#he just seems like such a fun guy to talk to

[zoe-oneesama]

The Kwamis! Some of these came easier than others, but since Angelic Layer has no magic involved, all the kwamis became human~ They won't be very prevalent, they're mostly here to fill in background character roles - shop clerks, MCs Tournament Directors, fans - so they won't have a whole lot of speaking roles (aside from, you know, the MCs who're there to commentate on the fights lol). But I thought I'd give them all a nice nod in the story somewhere.

As expected, Tikki and Plagg are the main MCs. Marinette and Adrien's fights will be going on concurrently so Tikki will be commentating Marinette's fights while Plagg commentates on Adrien's. They'll have the most dialogue of the kwamis, so I do want them to have unique ways of discussing what they're seeing.

Pollen will be working directly for the Bourgeois'. As a VIP with a direct relationship with the international director of Angelic Layer, Chloe has her own private practice layer in her home and Pollen is in charge of it's upkeep and maintenance. She matches Armand the Bulter's levels of competence.

Trixx is a Rena Rouge mega fan. They've been following Alya's blog for as long as they can remember and are mega stoked that Alya moved to their city. When Alya starts to doubt herself, it's Trixx's voice that can be heard cheering her on to not give up.

Nooroo and Duusu are servants in the Agreste Estate. Unknown to Adrien, they are fully aware of his sneaking around to play and the two do what they can to make excuses and deflect Nathalie when Adrien isn't where he's supposed to be. They're rooting him on from the shadows!

Wayzz is the adult son of Marianne and Fu. He brings them to Angelic Layer fights against his will because the two really enjoy them. The two seem to be really invested in Ladybug and Chat Noir's career (and the behind the scenes shenanigans that they secretly spy on).

Longg is Kagami's bodyguard. Like Nooroo and Duusu, they are fully aware of what Kagami is doing behind her mother's back and feigns ignorance when Kagami pulls something..."sneaky" to get to a fight secretly.

Here's where we get into some existing jobs from the show:

Orikko and Kaalki are the "Layer Hot Girls (and boy)". lol I just thought it was funny that Angelic Layer even has them.

Mullo is the sales clerk at the Princess Piffle store (the store where you can buy your Angel and all the accessories). All of them lol. Mullo and her many many sisters who look just like her.

Barkk and Fluff take similar but still different roles (the uniforms are ALMOST the same but there are some tiny differences). So Barkk is the receptionist at the Practice Ring (literally you pay to reserve a mini-layer to practice on) while Fluff is the waitress/cashier at the cafeteria at the Tournament Center.

(and back to making shit up lol)

Daizzi is a nurse where Rose goes to the hospital and she has segmental localized vitiligo. Rose is particularly close to Daizzi since she helps Rose make her donations to the hospital.

Sass is the backstage directory, aka, the guy who makes things run. He has an earpiece that has the same diamond pattern as his pants on it! The anime does show one person who helps backstage, but I wanted to have a little fun with Sass's look and tie in to him being "in charge" of the kwamis.

Ziggy works at Socqueline's family art supply shop, which is frequented by Angelic Layer players who are on a bit of a budget. They love talking with the customers about their angels, though mostly the design part.

Stompp is Ivan's foster mother and Roarr his foster sister (Stompp's bio-daughter). I actually didn't think of what kind of job this outfit would be good for, but I think she'd make a good security guard - usually working at rock concerts, which she bonds with Ivan over, but she's also been hired for Angelic Layer tournaments. Sometimes sore losers get a little...violent.

Roarr falls in love with Juleka's Angel Purple Tigress immediately thanks to her pre-existing love of tigers in general. She's even bold enough to proclaim her love to Juleka herself!

Xuppu is Ondine's sibling and a fan of King Monkey, though they'll go out of their way to make fun of Kim himself. Secretly, they're very invested in Kim's career and get very upset on his behalf when he loses.

[mrsfancyferrari]

Want You

Summary: LN4 + "But I don't want them, I want you." 🥧🏈

Song: Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 10.8k

You stand in the mirror, pacing back and forth as you fix your hair for the third time. Tonight is one of those nights where the universe feels electrically charged, a perfect blend of thrill and anxiety swirling in your gut.

Layla, your best friend, has just finished getting ready and is practically beaming with excitement beside you.

Her skin glows under the soft lights of your apartment, and her dress hugs her figure perfectly. You can’t help but feel slightly overshadowed by her beauty.

"Do I look okay?" you ask, biting your lip, your eyes darting from her to your reflection.

"Are you kidding? You look amazing!" Layla exclaims, twisting a lock of her hair, her eyes sparkling. "But you really need to get out there more. You’re gorgeous in your own right!”

You chuckle, brushing off her compliment with a wave of your hand. "Yeah, well, even if I am, who's going to notice when you're around? You’re the one who gets all the attention. "

"That's not true! But anyway, tonight we’re supposed to have fun, not talk about that,” she says, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “Now, remember the plan?”

You nod, though your heart feels heavier with those words. “Right. We’re meeting Lando and the guys at the club. I just hope he doesn’t think I’m some awkward third wheel. He’s popular.”

Layla rolls her eyes playfully. “You say that every time. You two are friends. Besides, I think he likes you more than you think.”

“Whatever you say,” you respond, your mind racing back to the day Lando had randomly entered your life during a charity event you were volunteering for.

He was charming, funny, and incredibly humble for someone so famous. But the thought of anything romantic blossoming between you seemed absurd, especially when Layla was practically the embodiment of what everyone desired.

At the club, the bass vibrates through the floor, and colorful lights dance around the crowd like fireflies in the night. It’s an atmosphere alive with energy, but you feel your heartbeat quicken at the thought of seeing Lando.

You spot him near the bar, a bright smile on his face as he talks to some friends. Dressed casually, Lando is effortlessly cool, like a magnetic pull that draws everyone’s attention.

“There he is!” Layla exclaims, her excitement infectious. You watch her eyes grow wide like a child spotting a shooting star.

“Go! Go talk to him!” you nudge her, unable to keep the urge to play matchmaker at bay.

“No way! I’m not going without my wingwoman,” she whispers urgently, grabbing your wrist.

With a resigned sigh, you stride forward, Layla trailing closely behind. The moment Lando sees you, his face lights up, and he waves enthusiastically.

The way his presence commands attention is almost intoxicating.

“Hey! You made it!” he greets, pulling you in for a quick hug. You can smell his cologne, fresh and invigorating. Suddenly, your shyness mellows into warmth, though a tiny inner voice reminds you that you’re about to play cupid.

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you reply, your demeanor suddenly a mix of confidence and nervous fluttering. “Lando, this is my best friend Layla. You should hang out with her more—she’s awesome!”

Layla’s cheeks flush, and a playful smirk spreads across her face, but you can’t help but feel anxiety gnawing at you.

“Nice to meet you, Layla,” Lando says, his bright green eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Only good things, I hope!” Layla giggles, twirling a strand of hair around her fingers as if she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands.

“Yes, definitely,” he chuckles lightly, shooting you a glance that feels a bit mischievous. “I always wanted to meet the friend who keeps you so grounded.”

You fight to keep your composure, trying to bury the layer of jealousy creeping in. “Well, tonight’s all about celebrating. We should hit the dance floor!”

Hours pass with drinks flowing and laughter echoing. You dance, reveling in the rhythm while keeping a watchful, almost possessive gaze on Layla and Lando. They banter, and you notice how easily they connect, the chemistry undeniable.

A part of you feels satisfied, hoping for the sparks to ignite. Yet, another part steals glances at the way Lando laughs—could he truly like her?

“Hey,” you hear a familiar voice call, pulling you from your thoughts. Lando approaches, his brow slightly furrowed. “I was looking for you. Want to join us?”

You swallow, glancing at Layla, who is leaning against her car, her smile bright. “Um, sure. Just one moment.”

He watches you, a look of concern crossing his face. “Everything alright?”

You smiled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Yeah but you know, Layla really lights up the floor.”

“She does,” he nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “But I think you’re just as fun. It’s nice having both of you here.”

“Nice being here with you.” The words spilled from your mouth before you could bite them back.

Before you nerves could take over, you added, “You know, if you’re interested, Layla would love to get coffee or something. She’s crushing on you.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Lando’s face, followed by an understanding nod. “Yeah, I picked up on that. But honestly?” He paused, searching for your eyes. “I think I’d prefer hanging out with you instead."

Your breath hitched, and you felt a giddy thrill dance in your chest. “Really? You mean that?”

“Definitely,” he said, leaning forward with a grin. “You’re fun to talk to, and we have a great vibe. I really like spending time with you.”

“Wow, I… I wasn’t expecting that,” you stammered, a mixture of confusion and excitement swirling inside you. “I mean, Layla is great and all, but—”

“Look,” he interrupted gently, his eyes softening. “I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, but I’d love to get to know you better. Just you. No Layla.”

The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting soft golden rays across the small living room where Lando and you sat. Your head ached, pounding in rhythm with your heartbeat, and the remnants of last night's festivities loomed over you like a heavy cloud.

Lando chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It wasn’t anything too wild, don’t worry. Just that you really like spending time with me… and that you might like me in a different way.”

Your face burned even hotter, a mix of embarrassment and panic flooding your senses. “Oh my god! Lando, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to… I don’t remember any of that! It’s embarrassing.”

“Hey, don’t stress,” he said, a warm smile crossing his lips. “It’s not like you announced it to the whole party or anything. Just me, your trusted partner in crime. Besides, it's actually kind of sweet.”

His words were laced with a sincerity that calmed the storm brewing inside you, just a little. “You really think so?”

“Definitely,” Lando nodded, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I mean, how often do you get to hear someone’s true thoughts when they’re tipsy? It made my night a lot better.”

“Are you serious? I was a mess!” You tossed a pillow at him, your heart still racing from the earlier confession. “I can't believe I let that slip.”

“You were not a mess, you were just… liberated,” Lando smirked, leaning back on the couch and folding his arms behind his head. “And honestly, I don’t think it’s a bad thing. In fact, it kind of makes me happy.”

“Ugh, Lando, you’re just saying that to make me feel better,” you replied, your voice wavering as you tried to muster a hint of displeasure.

“No, I’m not.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I mean, how often do you get to hear someone’s true thoughts when they’re tipsy?”

“Are you serious? I was a mess!” You tossed a pillow at him, your heart still racing from the earlier confession. “I can't believe I let that slip.”

“No you weren't.” His face lit up with a smile that was infectious. “First things first, though—let’s get you over that hangover.”

You chuckled softly, grateful for the shift in energy. “Right.”

“Exactly,” Lando said, standing up and moving to the kitchen. “How do you feel about greasy food? Because I believe that’s the primary cure for hangovers.”

Your lips curved into a smile. “Always a solid choice. I could go for some toast or maybe even pancakes.”

“I can whip up something interesting,” he called back, a hint of mischief creeping into his voice. “But it might not be traditional breakfast food. I’ve been experimenting a little.”

“Oh boy, this should be good,” you said, following him into the kitchen, the earlier tension still lingering, but now more like a hopeful promise than a cloud of uncertainty.

Lando looked back over his shoulder with that charming grin that made your heart race. “Just trust me. You’ll love it.”

As he rummaged through the cabinets, you felt a flutter of excitement amid the remnants of your embarrassment. Maybe today wasn’t just about curing a hangover. Maybe it was the start of something new—something sweet and just a little bit wild.

The kitchen filled with the aroma of sizzling ingredients, laughter, and casual banter, the gravitational pull of your connection drawing you closer.

And for the first time that morning, as the sunlight spilled in and the soft music played, you felt truly, undeniably alive. . . .

The sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden hue over the McLaren paddock as the roar of engines filled the air. You had arrived earlier than expected, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Lando had invited you specifically to watch him race, and you had decided to bring Layla with you, thinking it might make the day more enjoyable.

But now, as you watched the interactions unfold around you, you began to regret that decision.

“Look at them,” Layla said, nudging your arm and pointing toward the racing cars as they zipped around the track. “Isn’t it incredible? I still can’t believe we’re here!”

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to suppress the tension knotting up your stomach.

Lando was on the other side of the paddock, surrounded by his team, engrossed in the pre-race hustle. He looked effortlessly cool in his race suit, flashing that signature smile that made your heart skip, and exchanging laughter with his crew.

You could see the admiration in Layla’s eyes, the way her gaze followed him, almost too fondly.

“Do you think he’ll win today?” Layla asked, her voice bright with enthusiasm. “I mean, he’s been so on form lately. This might be his season!”

“Yeah, I hope so,” you managed, but your heart sank a little at the way she spoke about him, as if Lando was already hers, as if you didn’t even exist in the context of their perfect relationship.

As the anticipation built, Lando finished up with his team and made his way over to you both. With a warm grin, he wrapped you in a tight hug, his comforting scent of fresh cedar and sunlight enveloping you.

“Hey, you made it!” he exclaimed, pulling back to look into your eyes. He waved cheerfully at Layla, who returned the gesture with a beaming smile.

With a playful tap on my shoulder, he kept his attention locked on you. “I bought your favorite snacks in case you get hungry. Just ask anyone in hospitality and they'll give them to you.”

“Oh, Lando, you didn’t have to,” you said, touched by his thoughtfulness.

“I knew you didn’t eat much,” he replied, with a hint of teasing in his tone. “Gotta keep you energized, right? What would the fans say if they saw you fainting in the stands?”

You chuckled, the lightheartedness of his comment managing to ease some of the tension in your chest. “I appreciate it, really. Thanks, Lando.”

“Of course!” He flashed that dazzling smile again, and your heart skipped yet again, wishing it wouldn’t betray you so. “Are you excited for the race?”

“Absolutely,” You said with a grin. “I can’t wait to see you speed past everyone. You’re going to crush it!”

Lando’s cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. “I’ll do my best. And if all goes to plan, maybe we can celebrate afterward?”

“Definitely!” you replied a little too quickly. “That would be amazing!”

As Lando left to get ready for the race and you walked to the garage, Layla nudged you playfully. “Haven't you seen the way he looks at you?” she said, a teasing smirk on her face.

“How do he… look at me?” you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.

“Like he's helplessly falling in love,” Layla teased, her tone light but with a touch of sincerity.

Your cheeks heated. “Oh, come on. He’s just friendly. You know how he is.”

“Friendly? Girl, he’s practically glowing when he sees you! It’s more than friendly.”

You didn't reply but her words were replayed in your head for most of the day. . . .

The roar of the engines and the excitement of the crowd filled the air as you settled into your seat, your heart racing along with the cars on the track.

You had been eagerly watching Lando drive with impressive precision, your admiration mixed with nerves as he expertly navigated the twists and turns of the circuit.

But as the laps dwindled down, your stomach began to rumble louder than the cars. You leaned over to Layla, who was just as engrossed in the race aside from the occasional glance in your direction.

“I'm going to grab some snacks Lando got for me. Want anything?” you asked, trying to mask your growing hunger with a light-hearted tone.

“No, I’m good! Can’t believe you have personal snacks from the Lando,” Layla teased, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you made your way to the hospitality room, the bright lights and lavish decor a stark contrast to the rawness of the track.

You felt a rush of nostalgia thinking about all the times Lando had surprised you with silly little gestures, like snacking during breaks or rescuing you from long queues at events.

As you entered, the atmosphere abruptly shifted. A tall, undeniably handsome man leaned casually against the bar, a cocky smile on his face that could light up the room.

He had perfectly styled hair and a confidence that was palpable. You instinctively felt your pulse quicken, but not in the way you were used to with Lando.

“Hey there,” he drawled, his voice smooth like velvet as he turned to face you. “What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing all alone?”

You blinked, taken aback. It was the first time someone had openly flirted with you in public, and the realization made your cheeks flush.

“Um, just grabbing some snacks,” you stammered, glancing back toward the snack table. “Not much to see here.”

He moved closer, leaning forward on the bar, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, I’d hardly call you ‘not much to see.’ You definitely stand out from the crowd. What’s your name?”

“Uh, it’s…” you hesitated, almost forgetting your own name for a moment. “It’s Y/N. And you are…?”

“Ethan,” he replied, extending a hand with an air of confidence. You hesitated but eventually shook his hand. “So Y/N, do you come to the races often?”

“More often than you’d think,” you answered, forcing a smile.

Your mind kept drifting back to Lando, his curly hair bouncing with every turn, his infectious laugh, his enthusiastic spirit. You couldn't help but mentally compare every detail of Ethan to Lando, a habit you couldn’t shake off.

“What do you think of the race so far?” Ethan asked, diverting your thoughts back to the present.

“Oh, it’s exhilarating! Lando’s doing really well,” you replied, your voice faltering slightly as you mentioned his name. “He’s a great driver.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Lando? The Lando?”

“Yeah, we’ve known each other for a bit. He’s… well, great,” you added sheepishly, not wanting to divulge too much about your friendship.

“Sounds like you’re a bit smitten,” Ethan teased, his eyes sparkling with playful banter.

You cut him a look, a blush creeping up your neck. “No! It’s not like that. We’re just friends!” The resolve in your voice felt weak against the wistfulness laced in your words.

Would Ethan ever understand the depth of what Lando meant to you?

The race continued, and Ethan shifted his attention from the track to you. “While I might not have curly hair or that… infectious laugh, I can still try to impress you,” he said with a smirk.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “I can’t deny you’re charming, Ethan. But the thing about Lando—”

“Is that he’s Lando,” Ethan interrupted, his voice low as though the name itself held some power. “I get it. You’ve got this history that I can’t compete with.”

He looked down, running a hand through his hair. The gesture seemed so reminiscent of Lando, yet distinctly different.

You couldn’t shake off how much every flick of Ethan’s hair and every smile he flashed felt in stark contrast to Lando’s bouncy curls and radiant grin. He smiled, sure, but it felt like a shadow of something brighter.

Just then, a staff member waved at Ethan from the other side of the grandstand, beckoning him over for photographs. “I’ll be right back!” he said, throwing you one last flirtatious grin before he slipped away.

You decided to take the chance to get back to your seat, curious as to why the cheers around the paddock were getting louder.

“Did you get your snacks?” Layla asked, her eyes still glued to the screen where the race was unfolding.

“Yeah,” you replied absentmindedly, still feeling the flutter of excitement from Ethan's attention. As you focused on the race, your thoughts danced back to him intermittently.

The atmosphere was electric; Lando was still in the lead for qualifying, much to the delight of the crowd, and your heart raced not just from the race—but from the momentary thrill of flirtation.

“Come on, come on, Lando!” Layla shouted, her enthusiasm infectious. You mirrored her excitement, your eyes following the sleek McLaren as it whizzed around the track.

When Lando crossed the finish line, securing pole position, the roar from the team was deafening. Everyone in McLaren was ecstatic, their cheers echoing the adrenaline that surged through the air.

"Yes, Lando," you said, smiling as the cameras captured the jubilant scene.

