#her earrings are stupid complicated they make me want to cry

[thehighladywrites]

— “I’m just a girl!”

☀︎ — pairing: nerd/tutor azriel x bimbo/ditzy reader

☀︎ — summary: you tell azriel you don’t know what taxes are, and that you haven’t filed them ever

☀︎ — warnings: fluff, dramatic reader, azriel being sweet and educational

☀︎ — amara’s note: man i wish i was her rn💔 also this is so fucking real bc what on earth are taxes???

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“Baby, please, you have got to grasp the gravity of this situation. Not filing your taxes is no joke. You could end up behind bars for tax evasion! There was a whole mandatory course last semester, didn’t you take it?” Azriel's tone is firm, his concern painted all over his face as he stands infront of you.

When you revealed that you didn't know what taxes were or how to "file" them, Azriel got worried sick, emphasizing the importance of understanding basic responsibilities like this.

He brought you into the living room, seated you on the sofa, and stood in front of you, carefully explaining step by step why not filing taxes was illegal and how to fix the situation. However, no matter how hard you try, you can't focus on his words, your attention completely consumed by his built muscles. Your mind goes blank as you find yourself daydreaming about him taking off his shirt.

Azriel knows you’re not focusing on his words, he knows you’re ogling his body, and even though he gets warm and loves it, he needs you to focus on the topic, at least for a few minutes.

“Are you paying attention, baby?”

You honestly don’t get it at all. Like, if they take tax from you when you’re shopping, shouldn’t they already know how much you owe or whatever? And who even are the IRS? Can’t you just live your life without all this complicated stuff? Why does Azriel have to make everything so...ugh, what's the word? Complicated?

“Oh my god, Azzie! Stop it, I don’t wanna do this and I don’t understand anything. Please, I’m just a girl!” you exclaim dramatically pulling your knees to your chest as you hide your face in your hands, tears prickling in your eyes. You’re feeling completely overwhelmed by the situation and the sheer thought of dealing with stupid taxes.

Azriel sighs deeply, his brows furrowing as he takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. If he doesn’t have a gray hair by the end of the week, he’ll consider it a win. As much as he wants you to understand what is wrong with basically committing a crime, he doesn’t want you crying, he feels sick to his stomach seeing you so sad but he just has to fucking ask.

“You’re—You're just a girl— sweetheart, what does that even mean?” he asks gently, completely flabbergasted by your statement.

You fold your arms over your chest, chin held high as you say, “Ya heard me, m’just a girl. And that means i should not be doing any of this, i should be living my best life instead of thinking about whatever taxes are.”

Azriel just looks at you with raised eyebrows, man you’re stressing him the fuck out. Luckily he caught your illegal activities early otherwise you would have gone to prison for sure. Even though he thinks it was ridiculous for a person to have never done their taxes ever, he doesn’t hold you against it. He just slumps his shoulders, taking a breather. Azriel can never be mad at you, never at his sweet angel. Especially not when you look so upset, big sparkly eyes looking at him with worry.

It’s in that moment. That tiny moment, he decides to never confront you with your mistakes. Sure you almost went to jail, but Azriel is here now. He is intelligent enough to think about the more serious issues for the both of you. And he will for the rest of his life, not because he has to, but because he wants to. He wants to take care of you.

“You’re right, my love, you shouldn’t worry about this. I’ll take care of it,” Azriel assures you, his tone gentle as he tucks a strand behind your ear.

You look up at him, eyes shiny with unshed tears as your face lights up before you stand up and jump into his arms, showering his face with kisses, your excitement bubbling over.

“Awe, you're the best baby, I love you so, so, soooo much!” you exclaimed, your words flowing freely in your ditzy excitement.

He laughs shyly, still getting nervous when you show him affection. “I love you too, beautiful.”

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[epomanias]

wait, they don't love you like i love you — t.duncan

summary: after ten years of friendship, tashi still hasn't realized that you'd treat her better than any man could

contains: fluffy drabble, wlw relationship, tashi getting the love she deserves<3, artrick shade (i still love them i swear)

“It’s just- Fuck, they piss me off more than you could imagine. It’s always some new bullshit, I’m sick of it.” Tashi swears, throwing herself down next to where you’ve perched yourself on her bed. She was angry about something Art and Patrick had done, as per usual. They’d all been fighting a lot more lately—something about tennis, of course. You tried to pay attention to her rants, but there was only one thing you could take out of them; they didn’t deserve her. Never did, never will.

“You don’t have to be with them, you-”

“Obviously I fucking know that.” She interjects, scowling. “It’s not being with them, I mean— I’m happy most of the time, I guess. It’s just once they start— I don’t know. It’s complicated. Tashi rubs a hand across her face in annoyance, sighing at her own words. Seeing her like this, seeing her with them makes your heart ache. It always hurt watching her skip from guy to guy, telling you stories about how great they were to her until suddenly they weren’t. Art and Patrick were no different, despite them clearly thinking they were.

“You deserve better. You know that, right? You should know that.” You murmur, hand instinctively falling to rest on her knee. “These guys, they never do enough for you. You deserve someone who would burn the world for you.” Tashi scoffs, rolling her eyes dramatically.

“Yeah, like who?”

Your grip on her knee tightens. You stay silent, watching her with wide eyes, praying that for once she’d see what's right in front of her—you. Tashi glances at you, breath hitching. The yearning, the desperation on your face, it’s obvious what you’re trying to tell her. 

“Do I have to say it?” You whisper, instinctively leaning closer. Tashi follows your lead, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear—her hand falling to cup your jaw.

“Can I-”

“Please.” You interject, longing seeping into your tone. She doesn’t waste time, she never does, locking her soft lips with yours. It’s like poetry, your hands running through her hair, Tashi’s reaching your hips, pulling you onto her—every movement you make says something, every action is a conversation. You feel her, truly feel her, her yearning, her hurt, everything she’s ever hidden from you. When her tongue breaches your mouth, you practically melt. Everything you’ve ever wanted, you had in your arms. When you finally have to break apart for air, your hands fall to her sides—gripping her tightly as if she’d disappear if you’d let go.

“How long…” Tashi trails off, tracing shapes across your skin.

“Since we were twelve. Well, probably longer, but that’s when I realized.” You carefully watch her face, clinging to any movement that may show discomfort, but there is none. Her eyes are soft, softer than you’ve ever seen them, and for once in your life you feel seen.

“Are you…?”

“Yes.” Tashi doesn’t hesitate. “I was just scared to say anything.”

“Me too.” You smile softly, reaching to press your lips against hers again, but hesitating. 

“Art and Patrick?” She scoffs, shaking her head quickly. “They don’t matter. They never did, none of them. I’ll break it off tonight if you want me to.” You nod, unable to find the words to express how much you feel for her in that moment. She understands, though. She always has. Your eyes water slightly as you take in the situation—she loves you. Tashi Duncan actually loves you.

“Hey- no, don’t cry. Was it something I said?” Tashi rushes to wipe your eyes, nerves clear on her face.

“No, no, I’m just being stupid. Sorry.” You laugh breathily and push her hand away, grinning like an idiot. “I love you.”

She shakes her head, giggling back at you. “I love you too. Forever and always.”

“Forever and always.”

© epomanias.tumblr 2024. all rights reserved

[gaeforwom3n]

People can hurt...

Words: 675

Summary: Tara comfort her childhood friend from a break up..

