool. You know? I like how much they do without being guided to. I describe the sensation of being me, sometimes, as riding an elephant. And the conscious brain is me, and it gets to watch and want things and make its case to the elephant. And sometimes, the elephant plays along and does some incredibly powerful elephant thing and that great, but other days, it decides to eat eggs. And to some extent, I really am just along for the ride.

i'm not sure where I'm going with this. Perhaps your elephant is quite good at math.

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schlatt-love-bot · 3 months ago

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yuck! - schlatt x reader

now listening: yuck - charli xcx 0:01❍─────── 2:19 ↻ ⊲ Ⅱ ⊳ ↺

[part one (currently reading), part 1.5, part two, part three]

_______________________________________

Schlatt was never fond of “love,” the idea of falling in love or being in love with another person quite literally made him feel sick to his stomach. He didn’t like the commitment—it upheld a standard within his mind that he felt he would never be able to reach, like he wasn’t a good enough person to be ‘boyfriend’ material. Thinking about the pressure of a relationship, needing to be a support for another person other than himself, the planning of dates, the pressure to get married…it had put his stomach in knots regularly. He did, however, crave the physical aspects of being in love, the tender touches, light kisses…especially the sex aspect of it all. That’s how he got himself wrapped up in hookup culture, needing a sexual release without the expectation of flowers and dinner afterwards.

When he was young and made this decision, he didn’t really care who he was hooking up with, his numbers weren’t that big on YouTube quite yet, and so he wasn’t really afraid of a subscriber meeting him off Tinder or Bumble and trying to expose him for his personal life online. As his numbers grew, though, his anxiety about being exposed as a one night stand man began to go through the roof. That’s where you enter the picture. You and Schlatt met each other during a particularly boring elective class you both needed to take to get your degrees in college, being partnered for a group project where you learned you both had the same outlook on the class and had similar hobbies. Having met Schlatt during his brief college days, you knew of his commitment issues and never judged him for his one night stand escapades. Schlatt appreciated the fact that you respected him and his lifestyle choices, most people (especially his mother) never understood why he couldn’t find it in himself to settle down. You, however, understood the inner fear he felt towards love and relationships, and you got why he relied so heavily on casual flings to meet his needs and desires.

When he started making it big as a streamer and on YouTube, it just so happened to line up with a time in your life when you became single, after a two-year long relationship you thought had good prospects of being together forever. Distraught, you came to Schlatt, who told you he knew that relationships were a bad idea, and that he tried to warn you about all that before you committed to that “dickwad”.

“See, this is what’m talking about! Relationships are so fucking stupid…now you’re sittin’ ‘ere sobbing on my couch, for what?” He said, gesturing a hand towards you before bringing his glass of whisky up to his lips, rolling his eyes as he took a sip. You were laying on his couch, tears slowly rolling down your cheeks, glaring at him as you knew he knew you came over for comfort, not judgement.

“Jesus…shut up, dude! I get you’re not into all that stuff…but I thought we had something real. He seemed so genuine…” You croaked, throwing a pillow at Schlatt as he raised his hands to defend himself.

“Yeah, yeah…he was a real genuine guy..especially when he was genuinely between that other chick’s legs…” he laughed, picking up the pillow to place it back beside you, as he leaned down to wipe the tears from your cheeks. You huffed, crossing your arms as you looked away from him.

“Not. Funny.”

“I know it’s not. It’s seriously fucked up.” He said, continuing to wipe away the tears that came, rubbing small circles through your hair in an attempt to calm you down. “I told you, you should just do what I do. There’s no pressure..”

He left it at that, letting you ever so slowly get over your ex with his care and support. The entire time, though, you thought about what he had mentioned—to partake in his lifestyle, how there was no pressure. Soon enough, he came to you with his own proposition.

“Listen…you don’t have to say yes. I know we’re friends, and I don’t want this to twist that all up…but…I can’t keep seeing randos on these dating apps…the last one started talkin’ to me about L’Manberg after I came on her stomach…” he said, his hand snaking around to his neck as he looked down at the floor, hearing you chuckle at his experiences. “Are you..asking me to be your hookup partner?”

“If that’s whatcha wanna call it, toots…”

“No strings attached, right? Just…meeting each other’s physical needs?” You asked, contemplating the idea in your mind. You would admit, you had always wondered how Schlatt was in bed, with the amount of times he had gone out and slept with someone, coming back to you with new stories of positions and other levels of spice you had never considered taking into the bedroom ever before. Not to mention, he wasn’t a bad looking guy, either. There was always a small voice in the back of your head telling you that he was attractive, and that you could change his ways. Plus…you needed your own distraction and to have your needs met while you got over your ex, so what better way than doing that with your good friend, Schlatt?

“Exactly. We still remain good friends…but when we have needs…we meet them, together.” He said, laying out an exact plan that would include rules and consent.

“Oh, and of course. Not falling in love. Sorry, sweetcheeks, I’m not gonna be interested.” He laughed, writing down the last rule on this makeshift contract he began writing before scribbling his name at the bottom.

“Of course…of course. Are you seriously making me sign this thing? It means nothing, legally…” You laughed, picking up the pen he slowly pushed towards you.

“Yeah, I mean it’s not gonna legally mean anything, but it’ll show us if things get…tricky…that we started things with the same intentions, right?” He had no idea why he felt the need to draft up this contract of sorts—he was firm in his belief that he would never, genuinely fall in love with someone, but there was a fear about this in the back of his mind. He had himself convinced that it would be you falling for him and ruining this whole ordeal.

“I guess you’re right…” You said, your voice quiet as you scribbled your name on the bottom of the paper, before meeting his gaze.

“So…when did you wanna start all this?”

“Hmm, no moment quite like now, right, toots?” He laughed, scooting closer to you as he placed a hand on your cheek, “If that’s alright with you, of course…”

His voice trailed off as you let out a giggle, rolling your eyes. You leaned in, kissing him on the lips, leaving him shocked that you initiated without hesitation.

That was about 2 years ago now, and since then you and Schlatt had come nearly inseparable. The contract still stood—neither of you were to have feelings for one another, but were to support one another platonically other than in the bedroom. The only recent amendment to the contract was when Schlatt decided that the two of you should move in together, so that your hookups could be done on a more frequent basis, as it’s what he “needed.” You were already on the hunt for a new place to live, your old apartment becoming too expensive to live on your own in, so you agreed.

As time went on, you felt yourself wanting more. Wanting the simple, quiet moments with Schlatt something more than just a fuck buddy. Wishing that when you were in the kitchen cooking dinner that Schlatt would walk by, wrap his arms around your waist, and whisper something nice in your ear. Instead, you were met with the occasional slap on the ass, and a joke about how you’d make a nice housewife, but not for him.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do when you find a husband, toots.” He would always joke, showing you that he knew you needed something more, something concrete and committed, but also communicating that he knew he wasn’t capable of providing you with those experiences.

You hit a point where you couldn’t take it anymore, though, taking matters in your own hands. You knew the root of the problem was internal fear Schlatt felt, that he wasn’t a good enough person to be able to be committed to someone, and that he needed to improve himself before being able to commit to anyone. He had gotten so used to his hookup lifestyle, though, he felt no pressure to “improve himself” like he had explained to you years ago, though, and so you knew you needed to start adding that pressure on him.

“Flowers? Who bought you those?” He said, seeing an arrangement in a vase on the kitchen counter as you were making something at the stove.

“Oh, no one bought me those. I bought those for you.” You said, nonchalantly, putting down the spoon you were using to look over at his reaction. One of his eyebrows began to raise, as he inspected the flowers once more.

“Respectfully, I don’t need any flowers, sweetheart, but I appreciate the sentiment. What’s with them?” You shrugged your shoulders, leaning against the stove with crossed arms.

“No particular reason…just saw ‘em at the store and thought of you. That’s all.” You say, seeing a slight pink tint come across his cheeks. You could tell the gears in his brain were turning, he was trying to think of a logical, platonic reason for why you would do this, but he wasn’t able to come up with one. You returned your focus to the stove, your pot nearly boiling over now from being neglected.

“Well…thanks, sweetcheeks. Guess ‘m gonna have to repay you for these later, hmm?” He growled, slapping your bottom before going into the fridge to pull out a drink, disappearing back into his office. You sighed, knowing you were going to have to try harder.

“C’mon, don’t you think it would be fun? We live by the mountains, afterall…”

“Stargazing? The fuck do I look like…your boyfriend?” He scoffed, pushing around the pasta you made on his plate, as you sighed, putting your head in your hands.

“No! God, you’re taking it out of context,” you sighed, shaking your head, “Friends do this type of shit, too, idiot. I just thought it would be nice to get away for a weekend, away from your 17,000 different channels and business ventures, let you clear your head for a day or two before coming back to the chaos.”

He began to think silently, leaving you hanging. He was trying to figure out your motive, slowly over the last few months he had noticed your attempts to break down his tough, outer shell, trying to get under his skin and grow closer to him. First, he thought you were trying to be a better friend, but now the line between friend and lover was getting blurred, and the more he thought about it, the sicker he began to feel. He was confused, himself, never quite feeling the way he felt about you with any other person before, none of the women he would see quite regularly made him feel this way, either. When he was around you, he felt…domestic. An urge to protect you, keep you safe, and he had no real clue as to why. The feeling in his chest as of late was so foreign, he often wondered if something was seriously wrong with him—he mentioned in passing the other day that he thought he needed to see a doctor, something about having a heart arrhythmia or something. Was it you blurring this line, or was he unconsciously blurring it himself? The idea made him sweat, and so he once again swallowed all the thoughts and tried his best to press forward.

“Mmm, well..when you put it that way…it does sound kind of nice.” He refused to look up and make eye contact with you as he confirmed plans. You smirked to yourself, feeling as though your intentions were finally setting on him, and that soon enough you could, maybe, call him yours for real.

“Good, cause I already booked a stay at a nice cabin, ‘bout 15 minutes from here. Go pack your bags and let’s get going!” You say, clapping your hands together excitedly, your things already packed since you were going, regardless of his decision. He began to laugh, shaking his head as he stood up, heading to his room.

“What the fuck is up with them…” he muttered under his breath, going through his dressers to find a few t-shirts to throw in his bag.

“Really tryna ruin a good fuckin’ thing, aren’t they…” he couldn’t help himself from feeling a bit angry. He was slowly beginning to realize that you were wanting more, you were getting yourself attached to him not only physically, but emotionally as well, and that you were trying to coax him into believing he was becoming emotionally invested in you as well. It was confusing, to say the least, because on one hand he truly felt as though he was turning a new, uncomfortable leaf—he found himself caring about you, how your day was, how you were feeling, and wanting to connect with you on a level he hadn’t ever connected with someone before, but at the same time he was so stuck in his ways that he didn’t want to think about you as anything more than friends with benefits. His confusion has now shifted to anger, anger that you were trying to get more out of this than he was willing to give, and anger at himself that he was even considering changing his ways for someone other than himself. He finally got his bag all packed, trying to think of this little get away as a break from work, rather than stressing himself out over his feelings and your own.

He rejoined you in the living room, seeing you checking your phone, keys in hand and your own bag placed on the ground at your feet. You hadn’t noticed him standing there quite yet, rather engrossed in something you were reading on your phone. It was at that moment Schlatt realized his heartbeat was getting quicker once again, feeling butterflies beginning to stir within his stomach.

Ugh, he thought to himself, I feel like I’m going to be sick…what the fuck is happening to me?

Almost as if you could hear his inner dialogue, you looked up from your phone, smiling at him standing there looking dumbfounded with his bag in his hands. You slid your phone in your back pocket as you picked up your own bag.

“Ready to go? Let’s enjoy this weekend, hmm?”

“Let’s get this show on the road…” his voice droned on, trying his best to make it seem as though he wasn’t looking forward to spending a weekend alone with you, not having to worry about anything else.

Night began to paint the sky full of stars, as Schlatt fed the woodfire heater inside the cabin to keep you both warm overnight. You sat, wrapped loosely in a blanket on the couch watching him, a mug of hot chocolate sitting nicely in your hands. Since arriving at the cabin, you both already had a few rounds of slow fucking on almost every surface you could find available inside. It was an attempt in Schlatt’s mind to solidify that the only connect you two shared was sexual, not romantic in any way, but after the last round when you glanced up at him with a twinkle in your eye, he began to think it was game over—something in his perspective was shifting. You could tell he was working through something internally, usually after a round he would be a gentleman and help clean you up, make sure you’re comfortable before going back to whatever it was he was doing before, but after your last round, he stared you in the eyes for what felt like forever, his eyes widened before he shook his head, grumbling something about feeling disgusted, leaving you alone on the bed you had finally made your way to in the end. You sighed, running your hands through your hair, unsure of whether or not this trip away was going to work or end up in the way you were anticipating in your mind. With the way he was acting, you’d think you did something seriously sinister to him, and he wanted to get away from you forever. Getting yourself cleaned up, you now found yourself on the couch watching him from afar.

He finally was satisfied with how the fire was going, enjoying the sounds of the crackling wood in the somewhat uncomfortable silence he had created between the two of you. He turned around to see you comfortably watching him, wondering what his next move was going to be.

“You mentioned stargazing, didn’t ya?” He said, sitting gently next to you, afraid if he came on too strong he might say something he regretted, or you would do something that would solidify the change he was terrified of.

“Mhm, wasn’t sure if you remembered, honestly…” your voice trailed off, sounding a bit hurt from having your pride bruised back in the bedroom. Him leaving you like that filled you with doubt—maybe he didn’t want to be more than friends with benefits, afterall, and you’ve just been living in a big bubble of delusion.

“Of course I remembered…c’mon now.” He said, standing up as he gestured a hand to you, offering to pull you up from the couch. You placed your mug to the side, reaching up to grab his hand and stand up yourself. Silently, you followed him as you both adorned your jackets back on, slipping on some boots as Schlatt reached over and grabbed the blanket you were once wrapped up in. You both walked out of the cabin in silence, finding a secluded spot a little bit away from the cabin, but in a clearing large enough that you could make out the stars and their constellations from underneath the trees. Schlatt laid the blanket down on the grass, sitting down before looking back up at you.