With Lando’s triumph, you watched as the team swarmed to congratulate him. You couldn't help but chuckle at his signature grin, the way he seemed to glow with the thrill of victory.

But as you looked closer, you realized that despite the chaos around him, Lando’s gaze was searching the crowd.

“Do you think he’ll spot us?” Layla asked, her eyes narrowing, trying to catch a glimpse through the throng of people.

“I doubt it. I mean, look at him! He’s the star of the show right now,” you replied, attempting to downplay the hope that fluttered in your stomach.

Still, your thoughts were interrupted as Layla suddenly grabbed your hand, pulling you through the crowd.

“C'mon! We need to get a closer look!” she shouted over the noise. Your heart raced for a different reason now, excitement growing as you maneuvered through the ocean of fans, team members, and media.

You just managed to catch a glimpse of Lando standing on his car, fist raised triumphantly in the air. “Look at him! He’s on top of the world!” you exclaimed, your voice barely audible over the cheers.

“I know! He’s incredible!” Layla responded, beaming at Lando’s joyous display.

Amidst the clamor and celebrations, you decided to yell out, “Lando, over here!” hoping he might hear you.

To your surprise, he turned in your direction, a radiant smile breaking across his face. He scanned the crowd, and for a heartbeat, your eyes locked. His smile grew broader, and you felt warmth flood your cheeks.

Then, without a thought for the crowd around you, you made your way over to him. You squeezed through a chaotic throng of jubilant fans, the buzz of celebration swirling around you, until you reached the area near the barriers.

There he was, laughing and exchanging high-fives with the team. You couldn't help but grin as you approached.

“Lando!” you shouted over the noise, arms open wide.

He spotted you immediately, and a look of pure joy washed over his face. With almost immediate instinct, he lunged toward you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace.

The strength of his excitement was palpable, and you squeezed him back, your heart racing.

He chuckled as he lifted you slightly off the ground. “I did it! I can't believe it!” he cried, setting you back down gently. “Did you see that last lap?”

“Are you kidding? It was amazing! You were so fast!” you exclaimed, your voice rising above the cacophony.

As he pulled back, he looked down at you with his bright eyes sparkling in the fading light. “I couldn’t have done it without all your support. You were here every step of the way.”

“You’ve worked so hard, Lando. You deserve this,” you said, your gaze drifting for a moment as you felt the warmth of his presence envelop you.

But then, staring at him with the backdrop of the ecstatic crowd, your heart felt odd. Being so close to him, you suddenly found yourself stammering. “I—uh, I mean… you really did great.”

Lando tilted his head slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You alright?” He took a small step closer, his arm still around your waist, making you acutely aware of the physical closeness between you, which felt both comfortable and electric.

“Uh, yeah, totally fine,” you replied quickly, but your voice was barely above a whisper. You caught a brief glimpse of Lando's gaze flitting to your lips, and it sent a jolt of connection rushing through you.

“I just… I mean…” You struggled to finish your thought, the reality of your best friend stepping into the limelight making you feel both thrilled and ridiculously nervous.

“Just what?” he teased gently, his smile unwavering but those eyes—oh, those eyes were searching, digging deeper.

“Just… I didn’t think you’d get pole position! I mean, I thought maybe, like, third or fourth?” You laughed nervously, but his gaze didn’t waver.

“Hey, you should always believe in me!” Lando said, but there was a soft intensity behind his words that made your heart race all the more. “If I can get here today, then you have to promise you’ll always believe in me, no matter what.”

You paused, looking earnestly into his bright eyes, biting your lip. “I promise. But you’ve gotta promise me too; no matter how famous you get or how many trophies you win, you won’t forget about me, okay?”

“Never,” he said softly, but the way he said it sent a shiver down your spine. He lowered his voice, his teasing demeanor fading slightly.

“You’ve been my constant through all of this, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Lando’s words lingered palpably in the air between you. You felt like the entire world had faded away, the crowd’s roars dimming into background noise. “I just… I could never replace what we have.”

“Exactly,” he said, moving a fraction closer, eliciting butterflies to flutter chaotic within your stomach. “Remember that time you thought I’d mess up in Monaco, and then I didn’t? I was convinced I could do it because you believed in me.”

You laughed, flushing at the memory. “Yeah, and you laughed at me for just being realistic.”

“Realistic is boring! You should know that by now. In racing, and in life, you gotta dream big,” he said, voice lightening as humor returned to the moment.

Just as you were about to respond, Zac approached. “Hey! Lando! Congrats, mate!”

He clapped Lando on the back, breaking the synergy you had created. “That was an incredible race! You crushed it!”

Lando’s hand left your waist as he turned to engage with Zac, his infectious excitement pulling him into the conversation. “Thanks, man! I can’t believe it! I was so nervous the entire time!”

You stepped back slightly, allowing the two of them to revel in the adrenaline of the moment. Lando beamed, his eyes sparkling as he spoke animatedly with Zac about the race strategy.

You watched as he made his way to get weighed and interviewed, your heart fluttering with a mix of pride and something else you weren’t quite ready to admit.

“Really, though, I don’t understand why you’re still on the fence about it,” Layla said, stepping beside you as you discreetly observed Lando.

Her voice was laced with curiosity as she nudged your shoulder. “He’s been so into you these past few weeks. Did you see how he looked at you when he saw you?”

You sighed, leaning back against the wall, your gaze still fixed on Lando. “Yeah, well, I saw that. But just because he looks at me a certain way doesn’t mean he likes me. He’s excited about the race, Layla. I’m just… there.”

“You’re not just ‘there.’ You’re practically glowing in his vicinity. It’s like he only sees you when he talks!” Layla insisted, her tone shifting to teasing. “You could light up an entire stadium with the way he smiles at you.”

“Okay, maybe he enjoys spending time with me,” you conceded, your cheeks warming at the thought. “But that doesn't exactly scream ‘I like you.’”

“Maybe not,” she replied, tilting her head as she watched Lando waving at fans and signing autographs, “but you’ve got to admit, there’s something more. I mean, look at him! The energy is off the charts!”

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep the conversation light. “You know how he is. He’s a charismatic guy. He’s like that with everyone.”

“Maybe. But wouldn’t it be amazing if he was like that with just you?” Layla’s voice softened, and she nudged you again. “Take the leap! Ask him how he feels—it doesn’t have to be a grand declaration.”

The sun was beginning to set over the racing circuit, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky as Lando settled himself into a high-backed chair in the paddock lounge.

It had been a day filled with adrenaline, the thrill of achieving pole position lighting up his thoughts.

The victory celebrations had been electrifying, but they were quickly overshadowed by a single purpose that surged through him like fuel to an engine—he wanted to see you again.

After the debrief, he had scanned the crowd, searching for you, his excitement building with each passing second. He had been talking about trying a new restaurant in town, and he couldn’t wait to explore it with you.

But the moment he stepped into the bustling lounge, he spotted you, and his heart sank just a little.

You were laughing.

Not just a polite chuckle, but a full-bodied laugh that lit up your face. You were engaged in conversation with Ethan Smith, the American actor who had been brought in as a special guest to support the race.

Lando could see the chemistry between you two—it was glaringly evident in the way Ethan leaned in slightly, his playful jokes coaxing out laughter and smiles that made your eyes sparkle.

“Hey, you look like you’re going to kill Ethan,” Layla, your best friend, teased as she sidled up to Lando, noticing the tense atmosphere that had suddenly enveloped him.

“Who?” Lando asked, tearing his gaze from you for just a moment.

“Ethan Smith? One of the most famous actors in the US? You don’t know him?” Layla's voice was filled with disbelief.

“Nope, and I don’t like him either,” Lando grumbled, eyes narrowing as he watched Ethan wink at you.

You giggled, and Lando felt a twinge of jealousy in his chest. He stood up properly, unable to resist the pull any longer.

As he stormed over, Layla rolled her eyes, giggling softly in amusement. “Good luck, hero.”

Lando approached, trying to keep his expression neutral even while he could feel a competitive spark igniting within him.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” he said, forcing a smile as he sidled up next to you, “but I thought we were going to check out that new place together.”

You turned to him, your smile blossoming even wider. “Lando! You were amazing out there today! I still can’t believe you got pole position!”

“Thanks! It was a good day, but I’ve got even better plans,” he added, shooting Ethan a pointed look. “I’m taking you out for dinner remember.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered and amused by Lando's sudden intrusion. “Oh, is that so? Looks like you’ve got some competition, Norris.”

Lando’s jaw twitched slightly. “I don’t see any competition, honestly. You’re just a—”

“Just a what?” Ethan interrupted with a smirk, leaning back casually. “Just a huge star who happens to be having a lovely conversation with someone he finds incredibly charming?”

You giggled again, a sound that made Lando’s irritation simmer down just a fraction. “You guys, come on. I’m just trying to enjoy the evening here.”

“Exactly,” said Ethan, flashing you a disarming smile. “And you deserve it! Besides, I was just giving her some advice on how to handle the media.”

“Media?” Lando questioned, crossing his arms. “I didn’t realize you were running a media workshop.”

Ethan shrugged, unbothered. “Hey, just sharing the wisdom I’ve gained. It can be tough, huh? Like staying out of the limelight while everyone’s watching you, waiting for you to slip up.” He shot a harmless smile, but Lando felt the jabs in his stomach.

You frowned, sensing the tension. “You guys, let’s not make this into a competition. Lando, you were the one who wanted to go out tonight.”

Lando looked at you, and then back at Ethan. “Right,” he said, softening his tone as he fixed his eyes solely on you. “I just wanted to celebrate with you a little, that’s all.”

Ethan grinned, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Looks like you’ve claimed your prize, my friend. I was just enjoying the company. I’ll step back.”

Lando glanced at Ethan with a nod, appreciating the concession, but still feeling a little victorious as he turned back to you. “So, are you ready to go eat? That new place is supposed to be amazing.”

You looked back to Ethan, and then nodded, a sweet smile curling on your lips. “Yeah, I’m ready. Sorry for taking up your time, Ethan.”

Ethan waved it off with a playful wink. “No problem! Have fun out there, you two. Just remember, she was laughing with me first!”

As you and Lando began to walk away, he turned back to you with a raised eyebrow. “You know, just for the record, I think he was flirting with you.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh please, he’s just a friendly guy! Besides, I already have someone I’m interested in.”

“Good,” Lando muttered, feeling a rush of relief and warmth flooding his chest. “Just making sure.”

He smiled down at you, his heart feeling a little lighter now. “Let’s go enjoy our dinner and make some headlines of our own, huh?”

“Sounds perfect,” you said, linking your arm through his as you both made your way out, leaving the tension behind you.

Lando couldn’t help but smile at the thought of spending the evening with you, feeling that maybe the only competition that truly mattered was the one he could embrace.

The evening air was cooler than expected, igniting a small thrill of anticipation as you stepped out of the car. You looked up at the restaurant’s glowing sign, your heart fluttering a little.

This place was newly opened, a fusion of modern and vintage charm, and you were eager to see if it lived up to its reputation.

As you adjusted your jacket, you glanced at Lando, who was standing beside you with an easy grin, his eyes sparkling like the city lights around you. Ever since he came into your life, each moment felt a little more vibrant, a little more alive.

“Have you seen the menu?” you asked, looking up at him, excitement bubbling in your voice.

He nodded, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “I did, and I can tell you right now, I’m going for that pumpkin risotto. It sounds incredible.”

You laughed. “Pumpkin risotto? It seems a bit heavy for someone who just came off a race, doesn’t it?”

“Hey, I need my carbs!” he retorted playfully, nudging your shoulder with his. “Especially after that race last week. I burned more calories than I could count, you know.”

“Fine, but I’m holding you to it. If you fall asleep in the middle of dinner, we might have a problem,” you teased back, stepping inside the restaurant.

The atmosphere enveloped you like a warm embrace—soft lighting, a hint of herbs wafting from the kitchen, and laughter echoing from nearby tables. You felt a buzz of excitement in your veins as you and Lando were led to a cozy corner table.

“So, what are you going to have?” he asked, picking up the menu and scanning it with genuine interest.

You shrugged, pretending to gauge the choices with utmost seriousness. “I think I’ll try the seafood linguine. It’s been ages since I’ve had good pasta.”

Lando’s expression softened, and he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “You know, I love when you get excited about food. It’s one of those little things that makes you… well, you.”

A warm blush crept onto your cheeks. “I didn’t realize you were so observant, Mr. Norris.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I notice the important things. Like how you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking, or how your eyes light up when you talk about your favorite books.”

“Okay, now you’re just getting mushy.” Your voice barely hid your embarrassment, but the fluttering in your chest was unmistakable.

You loved how easily he could make you smile.

Their server arrived, and you both ordered. As you waited, the conversation flowed easily, moving from playful banter about Lando’s racing experiences to sharing your dream travel destinations.

“I really want to visit Japan,” you said, your eyes dancing with the thought. “The culture, the food, the cherry blossoms… it seems magical.”

Lando leaned back, an amused smile plastered on his face. “You’re a romantic at heart, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” you admitted, biting your lip. “What about you? Where would you go if you had the chance?”

He paused, his expression thoughtful. “Probably somewhere quiet. Racing is intense, so I think I’d like a peaceful beach. Just to sit, reflect, and maybe learn to surf.”

“Surfing, huh?” You quirked an eyebrow. “You? I can already picture you wiping out spectacularly.”

“Oh, I’d definitely faceplant! But I’d get back up,” he said, his laughter infectious. “Just like on the track. That’s what makes it all fun, right?”

Before you could respond, your food arrived, and the divine aroma filled the air. You both dove into the dishes eagerly, enjoying the burst of flavors that danced on your tongues.

“This is amazing!” you exclaimed, savoring a mouthful of your linguine. “You have to try this.”

Lando took a bite of your pasta and nodded approvingly. “Wow, that’s really good! But I’ll stick to my risotto for now.”

As dinner continued, the conversation turned more personal. Lando shared stories of his childhood, his dreams, and the pressures of being in the limelight, while you opened up about your own aspirations and the challenges you faced.

“Sometimes, it’s overwhelming,” he confessed, a hint of vulnerability lacing his words. “I mean, I love racing, but it can feel like everyone’s expectations are just weighing down on you.”

You reached across the table, placing your hand on his. “But you’re doing something incredible, Lando. You’re following your passion and inspiring people along the way. Just don’t lose sight of what matters.”

His gaze locked onto yours, lips curving into a smile that reached his eyes. “You always know what to say to make me feel better. I’m lucky to have you around.”

In that moment, you understood something deeper was blossoming between you—a connection that transcended the thrill of racing. It was a shared dream, a mutual understanding, and an undeniable chemistry that lit up the evening.

As the night wore on and the plates were cleared, you felt a mix of contentment and longing. The restaurant buzzed with laughter and conversations, but in your little corner, it was just you and Lando, caught in your own world.

“Next time, we should pick somewhere even more adventurous,” he suggested, a playful gleam in his eyes.

You leaned back, thinking of the possibilities. “That sounds perfect. Let’s make it a tradition.”

Lando grinned, and in that moment, you knew this was just the beginning of something beautiful. You just hope that your feelings won't get in the way. . . .

Layla’s coughs echoed through the empty hall as she wrapped herself tighter in a soft blanket on the couch, trying to drown out the sound of the outside world.

It felt bitterly unfair that her body had rebelled against her just when she’d been looking forward to watching the race with you.

“Hey, Layla,” you called from the kitchen, where you were prepping a few snacks. “I’m heading out now. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

She turned her head slightly, her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed. “No, really, you should go. I’d just be a downer. Besides, I’d hate to get Lando sick. He’s got that race this weekend!”

“True, but…” you hesitated, feeling the weight of the unspoken words. “I mean, it would have been nice if we could all hang out together. I was kind of hoping you'd be there.”

Layla's smile was faint but brightened her pallid complexion. “I think you’re hoping for more than just ‘hanging out.’ You like him, don’t you?”

You sighed. “Maybe? I mean, after last night’s dinner… I just can’t tell if it was all in my head.”

A soft laugh escaped her lips, quickly followed by a cough. “You actually thought he was, what? Just being polite? You guys were practically flirting all night.”

“Flirting? Really?” You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “I thought he was just being friendly. Charming, even. He’s always like that.”

“Yeah, but that look he gave you? Come on! It was like, 'how do I impress you?’ and 'you’re amazing’ wrapped in one.” She coughed again, and you felt guilt worming its way into your chest.

“Maybe he was just being a nice guy. Or he was bored...” you trailed off, unsure.

“Or maybe he’s into you, and you just don’t want to see it,” she countered, her voice softening. “You should go talk to him. Tonight could be your chance!”

You ran a hand through your hair, pondering Layla's words. What if? What if that spark you felt between you was mutual?

You took a deep breath as you nodded. “Okay. I’m going. Just to check in on him.”

“Good! Now go knock his socks off!” Layla replied, her enthusiasm cutting through her congestion. As you waved goodbye, a quiet mix of excitement and apprehension simmered in your stomach.

You arrived at the paddock, the unmistakable hum of excitement buzzing in the air. The energy of fans waving flags and donning their favorite team colors could be felt all around; it was palpable and infectious.

You took a moment to soak it all in, engaging with the fans milling about, sharing smiles and snapshots that captured the thrill of race day.

But amidst the joviality, you couldn't shake off the knot in your stomach. Lando had been acting differently lately, receiving an outpouring of negative comments and disproportionate criticism on social media.

It made your heart ache to see someone so talented being torn down and misunderstood, especially when he had always been so kind and considerate.

Today was supposed to be about racing, but you had a growing worry that Lando might not be able to shake off the weight that was pressing down on him.

Once you greeted the last group of fans, you made your way through the paddock with purpose. The noise faded slightly as you approached Lando's garage—his sanctuary, where he would armor up for the battles on the track.

The energy there was different; it was practically electric, the team buzzing around, making final adjustments to the car and going over the last-minute strategies.

Still, your focus was solely on Lando.

You searched for him in every nook and cranny, peeking into the bustling pit area and checking around the hospitality suites. But a feeling of dread began to take root when you couldn’t find him.

“Maybe he’s in his driver’s room,” you murmured to yourself, trying to push down the worry that lingered like a shadow.

At the door, you hesitated, your heart racing. You knocked once, then twice, listening for the sound of his voice.

When no response came, you slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open, half-expecting him to be absorbed in some last-minute race preparation. Instead, the scene that greeted you was far from it.

Lando was curled up on the small, worn sofa, hands wrapped around his knees. He jumped slightly at the sight of you, his eyes wide, a mix of surprise and vulnerability.

“Oh Y/N, I didn’t hear you come in,” he said, forcing on a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You frowned at the sight of him, the dim light casting shadows across his face, revealing red-rimmed eyes. Your heart sank. “Lando… what’s wrong?”

You lowered yourself onto the sofa next to him, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, but it did little to ease your concern.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” he replied too quickly, the practiced lightness in his voice clashing with the heaviness in the room.