Warnings: bad writing, the use of y/n, Tara may or may not have feelings for reader, i think that's all

Tara and Y/n had been best friends since middle school. They met in homeroom on the first day of seventh grade, and from that moment on, they were inseparable. They sat next to each other in every class, shared lunches, and even went to each other's houses after school.

Y/n was always drawn to Tara's confident demeanor and laid-back attitude. She admired how Tara never seemed to care what other people thought of her, and she found herself wanting to be just like her. On the other hand, Tara loved Y/n's kindness and empathy. She knew that Y/n would always be there for her, no matter what.

Now they’re in college and y/n is in tears in Tara's arms, explaining how exhausted she felt in her relationship with her ex-girlfriend, Tara could see the pain etched onto her friend's face. She held Y/n close, feeling her heart break for her best friend.

"It's not your fault," Tara said softly, stroking Y/n's hair as she held her. "Depression is a complicated illness… it's not something you can just overcome by being happy or supportive."

Y/n sobbed even harder at Tara's words, feeling guilty for blaming her ex's mental illness on the reason their relationship ended. She knew that it wasn't her fault, but she still felt like an idiot for thinking that she was the one who could change her ex-girlfriend.

"Please… make the pain stop," Y/n begged Tara, tears streaming down her face. "I just want it to all go away…"

Tara held Y/n even closer, feeling her friend's body shake with sobs. She knew that the pain of a broken heart was deep and raw, but she also knew that she would do anything to help ease Y/n's suffering.

"Shhh… you don't have to bear this pain alone," Tara said softly, gently rocking Y/n in her arms.

The night wore on, and as the hours passed, Y/n's crying slowly began to fade. Exhausted from all the sobbing, she finally drifted off to sleep in Tara's arms.

Tara held her friend close, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over her. She knew that she could never fully understand what Y/n was going through, but she also knew that she would do anything to help her best friend heal.

As Y/n slept peacefully in her arms, Tara whispered softly into her ear, "I love you… and I'll always be here for you." And with those words, she quietly watched over Y/n as she slept, making sure that her friend felt safe and loved. Even in the darkest of times, Tara knew that they would always find their way back to each other. And for now, that was all that mattered.

The next day..

The following morning, Tara found Y/n curled up on her couch, still wearing the same clothes from the night before. Her eyes were puffy from crying, and there was a lingering sadness in her usually bright and cheerful demeanor.

"Hey," Tara said softly, sitting down next to Y/n and putting an arm around her shoulders. "How are you feeling?"

Y/n let out a small sigh, leaning into Tara's embrace. "I… I don't know, Tara," she replied, her voice trembling with emotion. "Everything just seems so overwhelming… I miss her, but at the same time, I hate how she made me feel like shit all the time. And now… I just feel so stupid for thinking that I could make her happy."

Tara squeezed Y/n's shoulder gently, trying to offer some comfort. "You know what, Y/n?" she said softly. "It takes a lot of courage to admit when something isn't right… and you're right to feel hurt. No one should make you feel bad about yourself, especially not someone who claims to love you."

Y/n sniffled, wiping away a stray tear. "Thanks, Tara," she murmured, leaning her head against Tara's chest. "You always know what to say to make me feel better."

[accioprocrastination]

One Day At A Time (Part 6/?)

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

Summary: Hangman's fiancée is hospitalised and Jake waits for her to wake up

T/W: Anxiety, panic disorder, PTSD, POW, hints to torture, SA, abortion, pregnancy references, death

A/N: Sorry this got so much darker than I was expecting... Also as per I haven't proof read so ignore the grammar

Part 5 in case you missed it

Jake POV -

Jake wakes up stomach rumbling with a dead arm from clutching your hand as he sleeps. He momentarily breaks your hand hold to move his arm a bit, hoping to regain some feeling.

A consultant walks in smiling slightly at Jake as they make eye contact through the glass of the door.

"Morning." the doctor says walking in.

"Any news today?" Jake responds hopeful that you'll be coherent enough to talk to him soon.

The man proceeds to walk Jake through all of your bigger injuries - you arm and several ribs are broken; your ankle is sprained; they've operated on your shoulder to make sure it heals correctly. No haemorrhage from hitting your head but you might have a mild concussion.

"There's one other thing as well." The doctor says meeting Jake's gaze.

"I don't like that look doc, what is it?" Jake's nerves skyrocket from the doctor's obvious hesitation.

All of the colour in Jake's face drains as the doctor starts explaining to him what an ectopic pregnancy is. He shudders in repulsion as the doctor says the same thing in a slightly different way in an effort to fully express that it's not viable.

He cuts the doctor off when they start talking about treatment options. "I-I-I just need a minute." Jake says tears filling his eyes. "It's not about the abortion. I just need a minute to process that someone's done that too my Y/N." Jake tries to explain that this isn't a pro-life meltdown.

He doesn't see the doctor nod but he hears the man leave.

The second the door shuts Jake lets out a loud sob at the glimpse of what the last few years have looked like for you. He hunches over stomach clenching from worry - he knows that the minute you find that out that particular diagnosis, you're going to freak out.

Jake continues to cry he thinks back to the only other time you've been pregnant. The time that it was his kid and there were complications. Whatever bastard did this to you is going to unknowingly force you to relive that day.

Jake fruitlessly wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his hoodie then turns back to you face still wet from the tears silently falling down his cheeks. "This changes nothing with you and me sweets. I will be here every step of the way if you want me to." Jake says kissing your hand.

Having gone through a million emotions in the span of a few minutes Jake needs to step out of the room to try and let go of his rage.

*

Reader POV -

Every muscle In your body is tense in the knowledge that someone was nearby when you were trying to wake up earlier.

Wires and tubing press uncomfortably against your back. Why would they lie you over them that seems stupid?

You lie there controlling your breathing, eyes shut tightly just listening for signs of someone else.

I really don't want to open my eyes in case I'm not alone.

It's eerily quiet. All you can hear is the faint buzzing of tinnitus in your ears and a machine steadily beeping.

Okay, no one else is here, you tell yourself before gently opening your eyes. You scan the otherwise empty hospital room frowning in confusion. You're not sure whether someone was next to you or whether you dreamt that someone was in the vacant chair by your side?

There's fresh flowers and a card on the windowsill, so someone has been here.

A male nurse walks in as you try to disconnect from the machines behind you.

"Please don't do that! You're in the hospital." He says to you.

God my head is pounding.

"I got out?" you murmur in response, so drained that even talking is more of an effort than it has been recently.

"Yes you got out. You're okay." He confirms.

You nod slightly in recognition of what he just said, but mentally you completely disagree that you're okay right now.

"How's the pain on a scale from one to ten?" He questions.

Groaning in pain you shift slightly, you don't verbalise the feeling that you can only imagine is similar to being hit by a bus. Instead you ask "Can I self discharge?"

"It would be strongly against our medical advice if you were to self discharge right now. I would recommend that you stay here under observation and on the IV for a few more days." He grimaces at the prospect of you leaving this room.

"I'm not staying here." You exclaim, wincing slightly as you rip out a needle from your arm.

"Let me just go get a consultant to talk everything through with you and if you still want to leave after that, then you can." The nurse says hesitantly before jogging out of the room. I think he must be new to the role.

The door to your room opens and you suddenly understand the nurse's hesitancy as two police officers walk in.