“Are you gonna come down here and join me, or are you just gonna stand there, toots?” He chuckled, patting the spot next to him on the blanket. You let out a breathy laugh, sitting next to him before glancing up at the sky. Admiring the stars together, the silence quickly became comfortable, not tense as it was a few minutes ago. When Schlatt laid down on his back, he tugged at your jacket, signalling you to join him, to which you quickly obliged. Your head on his chest, you could ever so softly hear his heart beating intensely, making a smile creep up on your face.

“What’s that one called…?”

“Hmm…maybe Ursa Major? Kinda looks like a bear…doesn’t it?” He hummed, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as his other hand continued to point out different constellations above you. You couldn’t help yourself from looking up at him, seeing how the stars reflected in his eyes caused you to fall deeper than you ever thought possible.

“What’cha lookin’ at?” He said, confused why your gaze wasn’t directed at the stars any longer.

“Have I ever told you just how…handsome you really are, Schlatt?” You said, seeing his eyes grow a bit wider than before. He felt a now familiar heat creep across his cheeks, as he said a silent prayer that you couldn’t tell just how rosy his cheeks have now become.

Fuck. Not this lovey dovey shit…

________________

EDIT: Part 1.5 is out now! Smut, and smut only, so reader discretion is advised! Enjoy~ AND PART TWO! READ IT HERE :)

ANOTHER NOTE: FINAL PART OUT NOW!! Thanks for your love & support!!

#jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt #jschlatt x you #schlatt #schlatt fic #schlatt fanfic #schlatt x you #schlatt x y/n #jschlatt fanfic #jschlatt fic

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thegreatstoryteller · 2 months ago

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The Great Shift: Awkward Tales - Vignette 2: Athletics Run in the Family

“Hey dad! Ready for that workout? I think this football jersey is getting a bit tight. Might need a new one later.” Kyle boomed as he bounded across the hall. The sound loud enough to cause his dad, Bill to jump!

“Oh uh… yeah sure Kyle. Maybe we skip the workout today. We could go shopping and get you new clothes.” Bill offered, gulping as he walked over to his towering son.

“Haha! Very funny dad. I know how you always said that every workout skipped, is a day wasted. I finally get it now! I just beat my PR for bench presses last week! Pretty sure I could do it again this week too if we keep at it! Now let’s go!” Kyle smiled and carried his dad to the car.

Bill sighed. Kyle wasn’t wrong. Before the great shift Bill was a retired amateur athlete. He never could quite go pro, but his passion for working out and fitness was always there. It was something he tried to inspire in his son Kyle, but it never took. Kyle was always more artsy. More sensitive. Less in the physical space and more in the mental. Bill didn’t even care that his son was interested in men, only that he tried some kind of athletic activity. Even as he was making his way through college Bill held on to hope that Kyle would find some athletic spark in his son. Something for them to bond over, but it never came… despite how many times he tried to force sports on to Kyle.

It turns out he should’ve been careful what he wished for. After the great shift, Kyle had landed into the body of a professional athlete, Dallas Turner. Now his one shrimpy son was a 6’5, 250lb titan of athleticism. Suddenly, Kyle finally understood what his dad was talking about. Running around, lifting weights, hell even playing football. Kyle was in love! The consistent amount of fitness planning that Kyle had done in the 1 year since the great shift was more than he’d ever done in his entire life! And the results had shown! Kyle had gained over 10lbs of muscle since he’d got that body!

NFL scouts had even come around and asked him if he’d consider joining the league after he finished college! After all, a majority of former athletes were now in much smaller bodies that couldn’t play anymore. Kyle was considered a top prospect!

Meanwhile Bill was experiencing the opposite end. Where as Kyle had gotten huge from the shift, Bill was on the smaller end. Previously Bill was a proud 6’3, and now as a modest 5’0 he was seeing the world from a whole new perspective. Not only had he gotten significantly younger, now around the same age as his son, but he was not blessed with the same athletic disposition. Somehow most of his body was much smaller everywhere, but he maintained a bit of pudge around the belly, almost like a reminder of the beer belly he had once before. Only now smooth with no hair.

Needless to say, it was clear that Bill’s new body was not built for physical activity. That didn’t stop Kyle from dragging his dad to every possible gym that was open post shift. Kyle loved testing the limits of his new strength. At first, Bill liked it too. Helping Kyle reach his physical potential is what he’d been waiting for ever since he had a son. However, the longer they worked out, the more tired Bill became. Not only from the actual exercise, but also from discovering his new sexuality at the gym with all the hot guys in the area.

Bill had gone from a sternly athletic father, to a nervous gay nerd quite quickly. His behavior became more shy and reserved. He began to understand more and more why Kyle liked things like music, art, and games compared to football. Most importantly he even understood why Kyle could never focus around his athletic peers. Every time Bill and Kyle went to the gym, Bill would get distracted after a new hunk began their workout! Kyle was too, but more so happy to show off his incredible new bod!

These thoughts raced through Bill’s mind as Kyle drove them to the gym! Bill could only hope that his secret crush was there. The handsome bearded bodybuilder was a large Arab man who was some sort of janitor in his previous life. Now this guy was second only to Kyle in the gym the more he worked out and showed of his manly body. Bill had already rubbed one out in the gym locker room thinking of him.

By the time they arrived Kyle got to working out as Bill went to refill their water bottles. Then as he joined the gym floor he was stunned to see Kyle talking to the big bearded gym crush!

“Hey dad! This is Amir! I said he could workout with us. It’ll be nice lifting with another huge guy who could keep up with my lifts. Maybe if I play my cards right with him I could invite him over for dinner.” Kyle gave his dad a confident wink.

“W-what?! I mean. Are you sure? You just met him and-” Bill sputtered as the large man came over and shook his hand. The young father was mortified. The guy he’d been obsessed with at the gym. Here? Now!? Talking to Kyle!?

Amir didn’t seem very interested talking to Bill. His banter was mostly with Kyle as they worked out. The two of them matching their routines and flexing at one another. Bill was practically seething with jealousy as Kyle and Amir tossed their sweaty workout towels at him. They were so lost in their workout and getting to know one another they'd completely forgotten about Bill.

“Hey it’s pretty nice of you to bring your little brother to workout.” Amir smiled as he spotted Kyle.

“Oh that’s my dad. He taught me everything I know about working out.” Kyle corrected, as Bill blushed.

“That so? I’ll have to thank him, because he sure made a handsome son. I hope he won’t mind seeing more of me. Especially if I’m gonna be seeing more of you.” Amir arched an eyebrow and smirked.

Bill’s hands were over his face. His son was gonna start dating his gym crush. It couldn’t get more awkward than this!

#body swap #great shift #the great shift #race change #racial change #age regression

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starry-bi-sky · 11 months ago

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Danyal Al Ghul: Incorrect Quotes and Miscellaneous Thoughts

Incorrect quotes-style snippets specifically for my danyal al ghul au here (which i really need to come up with a unique au name for atp). Because I thought it'd be funny. And also some miscellaneous headcanons thrown into the mix. Some context for the au: - Danyal is 5 years older than Damian (so 10 and 15) - Danny faked his death when he was 10. Talia knows and helped him with it. - Jazz, Sam, and Tucker do not know he's an ex-assassin.

-------- Snippet 1

Danny, dryly tapping his temple: I have, as the Americans say, irreparable psychological damage, right here.

Jazz, an older sibling first and foremost: well, it's good that you're self-aware.

-------- Snippet 2

Danny, aged 10, in the American foster planning to just age out of the system: *emanating Bad Vibes. Pure, Little Orphan Tom Riddle Energy*

Jazz, aged 12, coming in to adopt a new sibling with her parents: Him. This is my brother now :)

Danny: ...what

--------

Lilo and Stitch is Danny's favorite Disney movie. He watched it when he was 11 with Jazz when she was attempting to connect with him, and by this point Danny was becoming receptive to her efforts. They had a movie marathon in the living room one night.

Safe to say? It resonated with his little 11 year old heart strongly, and he related very strongly with both Nani and Stitch. He got unexpectedly emotional and hid in his room for the rest of the night. Jazz felt really bad, but it had the intended (but kinda unexpected) effect of him trying to be nicer to her afterwards.

-------- Snippet 3

Dash, aged 12, causing trouble again and getting intercepted by Danny: *scaling up a desk* AHHHHH! GET YOUR LITTLE FREAK, FOLEY!

Tucker: Hey! Danny is not a freak!

Dash: GET HIM TO BACK OFF

Tucker, was the kid Dash was messing with: ....whats in it for me

-------- Snippet 4

Danny, saying some questionably immoral shit: What. Why are you looking at me like that.

Tucker: Bro. I mean this as kindly as possible; what the fuck?

Sam: yeah, I'm with Tuck on this one.

-------- Snippet 5

Danny, ranting about Vlad: if it weren't for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered him

Sam, painting his nails black: I'm pretty sure you'd slaughter him regardless of the laws of the land -- and quit moving, you're gonna mess me up.

Tucker: we've literally seen you debate yourself about this, Dan

Danny: ...you are correct, but it is the principle of things.

-------- Snippet 6

Vlad: I have experience my child, and the money and power attained through using those powers for personal gain, you say. I could train you, teach you everything I know! And all you have to do is renounce that idiot adoptive father of yours.

Danny, was already contemplating committing a Violence: ....

Danny, internally: I'm going to stab him *turns into Phantom*

--------

Funny contrast I realized between Danyal and Vlad that iirc I haven't pointed out yet is that imo, Danyal doesn't rely on his powers nearly half as much as canon Danny does. He falls back instinctually on his League training, and thus sometimes forgets to use his powers in battle. This was prevalent especially early on when he was still getting used to the whole 'halfa' thing.

He incorporates them more often after a year, but still for the most part relies on his own physical hand-to-hand combat. He trusts those skills much more than he does his powers. I'm not sure where he is on a technical level compared to canon, but just to stay safe I'll say he's similar in power skill as canon Danny. Perhaps a little more finessed than him because his League training would probably have him trying to figure out his powers as soon as possible.

But in summary? Danny is strong in hand-to-hand combat, weak in powerset.

Meanwhile Vlad is the opposite. I can't recall if he even knows hand-to-hand in canon, but it makes total sense to me that Vlad Masters wouldn't because he's so confident in his monetary influence and ghost abilities that he sees no need for it.

And he's kinda got some merit behind it. He's very powerful and has 20 years of experience to experiment and fine tune his powers. He's got bite to follow up his bark. He's perfected long-range combat and his ability to phase through walls makes it impossible to corner him, but if you can manage it, then one good hit could probably knock him on his ass.

So in summary, Vlad is strong in powerset, weak in hand-to-hand combat.

And it casts a good contrast between the two of them in that regard. Danny, as a fellow halfa, can follow Vlad when he phases through walls and is fast enough to land a hit on him. His league training as an assassin, albeit rusty, is still deep ingrained enough in him that he can hold up as a rather veritable threat against Vlad without needing his powers.

But Vlad can force Danny to use his powers more often through use of his own. The duplication is the first thing to come to mind: Danny's fast enough to dispel them on his own without powers, and smart enough that he could figure out who the real one is if given a few minute. But that's not always efficient enough.

Good foils for each other that way. Also Vlad's Plasmius design mimics Ra's juuust enough that he looks like Ra's knockoff loser second cousin no one talks about, which only fuels Danny's hatred.

-------- Snippet 7

Danny, ranting about Vlad for the first time: --and it's only made worse by the fact that the little ingrate resembles a cheap knock-off of my grandfather!--

Sam, choking on her water: he what--

Tucker, doing a spittake: HE DOES?

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #danyal al ghul au #i have a doodle of that little scene with vlad actually. its in my notebook lmao.#danny gets *furiously* shakespearan when he's insulting someone. sam and tucker have recorded some of his rants #and they are just pure gold.#sam and tucker calling danny 'dan' as a nickname 2024.#which reminds me about how TUE would even happen. someone in my ao3 comments made a good point about how they weren't sure if my danyal #would even have a TUE occur because he's not the cheating type. i've seen clips of how he got his hands on the test answers but i'll need t #watch the episode to gauge if Dan is even feasible. and if he is what changes to make him happen. hmmm. much to think about #don't think danyal would stay with vlad even in the midst of his grief. hmhmhm #dpdc

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i-amm-mj · 2 years ago

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Breeding kink - smut to fluff

afabreader! x Katsuki Bakugo

⚠️ smut, breeding kink, dirty talk, creampie ⚠️

Katsuki doesn´t come from a big a family, so he doesn´t know where this craving for impregnate you with at least four of his kids is coming from. He woke up one day with you beside him, and saw your beautiful body sprawled on the mattress and he realized that you had awoken his most primal desires. He wanted to fuck you day and night until he got you pregnant; until he could see your belly all rounded and your breasts swelling and big from the milk that he was going to help you got out with his own mouth.

“That´s it, baby” he growled in your ear while pounding his dick in and out of your pussy “I´m gonna give you all of my cum and you´re gonna take it like the good girl you are, right?” You were so lost on the pleasure that the only thing you could do was dumbly nod.

“I´m gonna get you fucking pregnant. Going to give you as many kids as you want” he gulped hard when your walls pulsed around his dick “you´d like that, wouldn´t you?” you moaned. His sinful words and the way his hips moved against your own had your head spinning without a single coherent thought allowed to form.

“Yes, yes, please” you closed your eyes trying to enjoy the feeling starting to erupt in your lower belly.

“Please what?” He smirked while adjusting himself on the bed so he could lift your left ancle to his shoulder and have a better angle to that spot inside that had you curling your toes.