You could see the slight tremor in his hands, and your worry deepened. You reached out, tentatively placing a hand on his knee.

“You’re not fine,” you said softly, searching his face for the usual spark you loved. “I can see it. Talk to me?”

He looked away, glancing out the window at the racetrack where the cars were roaring around the circuit.

You followed his gaze but quickly turned back to him, determined to break through the wall he had put up. “Does it have to do with the race? Is it the pressure?”

Lando shook his head, something between sad and grateful passing over his features. “It’s not that. Just… a lot on my mind, you know?” His words were heavy, like anchors sinking in deep water.

“That’s okay,” you said, shifting closer to him. “I’m here. You don’t have to go through it alone.”

He chuckled softly, though there was no humor behind it. “You’re always here, Y/N. That’s what I like about you. You make it easier.”

“Then let me help you,” you insisted gently, nudging him with your elbow while you tried to coax out a more genuine response.

“Can I get a hug?” you asked, knowing that physical closeness might be the best way to pull Lando out of the shell he’d crawled into.

He hesitated, eyes darting around the room like a deer caught in headlights. Then, hesitantly, he leaned into you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

The warmth of his body was comforting, but as he buried his face against the curve of your neck, you felt the tell-tale signs of him holding back. You hugged him tighter, hoping he could feel the strength of your support.

“Let it out,” you whispered, holding him as he exhaled deeply, searching for words that seemed stuck in his throat. “Please.”

You rubbed his back in soothing circles, the silent rhythm cocooning you both in a bubble of softness. You didn't care if you were basically sitting on his lap; all you cared about was Lando.

“It's just... a lot,” he murmured finally, his voice muffled against you. “The media, the fans—they're relentless. I don’t think I can do it today.”

“Shhh…” you soothed, leaning back slightly to bring his gaze toward you. His big, dark eyes looked lost, a storm brewing behind them. “You’re stronger than they think. You love racing, remember? You belong out there.”

He looked away, swallowing hard. You could see the emotions swirling within him, battling between fear and desire, doubt and determination. “But what if I mess up again? What if…”

“Lando,” you interrupted gently. “What if you do great? You can’t let fear write your story for you. You have to give yourself a chance.”

His fingers found your waist as he held you closer, the intensity in his grip conveying everything words could not. “I just don’t want to let anyone down,” he confessed finally, his breath warm against your ear.

“You won’t,” you assured him, your heart racing with the intimacy of the moment. “Not with me by your side. You have me, Lando; I believe in you.”

With every squeezed breath, the hug felt too tight, arms closing around you, squeezing you, pressing together, inch by inch. You could feel his hesitance melting into something else, something deeper, something that felt like your very own electricity.

Lando was the unpredictable force that set your heart aflame. Those arms wrapped tightly around you felt intoxicating, like a drug that sent your pulse racing when the rest of the world faded away.

His phone buzzed, jolting you both back to the reality of the upcoming race.

“It’s Oscar,” he muttered, annoyance tugging at his features. “I don’t want to go; I can’t face the pit or the cameras.”

You lifted your chin, meeting his gaze fully. “Well, I can’t do this for you, but I can be right there with you. You need to let them see how you feel. It’s okay to show vulnerability, Lando.”

He took a deep breath, and you could see the gears in his mind turning. “What if it’s not enough?” he muttered, but the fire in his voice was finally wavering.

“Enough for who?” you pressed. “You don’t have to perform for them. Just do your race, and I’ll be right there cheering for you.”

“Really?” He looked at you, the hope flickering in his gaze almost enough to make you lean in and kiss him.

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You grinned, feeling the air shift between you, filled with the promise of something more.

Suddenly, Oscar’s voice boomed from the other side of the door, urgent and loud. “Lando, it’s time for the race!”

Lando groaned, clearly annoyed at being forced back into reality. “I guess I can’t hide in here forever, huh?”

“Nope. Now come on, let’s get you out there and show them what you’re made of.” You smiled, standing abruptly and holding out your hand to him.

He hesitated for a heartbeat before taking it, and you felt that warm pull between you. The brief moment of intimacy melded into something more solid as he clasped your fingers. He rose to his feet, tilting his head slightly to find your gaze once again.

“Thanks,” he said softly, his voice clear and stronger now. “For everything. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Probably get a lot more nervous,” you teased lightly, nudging him playfully. “But seriously, let’s go. You’ve got a race to win.”

As Lando Norris crossed the finish line for the fourth time that season, the entire track erupted in a symphony of cheers and celebrations.

You could barely contain your excitement, adrenaline surging through you as you pulled off your headphones, the sounds of the race still echoing in your mind.

All that mattered was Lando—your brilliant, talented Lando.

You joined the staff, a vibrant mix of engineers, mechanics, and strategists, who were all equally charged up. The atmosphere was electric, the air thick with the scent of burnt rubber and victory champagne.

You barely noticed the chaos unfolding around you as everyone rallied around the pit area. The crew, those unwavering supporters who had helped you get closer to Lando before, ushered you closer, their enthusiasm infectious.

“Come on! Right this way!” one of the crew members shouted over the noise, grabbing your hand and leading you through the throng.

You felt your heart race as the crowd’s energy swirled around you, anticipation making you giddy.

“Lando! Lando! Over here!” you shouted, waving your arms above your head like a lunatic.

A couple of crew members pointed in your direction, assisting the chaotic dance of the crowd.

And then it happened. His eyes met yours—green and bright like emeralds sparkling in sunlight. Time seemed to slow as he brightened at the sight, a genuine smile breaking across his face.

Without hesitation, he tore away from the crowd, sprinting toward you. The world blurred around you, the cheers fading until nothing mattered but the two of you.

When he reached you, it was like everything else faded away. He enveloped you in the biggest hug, his head tucked tightly against your neck.

Warmth washed over you, and you couldn’t help but laugh with pure joy.

“You did it! I knew you could!” you shouted, the excitement lacing your words as your arms wrapped around his neck.

His grip tightened as he pulled back to look into your eyes, the sexual tension thick between you. Lando's gaze lingered on your lips momentarily, and something about the way he held his gaze left your heart racing.

“I couldn’t have done it without you cheering me on,” he confessed, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re my good luck charm.”

“I think it’s the other way around,” you teased playfully. “You’ve got the talent, but I like to think I add a bit of magic.”

Lando chuckled, a sound like music that echoed around you, making your heart flutter. “Well, keep that magic close then, okay?”

Before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, just a breath away from your lips. Your breath hitched as the world fell away again, your cheeks flushed with warmth and perhaps a bit more than embarrassment.

“I—I should let you go celebrate with everyone,” you said, almost feeling shy as you took a step back, the rest of the team rallying around him with congratulations.

“Hey,” he said softly, his gaze never wavering as he reached for your hand, holding it tightly. “You’re coming with me, right? We have to celebrate together after!”

You blinked, surprised. “Really? Don't you want to celebrate with only your team?”

“I want to celebrate with you too!” He smiled, an infectious grin that made your heart skip a beat. “We’ll carve out our own little celebration. Just us after.”

Your heart soared. You nodded eagerly. “Okay!”

After the podium celebrations ended, the crowd dispersed, and the atmosphere filled with the crackling excitement of victory turned to an afterglow.

Lando Norris, with his signature grin and a trophy held high, had basked in the limelight, soaking up the roaring applause of the fans.

But that was only a moment for him; now, he was dragged away to the media center, leaving you standing at the edge of the pit lane, heart fluttering with the kiss he had planted on your cheek moments before.

You leaned against the pit wall, watching as he disappeared behind a barrage of cameras and reporters.

The warmth of his fleeting affection lingered on your skin, and a smile crept across your face despite the noise around you.

“Thinking about him, I see,” a voice interrupted your thoughts. You jumped slightly, caught off guard as you turned to see Ethan approaching.

He wore a knowing smirk, one that made your stomach twist of embarrassment.

“Oh, hi Ethan, what are you talking about?” You feigned nonchalance, crossing your arms.

“Lando, I’m talking about Lando,” Ethan replied, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Look, it’s clear you’ve got this enormous crush on him, but let’s not kid ourselves. He doesn’t like you like that. He’s just being friendly.”

Your heartbeat quickened for a different reason now—a mix of frustration and hurt. “What do you mean he doesn’t like me? He just won a race, and he kissed me, it was sweet.” You tried to sound more confident than you felt.

“Sweet?” Ethan scoffed. “That was just a celebratory peck. You know how he is with his fans. He flirts with everyone. It doesn’t mean he has a thing for you.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing back against his doubt. “But it felt different. The way he looked at me before he left… Ethan, we’ve talked, we’ve laughed.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Look, you’re a great person, and I get that you want to believe he’s into you. But do you really think he’s capable of liking someone with all of this fame and pressure around him? He’s got a busy life, and girlfriends are just more trouble in that world.”

The frustration bubbled in your chest. “You sound like my mom,” you shot back, unable to hide the sharpness in your tone. “You don’t even know him like I do.”

“Fair enough,” Ethan said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But you’ve got to admit, you’re setting yourself up for a huge disappointment here. Just... don’t get your hopes too high. I wouldn’t want to see you hurt.”

His exasperation was genuine, but it only deepened your resolve. “And I wouldn’t want to live my life scared to try because of what ‘might’ happen.”

Ethan sighed. “Okay, I’m not trying to ruin your fantasy. I just want you to be realistic.”

“Realistic or pessimistic?” you countered.

He laughed softly, the tension in the air easing just a bit. “Alright, let’s call it realistic, then.”

“Lando doesn’t like you that way,” Ethan had said, concern etched on his features.

Those words replayed in your head like a broken record, setting a tight knot in your stomach every time you thought of the charming driver.

Just as you attempted to shake off the lingering doubt, a staff member materialized out of thin air, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “Lando wants to see you now.”

“Thanks!” you called out, excusing yourself from Ethan’s company. 

You felt a mix of anticipation and anxiety as you navigated through the hubbub of the garage, pushing aside doubts that had lingered since your morning conversation with Ethan.

Finally standing before Lando’s driver’s room, you raised your hand and knocked gently. “Come in,” his voice called out, warm and inviting.

You opened the door to find Lando leaning against the wall, a genuine smile lighting his face, so different from the frown of earlier that day. “Hi, champ!” you greeted him, a spark of joy igniting within you.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, standing upright as he approached you. “I’m really glad you’re here.” His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, and you could feel an electric tension crackling in the air between you.

You both settled into a rhythm of lighthearted conversation, laughing and reminiscing about the week’s events, but underneath every playful jab and shared joke, there was an unspoken acknowledgment of the chemistry that simmered between you.

Lando’s gaze felt heavy on you, filled with unexpressed words that lingered just beyond reach.

The air crackles with an unspoken tension as you stare into Lando's eyes, a mix of confusion and yearning coursing through every nerve in your body.

You can feel the warmth of his presence enveloping you, a fire igniting in the pit of your stomach as you try to decipher the myriad emotions swirling between you.

“So,” Lando began, his voice almost a whisper, eyes glistening with something serious, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

His voice quivers with uncertainty, the weight of his unexpressed feelings hanging heavily in the atmosphere, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

Your mind raced back to Ethan’s words: “Lando doesn’t like you, Y/N. He’s just playing around.” You shook your head slightly. You wouldn’t let yourself believe that.

You couldn’t allow the confusion between friendship and something more to blur in your mind; it was too painful.

He said, his tone firm yet tender. “I like you, Y/N.”

“You don’t, you can’t,” you protest meekly, recalling the stinging words Ethan had casually tossed your way, words that left a lingering ache in your chest.

The notion that Lando might not harbor genuine feelings for you feels like a betrayal, an unwelcome specter haunting the edges of this beautiful moment.

“Y/N—” His voice was earnest, but you shook your head, biting your lip to keep the tears at bay.

“Please don’t joke about that. If you don’t like me—if you’re just messing around—then don’t joke about it.” Each word felt like a dagger, piercing through the bubble of hope forming in your chest.

“Why do you think I’m saying this?” he asked, his voice low and laced with emotion. “Why would I bother if I didn’t mean it? This isn’t just some casual fling for me. I care about you, and it’s driving me insane keeping it all bottled up!”

You took a step back, your back hitting the closed door. “Lando, please, you can’t say that!” Tears began to stream down your cheeks unbidden.

“Why not?” he challenged softly, moving closer again, his gaze intense. “Why can’t I? Are you really going to deny what’s been between us? You feel it too right?”

The truth in his words shattered your defenses. “Lando, I—” Your voice broke, and the words tumbled out, heavier than you imagined.

“I’ve never been someone’s first choice before. It’s hard to believe that you actually want me.”

“Then believe me,” he urged, his hand gently cupping your cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb.

Lando’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he whispered, “You deserve to hear it, and I mean every word.”

You melted into him, your head resting against his chest while he held you tightly—firmly yet gently, a safe haven amidst your unraveling emotions.

He didn’t flinch as the tears soaked his shirt.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, sniffling against his shoulder. “I don’t want to lose this.”

“You won’t lose me. Not ever,” he promised, pulling back slightly so he could look into your eyes. “Just give us a chance. I won’t hurt you.”

After a long while, you managed to calm down, your heart still racing but your breaths a little steadier. Lando pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes; the concern etched on his face warmed you.

“Can I kiss you?” Lando asked, his voice laced with just a hint of uncertainty, as if he feared this moment would evaporate into thin air.

Time seemed to stand still as you considered his question. You could feel the heat radiating between you, a magnetic pull that drew you closer.

This was the moment you had both been dancing around, the very reason for the tension that crackled in the air.

You felt a flutter in your stomach at the question, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. “Yes,” you finally breathed out, the single word filled with yearning.

His eyes sparkled, and he leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted. But you didn’t; if anything, your heart raced as he brushed his lips against yours, soft and hesitant at first.

His lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss that spoke volumes of the feelings you both had kept hidden for too long. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in a warm embrace, filled with the promise of love and acceptance.

As the kiss deepened, you felt an overwhelming sense of relief and joy. It was as if everything you had fought against—the doubt, the fear—melted away, replaced with the certainty of Lando’s affection.

You knew, right then and there, that you had finally found someone who would stay, who truly wanted you for who you were.

When the kiss finally broke, you rested your forehead against his, your hearts still racing from the intensity of it all. “I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you murmured.

“Don’t be,” he replied softly. “I’m just glad I finally got to you.”

And in that moment, surrounded by a haze of newfound love and vulnerability, you both knew that this was only the beginning of something beautiful.

Something that you both deserved. . . . .

[fastandpascal]

ᯓ★ JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY!

it’s your mums birthday but your step dad can’t seem to take his eyes off of you (mean step dad!joel miller x f!reader smut)

a/n: my first Joel fic so go nice on me lol, if you enjoyed then reblog and show some love. this was so fun to write, enjoyyy

The party was everything your mum had dreamed of—warm lights strung across the backyard, music playing softly in the background, and her closest friends and family gathered to celebrate her big day. It was perfect, right down to the last detail, even if the man she was cheating on Joel with had the audacity to show up. You leaned against the edge of the kitchen counter, sipping from a glass of wine and watching the scene unfold through the open sliding door. People laughed, danced, and toasted to her, utterly oblivious to the tension simmering in the house.

You couldn’t help it—your eyes drifted across the room to Joel.

He was standing near the corner, nursing a beer and looking as ruggedly handsome as ever in his fitted flannel shirt and worn jeans. His salt-and-pepper hair was slightly tousled, and his intense brown eyes scanned the room—lingering on you when he thought no one was watching.

He had been stealing glances at you all night, his attention as unavoidable as a magnetic pull. It started innocently enough—a brush of his hand against yours when you passed him a plate of hors d’oeuvres, the subtle shift in his posture whenever you were near. But the heat in his gaze told you this wasn’t just polite attention.

It was something darker. Something forbidden.

You shouldn’t have reciprocated. You shouldn’t have noticed the way his broad shoulders flexed when he reached for something or the way his jaw clenched when he caught you smiling at one of the younger guests. You certainly shouldn’t have liked the jealousy flashing in his eyes.

But you did.

You set down your empty glass, heart pounding, and turned toward the hallway, needing a moment away from the noise to catch your breath. As you passed through the kitchen door, a strong hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you into the darkened laundry room.

The laundry room door slammed shut behind you with a soft click, cutting off the cheerful noise of the party outside. Joel turned the lock with a deliberate motion, his broad back blocking the exit, his presence suffocating in the small space. He didn’t say a word, not at first. His dark eyes bore into yours, his lips pulled into a tight line.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he asked finally, his voice low and menacing.

You blinked, your heart hammering against your ribs. “I—What are you talking about?”

He scoffed, a dark sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Don’t play dumb with me.” His boots thudded against the tile as he took a step closer, then another, until you were pressed against the cold metal of the washer. “You’ve been walking around all goddamn night in that little dress, batting your eyes at every guy who looks at you, like a slut”

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” he growled, cutting you off. His hands came up, gripping your hips with a bruising force. “You think I didn’t see the way you smiled at that little punk by the bar? Laughing at his jokes like you didn’t know I was standing right there?”

“Joel,” you whispered, your voice trembling under the weight of his anger.

“Quiet,” he snapped, his fingers digging into your skin. “You’ve been pushing me all night, sweetheart. Acting like a fucking tease. But you know what? I’m done playing nice.”

His words sent a thrill of fear and excitement racing through you, leaving you breathless. Joel’s hands slid up your sides, his rough palms brushing over the thin fabric of your dress.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he demanded, his voice a low growl in your ear. “You’ve been begging for my attention all night. Now you’ve got it.”

You didn’t have time to respond before his mouth crashed against yours, his lips claiming you in a bruising, possessive kiss. His beard scratched against your skin, the sensation adding to the overwhelming heat building between you. You gasped against him, and he took full advantage, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to taste you.

Joel’s hands roamed your body with a kind of urgency that bordered on roughness, sliding down to your thighs and pulling you closer. He hoisted you onto the washer in one swift motion, his body slotting between your legs as he pressed against you.

“You think you can act like that out there and not face the consequences?” he muttered, his lips trailing down your neck. His teeth scraped against the sensitive skin, making you whimper. “No, baby. You’re mine. And I’m gonna remind you who you belong to.”

His hands bunched the fabric of your dress, shoving it up around your hips with no regard for how it wrinkled. You trembled under his touch, your breath hitching as his fingers found the thin band of your panties.

“Already soaked,” he murmured, his voice thick with disdain and hunger. “Of course you are, filthy little thing.”

“Joel,” you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Shut up,” he snapped, his fingers hooking under the fabric and tearing it off you with one swift motion. The sound of the fabric ripping sent a jolt through you, your head spinning with the knowledge that there was no turning back now.

Joel stepped back just enough to undo his belt, the metallic clink making your pulse race. His eyes never left yours as he yanked his jeans down just enough to free himself, his hard length standing proud and thick.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re gonna sit there and take it. No whining. No complaints. Got it?”

You nodded, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

“That’s my girl,” he muttered, his hands gripping your thighs and yanking you closer to the edge of the washer.