You try to dart into an upright position to be more alert but whimper at your body's reluctance to move. The agony radiating from your left arm is unbearable. I can't imagine what sitting up would've felt like if that hadn't put my arm in this sling.

"Oh great you're awake!" The young police lady says standing pencil straight by the side of your bed ready to start questioning you.

"You're in the hospital, do you know what happened?" The guy questions you.

"What happened to Ghost?" You begin your own interrogation for answers.

"High on painkillers?" The female officer turns to the man who shakes his head.

"Was that your back seaters callsign?" He queries.

"Yeah. Is h-h-" You nod but you're cut off by the officer.

"It was instant. He wouldn't have felt anything." He answers without making you ask.

You cover your eyes with the palms of your hands fighting to regain a semblance of composure at how abysmal that news makes you feel.

The anxious ringing in your head eventually subsides and you remove your hands from your face. You're somehow still surprised to see that the officers stayed for however long it took for you to be able to fake okay.

"I need to go home." you admit quietly more to yourself than to them. You don't articulate that you just want to blanket cocoon on your sofa while Jake silently assures you that everything is going to be fine.

Your hands quiver slightly at the reality that he might not have waited for you; your home might not even be your home anymore.

Thoughts torrent your mind before you finally muster the courage to ask the room what date it is.

"April the 8th" The police lady answers.

"W-w-what year is it?" You speak up. The police man standing silently in the doorway looks horrified at the prospect that you might not know that but he interjects and answers you anyway.

"Shit." You respond in momentary disbelief that it's been that long.

I mean it felt like forever but I had convinced myself it had been a couple of months and i'll go home to everything the same.

"Jake thinks I've been dead for four years?" tears flood your eyes and your voice breaks, for the first time in years it's not from disuse.

How the fuck am I meant to go home after that amount of time?

If he hasn't moved onto someone else, surely he would've at least mourned you. If he's said goodbye to you like that how is it fair to suddenly reappear?

None of this is fucking fair.

Ghost should be here too.

*

Jake POV

Jake's heart drops to the floor as he carefully opens your room door to reveal an empty bed. From the haphazard sheets and wires flung across the room, he knows that no one has taken you into surgery without consulting him.

You're still in fight or flight mode.

He discards his unopened sandwich on the table and runs to the nurse's station.

"Room 26 - where is she?" Jake asks the guy behind the desk.

"She asked to self discharge; she's gone." he shrugs.

"She's gone?" Jake clarifies.

"Yep. If you can convince her to come back to hospital I think that would be in her best interest." He responds.

Five minutes - I was gone for five fucking minutes. Jake flings himself down the stairs, running at full speed to the exit.

He forces himself to stop when he's out of the hospital. He glances over everyone in the immediate vicinity.

You have to be here somewhere. And yet you're not here.

Where on earth would you go?

After all this time would you go home?

Home is fucking miles away - how would you get there with no phone and no money?

Jake's heart pounds in his chest as he walks to his car. He walks at a snail's pace so that he can check everyone that crosses his path isn't you.

I'll find you. I promise I'll find you.

Part 7

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[worldlxvlys]

this isn’t based on any texts with dwb!chris but i was wondering if u could write a fic abt dwb!chris teaching the reader how to juggle cause she doesn’t know how. maybe make it rly fluffy nd shit, like maybe she cries cause she’s frustrated she can’t do it (i would sob i literally can’t juggle) and chris comforts her and maybe cuddles at the end?

obv it’s ok if not <3 xx

never change

dwb! chris x reader

warnings: none. enjoy <333

dwb! chris masterlist

•••• ••••••••••••••• ••••

i watched as Chris skillfully passed the oranges from one hand to the other, while one was thrown in the air and he caught it without effort. he does it so seamlessly, as though it’s a skill that everyone is born knowing how to do.

“can you show me how?” i asked, a sweet smile forming on my face.

���i can try, i’ve never really had to teach anyone”

he stopped juggling and stood behind me, putting his arms around mine. this man is going to be the death of me.

“relax baby” he whispered into my ear, running his hands along my shoulders.

he helped me position my arms properly, pushing my elbows in.

“let’s just start with two oranges” he said as placed the third one down.

“just focus on passing them back and forth” following his instructions, i threw the round objects back and forth between my two hands.

right, left, catch, catch.

i continued to go through the motions a few more times, waiting for the next step.

“good, keep your elbows tucked in” i moved my elbows in.

“ok, now we can try adding the other in”

“now do the same thing, but before the second orange comes down you add in an extra throw “ i watched as he demonstrated again.

right, left, right, catch.

i watched him do it, but my brain couldn’t process it.

“wait, what? ” i asked, now confused.

he then demonstrated again, but i was still lost.

“here, just try it” he said as handed me the oranges.

i attempted to do exactly as he said, but could never get it right.

“this is so fucking stupid, why is this so complicated” i said, starting to get annoyed.

“hey it’s alright ma, no one gets it on their first try, just give it some time” he said as he rubbed my shoulders.

i tried, and tried but i couldn’t get the rhythm down.

“fuck! this shouldn’t be so god damn hard!” i exclaimed, feeling tears prick at the corner of my eyes.

“baby, it’s ok. we can try again another time” chris said, picking up on how upset i was getting.

“i feel so fucking stupid, this should be simple” i said as i looked up at him, tears starting to fall from my eyes.

“and i don’t know why i’m crying! i’m not upset, i’m pissed!” i said, getting frustrated.

he took the oranges from me and wrapped his arms around me, resting his head on top of mine.

“it’s ok baby, i got you. you’re not stupid, there are plenty of people who can’t even do the first step of juggling and you aced it”

“that’s a damn lie chris, anyone could toss oranges back and forth” i looked up at him, laughing through the tears.

“hmm maybe, but it cheered you up!” he said with a growing smile, wiping my tears away.

“i guess”

“listen, if you never want to juggle again you don’t have to. i doubt anyone will hold you at gunpoint and tell you to juggle for your life” this sent us both into fits of giggles, making us both laugh even harder at the sound of the other’s laughter.

“you probably just jinxed me”

“i don’t think so ma”

we both stopped laughing, staring at each other with wide grins. i gave him a quick peck, making his smile even wider.

“ok forget the juggling, can we just cuddle? ”

“always ma” he said as he led me to the couch. we both flopped down onto it, and he wrapped his arms around me sticking his nose into the crook of my neck.

“you’re perfect, baby. never change.”

•••• •••••••••••••• ••••

hope y’all like <333

i never realized how hard it is to describe juggling, especially when you don’t know how lmaooo

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[nicolettecallednikki]

Just a small Esteban x Gasly!sister fix that I've been working on for ages for fun. Enjoy 🫶🏼

She'd always had a thing for Esteban. It seemed silly to say, with Charles right there, the Prince of Monaco, Il Predestinato, widely acknowledged hottie, but for Martine Gasly, the only full-sibling of Pierre and the only girl in their blended family, it had always been the slightly goofy looking dark horse, Esteban. For all Pierre had to say about his complicated past with Esteban, it went double for Martine, who'd seen first hand what their families fighting had done to the two young boys. She'd been helpless to fix anything about their relationship, all her attempts only making it worse.

"It's him or me," Pierre said harshly, once when the two had had a fight and she'd tried to go to Esteban to comfort him. Esteban, who had no one but his parents and a nothing but a motor home, against Pierre and their brothers, Maman et Papa, Antoine and Charles who always, even when he was in the wrong, sided with the blonde, and all his friends at school.