“Plea-please make me a mommy. I want your cum deep inside me” his breath hitched. Fucking hell, he loved when you responded to his dirty talk even with your mind all numb from the sex “Oh, fuck, I´m so close Kats, don´t stop” you said, and he inclined towards you to exchange a passionate kiss. It didn´t matter that it was all teeth and tongue because it was so fucking hot. You were fucking hot.

“Give it to me, gorgeous. Cum on my dick. Make a mess on me” He continued pounding into you so deliciously. You could feel every vein on his dick and the way it pulsed inside you wanting to explode right there.

“Cum with me, Kats. Please cum with me” you begged. A shiver went through his spine and his dick almost burst at the way your voice shook with every word.

“Fuck, I´m close too” he answered furrowing his brows, concentrating on the way your pussy sucked him in. You were so fucking wet that it slipped easily. He hissed.

“Right there. Right there” you cried out and Katsuki moved his thumb on your clit to amplify the sensations. That was all you needed to reach your peak. You moaned even harder and convulsed around his dick which made him cum at the same time. He spurted his cum in your pussy like he promised and then collapsed on top of you. You massaged his scalp, and he purred in contentment.

“I´m serious though” he murmured after giving your collarbones a light kiss.

“About what?” you asked a little confused.

“Knocking you up with my children” you giggled. He raised his head from your chest and pouted “What´s so funny idiot?”

“Aren´t we too young?”

“We´re 26”

“Exactly” you answered with a smile “Kids are a great responsibility and a very big investment.”

“I´m hero number 5 right now, and in a few years I´ll be number 1 if fucking Deku doesn´t beat me to it, but even if I´m number 2 for the rest of my career I´m sure I can provide even a family of ten. And I´m sure you´ll get promoted sooner or later too because you´re the fucking best at what you do.” He stated.

“Ten!? Omg, didn´t you say four!?”

“Plans change” he smirked playfully. You laughed softly but wholeheartedly. Katsuki loved your laugh. He loved everything about you.

“We are not even married Kats,” you caressed his face with a smile on your face “my mother would never forgive me having a child outside marriage.”

He considered his words for a few seconds, and you tried to guess what was going on in that pretty but stubborn head of his. He then looked you in the eye and without doubt said “Let´s get married then. What are we waiting for?”

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ginnsbaker · 2 months ago

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All Of Your Pieces (14 - The Twins)

Chapter Summary: Stark's Annual Charity Ball pulls the invisible string that finally nudges you and Wanda in the right direction.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 6.2k+ | Chapter Tags: Age of Ultron!Wanda, Mild angst, comfort, fluff

A/N: I haven't written anything new in more than 2 weeks, but I'll just keep posting the chapters I've finished *cries* Anyway, this particular update is a milestone in R and Wanda's relationship, and it involves an auction. Kinda obvious where that will lead us to, yea? Enjoy! // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“I can't believe you're letting Tony pimp me out to some geriatric billionaire—” you stormed into Steve's office, tracking mud across the carpet.

It was pouring outside, and as soon as you arrived at the compound, Vision greeted you with a curious question. “What's a human auction? Is it like those slave sales back in the 1500s?” he had asked. You had brushed him off, heading straight for the one person you knew had to have given the final approval on this sort of thing.

“Whoa, hold on a second,” Steve cut in, his eyes going wide as he dropped his pen. He braced himself, clearly prepared for whatever wild accusation you were about to hurl his way. “No one is going to be ‘pimped out’ at Stark's Annual Charity Ball!”

Natasha, sprawled in a leather chair by the window, ankle cocked over knee, quirked an eyebrow at your entrance, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Someone’s fired up today,” she commented dryly.

You paced, the wooden floor creaking underfoot, fingers threading through your hair. “Then what do you call auctioning me off like some kind of prize to the highest bidder?” you demanded.

He leaned back, the chair groaning under his weight. “It’s not like that. You know it’s one of the biggest fundraising events of the year. We make an appearance every time to show our support.”

“Yes, make an appearance,” you jabbed the air with your finger. “Smile for the cameras, shake a few hands—that I can handle. But being part of an auction? That's crossing a line.”

Natasha shook her head, clearly amused by your distress. “You know, the bidders aren't all bad. Sure, some of them might be older, but age brings experience. You might end up meeting an attractive, mature woman. Isn't that your dream?”

You shot her a skeptical look. “Very funny, Nat.”

“Lighten up, darling.”

You squinted at her. “Are you one of the prizes to bid on?”

“Nope,” she replied without elaboration, her face giving away nothing.

Turning back to Steve, you threw your hands up in exasperation. “You said everybody was involved!”

He squirmed, eyes darting away. “Well, not everyone.”

“Great,” you muttered sarcastically. “So who’s actually on the block?”

Steve started counting off on his fingers. “There's me. Vision agreed to participate—some tech leaders are eager to meet him. Sam volunteered; he's offering a personalized flight experience. Bruce is giving a private lecture on gamma radiation. Even Don from accounting signed up.”

“Don from accounting?” you echoed incredulously. “The guy who brings tuna sandwiches for lunch every day?”

“He's offering financial planning sessions,” Natasha said. “Riveting stuff.”

It seemed everyone had a well-thought-out plan tailored to their expertise—everyone, that is, except you.

“So, what are you guys expecting me to offer?” you asked, already dreading the answer.

Steve swapped a look with Natasha, then cleared his throat. “Tony was thinking you could throw in something exclusive—like a dinner, maybe an entire evening out, for the highest bidder.”

“A date?” you scoffed.

“Think of it less as being ‘sold’ and more as donating your irresistible presence for a noble cause,” Natasha said.

“Me?” you said, pointing to yourself with a sardonic chuckle. “Irresistible?”

Natasha smirked. “Don't sell yourself short. Some people might find your brooding charm... appealing.”

“Careful, Romanoff,” you retorted, a sly grin on your face as you sauntered over with a mischievous sway in your step. “Keep talking like that, and I might think you're flirting with me.”

She barely spared you a glance. “Not in a million years.”

“So, there's a number?” you quipped, grinning wider.

“Alright, that's enough,” Steve barked, pushing himself off his chair, trying to look like the picture of authority. “The auction lineup is final; people have already shown interest. All I'm asking is for two hours of you on your best behavior. Can you do that?”

You shrugged, already backing toward the door. “No promises,” you muttered, turning to leave.

As you rushed out of Steve's office, you collided abruptly with what felt like a solid wall—only it turned out to be someone.

More specifically, Wanda. You caught a wisp of her red before it vanished completely, suggesting she'd instinctively used her powers to cushion her own impact. Good for her. For you? Not so much.

“Sorry, didn't see you there,” you said, rubbing a tender spot on your shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Wanda's eyes widened when she saw you, like a deer caught in headlights. She nodded too eagerly before excusing herself as if she was in a hurry. You shrugged and turned back to the direction you were heading.

It had been over a week since you'd inadvertently caused a scene at a restaurant Wanda often visited, leading you to awkwardly apologize later with takeout. After Wanda stormed out that night, you lost interest in your date and ended up cutting the evening short just as Alex was suggesting drinks. Your relationship with Wanda hadn’t really improved or worsened since then, which was probably for the best, all things considered. You had noticed, however, that Vision seemed to stick by her side even more than before. You’re happy for them. Ever since he told you that Wanda was lonely, you thought she needed someone like him—a truly devoted friend or more.

“Two hours,” you muttered to yourself as you entered your room, closing the door behind you with a soft click. “How hard can it be?”

—

It was a spectacle—exactly what you'd expect from a Stark event.

Hosted at New York's iconic Metropolitan Museum of Art, the fundraiser didn't just rival the Met Gala—it eclipsed it. The guest list was a who's who of the world's elite, pulling not only A-list celebrities from fashion and entertainment but also power brokers from technology, real estate, automotive, food, and pharmaceuticals.

Your teammates were dispersed throughout the venue. Having arrived half an hour earlier, you hadn't spotted any of them yet, but you suspected they were probably doing the same thing you were—stalling, avoiding the spotlight until the last possible moment when they would have to step forward and be seen. You found yourself lingering near the entrance, fidgeting with the straps of your elegant black dress. It was a daring choice, selected by a fashion guru Tony had brought in specifically for this event. You had resisted this outfit until the final moment, relenting only when Tony threatened to schedule you for more public appearances—gigs he usually delegated to Rhodes or Sam on ordinary days.

“Looking sharp,” Clint remarked, coming up beside you. He was adjusting his bow tie, a slight grin on his face as he took in your outfit.

Finally—someone to stick with for the rest of the evening.

“Flattery won't get you out of babysitting duty tonight,” you teased, trying to ignore the anxious butterflies in your stomach.

He chuckled, his eyes scanning the patrons. “Wouldn't dream of it. Besides, someone has to keep an eye on you.”

“Uh-huh,” you replied, scanning the room yourself.

You tried to distract yourself by diving into shop talk with Clint, who indulged you but seemed more focused on his martini, sipping and nodding with the occasional terse response. It was fine by you; at least it was a way to pass the time until the event wrapped up.

Soon, Natasha joined you, wearing a glittery gold dress that was both classy and seductive, covering most but highlighting just enough. You made an effort not to stare too much at your mentor. Back in your rookie year with the team, you'd harbored a bit of a crush on her, but that had faded as she took a more active role in your training. Over time, you came to see her as a sister, finding in her and Clint the semblance of the family you never had.

She complimented Clint on his suit before turning to you. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Trying to,” you replied truthfully.

“Here,” Natasha said, offering you her glass of champagne. “Two more of these and you’ll be fine.”

You accepted the glass, taking a tentative sip. It did little to settle your nerves, but you appreciated the gesture. “Thanks.”

“Look who decided to grace us with their presence,” Clint announced, nodding toward the entrance.

Vision had just arrived, dressed to impress. He resembled a polished gentleman, a look so fitting it was almost comical—like he belonged in a museum exhibit. You stifled a laugh at the thought, chiding yourself for even entertaining such a cheeky idea. Notably absent was Wanda, who you had expected to see at his side.

“Vision actually looks... dapper,” you observed.

Behind Vision, Sam and Rhodey entered, each with a stunning woman on their arm. Sam's date wore a sleek silver gown that shimmered under the lights, while Rhodey's companion was radiant in royal blue.

“Where's Bruce?” Natasha asked, glancing around the room. “He was supposed to be here by now.”

Clint emptied his glass of drink just in time for the waiter to arrive with a new one. “Haven't seen him. Steve's getting nervous he's a no-show.”

You frowned. “Wait, we can do that? Just... not show up?”

“If you're the Hulk, yeah, probably.”

“And Tony?” you asked.

“You know he doesn’t attend his own parties these days,” Clint said.

“Anyone seen Wanda?” Natasha asked suddenly.

For a moment, you'd forgotten about her. You hadn't heard anything about her participating in the auction, and you didn't want to ask why. She was still relatively new to the team, and the events of Sokovia were still fresh in everyone's minds. Maybe Tony didn’t want to stir the pot by introducing the newest member so soon.

“Haven’t seen her,” Clint replied. “Maybe she's skipping it.”

“Or maybe she's just running late,” Natasha suggested.

You shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. “Either way.”

Just then, the grand hall’s light dimmed, and the spotlight found its way to the center of the stage where Steve stood, clad in a classic tuxedo, his hair slicked back, the blue of his eyes catching the light and gleaming under the gaze of hundreds who adored him.

“Good evening, everyone,” he started, racking up cheers from the crowd, mostly from the women up front. “On behalf of the Avengers and Stark Industries, thank you for joining us tonight. Your generosity makes a profound difference.”

For a guy who was frozen for half a century, he sure had a knack for working a room and blending into this new era. You shifted your weight, trying to quell the restless energy inside you. Who would make a bid for you? Or worse, what if no one did? Each thought was as mortifying as the other. You reached for your third glass of champagne, trying to drown the embarrassment that had started with Natasha's first toast.

Steve went on, “We're starting tonight's auction with some exclusive items straight from Tony's personal garage—a collection of rare prototypes and unique gadgets.”

The first item was wheeled out—a sleek, custom-built motorcycle with cutting-edge tech enhancements. The crowd murmured appreciatively. Bidding was enthusiastic, and the motorcycle sold for an impressive sum. Next came a high-tech smartwatch with capabilities far beyond anything on the market, followed by a limited-edition arc reactor, encased in glass as a piece of art.

As the last of Tony's treasures was auctioned off, Steve returned to the microphone. “And now, we have something very special. For the first time tonight, we're offering you the opportunity to spend time with two of our own heroes.”

The cheer was resounding. You wanted to throw up at the sound of it.

“First up,” Steve announced, “we have Vision.”

A spotlight found Vision as he made his way to the stage. He nodded politely to the audience and they cheered even louder.

“The winning bidder will enjoy a personalized afternoon with Vision,” Steve continued. “A chance to discuss philosophy, technology, or any subject of your choosing.”

The bidding began immediately.

“Fifty thousand,” someone called out.

“Seventy-five,” another voice said.

“One hundred thousand!”

A collective gasp filled the ballroom. From there, the bids shot up even more quickly.

“One hundred fifty thousand!”

“Two hundred thousand!”

“Two hundred fifty thousand!” a woman declared from the back, her paddle held high.

It was the highest bid of the night so far.

“Going once, going twice... sold to bidder number 112 for two hundred fifty thousand dollars!” Steve announced, leading a round of applause.

Vision gave a gracious nod before exiting the stage.

You took a deep breath, realizing your turn was next. And there was no way you could go higher than Vision.

“And now,” Steve continued, “we have another incredible opportunity. An exclusive experience with one of our most skilled team members, Y/N.”

The spotlight swung in your direction. With a gentle nudge from Clint, you made your way to the stage, your heart pounding. Standing beside Steve, you tried to focus on the faces in the crowd, but the bright lights made it difficult.

You were expecting Steve to mention what you had to offer, but you were pleasantly surprised that he went right ahead to the bidding.

“Do I hear twenty thousand?” the auctioneer prompted.

An initial silence stretched on longer than you'd hoped.

“Twenty thousand,” a woman called out softly.

“Thirty thousand,” added a man seated toward the middle.