Without another word, he pushed into you in one hard thrust, stretching you painfully around him. You cried out, the sensation a mix of pleasure and pain, but Joel didn’t stop. He didn’t give you time to adjust, his hips snapping against yours in a relentless rhythm that left you gasping for air.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice rough as his hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he took you. “So fucking tight. Like you were made for me.”

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small room, mingling with your ragged breathing and his deep, guttural groans. Joel’s pace was brutal, each thrust hitting a spot inside you that had you seeing stars.

“You think anyone out there knows what a little slut you are?” he asked, his tone mocking as his hand came up to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Huh? Think they’d still think you’re so sweet if they could see you right now? Sat here and taking me like this?”

You whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to hold on. The heat in your core built with each thrust, the pressure almost unbearable.

“That’s right,” Joel muttered, his lips curving into a wicked grin. “You like this, don’t you? Being used like the dirty little thing you are.”

“Yes,” you gasped, the word tumbling from your lips before you could stop it.

“Say it,” he demanded, his grip on your jaw tightening. “Say you belong to me.”

“I belong to you,” you choked out, your voice trembling.

“Damn right you do,” he growled, his hand slipping down to find the sensitive bundle of nerves between your thighs. His thumb circled it with maddening precision, sending you hurtling toward the edge. “Now come for me, baby. Show me who you belong to.”

His words were your undoing. Your body tensed, the wave of pleasure crashing over you and leaving you trembling in his arms. Joel followed moments later, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you, groaning your name like a prayer.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was your labored breathing, the faint hum of the washer beneath you grounding you in the aftermath.

Joel leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “Don’t forget who owns you,” he murmured, his tone soft but no less commanding.

As he stepped back, adjusting his jeans and belt, he smirked down at you, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “Clean yourself up,” he said, tossing your torn panties at you. “And get back to the party. Best not make it obvious what we’ve just been up to”

You nodded, still too dazed to speak, as he unlocked the door and disappeared into the hallway.

Left alone, your body still buzzing with the aftershocks of what had just happened, you couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction. You belonged to Joel, and there was no denying it even if he was married to your mum.

[luvr444writes]

Nicholas Chavez dating hc's

Nicholas Chavez x Fem!reader

---

Bf!Nicholas Chavez who... keeps you up all night talking about anything and everything. He's more vulnerable at night, telling you anything that's been plaguing his mind recently. Or even just talking about your future together.

Bf!Nicholas Chavez who... is a true gentleman. Always holds doors for you, refuses to let you get out of or into the car until he opens your door for you, offers you his jacket when you're cold, etc.

Bf!Nicholas Chavez who's... love language is touch and gift giving. He's always holding your hand and rubbing your knuckles softly with his thumb, hand on your hip, rubbing the small of your back, etc. He also constantly comes home with little gifts, your favorite flowers, candy, drink, a new book you've been talking about wanting. It's the little things.

Bf!Nicholas Chavez who... is unable to stand the thought of losing you. It doesn't matter whether you were in the wrong or if he was because he will always apologize first, he can't stand the silence between the both of you or the way you suddenly seem uncomfortable or tense around him. He always tries his hardest to not let little things blow out of proportion.

Bf!Nicholas Chavez who... has a soft side for you. Sure, in interviews he seems almost cold, broody, blunt, etc. But with you he shows a side that most others don't get to see. When he truly cares about someone, he's thoughtful and nurturing. He's always there when you need him, When you’re upset, he might not know exactly what to say, but he’ll be there with comforting silence or a touch that says more than words ever could.

Bf!Nicholas Chavez who... likes to surprise you with different dates. He’s not the type to just plan a dinner date and call it a night. Maybe a late night picnic under the stars, a surprise trip to a place you’ve always wanted to visit, or even just an unexpected road trip to a random, but exciting, destination. No matter how many times you try, you can never guess what he's planned for you next.

Bf!Nicholas Chavez who... notices the small things about you. Whether it’s remembering your favorite coffee order or noticing when you’re feeling off, he’d find subtle ways to make you feel cared for. Maybe he’s not always the most overt in showing affection, but his thoughtfulness speaks volumes.

Bf!Nicholas Chavez who... gets jealous. No, not in a toxic, possessive way. But he truly wants to spend the rest of his life with you and he can't help but get a little insecure or jealous when he notices other guys trying to steal your attention away when you're out in public together.

Bf!Nicholas Chavez who... has a soft spot for little kids. While he might not outwardly express it, Nicholas would probably have a soft spot for kids or even animals. Whether it’s showing affection toward a younger sibling or cousin, he always gets a certain look in his eyes and a playful side of him comes out when he's around them. He may even bring up having kids of your own one day...

Bf!Nicholas Chavez who... is your biggest cheerleader when it comes to your successes, no matter how big or small. If you accomplish something, he’d be genuinely excited and proud of you, making sure you know that he believes in you. He’d go out of his way to show how happy he is for you, constantly bragging about how his "girlfriend did ____ and ____".

Bf!Nicholas Chavez who... loves to make you laugh. While he has a very composed and nonchalant facade he puts up around others, he’d definitely enjoy teasing you in a lighthearted way. He’d find joy in making you laugh, whether it’s poking fun at something silly you’ve said or playfully challenging you on something you’re passionate about. His teasing would always come from a place of affection and fun, though—never to hurt your feelings (and if he did hurt your feelings he would immediately apologize and comfort you if you were that upset about it).

---

Sorry if this is short and not that good!

ayyy first post tho!!! 😛

[rosyhoneydew]

nsf/w continuation of this fic below ⬇️ happy Thanksgiving pt. 2!

Buck opens the door for them to step back inside. He thrills a little at the feeling of Tommy's hand on his waist. God, it feels good to have those hands on him again. Chimney's alone in the kitchen, bagging up turkey and setting the dishes in the sink. He smirks at the two of them when they walk in and Buck resists the urge to smooth down his hair where Tommy had grabbed at it.

"You two talk things out then?"

Buck gives him a look. "You know there were easier ways you could've gotten us to talk."

"This way seemed more fun," Chimney responds lightly. "Can I get you some leftovers, Tom?"

"That would be great, thanks."

When Buck looks up at him, Tommy is smiling. He looks like he's come back to life. It's a stark difference from the cautious, uncomfortable man that walked in a few hours ago.

Tommy catches him looking and the smile grows sweeter.

"Come home with me tonight," Buck leans up to whisper.

He gets an eyebrow raise in response.

"Just to spend one night, not- I'm not asking for more than one night."

Tommy leans in even closer, his lips pressed to Buck's ear. He places a kiss at the soft spot of his jaw and whispers back, "Okay."

They pack up the night quickly after that. Tommy helps with the dishes, You guys did all the cooking, let me do this and Buck gets called into Jee's bedroom to say goodnight. When he emerges, 2 stories later, Maddie, Chim, and Tommy are standing around the counter, chatting and laughing. It sends a ripple through his heart. He can't help but think of Maddie's advice I think you have to trust the Universe is gonna bring you a special person. What could be more special than this, he thinks, a warm feeling washing over him.

Tommy drives them back to Buck's apartment. There's a slight hesitancy in him as they walk inside, maybe wondering if Buck has changed his mind, remembering what happened last time. Buck hasn't. He grabs Tommy's hand and pulls him inside.

He doesn't give either of them the time to overthink. The moment they're inside he's got his arms around Tommy's shoulders, kissing him messy and dirty and full of pent-up feeling that he's been trying and failing to burn out in his oven.

Tommy matches him step for step, he wraps one arm around Buck's waist and drops the other hand to his ass, squeezing and pulling him closer. They stand there, making out in Buck's kitchen for minutes on end before the desperation Buck feels becomes too much. He pulls away, pecking Tommy on the lips a few more times, like he can't stop.

"Bed?" he asks.

Tommy nods, repeats, "Lead the way."

Buck walks them upstairs, shimmying off his pants and shirt before laying back in the center of the bed. Tommy watches for a moment, like he can't believe he's here. It's sweet, but Buck is hungry so he spreads his legs wide and drops a hand to his dick, playing with it over his boxers.

"Come on," he urges.

Tommy follows after that, dropping to his knees and hooking his hands behind Buck's legs. He uses the leverage to pull Buck to the edge of the bed, nuzzling his cock the second he's eye-level. It's not what Buck was expecting, the sudden movement and stimulation making him gasp.

"Baby," he groans.

Tommy opens his mouth and places kisses along Buck's cock, sucking through the cloth at the head. It's dulled by the cotton, but the feel of Tommy's warm mouth and tongue pressing against him still leaves Buck moaning through it.

Tommy pulls his underwear down at the sound, staring at Buck, fully bare and flushing under the attention. The sensation of being watched sends tingles through Buck's body and he squirms. Tommy holds his hips to keep him still.

"I've missed you so much."

"You talking to me or my dick?" Buck asks.

Tommy sends him a look, but it dissolves in a moment. "Both," he admits. "I love your dick."

"Yeah, you miss having it inside you, baby?"

Tommy groans. Buck wishes either of them had the patience for that tonight. He lifts his hips a little instead.

"Want your mouth."

Tommy doesn't make him wait. He licks up and down Buck's cock a few times and then sucks the head inside his mouth. It's hot and soft inside his mouth, the way it always is, and Buck moans.

He sucks the head a few times, getting the angle right before he takes Buck down, going all the way until his throat is stuffed full. It makes a wet, clicking sound when he does and Buck gasps in response, eyes closing in arousal. He's always loved the sound of sex.

Tommy works him faster after that, gliding up and down in a wet slide that leaves Buck moaning and twisting in Tommy's hold. It doesn't take him long to get close. The feeling of Tommy's tongue pressing flat against him and the Tommy's right hand slips up to play with his balls and press just behind them gets him there.

"Close, baby, I'm so close," he gets out, urgent.

Tommy groans, working faster and spending more time sucking at the head as he does. He runs his tongue in figure eights there and slides down in rapid up and down motions and Buck is gone.

Buck can hear himself moaning and tries to keep his hips from fucking up into Tommy's throat with too much abandon, but Tommy doesn't seem to mind. He moans himself, swallowing and sucking Buck through it.

Buck is still coming down when he notices, Tommy's got his head resting against Buck's thigh, his mouth open on the grunts and groans pushing forward. He's got one hand, still wet with Buck's come, stroking his cock fast and hard. Buck's not even sure when Tommy got his pants undone. The sight of it is so blingingly erotic that Buck feels a shockwave of arousal run through him again. It's not long after that that Tommy looks up at him, eyes pinching before they roll back as he comes.

They sit there breathing for a moment, before Buck pulls Tommy up to the bed that has to be hell on your knees. Tommy lays down next to him, reaching a dry hand over to weave his fingers into Buck's. There's still so much to say, so much that Buck wants to make sure they air out, but for now they're content to lay like this. They've got time.

[demonlorddiva]

Obey me! Brothers when your drunk!

You did really good on a test you’ve been working on and Diavolo said you could have anything you wanted! Any other human would ask for money, a vacation, or anything their hearts desired. But you? Your simple. Without the ability to buy human world alcohol in the devildom you asked diavolo to pick you up some for a night of fun! (And chaos) you decide that staying home and drinking is the best option as to not be in danger of other demons. How will the other brothers react?

*Obvi the reader is over 21 or the age of consuming alcohol in their country

Lucifer

You decided that since drinking demonus with him was one of your regular dates in his office, you could do the same thing and drink with him!

He’s glad to see you don’t want to leave the house. And that you want to drink with him makes him even more at ease

Plus his pride is soaring that hes the first person to see you drunk

The night is simple, drinks, music, and a wonderful conversation

It’s not often he gets to let loose and drink to his hearts desire, and with you? What a better time

If your walking funny he immediately picks you up and takes you to his room at the end of the night

He wants to make sure your okay through the night (and he wants to cuddle) (he’s v affectionate when he’s drunk)

He knew the night was happening, so by his bedside is pain meds, water, electrolytes, the whole nine yards

Will cuddle you in the morning and tease you about the silly things you said

Mammon

PARTY TIMEEEEE

You don’t wanna leave the house

He whines

You put your foot down

INDOOR PARTY TIMEEEE

You know he has his room set up for the perfect movie night, pillows, blankets, popcorn, the whole nine yards

Has a drinking game set up so you both can play

And ofc he set up the rules so you would both be hammered even before the movie ended

But the popcorn ran out and you guys are still hungry

Y’all have to hold hands as you go downstairs to the kitchen to make some instant noodles for each other

Lucifer catches y’all being too rowdy and forces y’all to go to bed

Mammon is absolutely WRECKED when he’s hungover (the hangsiety is real) not to mention his head pounding and his stomach hurting

You both spend the next day cuddling, with you telling him how much you love him, and how you think he’s still so cool even after you saw him faceplant on the floor

Levi

A night??? With you??? And you’ll be drunk??

He assures you multiple times that your safe and he absolutely doesn’t want to take advantage of you (not that you were worried in the slightest about that) (Levi bb calm down)

Y’all decide to play devil beerio kart (it’s like beerio kart if you’ve ever played, I’ll explain the rules)

Basically NO DRUNK DRIVING

During one race, you have to finish your beer (or other drink) you can drink it all before the race, stop any time in between, or stop before you finish the race and chug your drink

After a few races y’all are LIT

You guys end up yapping for a while before you put on an anime and cuddle (Levi’s to drunk to be nervous)

When you both wake up your hurting and hungover and Levi is FREAKING

The hangsiety is real with him

Just keep cuddling with him and tell him it’s okay and to fall back asleep

Satan

He seems like the guy who doesn’t care to drink

But for you? And to see you drink? But of course

I think y’all pull out a board game or card game and take a shot every time you lose

He’s curious after every drink how your feeling even though his ability to remember things is getting fogged

He’s giggly when he’s drunk, and that’s a somewhat rare sight in your day to day life so you spend the rest of the night laughing and talking

Hates that your hurting in the morning (even though this was your idea)

Has all the medicines and drinks for you on hand to help you feel better

Demands silence in the house so your headache doesn’t get worse

Asmo

PARTY TIME

I mean.. this is a special occasion right? Just because you can’t leave the house doesn’t mean you can’t have fun!

A slumber party is in order with all the works! Face masks, popcorn and snacks, and doing your nails of course.

Y’all get silly and chat and gossip all night

But you have to tell him NO PICTURES even if he begs

I feel like y’all get super sappy drunk girl talking

“NO YOUR THE GREATEST PERSON IVE MET”

At some point, after a bit of drinking someone (both of ya) get the great idea to start prank calling people

You: “is your refrigerator running?”

Beel: “uhhh yeah”

You: “well then you better go catch it!!” *click*

The other brothers had to deal with Beel guarding the fridge in fear that it would ‘run away’

We all know you guys are BIG BABIES the next day being hungover

Be prepared to cuddle and complain together all the next day

Beel

He also doesn’t seem to be a drinking guy

But he’s down to try anything! I think he’d like cocktails with fun ingredients

DEF loves Bloody Mary’s

So I think that’s the night, y’all spend your night in the kitchen coming up with different drinks and getting drunker along the way

Y’all order WAYYY too much Chinese takeout and have a great time

Feel like beel gets sappy when he’s tipsy and tells you how much he cares about you and y’all snuggle and stuff

Makes you a DELICIOUS hangover meal for you

Like a Waffle House setup but at home

Def cuddles you and is worried if you feel bad the next day (I feel like beel doesn’t get hangovers)

Belphie

Feel like he’s not a drinker as well

But the opportunity to drink with you? And he’s the only one who can see? Oh yeah he needs to see this

Y’all decide a movie drinking game.

Example: watch pirates of the Caribbean and drink every time they say captain or ship

Y’all get lit QUICK

Decide to pull a prank on Lucifer and you guys talk FOREVER about the plan, what your gonna do and it’s happening TONIGHT

.. queue YALL falling asleep and never do anything LMAO

The next day is full of bedrotting and sleeping

He makes fun of you for anything silly you did

But you can make fun of him back, the way he was stumbling was really funny

In true drinking fashion I wrote this while I was drunk HELLO

Obviously not proofread love you!!! Been really sad about the story not continuing with obey me so I’ll be posting my drafts and more ideas a bit more often for a while

[zepskies]

Lost in Translation

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Female POC!Reader

Summary: Living with this man isn’t easy, and you’ve absolutely had it with him. Supe or not, you’re one step shy of kicking him out. Will he try to make it up to you? 

AN: So after getting requests for a Soldier Boy x POC!Reader, I’ve had a short series in development called Unravel Me. I’m a bit stalled on the outline right now, so I thought this could be a fun way to introduce their relationship and see if you guys think I should continue with the prequel, kind of like how I did with Checkerboard and the Break Me Down-verse.

This story would take place after Unravel Me, after a fair bit of character development lol. It also fulfills a bingo square for @jacklesversebingo!

Prompt: “Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!”

Song Inspo: “Damage” by H.E.R.

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, bit of dirty talk, fingering, edging, some angst, fluff and feels. The reader is a mixed race POC (Afro Latina), with textured hair. 

The apartment was quiet, but not peaceful.

You were in the kitchen washing the Mt. Everest of dishes piled in the sink, partly because someone hadn’t rinsed off his own plate of carne guisada.

Ben had asked for beef for dinner yesterday, and you’d graciously delivered with your grandmother’s recipe for the stew. It was filled with chunks of tender, fall-off-your-fork beef, garlic, onions, carrots, and more—all marinated to perfection, if you said so yourself. You even added in some little yellow potatoes, both for taste and texture.

Apparently, he couldn’t be bothered to put those meaty man muscles to good use, aside from shoveling three helpings into his mouth.

A bottomless pit and a freakin’ man-child, I swear to God, you inwardly groused as you scrubbed the ceramic a bit too hard with the rough side of the sponge. No matter how many times you asked, nicely, it seemed your boyfriend couldn’t manage to pull his weight around here.

Okay, you knew his job could be demanding, but so was yours.

What the hell is this, Maid in Manhattan? Newsflash: I’ve got shit to do too! 

“And I cooked!” you muttered in indignation. That reminder propelled you to scrub a bit harder. The least he could do was clean the kitchen. Or take out the trash. Or toss the laundry into the washing machine once in a while. Like you really wanted to handle his dirty boxers all the damn time.

Did he have no shame? Couldn’t he do anything for you without you having to ask him three million times?

Es que él es bruto, mija, as your Dominican grandma would say about your grandpa, often while swiping a tired hand over her long braids. Es como un animal con ropa.

Just then, you heard his heavy steps creaking on the wood floors in your bedroom. Today was his day off, so he was probably taking his sweet time rolling his ass out of bed.

Meanwhile, you were hustling to get the place at least decently clean before you got yourself together for work. The thought made you simmer as you continued to place dishes on the counter rack. Each one clacking to rest was satisfying, but it also ticked up your internal dial to a fine boil. 

You heard him bang the bathroom door open and cringed internally, your teeth grinding. You’d reminded him three times already about the neighbors and the noise.