"That's not right," she'd squeaked, trying to stop from crying, "You two are friends."

"Not anymore, sœurette," he said, coldly, "Not ever again."

To this day, the way Pierre spoke of Esteban in the media made her quite anxious. She knew her brother, and knew the longer Esteban stayed silent on the matter the more he'd speak on it, and the more stupid he'd sound. He was getting kind of frantic about the whole thing, fanatical, to the point where even he made note of it.

"I'm talking about him as if he were my girlfriend," he'd stopped himself once, to point it out, his ears tinged red in embarrassment.

It had been years since that final argument, at least the final argument she'd witnessed, and Martine had stood firmly- proudly at times, not so much at others- by her brother's side ever since. Blood was thicker than water, after all, and thicker too, than the pressée they'd all enjoyed as kids together, she supposed.

But when Pierre's move to Alpine was announced, Martine's throat constricted as if she'd lost access to air. She knew Esteban wouldn't want him there, that he'd been pulling, quite publicly, for Mick Schumacher, and she didn't blame him. The picture he'd posted of the two little boys from Normandy? He'd cropped her out, she knew he did, because she had the same picture hidden in the bottom drawer of her desk at home. She'd been at Pierre's other side, even then, but there was no question she was staring adoringly at the brun, as she was prone to in those early days.

It was only when it was announced that Alpine wouldn't allow the Gasly and Ocon families to attend the same races that she was able to take a deep, full breath again. She didn't know what she'd do when face to face with Esteban again, but at least it wouldn't happen often.

It wasn't like she hadn't spent time at Grand Prixs before, but she'd always had the safety net of being in a separate garage from Esteban. When Pierre was at Alpha Tauri, she'd spent plenty of time in the garage, and therefore plenty of time with his teammate, Yuki. Since school had been mostly online after covid she'd traveled more than ever before- the mechanics joked that if she spent any more time hanging around the garage, they were going to make her start doing pit stops with them.

She and Yuki had had a wonderful friendship, and she was the one behind most of those "Yukierre" photo ops. She still spoke to the younger boy sometimes, and his mother had even invited her to stay at the family house during the Japanese Grand Prix weekend.

Somehow, she couldn't envision the same for her and Esteban. Every time they passed each other in the past he'd been polite, too polite. Greeted her like she was a stranger, and just kept walking.

The only respite had been at Anthoine's funeral.

He'd hung near the back of the church, head down, trying to appear shorter than he was in an effort not to draw attention. For Pierre and even Charles, it was never like that. They were very open with their grief, and they had every right to be, but when you're more vocal, people come to comfort you. When you're quiet, you're alone.

So, she'd spotted him there, his once long hair now short and gelled into another sort of helmet. She knew, of course, he'd had a bad season- he was the Mercedes Reserve driver and not racing, all because some boy's father bought him a seat- which Esteban's own father could never do. Then she'd learned the two became friends- something only Esteban could do, would do. For all his brashness and his reputation for fighting, she knew all he really wanted was to be accepted, make friends.

He looked- aside from sad- uncomfortable, in an ill-fitting suit. The sleeves, and probably legs, were too short. Neither of his parents were seated with him, although they had accompanied him, but rather a girl- his girlfriend, maybe? Martine tried not to pay too much attention to who he was dating at any given point it time.

Once they all exited the church, she couldn't stop her feet from going to him, despite what her brothers would say. She'd tapped him on the shoulder, a shoulder much higher than it used to be, and if he was surprised to see her when he turned around, he had the good grace not to show it.

He bent down to kiss her cheek, but she caught him by surprised and hugged him. After only a moment's hesitation, she felt him sink into the hug. She had been almost worried he'd knock her down, but he was so thin! If he had told her he was lighter than she was, she would believed it.

"Esteban," she breathed and he sucked in a sharp breath, "It was good to see you, Titine."

In the days following the Belgian Grand Prix, most of the drivers took off to start their summer break, but a few stuck around the hotel for a couple of days to blow off steam, and Martine elected to stay with them, wanting an inside look at what all mischief they got into and enjoying time with her brother and his friends.

While Pierre took Kika shopping, Martine made her way down to the pool where she knew Charles and Arthur were hanging out. Age wise, she was between the two brothers, but they acted like she was eons younger, still a child- worse than Pierre, at times. She and her mother had long suspected it was because they didn't have their own little sister to pick on. So, in retaliation, she made it her life's work to get a rise out of them, Charles especially.

Speaking of the handsome Monégasque, she sat on the edge of his chaise so he could put suntan lotion on her. His ex had always side eyed them for this type of thing, but Alex took her at her word when she said she had grown up with all boys- her brothers, the Leclercs, Esteban, the Huberts, not another girl among them- and merely needed someone to apply lotion so that she don't burn to a crisp. Kika, she assumed, had probably quietly reminded her that, while WAGs may come and go, little sisters tend to stick around much longer, and it was better for Alex to be on Martine's good side, than against her.

"Oh, Carlos is gorgeous," she sighed dramatically, leaning against Charlie, "God, I always forget how good looking he is. Up close? It's unreal."

"Ma crevette," came Charles response, "I will drown you in that pool."

"Relax, Calamar," she tsked, "You know you're my favorite Ferrari. Plus, Carlos wouldn't go for a girl as young as me, I asked around."

"Who'd you ask?" Charles shot up from his seat.

"Lando," she shrugged, "Figured it was best to go to his closest pal. He said, unlike you and Pierre, Carlos likes girls his own age."

"The drowning threat stands," Charles replied, but the flush growing up his bare chest to his neck and face told her she'd gotten him good this time.

A moment later, another thought occurred to him, and he pulled off his glasses to glare at her, "Why were you talking to Lando?"

"He's gotten quite handsome, himself, hasn't he?" she winked, "Grown up nicely, if I may say so."

"You may not," Charles growled and, having had enough of her, promptly picked her up and tossed her into the pool.

From years of experience, she knew better than to shriek or thrash about when being thrown into the pool, as that was just the type of scene the boys were looking for, so she simply plugged her nose with her free hand and accepted her fate.

A second splash followed hers, and when she swam back up to the surface, she was delighted to see it was none other than Lando himself who had followed her in.

"Funny meeting you here," he giggled. She wasn't sure yet if she liked a man who giggled, but at least someone was flirting with her, for a change.

That night they headed to the club, Pierre leading the way and her following- always following- with Charles on one side of her, his hand at the small of her back, and Arthur on the other. You'd think she was the celebrity and they her bodyguards, the way they carried on, but at the end of the day, at least she never had to pay for her own drinks with this trio. Even if they did make her change out of her first choice of outfit.

After getting settled at their table and getting a drink in her system, she spotted George and Alex- easily seen in most crowds, but especially when surrounded by drivers, who were not known for their height- and headed to the dance floor to join them. She was dancing like mad with Carmen and Lily, just being silly, when she must've danced a bit too close to George, by mistake.

"No, no," he tsked, "None of that. You'll not get me in trouble with the missus, just to needle your brother."

She laughed, but didn't deny it, and Lily leaned into her, conspiratorially, "I can think of someone who'd probably love to do the honor."

She froze for a moment, like a deer in headlights, wondering how Lily of all people- lovely, but not someone she was particularly close to- had guessed about her crush on Esteban. A moment later, when Lando made their way over to them, she let out a relieved sigh, hoping the others were too far gone to notice, and allowed herself to be pulled closer to the Brit on the dance floor, trying for the life of her not to think about a certain other driver.