The bidding was slow compared to Vision's, and you felt a flush rise to your cheeks. You wanted to kill Steve and Tony after this. You swore to yourself you would.

“Forty thousand,” the woman countered.

“Forty-five,” came another bid.

Just as you began to resign yourself to a modest outcome, a new bidder declared his interest.

“Sixty thousand,” declared a man standing near the side of the room.

You squinted, trying to make out his features. He was well-dressed, with dark hair and a pleasant disposition. Something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn't quite place where you'd seen him before.

“Seventy thousand,” the previous bidder upped the ante.

“Eighty thousand,” the newcomer responded.

The crowd began to take more interest.

“Do I hear ninety?” the auctioneer asked.

Your face was hurting from smiling the entire time, and you could feel sweat starting to roll down from the base of your exposed neck.

“Ninety thousand,” called out the woman from before.

The bids climbed steadily until the man finally offered a hundred-twenty.

Everybody held their breaths, waiting to see if this bid would top Vision’s, despite the auction's sluggish beginning.

“Going once, going twice... sold to bidder number 214 for one hundred twenty thousand dollars!”

The applause swelled around you as you stood there. You weren't hung up on how well you performed; you were just relieved it was finally over.

“Congratulations,” Steve said, pulling you into a hug. You kept your smile in place, leaned in close, and whispered, “This isn't over.”

The man who had won the bid was being escorted by one of the event staff to meet you.

As you approached him, recognition clicked into place. His name was Daniel—a member of the support staff at the Avengers compound. You'd seen him around, handling logistics and occasionally assisting with training setups.

He had that much amount of money to spend on you?

“Daniel?” you said, extending a hand. “I didn't expect to see you here.”

He shook your hand with a friendly smile. “Good to see you, Y/N. Actually, I'm here on behalf of someone else."

Before you could ask, he gestured toward a quiet hallway. “The person who actually bid on you and won is waiting for you down that hall.”

You entered a quaint gallery displaying an array of quirky artifacts that seemed centuries old—though your limited attention in history classes made it impossible to pinpoint their exact origins or era. What made you stop and stare was how it was peaceful and kind of personal, with no crowds to elbow through. You could see why some folks find it therapeutic to hang out in museums and galleries like this.

Standing near a large window was a figure. That unmistakable posture was all too familiar.

“Wanda?” you called out, startled.

She turned to face you, and her nervousness was impossible to miss. It clashed with how stunning she looked in her gown—a deep red that draped perfectly, with a daring neckline that plunged but somehow still looked elegant. The sleeves fluttered around her arms, and her brunette hair cascaded in wild waves, shortened by the curls to just past her shoulders. She was breathtaking.

Looking between Wanda and the closed door, you tried to piece it together. “So... you hired Daniel to bid for you?”

Wanda nodded. “I didn't want to draw attention by bidding myself. I hope that's okay.”

Warmth spread through you. Why would Wanda bid such a substantial amount of money for time with you, especially when you saw each other every day? It was odd, a little unsettling, but at least you weren’t paired with a complete stranger whose intentions might be unclear.

Though… what were Wanda’s intentions?

“Are you okay?” Wanda asked softly, her eyes searching yours. It hit you then—you hadn’t said a word in a while.

“Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, snapping out of your thoughts. “I’m just… surprised.”

Wanda took a few steps, not toward you, but toward the exit. “I didn't mean to—I just... If this makes you uncomfortable, we can just forget the whole thing.”

You could have simply taken her up on the offer, paid her back, and moved on. But instead, something compelled you to reach out and grasp her arm before she could leave. Wanda glanced over her shoulder, her expression a mix of wariness and curiosity.

You searched for the right words, your heart pounding. Then, a small smile formed on your lips as you shrugged lightly. “Do you want to get out of here?”

—

For a hundred and twenty thousand dollars, Wanda Maximoff didn’t just secure a free hotdog sandwich—she also claimed what might be the best view in the city. Better than the one from the Empire State Building, even—an exaggeration, perhaps, but isn’t any view more breathtaking when shared with the right person?

It was hardly the deal of a lifetime, but there you were, actually trying to make it worth her while.

Sitting together on a quiet rooftop terrace, the city's lights stretched out before you like a shimmering sea. You took a bite of your hotdog, moaning at the comfort of a simple snack.

Wanda glanced over at you, a soft smile playing on her lips. “This is nice,” she said.

You swallowed your bite and turned to face her. "Can I ask you something?"

“Of course.”

“Why did you bid on me?” you asked. “I mean, you could've bid on Vision.”

Wanda looked fairly confused. “Why would I bid on Vision?”

You shrugged, biting your tongue to keep yourself from insinuating to Wanda that he’s her boyfriend. Well, wasn’t he?

Wanda laughed softly, causing a smile to form on your own lips.

“Vision is always there,” she began thoughtfully. “Even when I don't ask for him, he shows up. Some days, it felt like there was too much of him.”

That was… unexpected. “I thought you two were close,” you said.

“We are, in a sense,” she said. “He's got a good heart, smart, well-meaning. But there are times I just need to be left alone. With Vision, it's as if he's always trying to figure me out, not just exist alongside me.”

You took a slow bite, chewing over her words. “Well, Vision does seem like an honorable person. I think he really cares about you.”

She smiled faintly. “I know he does. And I care about him too. But it's complicated.”

“Complicated how?”

Wanda sighed, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. You gave her space, watching silently until she turned to face you. When she did, you were struck by her eyes—a vivid green that outshone the moon itself.

“He's still figuring out what it means to be... human,” she explained. “Emotions, relationships—they're concepts he's learning, and sometimes I feel like a subject in an experiment.”

“I'm sorry you feel that way,” you whispered. Believing Vision would simply cure Wanda's loneliness was naive. You regretted the times you thought it was so simple, pushing her towards someone else just to keep her at arm's length. Now, sitting side by side on the terrace of your apartment—a detail you hadn't mentioned to Wanda—you realized her company wasn't so bad. Removed from the context of her powers and past faults, she seemed almost ordinary. And it didn't hurt that she was undeniably beautiful—a fact that admittedly played a part in why you had kept your distance. Her appearance made it too easy to become distracted.

“I could do a lot worse,” Wanda said lightly.

“Yeah,” you replied, before pointing to yourself. “You’re looking at her.”

Her laughter erupted, full and unrestrained. You realized you enjoyed hearing it—and even more, being the reason for it.

After a moment, you took a deep breath. “You know, you didn’t have to bid on me just to hang out. I’m sorry if it seemed like I was cold to you. It's just, initially, we were on opposite sides, and I'm kind of a loner by nature.”

“I didn’t bid on you for the company,” she said. “I heard you were upset about being auctioned off. I thought I’d help out.”

“Oh,” you managed, heat creeping into your cheeks in surprise and a bit of shame. “You really didn’t have to do that. Honestly, you could be anywhere else, doing something better with your time.”

She gave a light shrug, dismissing the thought. “I wanted to be here. And you're under no obligation—it’s your time.”

“That was a lot of money, Wanda.”

She flashed a small, knowing smile. “We get paid pretty well, and we live rent-free in a state-of-the-art facility with more food than we know what to do with. Honestly, I don’t know where to put all that money.”

You couldn't help but whistle at her extravagant dilemma about where to spend her money.

“Some of mine went here,” you mentioned, beginning to tidy up. You picked up Wanda’s hotdog box, then yours, and slipped them back into the paper bag they came in.

“Here?”

“This is, uh, my apartment in the city,” you admitted, feeling a bit sheepish about the modest surroundings. It wasn't much to look at—barely furnished since you hardly spent a night here. But it was nice to have a fallback, a place where you could imagine being just another average citizen, cooking dinner and passing out on the sofa to late-night TV. Not that you've actually done that here, but, you know, the possibility's always there.

“Oh,” Wanda breathed, her eyes going wide—and you hadn’t thought it was possible for them to be more disarming than they already were. “I—I didn’t realize. Sorry for intruding—”

“I invited you,” you pointed out, your grin turning amused at her reaction. It was nice to see her a little off-balance. Her gaze met yours, and there was something in her eyes that made you a bit nervous. Usually, you weren't easily thrown off by pretty women, but Wanda was different. She wasn't like anyone you'd ever met.

“It's getting a bit chilly,” she noted after a while, rubbing her arms lightly.

“Would you like to come inside?” you offered. “I can lend you something warmer.”

It didn’t take Wanda another second to accept. “Yes, please.”

“Come on,” you said, leading her to your bedroom. Opening a drawer, you pulled out a pair of soft pajama pants and a cozy sweater. “These should fit well enough. The bathroom is just through that door.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, taking the clothes. She headed into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar.

You grabbed a t-shirt and some comfortable boxers for yourself, beginning to change in your bedroom. As you pulled your shirt over your head, your eyes accidentally darted towards the bathroom. Through the partially open door, you inadvertently glimpsed Wanda from behind as she changed. Her back was turned, revealing a black lace bra as she slipped out of her dress.

You swallowed hard and quickly turned your eyes away, focusing on getting dressed as quickly as you could. You yanked your shirt down and shimmied into your shorts, trying to shake the image from your mind.

Moments later, Wanda stepped out dressed in your clothes, the sleeves of the sweater hanging slightly past her wrists. The outfit was a bit oversized but looked comfortable on her.

“These are perfect,” she said with a grateful smile. Noticing your flustered expression, she tilted her head. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” you stammered.

She gave you a curious look but didn't press the matter. Glancing at your attire, she commented, “Won't you be cold dressed like that?”

You looked down at yourself. “Oh, I'll be fine. I tend to get hot,” you replied, then realized the double meaning of your words. Your face grew warmer. “I mean, I warm up easily.”

Wanda smirked and didn’t bother to be subtle about it. “Good to know.”

You grabbed a pillow from your bed and tucked it under your arm. “Well, I guess I'll let you get some rest,” you said, heading toward the door.

“Wait,” Wanda called after you. “You're not sleeping on the sofa, are you?”

You looked up, surprised. “I was actually planning to catch up on some reading.”

She sighed, giving in. “Fine, if you're sure.”

“I'm sure,” you said, fluffing the pillow.

She smiled softly. “Goodnight, then.”

“Night, Wanda,” you replied. After a moment's pause, you added, “And... thanks again for tonight.”

She lingered in the doorway of the bedroom and nodded at you with a smile.

Before she could slip away, you called out, “Hey, wanna train together tomorrow?”

Her face lit up. “Looking forward to it.”

—

It wasn��t that your bed was uncomfortable. Far from it, actually. The mattress was firm but not too firm, the pillows soft enough to cradle her head. By all accounts, Wanda should’ve been fast asleep. But she wasn’t. Everything about the bed—about the room—was a distraction.

She couldn’t stop thinking about how the sheets had probably wrapped around your skin countless times, how your scent lingered faintly in the fabric no matter how often they’d been washed. She wondered what position you usually slept in. Did you curl up on your side, clutching a pillow? Did you sprawl across the bed, limbs outstretched in different directions? The thoughts were small, trivial, and maddeningly persistent.

No matter how many times she turned over, pulled the blanket tighter, or closed her eyes, her mind wouldn’t shut off. So, when she tossed and turned for what felt like the hundredth time, Wanda decided she wasn’t going to just lie there, restless and alone, while you were only a few feet away.

Wanda eased the door open, careful to make as little noise as possible, though the faint creak still gave her away. You were there, of course, exactly where she thought you’d be, sitting on the sofa with a book in your lap. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated your face, and Wanda’s breath hitched when she noticed the glasses perched on your nose.

“Hey,” you greeted softly, glancing up from the page but keeping your finger tucked between the chapters as a placeholder.

There was something about you at this hour, something Wanda couldn’t quite put her finger on. It wasn’t just the glasses or the book or the way the light softened the sharp lines of your face. You seemed different. More laid-back. Almost mellow. Wanda decided this was one of her favorite versions of you.

“Can’t sleep,” she murmured, fiddling with the rings on her fingers—a nervous habit she couldn’t quite kick.

Wanda bit her lip as you slid your glasses off and set them on the side table. It was endearing to think it was because you were giving her your full attention. You tapped the cushion next to you.

She obliged. The sofa dipped slightly under her weight, and she sat close enough for your shoulders to almost touch but left just enough distance to not assume too much. Wanda’s fingers stopped fidgeting, her hands resting in her lap as she glanced at the book you’d set aside.

“What were you reading?” she asked.

You smiled slightly, reaching for the book and turning it so she could see the cover. It wasn’t anything grand—just a worn paperback with creased pages and a faded title. That’s when Wanda’s gaze wandered to the shelves behind you, packed tight with books, some even spilling over into piles on the floor. Hardcovers, paperbacks, thick, ancient volumes that looked like they belonged in a library—

You weren’t just an ordinary reader.

“Didn’t take you for a… what’s that phrase you Americans use for someone who’s obsessed with reading?” Wanda asked, a light laugh escaping her lips.

“Bookworm,” you replied, grinning.

“Yeah—that.”

You chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Maximoff.”

The way you said her name sent a small shiver down her spine, but she hid it well, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked away for a moment. You weren’t sure if it was because it was late and your defenses were worn thin, or because the edges of exhaustion blurred your better judgment after spending the entire night nose-deep in your book. But something compelled you to speak to her.

Not small talk. Not another shallow exchange to fill the silence. No, you wanted to talk to her, really talk to her. About things that mattered, like how she was actually doing—not just the perfunctory “I’m fine” you’d heard her mutter too many times before. About how she was settling in at the compound, surrounded by strangers who were supposed to be her teammates but often felt like little more than colleagues. About what it felt like to start over in a new country, surrounded by a language and culture that weren’t hers.

About how she was coping without Pietro.

You wondered if anyone had asked her these things before—apart from Vision, maybe. And even then, you could imagine what those conversations might have been like. Vision was earnest, but earnestness only went so far. He probably asked like a child would, curious but detached.

“So, uhm,” you cleared your throat, pulling up your knees to hug them in front of your chest. “How—How have you been holding up?”