Sabes que, supe or not, I’m about to— 

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Ben’s voice washed over you, deep and still a little rough with sleep as he stepped into the kitchen. His old man loafers slid against the floor with every step when he approached you from behind, and his heavy hands found a familiar resting place on the curve of your waist.

He swiped your slightly wild curls to the side and pressed a tantalizing kiss into your neck. His voice, his touch, the brief scrape of his beard; it all caused a small shiver of delight up your spine.

“Hmm, you smell good. Good enough to eat.” And he teased you with the graze of his teeth, biting gently enough where your neck met your shoulder. You flinched with half a huff, trying not to smile. 

Just like that, it took the edge off your irritation…a little. You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could…

“Hey,” he said, “since you’re already up and about in here, how about some breakf—”

Your spine tightened once again.

“Whatever you’re going to ask, the answer is No!” you snapped. You moved out of his arms to grab a hand towel to dry your hands with. They were all pruny from washing dishes.

“I’m already running late. Why? Because this place is a fucking mess, and the only one who seems to care is me!” you exclaimed. First, you gestured to the dishes now drying on the rack. “Hmm?”

You then opened up the lid to the full-to-bursting trashcan. “What do you call that, huh? You said you’d take this out last night. After I asked you twice. What, was I not speaking English? Did something get lost in translation, or are you already losing your hearing? Just let me know, ‘cause I can sure as hell crank up the volume for you!”

Ben raised a brow. You read his thoughts in his surly frown. You have some fucking audacity, talking to him like that, but it’s still early. He hasn’t even had his coffee, for Christ’s sake.

If he was more awake, no doubt he’d be barking back at you. Instead, he heaved a sigh, drew closer to you and shut the trashcan lid. At least there was one lid he knew how to close.

“All right, it’s just a little mess. No need to get fucking hysterical,” he said, trying to grasp your arm to placate you. You shrugged out of his hold and crossed your arms in anger.

“Ben, it’s not just a little mess. And what is this, 1945? I’m not hysterical!”

His lips twitched at a smirk, making you even angrier. But he’d caught enough smoke from you in the past to know he didn’t want it at 8:00 in the morning. He grasped your arms and rubbed them up and down, trying to sooth you.

“Okay, okay. It’s a little early for all this Latina temper, don’tcha think?” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Your gaze snapped up at him with a glare.

Oooh, this man. He knew how to get you mad fucking tight.

Not in a good way.

Instead of exploding like Mount Fuji, you kept it all under your skin. You turned away from him and aimed to continue getting ready for work, but first, you took out a Greek yogurt from the fridge and wholly ignored him taking up space in the kitchen. You wouldn’t answer him when he called your name. In fact, you were going to give him the most frigid of cold shoulders—so cold he’d get hyperthermia through that invulnerable skin.

He waylaid your plans when he grabbed your hand, swinging you back into his arms. You gasped at the suddenness of it, looking up into his cocky, charming smile. You couldn’t stare too long at his green eyes, or the rest of his handsome, bearded face. Not when he knew exactly how to use it against you.

“Don’t think that’s gonna get you out of this,” you warned him. You set your yogurt on the kitchen counter and pushed at his chest, but it was no more effective than pushing at a mountain and expecting it to move.

His hands spanned your waist, his fingers beginning to press into your soft sides. He bowed his head, brushing his lips against your neck and the shell of your ear when he said, “Out of what, baby doll? Looks to me like we can still have a good morning.”

His voice once against trilled heat and tingles through your body, but you managed to lean back, holding the pads of your fingers to his lips.

“Hey, I’m not playing around here. If we’re gonna do this,” you pointed between him and yourself, “then let me make one thing really clear. I’m not la sirvienta around here, okay? I’m not your fucking maid. I’m your girl. Your partner. And since you live here now, I’m gonna need you to do your part.”

Ben almost rolled his eyes, but you grasped his chin. He frowned at you with furrowed brows. There was a time where he would've been inclined to grab your wrist and try to intimidate you with his temper. You saw it lying in wait behind his pursed lips and irritated stare, but you weren't afraid of him. Not anymore.

“Listen to me. I get that you haven’t lived like us commoners for most of your life, but this stuff is important,” you said. You took a deep breath, and you counted to three. You met him with a calmer gaze. “Ben, I love you.”

You let go of his chin and lowered your hand, letting it splay over his chest. He softened, ever so slightly, even though his frown remained.

“I love you,” you repeated, “but I don’t need a man-child.”

"Excuse me?" he did snap this time, his hold loosening from around your waist. "The fuck did you just say?"

You narrowed your eyes right back at him.

"You heard me," you said. "I want a man. A man who's going to be my rock when I need him. Can you do that for me, like I do for you? Are you gonna be my man, or do I need to claim you as a dependent on my taxes?"

His expression sharpened again at your thinly veiled accusation…but the longer he looked into your eyes, no longer angry, but earnest and imploring, the more he actually listened to what you were saying. His jaw worked for a moment in annoyance. You subtly softened him with your hands soothing up and down his arms, a slow back and forth over solid, warm muscle.

Eventually, he was able to curb his instinct to bark a callous reply. He nodded, expelling a breath through his nose.

“Fine,” he said.

Your brows rose. “Fine?”

“Yeah,” he said flatly.

You knew it was the closest you were going to get to an agreement, as well as an apology. You were still working on that last one, but dating this man was a work in progress, for both of you. With a sigh, you patted his arms that were slowly wrapping back around you.

“Okay, I’m really running late now,” you said.

“You should probably get a move on then,” Ben said.

Still, he didn’t release you. He stared down at you with an amused smile while you struggled against his hold. You uttered a laugh.

“Babe, I need to get to work.” You leaned over and spied the oven clock. “Oh, shit! it’s almost 8:30! If I’m not there by 9:00—”

“You sure you want to go now? Tense, body all tight,” he said, his voice deep with sensuous suggestion.

His lips neared yours, but he didn’t kiss you. Not yet. His lips veered away to brush against your cheek. He inhaled deeply as he moved, taking in the floral scent of your soap, mixed with the army of products you styled your hair with, and the faint imprint of your perfume from the night before. He skimmed down your neck and along the shell of your ear.

“Wouldn’t you rather I fuck all that tension right out of you?” he offered. “Leave you nice and warm and satisfied, have that pretty pussy coming hard on my cock.”

You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes as his filthy mouth and the timbre of his voice struck a chord through your body, tinging warm arousal between your legs. Your fingers tightened on his strong arms, digging into the fabric of his loose robe. Ben took that as a wordless confirmation. He bent at the knees and grabbed you up by your plush thighs. You wrapped your arms around his neck on instinct, with a small gasp.

But you recovered quickly. Taking his face into your hands, you met his lips roughly with yours in a devouring kiss. He set you down on the kitchen counter hard enough to make the clean dishes rattle. His hands were just as claiming as his mouth, squeezing your hips and thighs as he spread them open to make more room for himself.

While your tongue dueled with his, you shoved the robe off his shoulders, followed by his sleep shirt pooling to the floor. His hand slid under your top as well, and almost ripped it at the hem in his haste to get it up and over your head.

“Ow, ah-ow!” You giggled when the collar got caught on your hair. Ben’s breathy chuckle reached your ears. He was gentler in how he helped get the shirt off the rest of the way. Your mane of hair fell into your face, and you huffed.

Ben did you the favor of brushing the thick curls away from your eyes, tugging several strands behind your ears, even though most of them didn’t obey him. He framed your face with his big hands, and his thumbs swept along your skin, the rich complexion shining in the morning light filtering through the kitchen window.

There was more care in his touch now, his strength tempered just for you. Fond amusement colored his features. For as much shit as you gave him, you still gave him more of yourself; more of your trust, your patience...and all the rest of it. You gave him more than anyone that had come before you, and deep inside, he doubted anyone that might come after you.

You smiled up at him, a little wryly. You leaned up and met him for a gentler kiss. Your eyes fell closed at the feeling of him, and the spicy hint of his aftershave. It was a scent that often clung to his pillows. When he was gone on a mission for days on end, you wouldn’t admit to clinging to one of them to help you sleep, and make you feel safe. 

“Mmm, you smell good,” you whispered. And it was true. He smelled like mint and spicy aftershave. You plied his lips with deeper kisses, licking into his mouth with a sensuous tongue, before you stole his words. “Good enough to eat.”

He uttered a groan deep in his throat. It satisfied you, enhancing the warm flood between your legs.  

Fuck it. You were calling in sick today.

You drew him back into the pull of you, winding your arms around his neck and your fingers in his hair. It was getting long again, but you liked it. You liked something to hold onto, just as much as he did. Your nails brushed against his scalp, down the back of his neck, earning a hum of pleasure from him. You wound your legs tightly around his hips and invited the press of his hard cock against your throbbing core, even through your panties and pajama pants. A faltering groan caught in his chest.

“Needier that I thought this morning,” he remarked. His warm hands drifted down to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over dark, pebbled nipples. You sighed into his mouth in response.

You heard the cocky grin in his voice, but for once, you didn’t care. You did need him. You wanted him to fuck the stress and chaos out of you.

…Well, he’d caused most of it, but still. He was gonna damn well fix it.

And he aimed to do just that, with his hands sliding farther down your body with purpose, grabbing the waistband of your pajama pants and roughly sliding them down, along with your panties. Your bare ass felt cold against the tile counter, but you didn’t have too much time to think about it with Ben’s thick fingers probing between the wet, glistening folds of your pussy. He soon found what he was searching for, circling firmly over your clit.

Your hips raised off the counter as you whimpered against his lips and ground yourself against his hand. You broke from his kiss to bury your face in his neck. Ben’s free hand grasped your hip and pulled you right to the edge of the counter.

There he held you down, his brows furrowing in concentration. His fingers sought your entrance and slipped inside you with ease. By now, he knew what angles would have you squirming, writhing, your body arching into him, while your inner walls clenched around his hand.

“Fuck. That’s right, baby doll. I’ve gotcha,” he said roughly, continuing to fuck your pussy with his fingers. His thumb rubbed against your clit between strokes.

The coil in your lower belly began to tighten, the delicious throbbing deep inside beginning to make your thighs shake. But just as you felt yourself tipping over the edge, Ben withdrew his fingers from your sopping channel.

You struggled to catch your breath in shock. Your head raised from Ben’s shoulder to glare at him. When your mouth opened to deliver an indignant protest, he silenced you with his mouth claiming yours. Your nails bit into his shoulder in retaliation, even though you knew it wouldn’t hurt him in the slightest. In fact, it only curved his lips into a smirk against yours.

You slapped him on the shoulder, immensely frustrated, but also laughing. “You’re such an assh—”

Before you could even finish cursing him, he gathered you up again and lifted you off the counter. He walked you over to the couch in the living room. He would’ve loved nothing better than to lay you out across the two-seater table in the kitchen, but he thought the shitty old wood might just give out under the strain of him fucking you. So the living room was a close second, and in this tiny-ass apartment, it was barely a few feet more to walk.

He laid you out underneath him on couch, and it groaned and squeaked under both of your weight. You squeaked too, if for a different reason. It had Ben smirking down at you. He freed himself from the confines of his pajama pants and coated his rock-hard arousal with the leftover wetness coating his hand.

“I approve of the scene change,” you said breathlessly, once again stroking his arms. Your fingers slipped over every dip and plain of muscle.  

“Didn’t think you wanted to be fucked on some cold tile,” he said, even if the sentiment behind his words warmed you. You were pretty sure he didn’t used to care about that. At least, before he met you.

He grabbed your hips, lined himself up to your entrance, and his cock breached you smoothly, pushing into you until his hips fit snugly against yours.

“Oh, fuck,” you choked out, your thighs squeezing around his frame.

“Feel good, sweetheart? All fuckin' filled up,” Ben teased, a bit breathless himself. You were a tight fucking fit. He slid out of you experimentally, drawing a moan from your lips. You nodded.

“Yeah, baby. So good,” you freely admitted, panting all the while.

Ben’s hot gaze drew over you as he continued moving hard and fast inside you. He took in your every bare curve, the way hot breaths and sexy moans fell from your lips with every thrust, the way your hair fanned out underneath you and hung off the side of the sofa cushion, the way your hands still explored him and touched him, demanding, but still loving.

For that, it was all the more tantalizing against his skin, warming even the darkest places he tried not to show you.

And every drag of his cock inside you stretched your inner walls in the most delicious of ways. It wasn’t just that he was able to fill you to the fucking brim. He also just knew his way around a woman’s body. He knew you, and he knew exactly how to make you come undone. Even quick and dirty on your couch, he made you feel brand new. 

He was right, damn him.

The coil deep inside you snapped. Pleasure crested through you and made your inner walls squeeze him tight, fluttering and pulsing with warmth. You came hard on his cock, hard enough to milk his release shortly after for all he was worth.

His forearms fell to the cushion on either side of your head. You were basically being smothered, but for the moment you didn’t mind. You just held his sweat-slick body against yours while you both caught your breath, each of your heartbeats falling back into a steady rhythm.

He was always so damn warm. It was nice, considering how cold it was this winter, but the thought always made you a bit sad. It reminded you of the power housed in his chest, and every memory he caged there as well.

You laid a gentle kiss on his shoulder. In return, his lips found the side of your head and hesitated there.

“You’re not going to work,” he said. It was more an observation than anything else.

You laughed breathlessly and shook your head. “Nope.”

He nodded. “Let’s go out for breakfast.”

You could get behind that. Your kitchen was finally clean, which meant your kitchen was closed until further notice.

“Shower first,” you stipulated.

You felt Ben’s smile grow against your dewy skin. “All right.”

You sighed, and he guided you to your feet along with him. You had a feeling “breakfast” was going to be lunch by the time you and Ben finally escaped this apartment.      

AN: Lol hope you had fun with this one! Let me know if you'd like to see more of these two! 💚💚

Spanish Translations:

Es que él es bruto, mija. Es como un animal con ropa.

It’s that he’s stupid, my daughter. He's like an animal with clothes.

However, “bruto” can also mean brutish, crude, and/or like a beast, so it fits in more than one way. 😂

Sabes que, …

You know what, …

La sirvienta

The servant (or maid) (female)

Join Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Jacklesverse Bingo 2024 Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Soldier Boy Tag List

@spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @adoringanakin @rizlowwritessortof @chernayawidow

@midnightmadwoman @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms

@waynes-multiverse @my-stories-vault @syrma-sensei @alwaystiredandconfused @globetrotter28

@mrsjenniferwinchester @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @k-slla @deanbrainrotwritings

@jackles010378 @deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @just-levyy

@leigh70 @kmc1989 @ghostslillady @siampie @jessjad

@beautyvaliant @mimaria420 @kaleldobrev @pieandmonsters @twinkleinadiamondsky

@stoneyggirl2 @sl33pylilbunny @spnfamily-j2 @mostlymarvelgirl @artemys-ackles

@chevroletdean @winchestergirl2 @a-lil-pr1ncess @winchester-whiskey @spnbabe67

@cheynovak @megara0224 @yoongi-holland @illicithallways @perpetualabsurdity

@deansimpala @impala-dreamer @jc-winchester @k4marina @atenea585

@kayleighwinchester @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @star-yawnznn @number1whorehome

@g0ldfishd00dles @10ava01 @sixxteenbullets @tayl0rfanatic @everything-is-all-clear

@suckitands33 @cookiechipdough @trashmoutth @riteofpassage77 @mxltifxnd0m

@bleuatlas @luci-in-trenchcoats @valerinapetrova @spnaquakindgdom @podiumackles

@ladykitana90

@lamentationsofalonelypotato (I believe you said you would like to be tagged in this one. If not, I'm sorry, friend. Please disregard! 💚)

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 5 part 5

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5])

jen just shakes her head, bitter and not in the least surprised at what agatha did

meanwhile agatha is... she's just devastated

billy is the only person in the room who has never experienced and still doesn't comprehend the finality of death

agatha runs, she can't do anything else. rio is the only one that cares.

she looks so pathetic in that getup. her behaving like a little girl is not so funny anymore, is it?

as always, rio watches her. she has a lot to think about after this trial.

but alice needs her undivided attention now. lady death has to clock in.

I'm glad that we keep focusing on agatha's reaction. she used to be able to kill people and shake it off (or at least pretend to). she cannot shake alice off

and it was all for a tiny spark of magic. that is all that's left of alice on the mortal plane

when billy confronts her she visibly recoils and shrinks in on herself, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar

one hand on her own heart, one on billy's heart. like she's begging and willing him to understand

it's not: you lied. it's you lied to me. it's personal. it's the trust he had in a mentor and mother figure, irrevocably broken

agatha never lies to billy. she's shitty with him in many other ways, but she doesn't lie

billy, honey. you set out on a road trip with a literal serial killer.

agatha had this mad fantasy of billy and her becoming a family, a coven two. and of course she went and ruined it. she always does

jen has all her walls firmly up, she won't allow herself to grieve for alice. she's still on the verge of walking a dark path, and agatha is the one pushing and pushing her toward it

lilia, who has lost and grieved so many, is just numb with pain. Death is unstoppable. hey guys, remember the first three episodes? when everything seemed so fun and carefree?

to billy witches were spellbooks and broomsticks and hot topic eyeliner. how do you explain to a kid the ugliness and violence and trauma that will inevitably fester in a marginalized, repressed community?

from the mouth of a child. she might have killed alice by accident. she has been deliberately and systematically killing many more to serve her own agenda.

and what agatha does, when confronted with ugly truths? she runs, and if she can't run, she goes all in with the spectacle and the cruelty

she could have picked any moment to talk about wanda. she could have broken the news gently, eased billy into understanding what he's been doing. now she's just lashing out in anger and fear and pain. billy did just put her through hell, but she's still the only adult of the two, no matter how immature she wishes to act

when push comes to shove, when it all becomes too much, agatha will latch to her self-preservation instincts and choose to protect herself over anyone else, even the people she loves. She's doing it with billy, she's doing it with rio. I'd argue that she did it with nicky, too.

hey, hey agatha, remember what happened the last time you poked a chaos witch with a stick? you dumb idiot.

fucking around meets finding out etc etc etc etc

boy is she SCREAMING. this bitch will never go down quietly, she'll snivel and cry like the sad pathetic creature she is

and the parallels and the irony of billy hurting jen and lilia in his grief.

do you guys laugh too when bille ellish pops in?? I love how agatha later says that billy is dramatic because he's a maximoff. honey, wanda was only ever coming up with cute sitcom scenarios. this is all your doing, you and your dramatic ass. this is your son. drama queen and drama queen in training.