Lando was a good dancer, and even with no evidence she could guess he was a better dance partner than Esteban would be, all lanky limbs jumbled about. But then again, Lando was the one who kept breaking trophies and things, so maybe he was uncoordinated and Esteban would be a better dance partner. She tried not to think about that.

She never saw him out- maybe Alpine made sure he and Pierre went to separate clubs, or maybe he didn't go to clubs at all, just went home for a quiet night in with whatever girl he was dating- she still refused to learn their names, so that if they were ever introduced she could realistically act like she didn't sit up nights thinking about them, about him. She thought she might prefer that herself- a quiet night in, as opposed to the noisy, sweaty club- but if she was honest with herself, she'd probably just prefer to be anywhere Esteban was.

She knew, psychologically, that she wasn't in love with him- she didn't even know him anymore, not really, not like she had- but was only attached to him because she'd never had closure. She'd been in love- thought she'd been in love- with him for so long, only to be separated and then expected to never speak to him again. Naturally, that did her head in, so of course she'd spent the rest of her life comparing every other man she met to the imaginary version of him she had in her head, an amalgamation of his past self, his media persona, and the tortured soul she'd made him into.

Shaking the thoughts from her head, she let Lando pull her impossibly closer.

She awoke in her own bed, alone, having been escorted to her room by Arthur in the wee hours of the morning. Her legs were deliciously sore from dancing, but she was ravenous and headed to the dining room for the buffet breakfast, assuming it would be quicker than waiting for room service.

She did not expect Esteban to be there, a Belgian waffle in front of him, piled high with strawberries and whipped cream. She considered sitting with him, but when he didn't look up from his phone at her, she chose a table across the mostly empty room, instead.

Her dropped spoon clattering to the floor got his attention, though, and his a small, polite smile enraged her enough to make her approach him.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked in French.

"No?" he said, "What made you think that?"

"You don't speak to me," she said, losing steam at his genuinely surprised tone.

"I don't-" Esteban tried and failed to explain, "What is there to say?"

He was actively resisting the urge to untangle her hands which she anxiously twisted and wrung.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, "Nothing. Anything. Like when we were kids, just talk."

"We haven't been kids for a long time, Martine," he said. Esteban was starting to wish he'd gone home- gone anywhere else- but Mick and Lance had wanted to stay and it wasn't like he had a girlfriend to go home to these days.

Just then Carlos entered the dining room, startling them both, and Martine abandoned the thought of eating to run back to her room and wallow.

It wasn't like his sister to miss a meal, even with the hangover Pierre was sure she had- Arthur said he practically had to carry her back last night- so Pierre was mildly concerned when he'd knocked repeatedly on her door, with no answer.

"What's wrong, sœurette?" Pierre asked from her doorway. Once he was sure she wasn't in there with Lando, of all people, he'd let himself in with the second key she'd given him.

"Nothing," she choked out, face first in her pillow, "Please, Pierre, leave it alone, just this once."

"Ma crevette," he said after a long moment. Even though they hadn't discussed it, he knew his sister well, "Is this about Lando or- "

She swallowed back a sob to hastily cut him off, "I'm okay, I promise, I'm just being stupid. I'll be by the pool in a bit."

Her brother pushed on anyway, "If this is because of who I think it is... I am the last one who would want something between the two of you, but if he doesn't see how amazing you are, he's the stupid one, yes?"

"Thank you," she squeaked out, and felt him lean over to kiss her cheek, before leaving the room.

Next, Pierre banged on Esteban's hotel room door, not for the first time in their racing career.

"This is stupid," Pierre sputtered, before Esteban could even register his appearance.

"Excuse me?" the younger man returned.

"I- we don't," Pierre took a breath, "We know our relationship, but even I am shocked you'd treat Martine this way."

"What way?" he asked, exasperated, "I don't even speak to her."

"That's what I mean," Pierre snarled, "What did she ever do to you? She always showed you kindness, even when I asked her not to."

"Pierre," Esteban said slowly, as Pierre was apt to bite off his head at a moment's notice, "I do not speak to Martine, because I don't want to come between you and her. I know you didn't want us to be friends."

"You'd rather hurt my sister than cause an issue between her and me?" Pierre questioned, "That doesn't even make sense."

"Well, if I were to..." Esteban didn't complete the thought, "Wouldn't the first thing you'd do be to tell her it was to spite you. I didn't want her to think I am using her to hurt you either. There was no winning, for anyone, in this situation."

Pierre opened his mouth as if to speak and shut it again, "I don't know what to say to that."

"Finally," Esteban couldn't resist the urge to roll his eyes, "I've managed to shut you up, for once."

That night, as Lando headed to the bar to refresh their drinks, Carlos took his opportunity to take Martine for a spin on the dance floor- quite literally a spin, as he was very gentlemanly about it and didn't grab at her at all.

"So," he said in his thickly accented English, "You and Landito have gotten quite close, no?"

"Yes," she blushed a bit, "I suppose we have."

"You like him?" Carlos asked, "Or you just want a bit of fun while you visit with your brother?"

She clamped her mouth shut, and he assured her she misunderstood him, "I don't blame you for that, that's all I'm saying. Lando, he is a good mate, but... I have sisters, yes? I would not want my sisters to pursue him, you see?"

"I see," she nodded, and something about the atmosphere or the drinks she'd had or Carlos' nature made her almost burst to tell him about her real crush, "Can you keep a secret?"

"Not well," he acknowledged with an indulgent grin, "but you'll tell me anyway. Everyone tells me their secrets, that is how come my hair is so big."

"I can see that," she laughed at his Mean Girls reference- he really did have sisters- before going on tiptoe to get closer to him, "I do like someone on the grid, actually."

He stretched away from her, "Not Charlie, no?"

"No," her nose crinkled and he looked relieved.

"Who?" he asked, and she laughed, "Guess."

"George, Alex, Yuki?" he listed off her brothers friends, and she chuckled, "None of them."

"Someone your brother is not friendly with, then?" his eyes flashed with merriment, and she nodded.

She wasn't sure if he was just being coy by not mentioning himself or if it hadn't occurred to him, since they barely knew each other, but she felt obligated to let him off the hook, "And it's not you, Mr. Smooth Operator."

He clutched his heart in faux hurt, "I am crushed."

She smiled and let the conversation drop for a moment, before he leaned down a bit to give this guess quieter than the rest, "It is Esteban, no?"

She felt herself freeze, but he spun her out and back into his arms while she recovered.

"I told you," he quirked an eyebrow, a wise smiling playing on his overly pretty face, "Sisters. I know how you women's minds work."

She swallowed thickly. While it felt good to finally tell someone her secret, she wasn't sure why on earth she'd picked Carlos, aside from he'd been looking at her with his big brown cow eyes and she'd felt compelled.

Honestly, now that she paused to consider it, he was just about the worst option, as he was close with both Lando and Charles, and therefore her brother, and probably outright disliked Esteban out of loyalty to Alonso. She bit her lip, suddenly stressed.

"Do not worry, chiquita," he let out a light chuckle, dipping her slightly, "Your secret is safe with me."