It took her a moment to respond, and for a second, you wondered if you’d overstepped, if she didn’t like being asked in the first place. But instead, she tilted her head slightly, studying you like she wasn’t sure if you were serious.

“Why do you ask?” she said finally, her accent curling softly around the words.

You hesitated, suddenly hyper-aware of how vulnerable the question made you feel. You weren’t used to this—to reaching out, to asking someone else to open up. But it was too late to backtrack now, so you shrugged, feigning casualness you didn’t feel. “Just thought… it’s been a lot. For you, I mean. New country, new team, new life.” You paused, glancing away. “It can’t be easy.”

Wanda let out a small, humorless laugh. “That’s putting it lightly.”

You didn’t reply immediately, giving her the opportunity to say more if she wanted to. When the silence stretched on, you pressed gently. “So? How are you holding up?”

She exhaled, a long, tired sound. “I’m... fine,” she said.

“That’s not an answer,” you said. “And you don’t have to give me one if you don’t want to. I just thought... maybe you’d want to talk.”

Wanda looked at you again as if trying to gauge whether you meant it. Whether you really meant that you cared.

“You’re asking me this now?” she said.

“Seemed like as good a time as any.”

Her lips twitched—almost a smile, but not quite—and she looked away again. “I don’t think anyone’s really asked me that,” she whispered after a moment. “Not like you just did.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you stayed quiet, letting her continue.

“It’s... hard,” she said, slow and careful. “Being here. With all of you. Everyone’s been... kind. But I can tell most of them don’t trust me.”

“They’ll come around,” you said, though you knew it wasn’t a guarantee. You knew better than anyone how slow trust could be, how much it took to earn it in a place like this. After all, it had taken you ages to come around yourself—ages of Wanda wearing you down in ways you hadn’t even noticed at first, of her saving your life and an embarrassing predicament.

“Maybe,” she said, her voice distant. She twisted the hem of her sweater between her fingers, her eyes focused on the floor.

“And Pietro?” you asked softly, almost afraid of the question.

“I think about him every day,” she said quietly. “About what he’d say if he were here. What he’d do. Sometimes, I swear I can still hear him in my head—his voice, the things he used to tell me. But then I catch myself trying to shush it, like I’m afraid I’ll get stuck there. In that space. I know it sounds crazy—”

“It’s not,” you cut in too quickly, but you meant them. Whatever grief looked like for her, it wasn’t something you had the right to call crazy.

She turned to you then, a small, rueful smile that felt like hope when her eyes couldn’t pretend she was grieving hard. It was the kind of smile that said she appreciated your words, even though you both knew they weren’t entirely true. You weren’t sure if she believed you or if she just wanted to believe you, but either way, she nodded.

“Thank you.”

“Sometimes,” she continued after a long pause, “I wonder if it would’ve been easier to go with him.”

You swallowed, the ache in her voice pulling something loose in you. You didn’t want to say anything, didn’t want to make it about you—but that feeling hit too close to home.

“I used to think that way, too,” you said quietly.

Wanda turned to look at you, surprised. She didn’t interrupt, though. She waited.

You rubbed a hand over your face, buying yourself a second to organize the thoughts you’d buried for so long. “I’m not saying it to compare,” you added, voice tight. “I just... I know what it’s like.”

“My dad died when I was a kid,” you said, keeping your voice light, like saying it matter-of-factly would dull the edges of it. “I barely remember him. Just flashes—his laugh, his cologne, stuff like that. But my mom... she hated me long before he was gone. She blamed me for everything. Especially for my twin not making it.”

Wanda stiffened beside you, but still, she said nothing.

“She blamed me,” you continued, the memories clawing their way back to the surface. “Said I killed him before he ever had a chance. And she never let me forget it. Never let me forget that it should’ve been me who didn’t make it.”

Wanda finally looked up, her eyes glistening, red-rimmed with tears she refused to let fall. You didn’t have the same strength. A single tear slipped down your cheek, hot and heavy.

“And for the longest time, I believed her. I thought she was right. I thought it would’ve been better if I hadn’t made it,” you said.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

You shook your head. “Don’t be. And it’s not like… it’s not like I think that way all the time anymore. But I get it. That feeling like maybe you weren’t supposed to be here, like someone else deserved it more. I know what it feels like.”

Wanda's gaze dropped to your hands that were still gripping your knee like a lifeline. She looked like she wanted to reach out and grasp them, but you weren’t ready for that kind of intimacy. You were barely keeping yourself together, and the thought of her touch, however comforting, might be the thing to break you.

“I didn’t know,” she said softly. “About your twin. About your mom. If this... if this was the nightmare I gave you in—”

“No reason you would,” you interrupted, cutting her off before she could finish, before she could drag Johannesburg, and the bitter, consuming hatred you’d felt for her then, into the room. You’ve forgiven her for that, and it was best that it stayed forgotten too. “It’s not exactly a conversation starter.”

She huffed a quiet, almost bitter laugh, but it faded quickly. “Still,” she said, hesitating, “I think… I think you were meant to be here. I don’t know why, but I do. I think there’s a reason.”

You swallowed dryly. “Maybe there’s a reason for you, too.”

Wanda looked hopeful. “Maybe,” she echoed.

Wanda’s shoulder pressed into yours, solid and warm, like she was holding you in place without even realizing it. Neither of you spoke, the silence stretching out just long enough for it to feel safe. Safe to sit here with the mess between you, around you, part of you.

The words she’d said—I think you were meant to be here—kept looping in your head, circling around all the things you’d told yourself for years. All the things you still believed. Maybe you didn’t deserve to be here, but in that moment, you weren’t sure it mattered.

Because she was here. And maybe that was enough.

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trexiejan · 5 months ago

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I have a theory that Tom Taylor copied/took a lot of inspirations from Dickkory.

I may or may not be wrong but I just can't help but notice the timing and the similarities. A lot of things in dickbabs relationship are not very original at all. Most of the time they just steal concept from other couples.

Now going back to Tom, I suspect he was in a lot of social media apps (twitter, reddit, instagram etc) and secretly lurked in nightwing fandom groups and have read their posts and conversations etc. including about dickkory.

1. The concept of visiting his parents' grave

This panel of Kory and Dick showing up in his parents graveyard was shared in the Nightwing subreddit 1 month ago. How come 1 month later Tom wrote a similar thing for Dick and Babs?

Also notice Dick told Kory "You shouldn't be here" but Tom wrote Dick telling Babs "Thanks for coming here" it seems to me Tom really saw the kory comic and wanted to make the dialougue different for dickbabs to make them look better.

2. The concept of wearing each other's superhero costumes.

This fanart of dick and kory exchanging costumes was created by Laurarts on March 4, 2024, it went viral on twitter and it was also shared on the nightwing subreddit.

How come 1 month later Tom Taylor wrote that Dick and Babs wear each other's costumes too in Nightwing #113 that was published in April 17, 2024. 💀.

3. The concept of being freaky

Now my suspicions of Tom stalking and copying Dickkory content was solidified when he literally posted this gif of Dickkory from the DCAMU, notice how Dick and Babs started acting horny and freaky in his run after he tweeted this and Babs started teasing Dick and making sexual jokes to him like Kory does to Dick in the dcamu. 💀💀💀

4. The concept of A crowd of heroes watching them.

I remember a year ago I posted this screenshot of an article discussing the original plan for dickkory in reply to a thread where Tom Taylor got tagged by the person i was talking to. The person was a dickbabs shipper who insisted NTT dickkory was bound to fail, I told OP it's not true, i showed her this screenshot of the article that discussed the original wedding plan for dick and kory and where it also says a crowd of heroes would watch Dick and Kory. How come a few months later Tom Taylor wrote this dickbabs wedding scene in his run and made a crowd of heroes watch dickbabs too??? 💀

5. Wally being a shipper

This panel of Wally in Teen Titans Academy #9 being a Dickkory shipper was published in December 14, 2021, how come a few months later, Tom Taylor wrote Wally being a dickbabs shipper in Nightwing #91 (April 19, 2022). Wally felt ooc because he never once talked about dickbabs before tom wrote him in his book💀

6. The concept of a woman teaching Dick to be more than just a hero

Seriously, Kory already taught him this 😭 She was literally the reason why he didn't become a Batman 2.0, He already learned the whole "you can be more than just a hero and be in a happy relationship" lesson from Kory.

But Tom Taylor just had to bring him back to square 1 so he can make Barbara say this to him too, making her act like Kory 💀 it's funny cuz Barbara never acted like this before, don't forget she was the one who keep rejecting him and making him feel bad for trying to be happy before 💀💀💀

So yeah sorry if i'm being annoying about this, I might be wrong but even if i'm wrong it still doesn't make dickbabs original since dickkory writers and fanartist did these concepts first.

and tom taylor is known to be an obsessed dickbabs shipper who tried to have beef with dickkory shippers on twitter so copying dickkory content as a form of secret revenge sounds like something he would do 😬

#dickbabs #anti dickbabs #antidickbabs #dickkory #nightwing #batgirl #barbara gordon #starfire #anti tom taylor

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ybklix · 11 months ago

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𝐂𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 ♡ 𝐃𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 ₊⊹

CRY BABY .♡⊹ (( bang chan )) mdni this is part 1 » FIC MASTERLIST

Chapters:

1: cry baby ((word count: 4.1k))

2: dollhouse ((word count: 3k))

⋆˙⟡♡

ONE: cry baby

you're all on your own and you lost all your friends, you told yourself that it's not you, it's them ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

It didn't matter how long the journey had been; when it came to reaching his hometown, fatigue and jet lag ceased to exist for Chris once his body felt the air of Australia. He had arrived at a wonderful time, with time to arrange things in his new home and visit his girlfriend.

Chris picked up his phone and sent a text to his girlfriend letting her know he had arrived and that he'd pick her up after work. There were still a couple of hours left, so he decided to order a taxi to take him to his new home. He had planned his stay in Sydney carefully and thoughtfully, considering every angle. It favored him quite a bit; his girlfriend of two and a half years lived here, he could continue working from the comfort of home, and he could pick up extra jobs that he didn't completely dislike. Indeed, for Chris, working hard and keeping his mind occupied was always better.

Everything was going quite perfectly that he couldn't help but smile. He bought his dream house a couple of months ago and had since begun his official move, moving his entire life from Seoul to Sydney. Returning, for him, was something he hadn't expected. He found it almost funny that after all his effort, he returned to where it all began, where everything started as a simple dream. But all his sacrifice had yielded excellent results since he had a steady job and stability, doing what he loved most, writing and producing music. When he announced he had to leave, his colleagues almost tried to stop him. He was quite successful and famous as a producer, but they understood that he could continue working, just not in that distant country anymore.

Chris looked at the beautiful landscapes the city offered through the taxi window. He was so excited that once he spent the afternoon with his partner, he would consider immediately go to visit his family. A long day awaited him, but he knew it would be worth it.

Buying a house in a neighborhood like this, spectacular in every aspect, suitable for childless couples, professionals, and simply for families, whose children rarely went out to play and make noise, and for retired elderly people living alone, was just what he needed, a large space just for him, even though it wasn't part of his plan; but suddenly a change in his life and routine sounded so good. Chris didn't know exactly why a house and not an apartment, to start with, as he had in Seoul; not even his own father understood it, Chris just excused himself saying he needed to own a more spacious place where noise could easily be canceled out, for the construction of his own recording studio... but inside him, perhaps there was a certain instinct that he wanted to start a family soon, he knew exactly that this wasn't his girlfriend's idea, not even as a joke, but maybe, just maybe, there was a tiny feeling like that in him.

Once entering the neighborhood, he felt the warmth of living in Australia again despite it being a slightly cool afternoon with the sun hiding behind the clouds. He never thought he would come to this place; he always believed he would live in Seoul for the rest of his life; he was so excited to start a new life but still leaving aside illusions, if something went wrong, he knew he could flee to Korea whenever he wanted... but he wasn't like that, he was never the type of guy who just run away. In fact, he thought that he left Sydney to pursue a dream, never by choice; it would be a lie to say he didn't like Seoul since it was his home for a long time... but once he could see the green grass, the well-kept roses of the people, he realized he had disconnected a bit and had lived in the noisy city long enough. This was what pleased him the most, nature, and if he wanted more buildings and noise, the city center wasn't far from his new address.

He stood there for a few seconds admiring the facade of his new home and noticed a teenage boy entering the house next door, they must be the neighbors, he thought. When he was initially given a tour of the house, as he stepped out onto the sidewalk, a woman welcomed him, told him her name but Chris didn't remember it, she mentioned that she lived with her family and other things like how much they had started to remodel and modernize that house. Still, he felt strangely safe, the distances between the houses were large enough to provide privacy, to his right was that family he supposed consisted of the teenager, and to his left was an older widow, or at least that's what the real estate agent told him.

He sighed in frustration at the sight of the pile of boxes scattered around and thought that he didn't have enough time, but fortunately, he was always prepared and a step ahead, so the interior designer would come tomorrow with her team to help her move stuff. He had to prepare as soon as possible for the start of his new job in the morning, as a professor at the university. He would teach two subjects related to music at different levels, and a few courses about Asian culture. He was nervous, but he had become a teacher in his spare time, and he felt quite prepared for whatever he might face.

He was hesitating whether to take a nap or move a few things in case Leah, his girlfriend, wanted to come; Chris ran his hand through his hair, thinking, so he opted for the second option; he cleared the living room area, tidied up, cleaned a few things, took a shower, and without thinking twice, it was time to pick up Leah.

He took the keys to his new car, really taking seriously the idea of living in Sydney and being well prepared. Ready to have a new life. He felt tense when he realized that he would be driving in Australia again and that the steering wheel was on the right side, unlike his old home where he had obtained his license from a very young age. Still, he set his GPS and left; this time, as he passed by the house next door, he now noticed it was a girl entering the house.