[demon-country]

#wiggles hands #i personally think that stolas had it wrong because even before blitzø started yelling #stolas thought blitzø didnt feel the same and immediately ditched as opposed to like?? giving him a fucking minute to process?? not cool??? #like yes the trauma response about being yelled at and setting boundaries and all that. thats fine #but Why stolas did you Immediately leave it wasnt even a rejection he just didnt Understand #give him a Fucking SECOND!!?? #which is smth blitzø also yells abt in full moon iirc! bc like DUH!!??? #and there IS power imbalance in the way stolas just tosses blitzø outside via teleportation. #it DOES imply he thinks little of blitzø In That Moment bc hes 'seeing his abuser' #but like... he would not teleport stella outside like that. even when he asserted his boundaries w her he NEVER did that shit #it WAS disrespectful to blitzø. it was. and the immediate dismissiveness the next morning obv didnt fuckin help #cuz blitzø immediately went on the defensive and like yeah he said horrible shit but FUCK DUDE he didnt instigate it! #like yeah stolas doesnt have to sit there and take it EXCEPT HES THE ONE WHO FUCKING INITIATED THE ISSUE? SO YES HE KIND OF DOES HAVE TO#HEAR BLITZØ OUT AND SIT THERE?? #puts my head in my hands. #and all the ppl talking abt ou well its stolas' house so he gets to portal blitzø out! #you are a fucking dick? you cant spring a huge relationship change on somebody and then run off and act the hurt party when they havent even #processed it yet! and then KICK THEM OUT when they understandably get ANGRY at you dismissing them? and HELLO. STOLAS DISMISSES BLITZØ.#HES NOT ONE OF YOUR SERVANT IMPS DUDE! HELLOOOO?????? #idk idk idk like stolas was definitely going through it but HOLY SHIT you guys cant be serious when you say it was equal on both sides #when theres a very obvious clear systemic power imbalance. like youre FUCKING WITH ME?? you cant be serious rn.

Wow. This... sure is a lot of extremely bad faith misinterpretations of those scenes. I'm going to address all of this step by step, I guess, because my dude, you are wildly off the mark on basically everything you accused Stolas of. So I hope you're ready, because this reply is going to be very long.

"#i personally think that stolas had it wrong because even before blitzø started yelling #stolas thought blitzø didnt feel the same and immediately ditched as opposed to like?? giving him a fucking minute to process?? not cool??? #like yes the trauma response about being yelled at and setting boundaries and all that. thats fine #but Why stolas did you Immediately leave it wasnt even a rejection he just didnt Understand #give him a Fucking SECOND!!?? #which is smth blitzø also yells abt in full moon iirc! bc like DUH!!???"

Yeah no, Stolas had every right to walk away, and was 100% justified in doing so. Maybe it wasn't entirely fair to Blitz, because on his end of things it looked totally different, but you already seem to understand what it looked like from Blitz's pov, so since we're talking about whether they equally fucked up or not, then I want you to step back from that and think about how it looked to Stolas, too.

Blitz did not respond to Stolas' confession with "hold the fuck on" or "what the fuck?" or "what do you mean?", nor did he do literally anything at all to suggest that he was confused or needed a moment to process what Stolas was saying. Blitz's immediate, snap reaction was to go "ohhh, okay you're fucking with me! This is an interesting roleplay, never done this one before but I can get into it. 'Ohhh, Stolas, I'll stay with you~! I love you sooo much~!'"

Perhaps you've never experienced this, but let me assure you that it is soul-crushingly awful to confess something important to you to someone you trust, only for them to completely write it off as a joke and/or make fun of you for it. It's extremely humiliating and feels like a deep betrayal, because you trusted them and were vulnerable with them, and in return all you got was mockery.

I've asked a number of real life actual people who have all, without fail, said that if that happened to them they'd end the conversation right there and walk away. Most of them, including me, said they'd leave just so they could go cry in private, and one said that they'd basically say "fuck you" and leave because they were pissed off. Stolas was the former. Take a moment to really, genuinely think about what your own reaction would be to having someone you love and trust make fun of you after you confess something important and vulnerable. It doesn't have to be a love confession, mine certainly wasn't, but do you honestly think you'd want to stick around after that?

So Stolas would have been justified in walking away just from that. He was very kind as he took his leave too and tried to bow out as gracefully as he could without causing a fuss, which is made all the more impressive because Blitz unintentionally triggered Stolas' trauma with the roleplay bit. Stolas has lived with Stella for 18 years at this point in the timeline, and part of how she abused him was humiliating him and mocking his feelings. He hides it decently well with Stella, because he's had decades of practice at this point, but we see in Ozzie's that being humiliated, especially in public, is a trauma landmine that Blitz tripped right onto. Yeah, he's going to leave, and it's not a fault that he does.

Moreover, you'll notice that Stolas doesn't kick Blitz out here or tell him to leave. He walks away further into the house, and yes he's probably expecting that Blitz will take it as an opportunity to bounce, but he does not tell him to go. Blitz could have waited as he took the moment he needed and thought things over, and then talked and asked whatever questions he needed to after Stolas came back. It was his bedroom and it was midnight, it's not like Stolas wasn't going to come back within the next couple of hours. Or Blitz could have left, thought things over, and come back. Instead, he followed after Stolas, which wasn't a great feeling for either of them, because Stolas was only barely staving off a breakdown and Blitz was getting hit in that abandonment trauma all over again, but Stolas walking off scared him so he acted on the impulse to not let Stolas get away. 

And he started off fine! Even though he was basically chasing Stolas, he wasn't angry or anything. He asked "wait, you were serious?! Hold on now, Stolas. What the fuck?" and Stolas did his best to answer even as he kept walking, rather than telling him to go away or kicking him out. His answer was poorly worded though and it set Blitz off, which is when we get to your next point.

#and there IS power imbalance in the way stolas just tosses blitzø outside via teleportation. #it DOES imply he thinks little of blitzø In That Moment bc hes 'seeing his abuser' #but like... he would not teleport stella outside like that. even when he asserted his boundaries w her he NEVER did that shit #it WAS disrespectful to blitzø. it was.

???? How on earth did you reach this conclusion?? Of course Stolas would never teleport Stella outside like that. That's not respect, that's fear. It took everything he had to stand up to Stella the way he did, which we know because he collapsed as soon as she was gone. He was terrified of her; he was backing away while she approached and knew she was about to hit him. He was fighting back, yes, but you can tell from her reaction that he almost never has in the past. It had nothing to do with respecting her, because his normal response seems to be either standing there silently taking the abuse or shrinking in on himself while trying to placate her.

As for what happened in the ballroom, Stolas was triggered for the second time in just a handful of minutes, this time by Blitz slamming open the door and yelling. It says absolutely nothing about how much Stolas does or does not respect him that these actions triggered a trauma response in Stolas. Trauma doesn't work like that. Anyone doing that to Stolas would have made him panic, because when you're experiencing a traumatic reaction, even if you're somewhere safe with someone you implicitly trust, your brain freaks the fuck out.

It was in no way disrespectful to kick Blitz out, it was just Stolas going into extreme Flight mode. Blitz wasn't letting him leave and at the end even ran towards him (to apologize, but Stolas had no way of knowing that and Blitz was already half out the portal before he started to say sorry and didn't even finish it. Also, you hear Stolas very faintly saying he's sorry before the portal closes), of course he's going to force Blitz out! He didn't want a fight with Blitz like he had with Stella, because he wasn't angry, he just wanted to be alone.

"and the immediate dismissiveness the next morning obv didnt fuckin help #cuz blitzø immediately went on the defensive and like yeah he said horrible shit but FUCK DUDE he didnt instigate it! #like yeah stolas doesnt have to sit there and take it EXCEPT HES THE ONE WHO FUCKING INITIATED THE ISSUE? SO YES HE KIND OF DOES HAVE TO#HEAR BLITZØ OUT AND SIT THERE??"

No, he really, really does not have to sit there and hear Blitz out. Stolas made it very clear in actual words that he did not want to see Blitz right then, because he was feeling too raw so soon after everything and Blitz was not giving him any space to breathe. And Blitz, once again, did not leave. He also, you'll notice, didn't force Blitz to leave, he just asked him to go, because this time he wasn't outright panicking. And even then, he kept giving Blitz chances to talk things out with him, showing that he wasn't dismissing Blitz.

Also, you're really telling me that you think a victim of domestic violence should be forced to stick around when someone is yelling at them? It doesn't matter if he "initiated things", that doesn't mean he's going to okay when someone starts grabbing and yelling at him. If Blitz was being calmer about it, and wasn't continually intentionally mocking Stolas and his feelings throughout that conversation (which, again, big trigger for Stolas, he's just hiding it better now because he was braced for it. Note that he's reacting a lot like he did when Stella was mocking him at the party) then I might agree with you. If Stolas had actually instigated the garden scene by telling Blitz to come over and then refused to listen while Blitz tried to explain, that'd be super fucked up. But Stolas didn't ask Blitz to come over, explicitly told him to leave because it hurt to much to talk to him right then, and Blitz was not being calm. Blitz was self-destructing and was being both clingy and aggressive, because he was scared of losing Stolas but was even more terrified of being vulnerable, and he habitually masks his fear with anger.

"#puts my head in my hands. #and all the ppl talking abt ou well its stolas' house so he gets to portal blitzø out! #you are a fucking dick? you cant spring a huge relationship change on somebody and then run off and act the hurt party when they havent even #processed it yet! and then KICK THEM OUT when they understandably get ANGRY at you dismissing them? and HELLO. STOLAS DISMISSES BLITZØ."

Buddy. Dude. Stolas didn't actually spring this on Blitz. Blitz literally says at the beginning of the episode that he's been avoiding Stolas because he knows Stolas wants to talk, and he doesn't want things to become complicated. He knows things will change as soon as he actually talks to Stolas and that freaks him out, because in his mind it can't possibly be something good, and this fear is exacerbated by what Loona told him. He literally tells Fizz that Stolas does things to show he likes him, and multiple people have flat out told Blitz that he does, and Blitz can't believe that for multiple reasons, but this entire thing has been building up for months and he knows it. 

Stolas also did not spring his "feelings bullshit" on Blitz either, despite what Blitz claimed. It might have felt like it, because up until then he was in complete denial of those feelings being genuine, but Stolas has not been subtle, by any means. He has, in his and everyone else's minds, been showing Blitz that he cares about him at the very least as a friend, since this whole thing started. Even in fucking Loo Loo Land, despite him awkwardly trying to flirt with Blitz a couple of times, he doesn't actually try to start anything while they're there. He doesn't even seem to expect something sexual to happen between them at all, because he says he wants Blitz and his employees to come and immediately offers to pay Blitz with money, rather than sexual favors like Blitz anticipated. He's using it as an excuse to hang out with Blitz - because he's an idiot who didn't think about how uncomfortable it'd be for literally everyone involved, especially Octavia - and Blitz even knows that because he knows Stolas doesn't actually need one bodyguard, let alone three.

He invited all of them to the harvest moon festival because he thought it'd be fun, again with no expectation of anything sexy happening. He came to rescue I.M.P. with no ulterior motive, he just wanted to help them. He didn't ask for or suggest that he wanted sex in return for the save either, he just asked for a thank you in a very pouty voice because none of them thanked him, and Blitz turned things sexual, which he was happy to follow the lead on. He was super excited for the date, dressed up super fancy, proudly walked into Ozzie's holding Blitz's hand, tried over and over to talk to Blitz because he thought it was a real date, stood up to defend Blitz from Verosika (which Blitz didn't see and which he didn't get to follow through on, because Ozzie took that chance to go on the attack and publicly humiliate him), and even after that disaster he still invited Blitz in solely to hang out and maybe cuddle a bit.

He would ask Blitz to stay the night after they were done having sex instead of just kicking him out, which we see in the memory fragments. He called Blitz on the regular just to talk about his day and was frequently interacting with him on social media, both for approximately a year and a half. He was oblivious to how condescending his attempts at flirting were and had no idea how demeaning it was for Blitz until Blitz finally showed him how much all that hurt him (after Ozzie's), but he only was acting like that and talking that way because he genuinely believed that it was what Blitz wanted and was into, based on their first night together (doesn't excuse it, of course, but it was another way he was desperately trying to show how much he wanted Blitz).

For close to two years by the time The Full Moon rolled around, Stolas has been trying very hard and kind of ineptly to show Blitz he likes him, and at the very least wants to be real friends with him (that also have sex). Literally everyone who has seen them together knows how much Stolas likes Blitz, including Blitz despite him being in denial of it. He has tried again and again and again for nearly two years to show Blitz he cares about him and wants him around, and Blitz - for understandable reasons given his own trauma, history, biases, and hangups - has rejected him time and again. That's why Stolas was expecting Blitz to reject him following his confession. He expected Blitz to tell him to fuck off or to just take the crystal and run without looking back, but he didn't expect to be (unintentionally) mocked. He didn't expect Blitz, who he trusted, to humiliate him. Even without the trauma he has surrounding that, after all the other rejections of course Stolas is going to take Blitz mocking him as another rejection. He didn't think Blitz was confused, because he thinks he's made his feelings pretty damn clear for ages now, and that's why he said he had his answer and was trying to leave before he started crying - which most people hate to do, because crying in front of other people is often a mortifying experience.

"STOLAS DISMISSES BLITZØ.#HES NOT ONE OF YOUR SERVANT IMPS DUDE! HELLOOOO?????? #idk idk idk like stolas was definitely going through it but HOLY SHIT you guys cant be serious when you say it was equal on both sides #when theres a very obvious clear systemic power imbalance. like youre FUCKING WITH ME?? you cant be serious rn"

He wasn't dismissing Blitz. He super fucking did not. He wanted to be alone so he could go cry his guts out, and Blitz was scaring him by getting angry and slamming open doors. That's not dismissing someone, that's going into panic mode. He wasn't treating him like a servant, if he was he would have been bored and unaffected and told him to go. He. Was. Scared. He was hurt and humiliated and scared and Blitz was chasing him down and yelling at him. It's not playing the victim to be scared and it's not playing the victim when your feelings get mocked and you want to get away from the person who just stomped all over your heart.

Blitz's reactions make sense from his end, and absolutely he was being triggered too - he was in fact the one triggered first, though that too was by accident. Yes, his anger was justified and he had every right to express it when he felt he wasn't being listened to. Yes, he wasn't intending to scare Stolas. Yes, Stolas has messed up and hurt Blitz in numerous ways over the course of the series. But my god, that does not mean that Stolas' feelings and reactions are any less justified and reasonable.

It was equal on both sides. They both equally fucked up. They both accidentally hurt and triggered each other. They both were scared. Stolas sending Blitz away was the only thing he could think of to de-escalate the situation, because Blitz was actively trying to pick a fight and Stolas had no idea that Blitz would stop just because he started crying (you think anyone else has ever stopped just because he cried? We literally see both Stella and Paimon mock him for it, and Stolas isn't exactly in a rational sort of mindset here).

Are you really, honestly, truly telling me that you would be fine just standing there and letting someone who just hurt you scream at you in a way that reminded you of both your domestic abuser and the person who recently tried to murder and mutilate you? Are you kidding me? You have completely misinterpreted everything Stolas has said and done in those two episodes by refusing to look at it with any amount of sympathy or compassion and immediately jumping to the worst possible scenario.

"Stolas shouldn't have portalled out Blitz during Full Moon" this and "Stolas should have stuck around and listened to Blitz in the garden during Apology Tour" that. Do y'all not realize how it sounds to demand that a domestic abuse victim stick around when someone is yelling at and insulting them? And on the flip side of that, do the other half of y'all not realize how it sounds to demand that someone, particularly someone from an oppressed group, never get loud or demonstrably angry just because it might scare someone?

Like Blitz had every right to air his grievances in Full Moon, and being angry when you're treated poorly is a perfectly normal, reasonable response. It's not inherently abusive to yell and stomp when you get mad, and it's completely unreasonable to say that Blitz is just because he did. But at the same time, Stolas does not have to sit there and take being yelled at when he's already had to suffer though someone doing it to him maliciously for at least 17 years. He does not have to take being grabbed, being screamed at, or having his clearly stated boundaries ignored either, like at the beginning of Apology Tour. Him getting upset when someone does that to him, when he's only just gotten away from his abuser and was almost murdered for it, is not some failing on his part or him playing the victim.

Blitz's trauma doesn't care that Stolas wasn't actually going to abandon Blitz, and it doesn't care that that the hurtful things Stolas has said and done have come largely from a place of ignorance rather than a lack of care. He's protecting himself the only way he knows how and is blinded by the sheer intensity and longevity of his self-loathing, but frankly it was a good thing for him to finally speak up about how some of the things Stolas does makes him feel, and it's a very good thing that he's actually trying to fight to keep Stolas rather than just booking it and throwing a grenade behind him on the way out.

Just like Stolas' trauma doesn't care if he knows Blitz is different than Stella and wouldn't actually hurt him, and it doesn't care that Blitz's anger comes from a hurt, scared, and traumatized place as opposed to the pleasure Stella took in hurting and scaring him. Stolas hasn't had any time to even begin to heal from the damage she did to him, and frankly if he's scared and breaking down like in Full Moon it's actually a step up if he's removing himself from whoever is triggering him, even if it wasn't fair to Blitz who was, in his own way, attempting to work things out.

Neither of them is the bad guy here, they're just very reasonably upset and having clashing trauma responses. You can be compassionate and understanding of both sides without saying that either of them should have to just sit there and take it when someone is greatly upsetting them. It's normal to get angry when you're scared and upset, and it's normal to cry and run away when you're scared and upset, and neither are wrong or bad just because in the moment when emotions were running high they each did several things that accidently set the other off, especially when they had no way of knowing it was a trigger beforehand.

None of this is say that the way things shook out was great or productive, and they definitely need to work on healing so that they're not letting their fear and trauma control them. If they're going to get to place of real understanding, then at some point these two need to sit down with the intent to talk things out and have an honest and open conversation with each other, without Blitz yelling or Stolas running or either of them letting their preconceived assumptions and biases get in the way of actually listening. Blitz needs to not self-sabotage and Stolas needs to not shut down, and that's going to be really fucking hard for both of them, because that's how they've been coping with their trauma for literal decades.

And to his major credit, Blitz got it right at the end of Apology Tour, the only thing he got wrong was the timing because Stolas was so drunk that I'll be honestly surprised if he remembers most of it in the morning. He wasn't in any state of mind to listen or pay attention, but at the same time, to his credit he's already been reflecting on what Blitz has been saying to him and trying to figure out where and how he fucked up and hurt Blitz. And also, he kept saying things like "right now", which means he will be ready to talk things out eventually if he's just given a little bit of space to put himself back together and think about things.

And guys, please. Just because some people will start crying to try to manipulate and guilt trip those around them whenever someone gets upset at something they did, doesn't make that what Stolas did. He was trying to get away so Blitz wouldn't see him cry. And just because some people like to fly off the handle and rage at every perceived infraction, doesn't make that what Blitz did. He had justifiable cause to be angry and in Full Moon he didn't think Stolas was listening, so he tried to make himself louder and bigger in an attempt to make himself be heard and his hurt be acknowledged. If one of their reactions made you uncomfortable, that's fine, there's nothing wrong with that. But the story isn't about those kinds of people, it's about two fictional demons who aren't trying to hurt or manipulate each other, they're just struggling to juggle trauma, ignorance, and the desire to be together. They're not able to yet, but that's what character arcs are for.