As vindicated as he'd felt in this conversation with Pierre, both the Gasly's coming at him in one day had Esteban's head swimming and seeing them in the bar he'd purposely chosen to avoid them did not help. The fact that Lando accompanied them and the others was enough to make him order a drink, which he normally doesn't do.

"How's it goin, boys?" Lando had a straw between his teeth and a shit eating grin on his face as he approached Mick, Lance, and Esteban, "Este, you're drinking? Wild night tonight, huh?"

Esteban swallowed thickly, forcing a smile, "Not too wild, I hope."

"Not me," the younger man smirked, "I'm hoping for a wild night."

"Lan," Mick warns, but he continues on, "You must know Marti, from growing up and all? She's great, huh?"

"Martine," Esteban pronounces the name, "Yeah, she's a great girl. She's special, that one."

"And she's hot," Lando added, "Some girls look a too much like their brothers, and it doesn't work, but she's, like, so hot."

"She's beautiful," Esteban took a large gulp of his drink for fortitude, "Be good to her, eh?"

"You too, huh?" Lando side eyed him, and Este froze momentarily, "God, the speech I got from Pierre and Charles was bad enough, what do you people think of me. I'm not that bad, I swear."

"I didn't mean-" he insisted, but Lando laughed it off, "No worries, I don't mind the fuss, it'll only make her like me more, I reckon."

Esteban took a step forward, as if he had more to say, but Lance clapped a hand on his shoulder, just then to pull him back.

"Have a good night, man," Lance said smoothly, "We'll see you around."

"I'm not leaving," Esteban said stubbornly, once Lando had left.

"Is this more about Lando, Pierre, or Martine?" Esteban's eyes refused to meet Lance's, his stare fixed on the dance floor, where Martine was once again with Lando.

"Pierre?" he asked, "What would he have to do with anything?"

"I don't know," Lance shrugged, "Maybe you're taking your rivalry too seriously, unconsciously."

"I- it has nothing to do with Pierre," he shrugged.

"I don't know, she looks happy, Este," Mick said.

"But do you really think she will be happy with Lando?" he question, frowning at the thought.

"No," Mick agreed this thing with Lando was likely a fling. He'd grown up with him, and it was hard to take him seriously in the romance department, "but I think you know it would be... cruel to break her heart, over this kind of uncertainty."

"You think breaking up her and Lando would break her heart?" came the indignant reply.

"He means it would break her heart to go after her and then change your mind," Lance clarified.

The night quickly got out of hand, Esteban's low tolerance for drinking getting to him, with Lando and Martine close behind.

"Mate," Carlos was bent next to Lando's ear, "Come get some air with me."

"I'm in the middle of something," Lando replied, pawing at Martine, who looked drunkly confused at best and uncomfortable at worst. Behind them, Pierre was seething, only held back by Charles assuring him that sending Carlos to speak to Lando would be better than Pierre embarrassing Martine by breaking up the pair.

"Pierre's gonna put you through a wall if you don't take your hands off his sister," Carlos spoke low enough she couldn't hear, but she could guess.

"Lando, my brother's right there," she pointed out, "And the Leclercs. This is a bad idea."

"Alright, come back to my room," Lando proposed, "So we can have some privacy."

"Mate," Carlos warned, "Bad idea."

Luckily, the arrival of George, Alex, and the girls gave Martine a plausible excuse to extract herself and distracted Lando enough he allowed himself to be dragged to the bar by Carlos.

Forced onto a barstool and made to drink a glass of water, Lando was pink in the cheeks, flushed from the excitement and likely a bit embarrassed his old teammate was pulling rank on him.

Esteban was further down the bar, not looking too well himself, and Carlos leaned in to speak to him- in Italian or Spanish, Lando wasn't sure, but he couldn't understand it, whatever it was. Esteban replied, gesturing Lando's way and then at the girls on the dance floor.

Wonder what all that's about, Lando thought to himself, returning to his glass of water.

The Spaniard ran a hand through his hair, before patting it back into position, rolling his shoulders back, and ordering himself another drink. It was at times like this that he felt a decade older than his peers, rather than just a few years.

"Martine," Arthur approached the girl where she danced with Carmen and Lily, "All is good?"

"My little, big brother," she explained to the girls, before answering him, "I'm okay."

"Come dance with me," he pouted for effect, "You've been neglecting me all weekend."

She laughed, but complied, letting him pull her a small distance from them for a quiet conversation.

"I thought for sure Pierre's head would pop off," he laughed, "God the Brits have no sense of decorum, in front of your own brother!"

"It's sexism though," she objected, "You boys are allowed to do whatever you want with whoever you want, but I can't even dance with a boy."

"Ma cherie, that was not just dancing," he said, and she giggled into his shoulder, "Okay, you've made your point. Were you sent to bring me home?"

This is how it went, usually. Pierre and Charles got to stay out and have fun and poor Arthur was forced to babysit Martine, which he secretly didn't much mind, as he wasn't too keen of a partier anyway, especially not in the Formula 1 scene, were he was constantly faced with the reminder than he's not one of them.

"If you want to leave, of course I can take you," Arthur said, "but I calmed Charles and Pierre down, so you should be okay."

"Merci," she stretched to kiss his cheek, "You're the best little, big brother a girl could ask for."

"I know," he puffed up his chest, smiling brightly.

He and Martine had only gotten closer when he took up the role of development driver at Ferrari, and she felt less like his brother's-best friend's-sister and more like his own best friend, these days. Enough so that he could tell Lando wasn't the one on the grid she was most focused on.

"Ma belle," he said, taking a chance that she was drunk enough to forgive him if he overstepped, "I am wondering... is all this with Lando worth it?"

"It's no big deal," she said, "We're just having a bit of fun."

"I hope so," he said, "Because I think you're trying to distract yourself from something- someone, and I hope I'm wrong."

"Am I that obvious?" she bit her lip, suddenly feeling tears well in her eyes, "Does everyone know."

"Surely not Lando," he tried to lighten the mood, "I don't think Pierre and Charles suspect-"

"Pierre does," she admitted, "He said as much earlier today. And Carlos knows."

"Carlos?" Arthur looked confused.

"I told him," she said, wiping at her face with the back of her hand, "Or he guessed, I don't know."

Arthur grabbed her face to wipe her eyes without smearing her makeup more than she already had, "Martine, I've known you a long time, and I know everything that went on with him and your brother, or, if not everything, a lot of it. I just don't think it is healthy to hold all this in for so many years."

"What should I do?" she asked him.

"Talk to him," he suggested, "Pierre will forgive you, I am sure of it."

The breeze was cool against her skin as Martine gripped the railing outside the club, her shoulders tense. After her talk with Arthur, she'd spoken briefly to Lando, who'd probably need to be reminded of the conversation in the morning, before heading outside to get some air.

When she heard the door open behind her, she turned and was surprised to find Esteban, looking at her like he hadn't since he started F1, since all this nonsense with Pierre. She realized she hadn't really made eye contact with him in years, not properly. He was always looking past her, over her shoulder. Now, his eyes were soft, his smile almost shy.

"Don't look at me like that," she frowned, "Like you pity me. Pierre's silly, little sister with her silly, little crush."

"You know I don't pity you," Esteban reached out to touch her arm, "I feel a number of different things, but definitely not pity."

"Why'd you come out here?" she wondered aloud.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said, "You said you wanted us to talk, no?"

She nodded her head, but suddenly found herself without any words.