When he finally picked up his girlfriend, the sky was completely dark, and he noticed how tired she looked; Chris felt slightly bad and reproached himself for not thinking earlier and not bringing her a small romantic gesture of welcome, even though he was the one who had just arrived. They hadn't seen each other for a long month, he missed his girlfriend so much that it almost physically hurt not to be with her. A few seconds later, Leah's expression softened, and her serious demeanor turned into a warm smile.

“Channie” she called him affectionately by his Korean nickname, almost in a sigh, and extended her arms.

Finally, they hugged for just the right amount of time and exchanged a tender kiss. He had met her almost three years ago in Seoul; she worked in advertising for a magazine and was somewhat related to the entertainment world, so her social circle was so similar to Chris's; like him, Leah had grown up in Australia with Korean parents, the only difference being that she did have her whole life back in Oceania; still, he was captivated by her at that party, she was only two years younger than him, Leah at that time was just a beginner still in college on a trip in Seoul with her other circle of friends, and he was a recent graduate with a special gift. Despite the differences, they decided to give it a try, leading them to a long-distance relationship for just over two years, but it didn't matter now, at least not anymore for him; right now, he was with her, and he could have her whenever he wanted.

Chris, or Chan to her, caressed his girlfriend's face as he gave her a gentle kiss, breathing in her perfume one last time before pulling away and lowering his hand to her bare thigh with a smile.

“Do you want to go out to eat? Should we go somewhere...?” he spoke.

“Mm, let's order food and you can show me your house.”

“It's still a bit of a mess” he warned.

Chris let out a small laugh and did exactly as Leah had suggested. She had been inside the house before, but she was always surprised at how well laid out it was in terms of space and design. He found her reaction endearing and with a smile on his face, he thought about how all of this might one day belong to her too. They both headed to eat at the small and only nightstand table in his TV room; some larger items were arriving tomorrow, so for now, that was what they could improvise with. As they ate, Leah kept talking about how stuff should be arranged to create harmony and coherence in the house. Chris listened attentively and lovingly; they talked about their respective jobs and what awaited them.

After sitting in silence and letting the food settle for a while, Leah spoke.

“Is your room upstairs...”

Chris turned to look at her; not seeing her for a long time suddenly had a quick effect on him, and from one second to the next, he found her ten times more attractive.

“Yeah, do you want to give it your approval?” he replied playfully, hoping this would lead to something else.

Chris looked at her profile for a few seconds before she turned and gave him a teasing smile in response. He examined her, from her smooth, slightly upturned nose and her legs barely exposed by the skirt, to her shiny, loose silk blouse. Suddenly, every detail of her drove him crazy and made him feel like a hormonal teenager. He wanted to fuck her right there, right now.

He felt that her mischievous smile and soft gaze were enough signals for him, so he dangerously leaned in and pressed his lips against hers. He started slow and passionate, his right hand traveling up to the hem of her skirt, playing with the thin seam, unsure whether to slide his hand gently between her thighs or do it quickly in one swift motion, while the other hand firmly held her waist. Chris was gradually losing himself, his tongue slipping in, giving her a bolder, dirtier kiss; however, after a torturous session of just wet and hot kisses, Leah squirmed out of his grasp and pulled away from him slowly.

Chris looked confused, but his girlfriend's expression only worried him. With her pink, swollen lips, Leah suddenly seemed shy, with her eyes cast down. In seconds, Chris realized that maybe it was just something she didn't feel like doing right now, and he respected that... but it still seemed quite strange to him. Had she pushed him away? Since when did she reject him? Every time they saw each other, because of their painful long-distance relationship, the most intense and pleasurable sex awaited them.

Chris wanted to believe that maybe it wasn't the best situation for her, tired in her work clothes after a long day.

“It's a bit late... and we both have to work tomorrow” she said, raising her gaze and captivating Chris's gaze, “You'll do great, love” she smiled.

He knew her so well, he didn't understand why she suddenly gave him an awkward smile pretending to be kind... Had something bothered her, and he had no idea? He wanted to ask her so many things, but Leah stood up from her position on the floor and grabbed her bag.

“I really need to rest, and it's getting late. See you tomorrow?” she interrupted.

Chris quickly got up and gently took her waist.

“Of course, I'll drive you home.”

As they got into the car, Chris looked at the completely quiet street, with no noise, the houses perfectly illuminated, there was no one outside except for the two of them and the mysterious girl next door coming out of her house with the cold wind blowing her hair.

During the drive, Leah became herself again, outgoing and energetic. She told her boyfriend how they should spend the short break he had as teachers in September; he just thought about how grateful he was to have a sweet moment with her and looked at her with tenderness when the traffic lights indicated he should stop... yet, he was a little hurt, deep down, slightly bruising his pride as a man that he didn't get any physical intimacy from his girlfriend that night... he had waited so long, he thought he could reward her, and when his house is no longer a mess, he would make sure to satisfy her and shower her with gifts.

“I'll see you tomorrow, Chan” she leaned in, giving him a quick goodbye kiss, “Call me.”

Again, for the third time that day, she felt strange to him. It was obvious she wouldn't be the same young woman she used to be, capable of throwing a party every time they saw each other... but he felt there was something about her that she had to tell him as soon as possible, or he would go crazy. It wasn't surprising, Chris was an intense guy.

Once he returned home, he threw the keys with fury... he had tried to keep his sanity, but the more he overthought it on the way back home, the less sense it made to him. She didn't anger him, never could he be angry with her, it just, maybe, he thought, it was about him.

He went up to his room, in one swift movement he took off his shirt, feeling the cold air seeping through the small opening in his window. He checked the time on his phone, 11:43 p.m., he needed to rest, to take a shower in the morning and start his day... but he could only think about the romantic date options he could do on a simple Monday.

As he took a few steps towards his bed, approaching it, he noticed through his window how a faint, warm light, not so noticeable, managed to penetrate into his dark room. He turned his body and cursed for not remembering to put up curtains before; for a moment, he felt sorry for not realizing that significant detail, he was so used to the large windows in his old apartment in Seoul restricting the view. It was obvious that there was another room, right next to his.

Chris didn't want to pay attention, but catching the subtle silhouette of a girl sitting by his window captivated him inconsistently. She was wearing a thin white tank top despite the cold weather. He thought about how warm her room looked while giving it a quick inspection. The girl had her face buried in her naked knees, and her loose hair covered her face; her arms embraced her legs. Suddenly, she pushed her hair behind her ears, revealing just her profile. Yet it wasn't hard for Chris to see that she was crying. Her cheek was shining, wet, and he could see the small tears sliding down.

The girl by the window began to sob, causing her back and chest to contract. Chris suddenly didn't want to watch; he felt like he was invading her privacy and pain. But somehow, he couldn't stop watching her; he was so dismayed, but he was more bothered by the fact that he couldn't take his eyes off her.

He had no idea how long he had been watching her... but somehow, deep down, he thought, in the most hidden part of himself, that she looked strangely beautiful crying. The large rectangular window frame captured that girl with glowing cheeks and slightly messy hair, crying in what seemed to be a corner with books and a seat by the window.

The girl by the window closed her eyes tightly and slowly lay down, facing away from Chris's window, ending the performance completely. Finally, he reacted; she was still sobbing, her back moving uncontrollably, but it was harder to see her now.

Chris didn't know what had come over him; he almost felt annoyed that his neighbor didn't put up her own curtains. He could see everything, from his bed, which was positioned so that it faced his room directly, to his posters on the wall, to her backpack thrown on the floor.

Chris sighed and tried not to worry about his neighbor anymore. He wanted to think it was just a young girl in the age of broken hearts and not something deeper... but she was crying with such emotion that it made his head spin. He puffed his cheeks, letting out a sigh, and, retreating to the window, he took off his pants, slipping into his sheets, making sure she wouldn't accidentally turn and see him. Unlike her room, his bed was positioned sideways, his front door facing his bed, and her room's door was on the right side of the bed. Somehow, he felt like her room was more exposed, so he would have to move to avoid causing her any discomfort.

At dawn, the light bothered him, and he prayed that the girl had her curtains closed. Otherwise, he would have to get up semi-naked, and if she saw him, she might think he was a pervert. And just for his luck, some pretty white lace curtains covered her window; Chris was able to leave freely and go to wash up, taking his clothes with just a towel covering his lower half and changing in another room.

Chris looked at himself in the mirror, wondering if his outfit was appropriate: formal pants with a black button-up shirt. He wanted to think it was the best option for winter. He adjusted his dark hair before heading downstairs for breakfast, tired of boxes everywhere; he hoped everything would be in order between today and tomorrow for a better rest.

As he left, driving his car towards the university, he saw her again, walking down the sidewalk in the same direction as him; the famous girl who had been crying by her window, his neighbor, wearing blue jeans, white ankle boots, and a thin pale pink sweater. He saw her so fleetingly that he only saw her profile once again and noticed her backpack slung across her body.

And then she saw him too, just in a quick glance, driving his car, dressed all in black. She hadn't seen him completely, they hadn't even introduced themselves, but her mother confirmed it, he's a very handsome young man, he lives alone, and he bought the property outright, he must have a lot of money. His name is Christopher.

She had seen him at least twice, an embarrassing encounter in the morning when she tried to open her curtains just before leaving home, as she always did, but found his broad back naked, wearing only a towel while holding his clothes; Celeste immediately slid the curtain with embarrassment and just left her room. She hated to admit her mother was right, but the short two seconds she saw of his build weren't bad at all. And the second time was just moments ago as she headed to the university.

So that's her new neighbor, a man who emerged out of nowhere, bought that modernized house that had been empty for so long. She was so used to there being no one next to her room, now she had to be careful of walking around wearing with what she’s comfortable with.

Celeste took a couple of buses and one more subway line to reach her campus, where the first classes went by normally, and it wasn’t until brunch when the only person she talked to approached her.

“Celeste” he said to her.

She looked up from her food, observed him, gave him a smile, and invited him to sit with her gaze.

“I heard we’re finally getting a music teacher” he said again.

“Wow, it’s about time, it’s been a week”, she replied.

The guy smiled at Celeste and took one of her fries.

“There’s going to be an art exhibition, you should come” he suggested.

“When?” she asked.

“Friday at 7.”

Celeste raised her eyes, thinking if she had to work that day and concluded that if she asked for the day off they’d give it to her since she worked a week with no days off, she could perfectly go see Hyunjin’s exhibition.

It wasn’t new for Celeste to be somewhat… strange. She didn’t know how to explain it, but little by little, she distanced herself from all the people she once spoke comfortably with, and surprisingly, the handsome exchange student was the only one who talked to her. He was two years older than her and was studying visual arts, yet he decided to take music courses, and that’s where they met.

“I’ll be there” Celeste replied, checking the time on her phone. “We still have about 20 minutes ‘till class” she added.

Hyunjin smiled at her; he was quite handsome and popular, so a part of Celeste wants to feel human and like him like most do, if she paid proper attention to him... she could develop feelings for him, she hated the feeling part, and that feelings lead her to false illusions but she felt that in her dull life she needed to at least, have a little crush on someone. Maybe that would help distract her.

Falling in love was something Celeste didn't know, something that was out of her hands and even something she thinks is out of her reach. It's not that she doesn't want to have attention and affection... she just gave up and decided to think that maybe life is lonely for her. Her last intimate encounter and affection for a man was when she was 13 years old at a birthday party when she was dared to kiss someone, that was her last and first kiss. The rest of her years she lived normally without the opportunity of a prospect and love... that was one of the last things she thought and cried about, truly. Love.

The depression and anxiety was diminishing her libido and she remembers that maybe the last time she masturbated out of boredom was a year ago.

But Hyunjin... Celeste thought about whether she should like him, whether she should bring excitement into her life for the first time in twenty years.

She was an interesting and pretty girl, shy, but lonely, she isolated herself too much and lived absorbing the pain and problems of her surroundings; her issue was that she felt too much that sometimes she would go into a kind of self-control, on automatic, off without feeling anything, until she overloaded herself and exploded, it was always the same with her and she felt pathetic that she could never change. Her behavior led her to pull away from everyone... wondering why they didn't come back to her, maybe it's them, not me, she thought constantly.

Celeste watched Hyunjin closely as they talked for 10 minutes and the next 10 they used it to walk to the classroom. She was quite observant and took it upon herself to memorize every detail about him, his full lips, his eyelids hiding in his sharp brown eyes, the almost invisible mole under his eye, thick dark eyebrows, long hair and big hands, come on Celeste, feel something, she thought.

She wanted to bang her head against the wall, only then did she think she would come to her senses to feel something for someone as attractive as Hyunjin, besides he was an artist and the only person nice to her... she felt like a heartless bitch.

Arriving at the classroom, Hyunjin and Celeste sat together and the teacher was already inside as well. She spotted his silhouette as she passed, but saw him completely once again looked up at him... suddenly he seemed so similar, those broad shoulders and all black clothes, she shouldn't have been excited, but something small grew inside her, perhaps the intrigue that maybe her teacher is also her new neighbor? Suddenly the big city she always grew up in seemed small to her with such a coincidence.

Celeste was at least ninety percent sure it was him, she watched him a minute longer and as she felt their gazes cross, she turned to Hyunjin, embarrassed. Class started two minutes later and he finally introduced himself.

“I am Christopher Bang. Sorry for the delay of the subject by a week.”

TWO: dollhouse

places, places, get in your places, throw on your dress and put on your doll faces. everyone thinks that we're perfect, please don't let them look through the curtains ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Celeste had lived in that house her whole life. It was only when she turned 18 and graduated that she managed to leave for a year and breathe… but due to economic reasons, she had to return. It's not that she wasn't grateful… she just needed a break from what her family could sometimes be.

Her father was an accountant who worked hard to provide his children with a home in what was considered one of the best neighborhoods in the city. At least she agreed that he did the right thing in that regard. However, he was insolent, dishonest, and unfaithful. She discovered her father's infidelity when she was only eleven years old, one June night when her father probably thought the house was completely empty since her mother usually took them —her younger brother and her— to visit their aunt… but that day was different, one of those when Celeste's puberty rebellion hit, and she refused to go with them. So, she wanted to stay in her room… until she saw them, him and his lover entering the house. She was so surprised, scared, and overwhelmed with emotions that she didn't know what to do, so she pretended not to be there. Overnight, her innocence was gone in an unpleasant way.