And just to head off any comments on it: no, the narrative is not villifying Blitz and it's not babying Stolas or trying to sweep any of the shit he's done under the rug. Blitz being angry and self-destructive doesn't make him a villain, and Stolas crying a few times and still being pretty ignorant of how he's come across doesn't mean they're trying to say he's done nothing wrong.

[hulloitsdani]

Okay so I started transcribing book 4 and I was going to save all my thoughts for the review post, but I HAVE to gush about this.

That’s delightfully not Alfonse.

Since I have written the past few books down, I can immediately compare and contrast how Alfonse and “Alfonse” talk. The differences are immediate. That little “Huh.” ended up striking me as odd, so I opened the search feature on the document and found that huh has only been uttered three times prior to this. Once by Sharena in book 1 and twice by Ylgr in book 2. Alfonse has never uttered a huh in his life, which means that’s a little Kiran speech pattern!!! Cool!!!

Kiran also tends to talk slower and meander a little in their sentences. So far, there has been an ellipses in nearly every “Alfonse” textbox. It’s because they’re thinking. They have a lot of new information to process on account of finding themselves in a brand new realm and Peony info dropping weird tidbits about how this place works with the unexpectedness of an elephant dropping from the sky. So, thanks to some multitasking, they seem to be picking their words as they say them, leading into fun little pauses. Also very cool! Then, in the line above in particular, they suddenly pick up the pace by letting off a series of rapid fire questions. Has to be cut off by Anna or they would have kept going. It does not feel like how Alfonse would question the situation at all— he’s usually very pointed and specific. This instead feels like the speed at which Kiran normally thinks. They’re pausing because they’re picking from the thirty questions their brain just asked.

Also!!! Look at that blunt ass hell “I’m sorry. I’m confused.” That’s two very modern sounding two-word sentences back to back. It’s absolutely not how Alfonse talks. No “my apologies” here their ass is confused!!!!

I don’t really got a point for this one folks, I just really like how fun Book 4 is on a reread. That’s my little guy officer! That’s the bastard that escalated FEH into a hyperfixation!!! Get them. Put them a container and give it a little shake.

[rei-ismyname]

Uncanny X-Men #6 From The Ashes

We're starting to see Raid on Graymalkin come together with each team having a member in custody, but first we get to know these kids a little better. Spoilers, naturally.

Yeah they're a mystery to us too.

Calico/Becca has been in pretty serious denial about being a mutant and is easily the least worldly of the four. Context clues told us she grew up wealthy, sheltered, and that her mother did a number on her. It's good to make that explicit but I think something is lost by doing it in third person flashback. This is information she doesn't know and considering what happens next it'd be more effective to have her tell her own story. The flashbacks feel jarring to me too, knocking me out of the present. Her having Ember kick Logan was pretty funny though.

And she's cured! 🙄

Calico has a breakthrough after a minute talking to Gambit, completely accepting her mutanthood. I think this would be the place to hear her speak - just a little back and forth instead of Gambit getting through instantly. She basically drops out of the story at this point, repeating that she's a mutant to anyone who'll listen. Yeah, she's been going on about goblins and her mother the entire time, and she was clearly in denial, but the sudden acceptance feels unearned.

We're not done with Harvey X, it seems. He's died at least once on page and said his powers would move on when he did. Does that mean he's not dead or was he just wrong? The thing with fakeouts is that the more you do it the less readers trust what you tell them. Logan brings up the old guy whose death bed he visited in issue #1 and shares the story behind the Tequila. He asks them to drink it with him and Rogue realises he's heartbroken. This feels unearned too, frankly. We'd never seen this army buddy before and while it's sad, there's so much trauma in all these people's very recent history. Krakoa, The School, Chuck, a genocidal war, Beast, hundreds of thousands of slaughtered mutants. The narrative doesn't really need new trauma when so much is already set up.

It sucks to lose an old friend, but the reader doesn't know the guy at all so it comes out of nowhere. A lot of page space was dedicated to the Sarah Gaunt/Chuck relationship and both aren't present in the story right now. Imagine if that space was spent on, say, Sarah/Logan instead. Very little needs to be changed and being blinded/nearly killed by his now monstrous ex would be a payoff that was setup.

I have complex PTSD myself and I would love to see it handled well in this book, but it's off to a weird start that centres Rogue more than Logan. He's in the middle of sharing his trauma and reaching out when she does this. It's really fucking odd, and I have an uncomfortable feeling it's not meant to be. I'll reserve judgement and see how this plays out.

Is the spit take because of what she said or because she's acting strange? You all have PTSD

Uhhm, what? Is this meant to be Harvey X's influence on Rogue? Her narration seems to suggest that, though she's still using her accent. I don't know, but it feels off. It's great to see the letters PTSD in an X-Men comic, because no shit Logan has PTSD. However, once you pathologise it instead of just referring to trauma, you need to pay that off. I'll believe that when I see it. Also, she just cut him off and told him. Logan says she's not qualified to diagnose that and he's right.

The kids are off to school! I think this is an interesting way to keep the education element of X-Men books separate from the mutant part, and naturally the kids run into bullies straight away. We're shown the other kids listening to Jitter though her confidence is attacked by jerks making fun of her stutter. Ransom has her back but Deathdream is really committed to the bit. This scene shows us what class dynamics are at play too. Showing and not telling might seem like faint praise, but I appreciate it when it's done elegantly. It's something this title has struggled with and I'm happy to see Simone lifting her game with the kids. That said, the bullies are extremely generic. Total cutouts that could be from 1950 or 2024. That's probably intentional but high school drama is a trope that's been beaten to death. If you're going to do it you want to do it well.

More bullying happens and Deathdream seems to take Ransom's words to heart, scaring the bullies with Eldritch horrors. Deathdream really doesn't seem bothered he's about to catch hands, but Ransom rolls his sleeves up and lays them out. I think the Olympics business was overegging the pudding, we can tell from his stance and form that he's trained in boxing. Or maybe this could have come up when they fought the X-Men. Everyone would notice an Olympics hopeful boxer. It could have been in Rogue's narration and wouldn't need to be vocalised as the skill is being used. Chekhov's Skill - it's narratively satisfying.

Unfortunately, while this is going down five heavily armoured dudes corner Calico and tase TF out of her. They call it in to Graymalkin and the Raid is set up. I wonder how they got into the school or knew they were here at all. Cerebro explains the latter. Why are they so obsessed with these kids anyway? Dr Ellis was concerned for their lives 2 issues ago and now she's encouraging brutality. Whatever, big ding for the Uncanny team's record of caring for children.

Kurt and Jubilee head to the store to do shopping and Kurt BAMFs away to save a little girl from being hit by a bus. For once he gets some gratitude, though while he's doing this Jubes is being cornered by Siryn, Blob and maybe Wild Child in full Hound mode. She gets snatched up too and Kurt returns to blood and mess everywhere. He calls Rogue and she tells him to get back quickly. The ending leads straight into 2 issues of Raid on Graymalkin (with 2 over in X-Men) and both teams have their motivation. I'm not looking forward to the contrived conflict but maybe we'll get some answers. We saw Siryn and Blob being tortured in earlier issues, but I'm surprised they're here unsupervised. Perhaps those collars are responsible.

Pound for pound I'd say this is the best issue of Uncanny yet. It had some super odd moments but most of them were relics of the first arc. I do wish we got more time to know all the characters, especially the Outliers, before moving into a mini crossover but this is what we have. Still skippable but seems to be getting better. I'm interested to see how the PTSD thing plays out though my expectations are low. I know that sounds quite negative for what was an improvement, but the first arc left a bad taste in my mouth and trust is earned. Also there's NINE main characters which is really not especially sustainable in a book like this. There's just not enough space, and you end up in situations like heading into an event without a solid grasp of where most of the cast is at.

Don't stand behind a horse, Logan. Lucky you have a healing factor.

[atlasrayz]

Ok hi time to rant abt hazbin/helluva because i will forever be upset about the outcome of those shows.

Indie animation has been on a rise lately, with so many different amazing shows being available on youtube.

I watched the hazbin hotel pilot around the time it came out, and it really interested me. The characters seemed interesting and the premise wasnt really something you see often. I was excited.

I kept up with Viv's work and got into helluva boss. I thought it had some good jokes and the bits of lore we got made me want to keep watching. However, the premise of literally every episode is the same. A bad ex or a bad dad. Its a formula, and it shows up in Hazbin too.

Viv has some obsession with daddy issues, and problems with characterising her women characters. Charlie is the *main character* of Hazbin Hotel, but she has literally no growth or development. Millie also falls victim to this.

The one episode where she actually gets some attention feels... wrong? It felt like they were mischaracterising Moxxie so that they can fabricate conflict between Moxxie and Millie. Moxxie loves his wife, and he has literally never once been shown or implied that he would try to upstage her. Yeah, he's definitely got some inferiority going on, hes constantly being belittled by Blitz. Hes the show's punching bag, but i feel like it had never been implied that he hated himself more than he loved his wife. I hate that episode with a burning passion because how tf are you going to mischaracterise your own fucking characters.

I hate the way they did Lucifer. He should NOT have been some wacky, silly guy who just doesnt know how to reach out to his daughter. He's not bad! He's just anxious UwU. His entire character is irritating. Having a wacky fun character is fine, i love characters like that, but Lucifer shouldn't have been that character.

In the pilot, it was implied that Lucifer hangs over Charlie and his influence puts a lot of pressure on her, but then we meet him and hes just. A guy. Who doesnt talk to his daughter a lot. Which makes absolutely no sense. You could argue that they retconned a lot from the pilot, which, yeah, its all new voice actors so, sure. But then, why wouldnt they remake it in some way, in any way?

Not to mention that all the characters feel flat. Even in Helluva. In Helluva we get filler and backstory, but even then the characters dont change or grow. Quite literally the only good thing out of Helluva is Fizz. His arc and story is the only one that actually breaks from the formula of bad ex bad dad and his character actually changes from the lessons in the episode. I love Fizz for pretty much that reason alone.

Moxxie and Biltz have an episode where they promise to be nicer to eachother *and then they fucking don't?* They stay the *exact same* towards each other. If you're going to do that, then don't make a story based show. Make one of those slice of life, 10 minute episodes combined into one 20 minute episode that shows no growth, and is just there to be fun. Those shows arent bad, they just have a different purpose.

I've been so upset with the results of Hazbin Hotel. The pacing is awful, the characters have no time to change or grow, and their dynamics just arent interesting. It sucks because I saw a world where this indie show got on amazon prime (!!) And was amazing and did amazing things and set the stage for other indie shows to finally get big and then all we got was poorly written, rushed slop that feels like a huge kick in the teeth to anyone who cared about the show. Or, at least, it did to me.

[4ranghaes]

heyy can i request bsf since diaper! myung jaehyun and fem! reader which they're finally meet each other after a long time and decided to hit the club then some guy try to talk or flirt with her and suddenly jaehyun become so protactive as if she's a child but obvi jaehyun got a crush on her (spoiler: he always stalk her social media and thats how he got his crush on her although its been awhile since they met) idk the thought of unserious jaehyun become protactive is cute tho hehehe. anw thank you in advance!! love ur writing sm!!

myung jaehyun x reader [fluff, fem!reader, jealous!bsf!myungjae]

a/n - hiya anonnie, of course!!!! i hope you enjoy💓💓

00:24 - “for old times’ sake?”

jaehyun rolled his eyes, getting up off the sofa, your relentless begging having worn him down, “fine, fine. there’s a club a couple streets down from here. i’ve been with the boys a couple times, it’s good.”

“yes! jaehyun thank you! thank you thank you thank you!” you cheered, jumping up and down, kissing your friend on the cheek before running to his bedroom to check your appearance.

riwoo gave him a knowing look, jaehyun just rolling his eyes as he shrugged him off. “stop looking at me like that.”

riwoo held in a laugh, shrugging, “just thinking about how you almost bit sungho’s head off when he complemented her earlier. hope you enjoy the club!”

the boy shook his head, watching you emerge from his bedroom in a totally new outfit; short skirt, small top, and one of jaehyun’s mesh overshirts hanging over top. he swallowed, his mouth hanging open.

“is this okay?” you asked, posing in the doorway.

jaehyun just nodded quickly as you cheered, “come on, let’s go then! it’ll be too expensive past 1am.”

“o-okay,” he stuttered, gathering his keys and shoving his essentials in his pockets, waving goodbye to riwoo.

“i mean don’t you think it’s fun? the last time we saw each other we were still bathing together, and now we’re clubbing!”

myungjae chuckled, “yeah our mums would be so proud.”

you laughed, walking close to him the whole way to the club, your arms touching as the alcohol you’d steadily had throughout the night seemed to hit you. the two of you had been planning this meet up for months, and finally you’d arrived in yongsan last night, the dorm door being flung open to jaehyun’s wide smile - the same one you recognised from all those years ago.

jaehyun watched now as you, a grown woman, stood ahead of him in line for the club. he’d always had a crush on you, even when he was 5 and you were 4, running round the back garden naked together, bathing together, walking to school together - he’d liked you. he’d kept up with you online of course, even over the years of various moves separating the two of you, he watched from a distance as you grew and matured. his heart fluttered opening the door for you yesterday - he didn’t want to admit it, but he still liked you now.

“okay, drinks, or dance floor?” you shouted, mouth next to his ear as the two of you entered the club, surveying the scene.

“why don’t you get a table and i’ll get some drinks?” jaehyun offered, holding your hair back with a gentle hand as he did the same to you, “i’m not drunk enough yet!”

you giggled, nodding as you found an empty table, guarding your territory. jaehyun tried to be quick with the drinks, glancing back over to you several times to check you were safe.

“two jack cokes please,” he ordered, leaning against the bar as he quickly looked back to where you were. now with a man? he strained his neck, squinted his eyes, trying to get a better look. he could feel his anger rising.

“here you are,” the bartender said, snapping him out of his daze as he handed over two cups. jaehyun took them quickly, rushing over to where you were.

slamming them down on the table, he looked up at you expectantly.

“oh myungjae!” you exclaimed, “this is jinyoung.”

“you two know each other?” he asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“no,” jinyoung shrugged, looking at jaehyun with competition in his eyes. jaehyun narrowed his eyes at him. jinyoung pointed to the drinks as you took your cup. “didn’t get me one, mate?”

“well, we actually just came out the two of us so…”

“oh i can get you one!” you smiled, jumping up from the seat before jaehyun shoved your body back down.

“he can get it himself, y/n,” jaehyun said, not taking his eyes off jinyoung.

“yeah, don’t worry darling,” he spoke, smiling at you, “i’ll buy your one too, hey?”

jaehyun was mouthing curses after the man as he sauntered over to the bar.

“what are you doing?!” jaehyun exclaimed, grabbing your arm.

“what? he’s nice!”

“you don’t know him!” jaehyun yelled, looking at you exasperated, “you’re not taking that drink either.”

you rolled your eyes, brushing him off and walking to the dance floor. you looked back to jaehyun, still stood against the table, tilting your head in invitation as you started to dance. jaehyun stood watching for a while, fighting a smile on his face as he watched your body move. eventually, he downed his drink, making his way over to you. a smile spread across your face when he reached you, jaehyun’s hand moving to your hip as they moved with the music. jealousy was never a good emotion, except maybe when he needed to make a move.

“you’re gorgeous,” he spoke, not taking his eyes off you. you read his lips, barely able to hear him over the blaring music. you stopped for a moment, before looping your arms round his neck.

“you’re not too bad yourself, myung,” you laughed.

jaehyun broke into a smile, “really?”

you nodded, “really.”

he eyed you cautiously before beginning to move in. he was slow and steady, before realising you were also moving towards him; he smashed his lips to yours, letting out a disbelieving laugh into the kiss. you smiled into his lips, body still moving to the song.

jaehyun pulled away, grinning like an idiot as he started to dance with you. you laughed, grabbing his face to pull him again, starting to make out with him.

“you’re not just drunk right?!” he exclaimed, pulling away suddenly.

“barely drank at all,” you yelled back, dragging a hand through his hair.

you saw jinyoung making his way through the crowd towards you with a smile as you rolled your eyes; you only interacted with him to make jaehyun jealous in the first place.

“kiss me again!”

“huh?!”

“again, jaehyun!”

[i-will-cry-you-a-river]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

It was weird to be home. Thankfully, neither his parents - who were kinda absent, so he never really thought it would be a possibility -, not his siblings - in all honesty, Shen Yuan had been prepared for his kidnapping and atticsiblinging - insisted that Shen Yuan had to move out of his home. His siblings fretted, for sure, and he could see that his meimei and da-ge had to keep back er-ge from saying something, but it was okay. Shen Yuan even agreed to the “nanny” his siblings paid for to make sure he survived living alone. It didn't matter; he could continue to live alone! That was one hell of a relief.

Still, it was weird to be home. He kinda got used to the comings and goings of the nurses, the smell of disinfectant, the low murmurs of life outside of his room. And his meetings with Hospital Guy, but he was not thinking about Hospital Guy. Hospital Guy who?

The point was, he was kinda… just maybe a tiny bit… lonely. After his siblings went home, he felt relieved, but after a few hours of complete silence, it became…

Overwhelming. Lonely. 

His thoughts were too loud. 

Sighing, he switched on his phone. A message awaited him; he didn't notice it even after his siblings left. He just didn't have enough energy to look at his phone.

Fall: Do you ever feel like no matter what you do, it's always wrong?

Shen Yuan blinked at the screen, caught off guard by the question. He frowned; the message had been sent six hours ago. Shit.

Hoping Fall didn't resent him for not responding, or think Shen Yuan was deliberately avoiding him, he wrote, “Yes, but I think everyone feels like that. Every choice you make has negative and positive sides - so you just have to concentrate on why it was right to do the thing you did.”

He thought about it for a second, then added, trying to lighten the mood:

Shizun: Except if you wrote a 1000-chapter-long porn with no redeeming qualities, no plot, no world-building, no great characters, nothing. Then, I have to confess, my friend, there's no save for you. But see? There's no such thing as “everything you do is wrong”. Even Airplane has done something right!

There was a long pause, and Shen Yuan was left wondering if he'd said the wrong thing. He should have looked at his phone sooner. He should have been more compassionate. Maybe he shouldn't have sent the last message. Maybe-

Fall: Yeah… ig your ribht. Its just hard to shake sometimes…

“Oh, shit,” Shen Yuan swore. His friend never was as grammatically correct in their messages, as he had been, but this? This was a cry for help.

His fingers were hovering over the screen, but his mind was empty. He wasn't sure how to comfort somebody, especially through text, especially someone he'd never met in real life. But Fall was his friend. He was there for him, and Shen Yuan wanted to be there for his friend too.