"I can't tell you how hard it's been to ignore you over the years," Esteban started, "It's only gotten worse now with Pierre at Alpine, and you always so- close, but I swear I never meant it the way you took it."

She nodded, and he continued, "I never thought in a million years that you were- wanting me to not be ignoring you. If I'd known you were interested, in being my friend even, I would've- I didn't know. I don't know, now, what to say. I didn't think this was even a possibility."

"You don't know how long I've wanted to hear that," she was surprised to find her eyes tearing up again, "I didn't think I ever would, honestly."

"Titine," he said softly, the name a relic from their childhood, only Maman and Pierre ever called her that anymore, "I know we haven't been close in a long time, but I would like to get to know you again, if you think you would like that."

"I think I would like that a lot," she grinned and he smiled back as he kissed her.

[flxwrites]

Morning Run

Current Harry X Reader

It's a Monday morning in Los Angeles, a sunny and perfect day for a morning run.

Of course for Harry because Leviee doesn't plan on getting up at 8:00 a.m. to go for a 2.5 mile run with her boyfriend in sportswear.

"Good morning, love." She hears the purr of his British accented voice brush her ear "I know you're awake, so it won't work to pretend you're still asleep."

"I'm not going running with you, H. It's too early and-"

"And a perfect way to start the day, come on. We can stop by for a bagel and a coffee. It'll be fun, bunny." The Brit interrupts her by kissing the skin of her bare stomach.

"What do you say, you’ll come with me?" she purrs still with her lips attached to her.

And well, it's complicated to say no to him.

╰─────✧──────╮

She's gonna kill him, she swears she will.

They have been running for over thirty minutes and Leviee feels like she is about to collapse on the ground if they don't slow down, Harry looks fresh as a daisy, he greets the other runners and the nice elderly ladies with a smile.

"Hazz...stop." She gasps but her boyfriend pays her no attention.

Then as she is about to reach out her arm to take his hand and stop him, her feet stop working properly causing her to stumble to the ground.

And Leviee thinks about how it hurts like hell to feel the small stones scrape against her skin and how she wants to disappear in that moment.

"Love..." She hears Harry's voice and how he quickly helps her into a more comfortable position. "Hey, what happened." He asks softly shaking the dirt off her clothes and looking at the red, scraped and bruised skin on his girlfriend's knees and hands.

His heart aches.

Leviee feels like a little girl at that very moment, she wants to cry from the burning on her skin and the embarrassment of how people look at her as they pass by.

"Are you okay bunny?, we should go home. I don't want these wounds to get infected." She hears him mention before he slips his arms under her body to lift her bridal style back to the car.

They couldn't even have their breakfast outside because she was stupid enough to fall down, she ruined everything.

At least that's what she thinks.

On the drive over, Harry was so sweet to Leviee, she could have melted right there. He kept kissing her hand, telling her how much he loved her and offering her a thousand things to do when they got home.

"You wait here, love. I'll go get the emergency kit." He says once he sets Leviee down on the bed and disappears into the bathroom.

Besides the fact that her head feels like it's going to explode, her stomach growls from lack of food and her skin still burns with the slightest touch.

"I'm back, let me see" He mutters leaning down in front of her so he can heal her.

"Will it hurt a lot?" she raises her gaze to Harry with puppy dog eyes.

"Just for a few seconds, petal. It'll be worse if you don't let me clean it up. Will you be good to me and let me clean it up?" a shiver definitely runs through her body as her boyfriend's voice seems to deepen further.

"Okay, I'll be good..." She replies earning a smile from him.

When she least expects it, the small cotton ball with disinfectant touches the irritated skin making her give a little jump on her spot and hiss at the contact.

"damn it." She grunts and hears H's light chuckle.

"I'm just finishing up, bunny. You're doing great."

Then she closes her eyes feeling the last touches on her knees before only the cool sensation remains.

"All clean, your majesty." Harry smiles standing up to throw the used cotton pads in the waste basket before returning to her.

"Thank you...sorry to ruin your morning run”

"Don't be silly, bunny." He laughs lightly as he cups her cheeks kissing her lips briefly "Now tell me what you would like for breakfast. I can prepare or order whatever you want, I'm going to spoil you."

Harry definitely loves his morning runs, but he loves Leviee much more.

╰────────✧──────────╮

[quill-pen]

So I had a thought.

Connie’s divorce gets finalized. Like, she and Orin sign the paperwork, shake hands, everything. He travels to London to do it and is … different.

He wishes her well as he turns himself in for all the abuse/corruption to go to prison. He even apologizes. She can’t speak. She asks the girls to come for support.

She’s deathly quiet and taciturn the whole time. Her demeanor reminds the girls of when she snapped and raided the med cabinet. She’s on the precipice.

Then, upon arriving in the cottage door, she just buckles. She throws her bag, tries to punch a wall, then just … breaks.

It should be a good thing. It should be a relief. A party! And the divorce party will come. But … she still loved him hopelessly for 20 years. And it ends with a whispered “I’m sorry”.

Adonis tries to call and she tells one of the girls she can’t do it. “I can’t let him hear me cry about another man. He deserves more than that.”

Connie doesn’t even love Orin anymore, but …it’s not that simple. She did love him, and although she never wants to see him … was that it?

Twenty years of suffering, torture, and an attempted su*cide ends with a messy signature and ‘I’m sorry’? She wants to forgive him but can’t.

Arthur filled her heart with mournful sadness, but Orin filled it with mournful anger.

“Talk to me, girls. Please. Just help me forget.”

Oh, Connie. These feelings are so complicated and completely valid, honey.

Bess is the one that takes the lead with this. After all, she's the only other one in the house that can, somewhat, relate to Connie's situation. She leaves relaying messages to Adonis with Gal and Addie and takes Connie to her room. She helps Connie take her shoes off and then she sits beside her on the bed with an arm around her. If Connie snuggles into her or curls up and buries her head in Bess' lap, she lets her, stroking her hair soothingly.

"I know," she murmurs. "I know how much it sucks to have put all this time, energy, and emotion into someone for years and have it feel like nothing but wasted time in the end. To hold out hope for someone you cared about to change and become the person you wanted them to be, even trying to help them become that person, but all they do is fail or tell you to piss off with it.

"You want him to be angry at the end, to fight back and match your energy, to give you an explanation why he did what he did or was what he was: "I lied because...", "I beat you because...", "I treated you like less than human because...". You wanna try to understand why he couldn't or wouldn't care about you the same way you cared about him. It all feels flat and unfinished when he doesn't give you anything like that. And it hurts because you realize he probably never did have feelings like you did; maybe even never actually cared about you at all."

Bess grip Connie's trembling shoulder and brushes some hair off her wet cheek behind her ear. "That's how I felt when I broke it off with Oliver," she says. "I still felt that way, even when I wasn't with him half as long as you were with Orin, and, by the end, any positive feelings I had for him were long gone. So I can only imagine how bad it hurts for you right now, Con.

"And I know the hurt probably doesn't make much sense, in a logical way, but you shouldn't feel ashamed of it. You shouldn't hide it, either: You shouldn't go back to acting like everything is fine when it's not. It's okay to hurt and cry even when the reasons for them make no sense and feel stupid. And it's okay to let the people who care about you--all the people who care about you--know that you're not fine. They'll understand."

[moonlight-xxs-stuff]

🌸꒱꒱・SasoSaku God AU:

Thinking about sasosaku god au where sasori is kind of like the Moirai (the fates) in Greek and Roman mythology with Sakura being his thread of fate.