She couldn't live with the guilt, so a year later, she confessed it to her mother. Celeste already knew the gravity of the situation by then and had considered a million options that could happen: her mother going crazy, even blaming her daughter for not telling her, or a calm and depressive reaction… but in all scenarios, Celeste maturely considered divorce as a good option. She felt that she was no longer a child, she could live with it; after all, she had discovered that her father was not a good person and that her mother could take care of them. The only concern of poor twelve-year-old Celeste was her younger brother, who at the age of eight, for them, everything seemed like a fairytale, and having both parents was part of their fantasy world. She hated that she cared and loved him… but she was sure that the little one could overcome a divorce. She didn't want to be there anymore; she couldn't even look at her father in the eyes, she was always avoiding any encounter with him.

But her mother's reaction to the truth was… something different from the expected options. Even after years had passed, it still seemed so strange to her. They were there, sitting in the dining room, and it was three days after Celeste turned 12, on a rainy day in July when Celeste got tired of crying and wondering every night why… her birthday celebration made her angry; she didn't feel so sad and dejected anymore. She hated the way her father pretended to love her and everything was fine, the way he played with her brother and gave her mother a kiss on the cheek, she couldn't stand it anymore, so she told her mother. That time she had murmured an oh, and stared fixedly at a fixed point.

“I know, because I saw them,” Celeste said before her mother even asked anything else, but she didn't, she didn't do anything and was shocked. During the night, it was as if nothing had happened, and she served dinner… that wasn't what she expected, she wanted a scene and chaos; she wanted there to be shouts, but somehow she was grateful that there was no such behavior because of Celeste's little brother. But she was blinded by hatred and remorse towards her father.

The next day she remembers that she reproached her mother, shouting, “won't you do anything?”. She didn't answer. After that, she felt so cold and distant, her father was becoming more and more obvious with his affairs, the smell of a perfume that wasn't his wife's, spontaneous outings, and even nights without returning home.

Celeste couldn't stand pretending to be okay, and two months later, after seeing how her mother deteriorated and faded more and more, she walked to her father's small office in the house, being completely a mess, and told him the truth. “I know you have another woman, maybe mom wants to keep pretending with you but I can't.”

She remembered her father's expression, the surprise on his face and its paleness. Celeste didn't expect a response from him, so she was about to leave, but back then her father acted quickly, getting up from his chair and questioning her. “I saw you, don't try to deny it.”

The following years were him trying to fix it and build a bond with her but it was in vain; suddenly her little brother wondered why his father was too lenient with his sister. Celeste lived through her remaining teenage years trying to be someone normal until she finally got lost in music; she didn't want to spend time at home so she tried to enroll in all the extracurricular courses at her school that didn't involve physical effort like sports. Months later after her horrible confrontation, she found a passion for the piano, all her following school years were based on music, being in recitals whose events she never invited either of her parents to, playing for the drama club, being in the literature club, debate club, creative writing club… until she enrolled in her chosen university dedicated to that one thing she was passionate about.

At first, she knew she would annoy her parents with her career choice, but it was the perfect time to blackmail her father to pay for her institution. She wasn't anywhere near forgiving him, but the psychological damage somehow had a price: getting out of that house. Celeste had a busy life, after rehearsals, she started having part-time jobs since she was sixteen with the dream of living in her own space near the university.

She was so busy, she would come home around 10 or 11 at night and what she found at home was devastating. Her mother was a secretary who became a housewife after her second child was born, a boy named Blake. She dedicated 12 years to taking care of her children until she found out about her husband's infidelity. Cecille gradually became an alcoholic.

Celeste had to see it every night when she came home from work. Her wasted mother lying on the couch with the TV on and a strong smell of alcohol. Celeste had tried everything, her aunt's intervention, enrolling her in support groups, but her mother didn't seem to cooperate.

When she turned fifteen, she begged her father to divorce her mother, but she refused to accept it.

Every now and then she had to go check on her brother, to make sure he didn't turn into a complete idiot like his father, or simply into a bad person, related to what was he seeing at home. But even in that, both dysfunctional parents were lucky, Blake was a shy boy, four years younger than Celeste, who grew up with a passion for physics and mathematics; unlike her, he did go out in the afternoons with his friends and lived a life outside of his home. He didn't care how bad things were, as long as he had somewhere to live and his own space he was more than okay, even when he was fourteen he managed to steal alcohol from his mother to go try it at a friend's house later, not everything had to be so bad, or at least that's what he thought… sometimes Celeste wanted to be like him and try not to worry too much. Little by little, both of them grew up without showing affection, Celeste thought that maybe that's why it wasn't something she sought in other people, her perception of love and respect had been so damaged since she was young but she couldn't accept it. She never felt anything when she saw her classmates holding hands, seeing the cheesy actions of strangers showing affection, a hug was something she only remembered fleetingly from her childhood.

When she finally turned eighteen, she found a roommate and rented a dorm room on campus; that place wasn't her dream, the floor was noisy, full of extroverted theater kids, but it was all she had. She had lived like that for a whole year, with no communication to her parents, working and studying at the same time, only communicating with her brother to wish him Merry Christmas and New Year, and in May, to wish him a happy birthday. It all fell apart in her second year of school when her roommate told her she was moving out and Celeste couldn't afford the full expense, she already had an academic scholarship and her parents were still paying for her institution.

Celeste did it, she called her brother on a normal day that wasn't a holiday, her little brother advised her that she could go back home, that's what he would do when he entered college, since it would only take him routes and buses to get there. “I'll let mom and dad know,” he told her over the phone before abruptly hanging up. Celeste couldn't answer, she couldn't say don't do it. And she insisted by text that she would manage on her own. That day her heart broke when she read the text from her fifteen-year-old brother saying: why do you hate them? come back home for me the uni is literally half an hour away from home

She had no choice, she had everything, she wouldn't pay rent, her payment at the university would continue, she would only work to buy her own things and take care of Blake. She never thought he would feel abandoned. She thought about how much it must have sucked to come home alone, with an absent father and an alcoholic mother.

When she told her roommate that she would return to her home in Woollahra, her expression was incredulous, “you've been living there all this time? Why would you want to live in an uncomfortable dorm?”. Celeste wondered if she was being ungrateful.

And then she returned, her father couldn't be happier, and even her mother's dull face lit up at having her only daughter back. She would go back to being the same, practically just going home to sleep.

If she had everything… why did she feel so empty. Her room was still the same as they had decorated it since she was eight, covered in pale pink and white shades. The years passed and she continued to support her brother, going to academic competitions he attended, and for the first time, she asked him to come see her perform at a recital in her university's auditorium.

And so her life remained, until now that she felt stuck once again, in her third year of university. She felt like she was repeating her high school years and it was suffocating her. If she could leave with Blake she would, but she was just a simple university student with anxiety attacks in the school bathrooms.

“You should ask the new guy next door if he has a girlfriend, seriously, he's cute, Celeste. You've never had a boyfriend, right?” her mother mentioned, leaning on the kitchen counter.

Celeste looked at her incredulously, wondering since when her private life mattered to her, and if she had a boyfriend, it wouldn't be something she'd inform her about. She was about to leave for university, she didn't want those kinds of conversations at 7 in the morning.

“Ew, isn't he like thirty?” her brother added, eating a spoonful of his cereal.

“Age can just be a number, Blakey, we want your sister to find love.”

“I have to go” Celeste sighed, escaping the conversation.

She couldn't stop thinking about it. Once again, she was right, why couldn't she find love? Her only friend, whom she rarely contacted, moved in with her mother in Melbourne after finishing high school. And now socializing at university where classmates change and come and go, it was so difficult for her to establish any kind of relationship with anyone. The only person she talked to was… an exchange student who shared only one class on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Celeste couldn't help but wonder if she should start flirting with him, just to try to feel something in return.

Every time she examined him more… she realized how cute he was, should she approach him? Anyway, he would leave at the end of the semester, no one could die trying.

When they sat together in class, she couldn't help but be distracted by thoughts that tomorrow she would dress up more for Hyunjin, fix her hair more, wear more makeup… the idea of being liked by someone made her so nervous.

And when she looked up, she saw her new teacher, who she could swear was her new handsome neighbor.

As the class began, she remembered her mother's voice saying he was handsome, and without realizing it, a slight mocking smile appeared on her face as she analyzed her new teacher's appearance in detail. Slightly tanned skin, short, dark brown hair semi-wavy, his intense gaze beneath his slit eyes, prominent nose, and thick lips… and his voice was strong, commanding, and nasal, and his build was… Celeste thought… was this what imagination was like when dealing with the sudden rush of hormones?

She had the idea that maybe she wasn't the only one so surprised and delighted by the assignment of the new teacher. She discreetly turned her gaze to the sides, to her other classmates, and noticed how they looked at him intensely without taking their eyes off the man giving the class, Celeste felt foolish, had she looked so obvious? Had Hyunjin noticed?

Once the class ended, Chris said:

“Before you all leave…” he approached his desk and quickly and gently picked up a paper from his desk, “Is Celeste Burton here?” he looked up searching among the students.

Celeste frowned and timidly raised her hand, Hyunjin quickly glanced at her friend and then at the teacher, it also seemed strange to him but he didn't pay attention to it; Chris finally managed to perceive her and added:

“Can you come up for a moment to talk?”

His gaze fixed on hers, Celeste nodded gently and began to gather her things, suddenly she was feeling nervous and not understanding why.

“The rest of you, I'll see you tomorrow” Chris concluded.

With a nervous smirk, Celeste was about to approach but a warm and large hand holding her wrist made her turn, Hyunjin was so close to her face that she couldn't even react.

“I have to go to the arts campus now, but I'll see you tomorrow, Cel” he informed her with a smile, almost feeling his cool breath.

“Sure.”

She limited herself to answer, she was so overwhelmed by the situation's overload, Chris wanted to talk to her and suddenly Hyunjin was approaching dangerously, she couldn't process it. Celeste returned her gaze to Chris, who had his eyes fixed on Hyunjin until he left the classroom, after feeling Celeste's soft gaze, he cleared his throat and looked at her, waiting for her to come closer.

Celeste walked to his desk and the last two students had already left the classroom, leaving only the two of them; she didn't want to appear nervous, she didn't have to be.

“You signed up during the academic break as an apprentice to some teacher at the beginning of the school year” Celeste quickly processed the information while he made eye contact with her, “well Burton, I'll be your mentor, is that okay?”

“Oh, sure, I didn't know I had been selected… it's a pleasure, Professor Bang.”

Chris gave her a smile and observed her, her still and straight posture with her hands together against her jeans.

“Yes well, the other students applied for classes with other teachers, but you were selected as my apprentice, I heard you're the best in the class.”

Chris raised his eyebrows waiting for a reaction from her to his last comment and suddenly he realized that he was starting to ramble, he didn't understand why he did it. He shook his head slightly and tried to refocus.

“I want to discuss schedules. Wednesday is general rehearsal, so I like discipline, how about Monday to Friday excluding Wednesday, from 1 to 4? It'll be in the music room, for tomorrow.”

Chris looked at her intently and Celeste began to think… she would have to shorten her work hours if she said yes, she couldn't miss the opportunity, it would be so beneficial to her resume, she wants to believe that he is a good teacher in terms of his knowledge and being his apprentice could lead her to expand her mind. But she would have to sacrifice a few hours of work; despite being sunk in sadness, she liked the little things like makeup, clothes, going to nice cafes, visiting the cinema alone, all without having to ask her parents for money at her twenty years old, so being his apprentice would only mean a little less pay, and working with him, or for him, for free.

Celeste thought for a second about how young he looked to be a mentor, she wondered if he was really qualified.

“You can’t…?” he interrupted her, expecting an answer.

“Oh, sure, yes, I'll be there. Thank you.”

She smiled at him and Chris returned the gesture. Celeste was about to leave when the female desire to play a little took over.

She was steps away from walking through the door, but she turned, with a playful smile she searched his gaze, Chris was drawn to her sudden movement thinking that maybe she had forgotten to say something.

“By the way, Mr. Bang, did you just move to Woollahra?” he looked at her with a slight furrow of his brow and she continued :“Oh, I didn’t want to sound weird; I just think we're neighbors now too. So, welcome.”

Her tone was so sweet and innocent yet somehow wicked; Chris recognized the slight intentions of approach.

She left and left him sure of one thing, that it was her, the pretty and poor girl who cried through her window the night before. Chris swallowed, she's even prettier up close, he thought.