Shizun: For what it's worth, I don't think everything you do is wrong. You are a great friend. You are supportive and fun, and so easy to talk to! I don't know what you are going through right now, but you have me, if you want to talk about it. And you have me if you don't. 

A few seconds that seemed like .minutes passed before Fall's next message came through.

Fall: Thanks. It means a lot

It wasn't much, but… it was something. Shen Yuan hoped he was helping. And if their messages took on a slightly different tone from there on, it was met with relief. They were still joking around, ranting about things, talking about fanfiction and PIDW - but they were talking about other things as well. Not just surface level things; about their deeper emotions and thoughts as well.

It was great.

Shen Yuan still thought about Hospital Guy from time to time, wishing they could have a similar relationship like the one he had with Fall, but… it was okay. He had Fall.

And strangely, Airplane.

The banters between Peerless Cucumber and Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky have always been something like a spectacle for other readers, but ever since Airplane actively responded to his comments, instead of just passively adding things to his chapters just for shits and giggles, it became something entirely different. Other readers would watch their back-and-forth with amusement, and more often than not, their interactions would turn into petty insults, while the other readers egged them on.

Peerless Cucumber: Another chapter, another “surprising” plot twist. I never would have guessed the protagonist would survive this near-death experience. Nor that he would fall from the cliff, straight into the bed of a demoness. What a creative genius you are…

 Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: It’s called dramatic tension. Not that you’d know anything about it, even if it bit you in your ass!

Peerless Cucumber: Sure, if by "dramatic tension" you mean rehashing the same tropes over and over again. Ever thought about trying something new? Or are we just going to keep watching Luo Binghe fall to his doom and survive everything by fucking more and more uninteresiting maidens until the end of time?

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: Look, maybe if you wrote something instead of whining, you'd understand. Oh, wait - I'm sorry, do you actually write? Or do you just complain? Or you could just leave PIDW to people who can appreciate it, and just read anything else

Shen Yuan’s fingers froze over his keyboard. Was Airplane... goading him? Was he really upset by his comments, or was it just to stir shit? Was he really-

Shen Yuan didn’t know what possessed him at that moment, but he typed something out before he could stop himself.

Peerless Cucumber: Maybe I do write. And maybe it’s better than the endless trainwreck you’re passing off as a novel. Maybe one of my chapters has more emotions and sense than all of your chapters all together!

There. That should give him some satisfaction. If Airplane wanted to humiliate him for not being a writer, he has another thing coming!

But, strangely, when Airplane didn’t respond right away, Shen Yuan felt an odd twinge of... regret? Maybe he went a bit too far? He shook his head. No way. He wasn’t going to feel bad for Airplane, of all people. Airplane was the one constantly dishing out subpar writing. It was Airplane who baited him with his little digs in his chapters and notes and his replies!

Still, the silence stretched on longer than usual, and Shen Yuan started to wonder if maybe - just maybe - he’d gone too far this time.

It was a shitty feeling.

Almost as shitty as being ignored by Hospital Guy.

-*-*-*-

When Airplane did reply, it was short and almost... despondent. It is hard to really know how somebody was feeling through text but… Yeah. Airplane was clearly Not Okay.

Fuck.

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: Well, if your writing is so much better, maybe you should just stick to that. Or maybe you should stick to reading fanfic. I heard there's one that's “way better than PIDW could ever dream of”. Probably less painful for both of us.

Shen Yuan blinked at his phone. That was... not the kind of response he was expecting. For the first time since their banter had started, Airplane didn’t sound defensive or snarky; he just sounded tired.

Tired and so fucking sad.

That was not what Shen Yuan wanted. He knew he was an asshole. But not this much of an asshole! He actually liked PIDW and Airplane! That's why he was so frustrated all the time! He wanted the story to be better! To be as good as he knew it could be!

But it seems his complaints were seen as…

Bullying.

He was a bully.

Fuck.

Peerless Cucumber: Hey, calm down. Just because I critique your work doesn’t mean I hate everything about it. I mean, I did read over 600 chapters, right? You’re clearly doing something right. You have to know you are doing something right.

There was no immediate reply, and Shen Yuan stared at his phone, wondering if Airplane had ever been doxxed before and if yes, where he could find his address. He needed to shake some sense into this idiotic author!

For all its flaws, PIDW had its moments, and it was those moments that had kept him reading despite his frustrations. The story itself wasn't a masterpiece, that's for sure, but Airplane was a creative genius and it was a shame he didn't realize how much potential he had. Besides, even if Airplane’s writing could be infuriating, it took a certain level of dedication to write a story that long.

Shen Yuan typed another message.

Peerless Cucumber: Listen, some fanfics might be better at some things, like world-building or avoiding the... uh... gratuitous papapa scenes. But at the end of the day, they are still just fanfics. Your story is the foundation. Without PIDW, they wouldn’t exist at all! My - and others' - writing wouldn't exist if it wasn't for you!

This time, the silence dragged on for so long that Shen Yuan began to wonder if Airplane had just decided to ghost him entirely. A strange pang of disappointment bloomed in his chest. Maybe he’d pushed too hard after all. Maybe-

But then, Airplane finally replied.

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: ...Thanks.

That was it. Just one word. But somehow, it felt like the heaviest response Shen Yuan had ever received from him.

-*-*-*-

Shen Yuan didn’t usually get caught up in his feelings, or at least, he tried to pretend he didn’t. He had a system for dealing with the world: sarcasm, avoidance, and pretending that everything rolled off his back. It was a good, working system. It didn't break when he finally accepted that he would never be his parent's perfect (nor the preferred) child. It worked when his first (and last) interned boyfriend broke up with him for being Too Much. It was a perfect system when he dropped out of college, when he realized no company would ever hire him because of his health issues.

But sometimes, it all caught up to him. Like tonight.

The hospital had been exhausting. Not physically, but mentally. Ever since he’d been discharged, he couldn’t shake this strange heaviness that had settled in his chest. Maybe it was the way things had ended with the guy in the other room - the one he’d developed a little crush on. Shen Yuan had tried so hard to be there for him, to make sure he had everything he needed while he recovered. But in the end, the guy didn’t seem to care. He never asked Shen Yuan to visit, didn’t seem to notice all the little things Shen Yuan did to help him out. And when Shen Yuan said goodbye, all he was left with was rejection.

The previous days were exhausting; his fretting siblings, moving back to his apartment, getting used to being alone again, Fall’s bad mood… all of those were emotionally taxing.

And then there was Airplane.

The snarky banter between them had been fun, sure, but when Shen Yuan had complimented PIDW - genuinely, for once - Airplane had gone silent. Completely ghosted him.

At first, Shen Yuan had brushed it off. It was Airplane, after all. He could be moody, and maybe he just didn’t know how to handle praise. But the longer Airplane stayed quiet, the more Shen Yuan started to feel like maybe he was the problem. Maybe he’d gone too far, even when he’d been trying to be nice for once. Maybe everyone found him too much.

Staring at the ceiling of his apartment, the weight of it all felt unbearable. The hospital guy, Airplane..

Even Fall failed to message him much today. It was like everyone in his life was drifting away, and Shen Yuan couldn’t figure out why.

He grabbed his phone, his heart pounding, and opened his chat with Fallingfromsky1. It wasn’t like him to vent like this, but he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Maybe he really was Too Much. Bothering somebody with his emotions… he really was greedy, wasn't he?

Shizun: You ever feel like… no matter what you do, it’s never enough? Or like you’re just too much for people? Like… everyone eventually gets tired of you?

He hit send before he could second-guess himself, immediately regretting it. This wasn’t the kind of thing he usually talked about, especially not with someone he hadn’t even met in person. But the words were out there now, and all he could do was wait for Fall’s response.

He watched the three little dots appear on the screen, then disappear.

Then reappear.

Then disappear again.

He guessed, he had his answer. He didn't really know what exactly he was expecting. Comfort? Reassurance? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he felt hollow inside, like he was sinking. 

Several minutes passed before Fall finally responded. It was one question:   "Are you okay?"

Shen Yuan stared at the message. He didn’t even know how to answer that. Was he okay? No, not really. But that felt like too much to dump on someone, even if they were friends, even if Fall had always been kind and understanding.

But Shen Yuan was too far gone to hold back now. The dam had broken.

Shizun: I don’t know. It’s just… things keep happening, and it feels like I can’t do anything right. I tried helping someone in the hospital, you know? There was this guy I met, and I thought we were becoming friends. I even… I don’t know, I liked him. He was awkward and didn't really talk to me, but I thought he appreciated my ramblings. But maybe he didn't react to most of the things because I didn’t even exist to him. When I was discharged, he didn’t even care. Didn’t even ask me to visit. I just feel like… like I was too much, or not enough. And then Airplane… I tried to compliment his writing for once, and now he’s completely disappeared. Just… nothing. I guess I complained too much that now he doesn't even believe me when I'm not berating him for once. I think I messed up again.

Shen Yuan closed his eyes after sending the message, feeling sick and embarrassed. Why had he sent all that? He’d just dumped a whole mess of insecurities onto someone he didn’t even know in real life. 

He really was too much.

There was a long stretch of silence after that, and Shen Yuan’s heart began to sink. He stared at his phone, wondering if he’d just ruined things with Fall too. Maybe he’d pushed too hard, said too much. He always did that, didn’t he? Overthought everything, expected too much from people, and then got hurt when they pulled away.

But just when he was about to put his phone down, the screen lit up with a new message.

Fall: Shizun. I don’t think you’re too much. You’re kind. You care about people, and that’s never too much. Maybe the hospital guy didn’t realize what you meant by all the things you did, and that’s on him. But that doesn’t mean you did anything wrong. And Airplane… well, maybe he’s just not great at dealing with compliments. Some people aren’t. But I know it’s not because of you.

Shen Yuan read the message over and over again, his eyes stinging for reasons he would deny to his death. He was not crying, okay?!

The words were so simple, but they hit him harder than anything else had in a long time. He wasn’t used to people being kind to him, especially when he felt so… raw.

Shizun: Thanks. I’m just… tired, I guess.

There was another pause, and then Fall’s next message lit up his phone. It wasn’t what Shen Yuan expected.

Fall: Can we meet?

[lilwoofs]

I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I think what saddens me the most is that shadow doesn’t really seem to like adventuring. Sonic and shadow are similar in that they both go fast and go on a lot of the same adventures, and even though adventures just like, happen to sonic he kinda starts them, or at least seems to enjoy them after all “what you see is what you get, just a guy who loves adventure”. He didn’t choose to have chaos unleashed, turn into a werewolf or have eggman make a war, and I’m sure there’s moments (like metal virus and frontiers) where he’d rather that all not have happened, but overall he seems to have fun doing all of this stuff, it’s his hobby, even in the twitter takeovers most of the time when a question about what they is asked he basically just says running and adventuring.

Meanwhile shadow just kinda has that stuff happen to him, his memories are altered and someone wants him to destroy the world, he has amnesia (also metal sonic is mad and making it everyone’s problem), he has amnesia (also someone’s trying to make him destroy the world again), and whatever was going on in 06. He never seemed to relish in the adventure like sonic did, he only really seemed to fight when he had too. (Okay in some games he seemed like he wanted to kill sonic??? (og generations) or just fight sonic for little reason (not to mention what happened to infinite) but it feels like they’re kinda fixing that and it’s pretty out of character for him). For sonic danger is a challenge, it’s fun. For shadow it’s just something happening to him, yeah he might get a little smug about it, but “if the world chooses to become my enemy I will fight like I always have” shadow wouldn’t be fighting if he didn’t have someone trying to make him destroy the world every two seconds-

It would also make sense shadow doesn’t seem to enjoy danger like sonic does, he knows what its likes being attacked and it going wrong (Maria’s death). And to contrast sonic in the twitter takeovers whenever he’s asked about hobbies he says he wants to start a cat orphanage, or that he reads books and plays chess, volunteers at soup kitchens, taking care of his bike, also won’t shut up about flowers. All pretty low stakes things! (He even mentions multiple times in the newest twitter takeovers that he doesn’t fight for fun, only when needed. Now that could just be him not wanting to admit he’s having fun with sonic, because there is a lot of moments we’re he fights with sonic for no reason other then fun, but there’s still probably some truth in there. Who knows maybe we just think that because we always see it from Sonic’s side, and since sonic likes it we assume shadow does too ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ) And talking to Maria in sh generations it makes so much sense! She seems frightened at the concept of shadow attacking black doom, she’s not scared to talk back to him when he’s being rude to shadow, but she seems surprised that it’s happening, surprised that shadow is so “bold and confident” when shadow fights. Yeah she told him to protect everyone on earth but I don’t think she had shadow stopping earth ending situations in mind. They play chess and go to school, when Maria talks of going back to earth she mentions having food and meeting her family. That was their plan. She didn’t think shadow would have to stop gods and war, she thought he was going to met friends and eat good food! And just help out in small ways when he can.

Going back to Maria’s death we know shadow was powerful at that time, not as much as he is now, but he was frozen for those 50 years (no time to train) which means he was just as strong then as he was in sonic adventure 2 (makes sense he’s the ultimate lifeform). If shadow was back there he would’ve fought the G.U.N agents, but taking in the Maria dialog (“bold and  confident”) and how their life was on the ark he wasn’t used to fighting. If nothing happened to shadow he probably wouldn’t be fighting.

TLDR: where’s my sonic game that’s about shadow owning a cat orphanage and reading books sega?

[httpvomitello]

I GOT AN IDEA :D

Ok so, reader is 2012 April's best friend but reader is male so the turtles think they are dating.

After donnie gets jelous one day after april brags about what reader made for her (also thinking wielder reader, like working with metal so thinking jewelry and or small weapons , the turtles and casey ask if they are dating when april let's it slip that reader is gay.

Maybe there could be a think where reader gains a crush on one of the turtles and starts making small things for them like rings that fit their hands, bracelets, small pocket knives hes made just for them, ext, I think it would be pretty neat

You don't have to do this ask of course, your writing is so much fun to ready, I always have a blast reading your work :D

Hello, hello! Thank you for enjoying reading what I write, it makes me very happy! Although requests are CLOSED at the moment, reading your request made me want to write about it, so... Yeah, I did. But guys, please read the rules, so you know when it's okay to ask! Anyway, I hope you like it ~ ♡♡♡♡

Do you want to go out with me? *⁠.⁠✧

It was a normal evening in the lair when the conversation turned toward April. It wasn’t unusual—she was a frequent topic of discussion, especially for Donnie—but this time, it wasn’t her escapades with school or her time spent with the Turtles that got them talking. It was you.

You, April’s best friend, had recently made her a stunning bracelet, one of your many custom metalwork creations. She’d shown it off with pride during one of her visits to the lair, gushing about how thoughtful and talented you were.

“You should’ve seen it, guys,” she said, holding out her wrist for the hundredth time. “Y/N made it by hand! He even personalized it with little engravings—look, it has my initials!”

Donnie’s mood visibly soured as April raved about your talent and kindness. He crossed his arms, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Sounds like you two are pretty close,” he muttered, trying (and failing) to sound indifferent.

“Of course we are! Y/N’s been my best friend for years,” April replied.

Raph smirked, leaning back against the wall. “Yeah, but is he just your best friend? 'Cause it sounds like Donnie here’s thinkin’ otherwise.”

“Shut up, Raph,” Donnie snapped, his face flushing a deep shade of red.

April blinked, then let out a loud laugh. “Oh my gosh, you guys think Y/N and I are dating?”

“Well, yeah,” Mikey said, popping a slice of pizza into his mouth. “I mean, you’re always talking about him, and he makes you stuff. Kinda sounds like boyfriend material to me.”

Casey chimed in with a snort. “Can’t blame the guy if he’s into you. You’re a catch, Red.”

April waved her hands frantically. “No, no, no! You’ve got it all wrong! Y/N’s gay!”

The room fell silent.

“Oh,” Mikey said, pizza halfway to his mouth. “Well, that explains a lot.”

Donnie’s eyes widened as he processed the information, a mix of relief and embarrassment washing over him. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah,” April confirmed, laughing. “I can’t believe you guys thought we were dating. He’s like my brother.”

From that moment, the tension eased… or so it seemed. Donnie couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for assuming the worst about you. When you visited the lair a few days later, he kept his distance at first, unsure how to act around you now that he knew the truth.

But you? You were completely unfazed.

“Hey, Donatello,” you greeted with a warm smile as you approached him. “April’s told me all about your tech skills. Pretty impressive stuff.”

Donnie blinked, caught off guard by your casual friendliness. “Uh, thanks,” he replied, fiddling with the edge of his staff.

“You know,” you continued, “I’ve been thinking about making something for you guys. April says you’re always busy saving the city, so I figured you could use a little appreciation.”

Donnie’s face flushed slightly. “That’s... really thoughtful of you.”

True to your word, you started crafting small gifts for each of the Turtles. It started with practical things—like a custom pocket knife for Raph and a set of throwing stars for Mikey—but over time, your gifts became more personal.

For Donnie, you made a sleek metal bracelet with subtle engravings of his favorite equations. He stared at it for a long time when you gave it to him, tracing the intricate designs with his fingers.

“This is... incredible,” he said softly.

You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “It’s nothing, really. Just thought it might be your style.”

Donnie looked up at you, his heart skipping a beat. “It’s perfect.”

It wasn’t long before the others started picking up on your growing interest in Donnie. You spent more time in his lab, asking questions about his inventions and offering to help where you could. You even started bringing him snacks when he got too absorbed in his work to eat.

Mikey was the first to notice.

“Dude,” he whispered one night when you’d stepped out of the lab. “Y/N totally likes you.”

Donnie nearly dropped the tool he was holding. “What? That’s ridiculous.”

“C’mon, it’s so obvious!” Mikey insisted. “He’s always hanging around you, making you stuff, bringing you food. That’s love language if I’ve ever seen it.”

Donnie tried to brush it off, but the more he thought about it, the more Mikey’s words made sense.

One evening, as you were finishing up a new project in your workshop—a custom screwdriver set for Donnie. You found yourself wondering if Donnie notice the little things you did for him? Did he even like you back?

You decided to take a chance.

The next time you visited the lair, you handed Donnie the screwdriver set with a shy smile. “I made this for you,” you said, your voice quieter than usual.

Donnie took the set, his eyes widening as he examined each piece. “You made this?”

“Yeah,” you replied, rubbing the back of your neck nervously. “I figured it might come in handy for your lab stuff.”

Donnie looked up at you, a soft smile spreading across his face. “Y/N, this is... amazing. Thank you.”

You hesitated, then decided to just go for it. “Donnie, can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” he said, setting the tools aside.

You took a deep breath. “Do you... I mean, would you want to go out sometime? Like, just the two of us?”

Donnie’s eyes widened, and for a moment, you thought you’d completely misread the situation. But then he smiled—soft and genuine—and nodded.

“I’d like that,” he said.

Your heart swelled with relief and excitement as you returned his smile.