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

₊˚⊹ ᰔ TAGLIST: @forklesschowder @bubblebisk @calisnewworld @sunarins-whore @bangchansslut6 @snowyquokka @chansbabygirlsstuff @athforskz @heeyboooo @chrizzztopherbang @yerijaksel @moonlightndaydreams @readr1221 @skzswife

lmk if u want to be add 2 the taglist☆

divider by chilumitos

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blorbocedes · 4 months ago

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when I got into f1 a few years ago, im pretty sure the friends who had introduced me to it hadn't expected how much I'd get into it. I certainly never expected it. but wow. max was my guy before I even knew who he or f1 was, and then I was so privileged to watch him win and win and win. the literal peak of his career. 4 championships in a row. this season was extremely enjoyable as a racing fan, I had full belief max would win the championship so it was a matter of how and not if. and he proved me right! but such a competitive season, so many other teams getting their foot in, so many new first wins, surprise upsets. from next year it'll be a completely new f1, half the grid is gonna be freshmen, lewis in ferrari which I still haven't digested. ultimately in a way im glad this final race was a lando win and ferrari podium because it showed how much the status quo has shifted. max nowhere near the podium and how redbull are going into next year no longer the favourites to win. and unlike the last 3 years where I watched every single race I realized I can't do that anymore. At times f1 was a wonderful distraction when irl got really hard, but at some point - like the drivers going thru radical transformation, lewis leaving merc, nico leaving monaco, max becoming a dad! before this season lando had never won a race and now he's ready to fight for a championship crazyyy - I had to wonder if putting away time and cancelling plans for 24 weekends keeps me stuck in the same place. change is hard and scary. having a routine, of f1 to go back to is nice. but when does it become a crutch? was something I was thinking of this year. that's why I chose to enjoy watching every race to the fullest, and I honestly had a blast. because I knew I couldn't be doing that anymore. my favourite part about f1 is the community and the friends. I love you guys, I love writing, I love digging up lore, I love reading fics, I love the drama of silly season, I love the funny talented interesting people, sometimes even the fan wars are entertaining. and I don't want to lose that. so when I say my last full season, I mean I don't think I'll be making time for all 24 races next year. but I plan on sticking around and being here, for a while at least. I mean, we have this whole season to now digest and go crazy over and that part is done best with community. I have entire fics left to post!!! I don't know how much I'll be around next year, maybe I'll miss f1 too much by March, maybe redbull will be really fast. I know I'll always cherish this year as the best entire f1 season I followed, and im happy to end it at that. sorry 2 the haters who thought I was leaving for good 😁

tldr: this isn't the last you'll see of me. still here. this isn't the end. it's the slow start of the long goodbye

#i was thinking of adding a readmore then i realized its my blog i can emotional long post if i want #if max had announced his retirement I would've left for good because I respect the nico girlies who deactivated after 2016 so much

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enhaheeseung · 1 year ago

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Here to stay - L. Heeseung

Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!

Warning: mentions of sex, angst, heartbreak, fluff, crying.

Genre: fuck buddies, smut, mdni!

WC: 2,881k maybe a little more

Continuation of “Come & Go”

It's been one month since heeseung blocked you.

One whole month.

It was weird not hearing from you. It felt even more weird not getting up at two in the morning to run to your place and pleasure you.

Because he had cut all ties with you, he was sleeping earlier these days, but funny enough. His body was still waking him up at 2 in the morning, the time you'd usually call for him.

He felt pathetic cause his body was betraying his willpower to move on from you. Even if he was fighting for his mind to be occupied elsewhere, his heart still ached for you.

He was currently lying in bed, his phone clutched in his hand tightly, thumb itching to unblock your number.

"Fuck” he curses out loud and shuts his phone off, trying his best to respect the deal he made with Jay and ultimately trying to get over you, but it was so damn hard.

After nearly a year of being with you, it felt impossible to forget you. It felt impossible to move on with his life and find someone who would respect and love him for who he is and not just his body.

But fuck if he had to choose between you and true love, he's definitely picking you. Yeah, it hurt to be cast aside after being used by you, but it hurt so good that he'd always go back for more and more until you finally had your way and were done with him.

"Laying in bed all day isn't going to help" Jay opens his bedroom door without even knocking.

"Yeah, I kinda figured that out after the first week." heeseung rolls his eyes and sits up against his bed frame.

"The guys and I are going out. Do you want to come?" Jay fiddles with the lock on the doorknob.

"I'll pass." heeseung runs his fingers through his messy hair, sighing deeply.

"Well, the guys were hoping you could come so…" Jay murmurs.

"I'll make it up to all of you later. I still just need some time," Jay nods in understanding.

"Take your time." Jay slowly backs out of heeseung's room and closes the door silently.

"I just need some time," Heeseung quietly repeats to convince himself that all he needs is time, but even when he says it out loud, something in the pit of his stomach just doesn't feel right.

You sighed as you sat down at your desk at work, completely stressed out of your mind.

You could already tell you were going to have a headache when you got home tonight cause today has been nothing but a shit day.

It's one of those days where, just a month ago, you'd already be planning to call heeseung over so he could work his magic on your body and take all your stress away.

But no, because he blocked you cause he wanted more from you, and when he saw he wasn't getting it, he knew when to walk away.

You hate how you took him for granted. He was a great guy, amazing at sex and even better at cuddling you, and he also wasn't shy about making his like for you known.

You were just a piece of shit that disregarded him as a person with feelings and only saw him for what he could give to you, which was mind-blowing sex.

If you could have a do-over, then you surely would, one where you confessed to him and realized your feelings for him a whole hell of a lot sooner.

But you let your fear of being lied to and cheated on get in the way of your true happiness.

But could you even be blamed? Every man you were with did that to you, hence why you gave up on relationships and only had sexual transactions now.

But even you have to admit that Lee heeseung wasn't like Every Man. unfortunately, it took you too long to figure that out, and now here you are, heartbroken again because you let the past ruin your future. You did your best to stop that from happening and it still wasn't enough.

At least now a great guy like him could find someone who cared about him and loved him the way he deserved instead of someone like you who hid your feelings and was only going to confess after a whole year of practically using his body.

It hurt, but you hope he's happy with someone that's his equal and not a total piece of shit like you.

Who are you kidding?

It's not that simple; you wish it was, but you were going to be feeling this pain for days, if not months. Yeah, it was selfish of you to still want him around even after you played with his feelings for years, but it couldn't be helped.

If only you could have realized that he was worth taking a chance on months ago, maybe he'd be your boyfriend, maybe you'd be living together, maybe you'd be married and planning to have a family and live happily ever after.

The thought brings tears to your eyes, so you push your fairytale ideas to the side, focusing back on work before all your co-workers notice you shedding a few tears.

Another week had gone by, and heeseung felt the same. He knows they say it takes three months to get over someone, but how could he stay away from you that long? It was impossible, and that's why he's sneaking out of his and Jay's shared apartment to go to your place; being away from you was killing him inside. Even if you'd only use his body for sex and kick him out, it was still better than not being able to see or touch you at all.

He arrived some odd minutes later and jogged up the stairs to your building, heart racing in his chest, and he just hoped you wouldn't turn him away. He hopes you still at least just want him for sex. That'd be enough for him. Just knowing that you wanted something from him would be enough. He knows it's pathetic. He knows he deserves better, but he wants you, and he doesn't care if that makes him a loser. All he cares about is you.

The clock had just hit 2 in the morning, and you didn't know why you were holding your phone as if you could call him still, but you were. Maybe it was muscle memory, or maybe it was the only thing holding your emotions in check.

You laughed at yourself pathetically, but deep down, a part of you felt like you deserved this pain, and with that thought, you set your phone aside as the silence crept up on you, and instead of wallowing in self pity you were just going to go to sleep and wait for tomorrow so you could feel all these emotions again just this time it'd be a new time and a new date.

The knock on your door stops you in your tracks on your way to your bedroom you shake your head in disbelief because now you were even hallucinating the familiar sound of his knock.

You continued to walk to your bedroom until you heard it again and again, and there was no way that was just a hallucination, especially when the knocks became more frequent.

Heeseung was relentless outside your door. He wasn't going to stop until you let him in. He's sure you probably saw him outside the peephole by now, and he's not sure if you still even care to answer since he was the one who blocked you but fuck it, he was here now, and he wasn't taking no for an answer he needed you, and he needed you tonight.

He heard a soft click, the same one he always heard when you unlocked the door for him. His knocks came to a halt when he saw a faint light peaking through the crack of your door, and within a second, he stepped inside and slammed the door shut behind him, closing any type of personal space you once had. "Heeseun-" he doesn't even let you speak before he's jumping your bones, hands squeezing your waist as his lips met yours in a rushed kiss.

"Sorry I blocked you," he breathes out against your lips, still holding you tightly so you can't slip through his fingers. "Sorry I stopped coming, sorry I didn't answer," you moan into the kiss, hands strongly gripping his shoulders as you try to grasp what's happening.

You were shocked to see him, but you couldn't comprehend anything before you were making out with him, and right now, nothing else mattered but your lips working in perfect sync with each others.

"It was my friend's idea" he started trailing kisses down your neck, his large veiny hands cupping your tits roughly, causing you to arch your back and press yourself closer to him. "Said I should stop seeing you." he nibbled the skin of your neck as you moaned quietly. "But I couldn't. No matter how much you use me, I still want you," he whispers in your ear, his hot breath leaving a tingle running down your spine.

"Wait," you tell him breathlessly and push his shoulders, creating some distance between the two of you.

"Can't." he steps closer, lips pressing roughly against yours until you push him back again. "Please, I'll do anything. Please, just don't kick me out," he begs in a whiny voice. "I don't care if you only want me for sex. As long as you want me, that's enough."

"Heeseu-" he leans into you, his voice wobbly as he says the words he's been wanting to say for what feels like forever.

"I love you." he presses his face against your neck, inhaling your scent as his arms naturally wrap around you.

You hear him sniffle softly, and your heart breaks because none of what he was saying was how you felt, maybe in the very beginning, but definitely not now. "Hey," you cup his cheeks, making him look up at you, his watery eyes boring into your own. "I don't just want you for sex, okay, you're so much more than that, and I can't believe I'm saying this cause I never thought I'd utter the words again but fuck heeseung, I love you too. I love you so much," you whisper, hands running along his neck soothingly.

That's it. Lee heeseung had finally broken all your walls and infiltrated your heart. You thought they were impenetrable, but it turns out all you needed was someone who actually truly cared about you and not someone who was just using you for their own satisfaction.

He looks back and forth between your eyes, obviously confused by your words, and you laugh lightly because of his cute expression. "You don't have to say that just because I di-" You shut him up with one long-awaited meaningful kiss.

He was beyond happy to hear you saying those words to him, but this couldn't be real, could it? He must still be back at his apartment, dreaming of this moment that he had dreamt of a million times.

But your next words proved otherwise. "I know it's sudden, baby, I know, but I love you," You peck his cute pouted lips. "I just couldn't bring myself to tell you how I truly felt. I've been hurt so many times in the past, and I was just scared to move on with you, but I should have seen you were different from the start. I should have never strung you along and played with your feelings. I'm so sorry for everything, and I'm just so happy you're here now, and I can tell you how much you mean to me. You're so perfect, Lee Heeseung," you told him sincerely while stroking his soft cheek with your thumb, eyes full of nothing but love. "And I would be the luckiest girl on the planet to have all your love, and if you're willing to give me another chance, I want to give that same love back to you."

He's grinning from ear to ear, elated by the three words you just confessed to him.

He expected this to go so much differently than it has, but he wouldn't want it any other way. He can't believe you loved him back, like you actually felt the same way for him as he felt about you, and that was absolutely mind-blowing. And now that he thinks about it, he needs to have more than just a few words with Jay, but that could wait till later. Right now, he's gonna enjoy this surreal moment with you, the love of his life.

"Can you say all that again? You lost me at I love you," he chuckles, squeezing you in his arms tightly.

You giggle while nodding and repeating every single thing you said, and he listens very, very intently, his eyes sparkling as he looks at you with so much love.

"So maybe you can prove it to me in your room on your bed. How does that sound?" He scrunched his face up, laughing softly as you nodded your head shyly. "Yeah?" He grins.

"Yeah, I'll prove that and so much more, my love," you whisper seductively, and he visibly goes red, causing you to bite down on your lip to hold back your smile, and you can't help but think he looks so good all shy like that.

How did you ever get so lucky for him to give you another chance?

"God, I'm so happy," he sighs dreamily, staring at you with nothing but pure love in his eyes, and you felt so full knowing that he cared about you so much and was never shy to express it.

He picks you up in his arms, carrying you to bed. "I love you." he pecks the tip of your pretty nose, laying you down gently on your bed and hovering above you. "So much," he adds while leaning down and connecting your lips with his.

"I love you more." You smile so hard your cheeks start to hurt. "And for the record, you make me happier."

"Hey!" He whines cutely. "You make me the most happy."

And who were you to argue with that? Especially when his soft pink lips were colliding so perfectly with yours.

It was the morning after you and heeseung were lying down in bed together, his arm around you while your head rested on his bare chest. "Morning," you whisper, looking out the window and tickling his chest with your fingertips.

"Hmm, morning lovely," he chuckles and wraps his other arm around you. "Love you," he says with his raspy morning voice.

"Love you too." You kissed his chest all over, hearing him giggle from below you.

It's funny how it had been years since you said those words to a love interest, but with him, it just came so naturally, like you had been saying it for years.

"I gotta make it up to you, hee," you pout, tracing the faint line between his pecs.

"No baby, this is enough. Just you and me here now is all that matters," he assures you, but that's not good enough. He deserves the world.

"I know, but I want to do something for you," you tell him seriously.

"You don't take no for an answer, hmm?" He smiles.

"Not this time," you say matter-of-factly.

"Tell me what you want to do for me, baby. You were already amazing last night; I don't know what more I could ask for." You blush, hearing his words and feeling little butterflies erupt in your stomach. No one has ever talked to you as sweetly as he has. "Plus, you told me your side, and I understand it's hard, but I promise you I'll treat you right love, be the man you deserve."

"Oh, hee." You looked up at him, and your eyes started to water.

"It's only what you deserve" he taps your nose, making you smile, and now you want to give this man the whole world.

"That's it get ready," you tell him and hop off the bed. You were going to take him anywhere he wanted, buy him whatever he wanted, wine, and dine him the whole nine yards. Whatever he wanted, it was his, no questions asked.

"Okay, baby, but first, come take a picture with me so I can send it to Jay." You hop back in bed and take a cute picture of you both hiding under the sheets, with only your eye smile showing he sent it. Caption it: my girlfriend and me.

"Girlfriend?" You ask him.

"Don't act surprised. You know it was coming sooner or later," he laughs.

"Boyfriend!" You cheer after a few moments of letting this set in and tackle him in the biggest hug ever.

"I like the sound of that. Say it again, baby." you both smile, looking at each other completely lovestruck.

Heartbreak comes and goes, but this love is here to stay.

[END]

Thanks so much for reading! Please leave feedback. I love you all and hope you enjoyed it since everyone was asking for a lot.2 lol🖤

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