It's kinda complicated but hear me out. Instead of spinning the thread of life from a distaff, everytime her pink hair started fading into gold, that was the beginning of another life. (idk how to explain it tbh)

When they're in their temple, she sits on his lap while he decides the fate of people. She scolds him everytime he causes someone misfortune, but if she thinks a few words are gonna convince him not to laugh at a man losing his job for the nth time then she has to think twice.

Plus, if she wants to go outside and have fun then she's going to have to stay still and be quiet. But it's hard when she's carrying almost 100k lives on her head. So she might as well talk his ears off.

When with the other gods, he holds her close and eyes everyone with disdain. He prays a crow will poke itachi's eyes out everytime the latter greets his Sakura with that stupid smile on his face.

His most painful part of the day is having to sit with her through a tea party with her friends. He hated them and, fortunately, they hated him too. At least he doesn't have to pretend he likes their presence for the sake of saving face. But the way Lee and Naruto keep talking shit about him not letting Sakura go outside much is pissing him off. He's not holding her captive, that's their job!

Their biggest argument was when his hands accidentally slipped and he ended a newborn's life. That night he had to fight a pack of wolves in order to be able to sleep outside since Sakura said she'd rather cook her eyes and eat them than look at him in the face.

If you ask them about each other, she'd say he's a sadistic, heartless man and he'd say she's a short-tempered, childish girl. But if you catch them on a good night perhaps you'll have a chance to witness the way Sakura's gold hair shine brighter when she tells you how pretty he is when he's peaceful, how his greyish brown eyes would look dreamy whenever he's deep in thought, how hard it is to make him laugh but the moment you hear his soft chuckle, see the way his lips curl into an innocent, childlike smile, you'll know it's worth it. Or maybe you'll get to hear sasori's once flat and monotonous voice turn soft as he tells you how even though he knows she can break a mountain in half with a little to no effort or how she can find an antidote to any of his poisons, he still sees her as his little delicate cherry blossom, that he used to protect her because they both were essential to each other's roles but now, he'd burn the world down if someone made her feel like crying.

At the end of the day, no matter what happened between them, if sasori puts his pride aside and gets on both kness pleading for her to forgive him, or if sakura doesn't get in bed and looks at him with watery eyes as if asking for forgiveness, then everything will be settled once again. With a kiss, or maybe more, they're back together. Because in reality, they both love each other too much to stay apart. And that was their fate, to be together forever, no matter what happens.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hiiii 😍😍😍😍 I'm so glad you like writing like this 😁 can I please request -

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚📚

🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺🐕‍🦺

🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮🔮

Thank you❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️

HI EL!

Ravi is posted, as you know. So I am adding one extra emoji to the rest as compensation.

So in that case...

30 for 🌊:

---

“Have you forgotten about the part where you’re taking my sister and niece to safety?” Buck reminds him. 

Ah, so he does admit they aren’t currently very safe. 

“No, I remember. So I guess I’ll have to drive them to the station, then come back. Which puts me in an extra crap situation, mind you.”

Buck scoffs. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” Eddie agrees. 

“And if I don’t let you inside?”

“Guess I’ll hope the ambulance is sturdy enough to wait on your street.” 

Buck sighs. And Eddie thinks he can see, in the other man’s eyes, the moment he chooses to surrender. 

“Come with me, Buck,” Eddie begs a final time. He steps towards him and takes his hands into his own. “We’ll check on the bar as soon as it’s safe. I promise.”

“Okay,” Buck whispers. “Okay, Eddie.”

🌊🌊🌊

The drive back to the station is blustery to say the least. Highly dangerous and a little bit stupid to be more exact. Eddie can hear Genevieve frightened and crying to her mother in the back, and feels terrible. But they make it safely back to the station, where there is power, beds, and blankets. 

“You’re sort of insane,” Wendy observes. 

“More or less,” Eddie admits. 

“Hope he’s worth it.” She adds.

“He definitely is.”

He sets them up in a private bunk area. No one raises a word of complaint.

---

21 for ⚡️:

---

Buck can see why this was a jarring way to start the morning. Ravi and Sadie aren’t even out of the locker room yet. It’s just Buck, Bobby, Hen, and Chim.

“When did you decide this?” Bobby asks.

“When he drunkenly suggested he wants to get married after Maddie and Chim’s wedding,” Buck says.

“You’re welcome for the inspiration, pal.” Chim tips his mug of coffee towards Buck. 

“Have you told Maddie?” Hen asks.

“No.” Buck admits. “Soon. Carefully waiting for chances to talk to people about it away from him.”

“Well, congratulations,” Bobby smiles. “This is great news, Buck.”

Buck scans their faces. 

“No one has any criticism?” He asks carefully.

“No,” Chim says. “This will make Eddie my brother-in-law, and I am working on collecting all of you via legal relations.”

---

33 for 🚨:

---

 For example, to the aforementioned boyfriend question, the answer is yes. As to its natural follow up question, who do they tell, they come to a few conclusions. Christopher, yes. Immediately. They can’t do this and live under the same roof and not tell Christopher. Maddie, yes. Asking her to keep it from Chim for just a little while longer. The rest of the team, not yet. They want to hold off for a bit longer.

“Not because I’m not sure!” Buck makes sure to tell him. “I’m very sure.”

“But because of HR complications?” Eddie asks.

“I want to wait until I have my shield.”

Buck’s delayed shield ceremony is in the middle of March. It has been a long time coming. Eddie can see why he doesn’t want to do anything to postpone it further.

“Oh, that’s right,” Eddie grins wickedly. “You’re technically sleeping with your superior.”

Buck’s expression flattens. “You don’t have authority over me, Eddie.”

“Yes?” Eddie pantomimes lifting an invisible phone to his ear. “HR? This is Eddie. I have to report a young, hunky firefighter trying to sleep his way to the top.”

“You’re younger than me,” Buck laughs.

“Maybe focus on the hunky bit,” Eddie suggests. 

It’s these sorts of conversations that typically move from laughing to kissing to fucking. Between Buck and the station, Eddie goes over a week without sleeping in his own bed. 

Telling Christopher goes surprisingly easily. They take him out for ice cream, thinking, what harm could a small amount of bribery do? Turns out, they don’t need it.

---

21 for 🩸:

SPOILERS AHEAD

---

“Bobby, I-I’d never hurt her,” Buck swears. “I’d never hurt anyone without a reason. I was just trying to-to find Eddie. To make things safer for him, if-if he was still in the city.”

Eddie’s hand finds Buck’s arm. Gentle. Reassuring. Grateful. 

“I know,” Bobby says. “I didn’t. But I see that now. Buck, I… I feel like I’ve failed you. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t know,” Buck shakes his head. “You couldn’t have known. We promised not to tell anyone. And no offense, but Athena’s a cop, so…”

Buck chuckles softly. “Yes, believe me, it’s been an adjustment for her. But at the end of the day, there are people she will choose over her job every time.”

Her daughter. Buck understands.

---

36 for 🦮:

---

They end up finishing their fancy ass fish dinner on Buck’s couch. With beer instead of nice white wine. Takeout containers and plastic cutlery instead of silverware. 

Cranberry is elated to see them both, but picks up on Buck’s mood immediately. Despite the food and the presence of her most cherished Eddie, she sticks stalwart by Buck’s side. She lays across his feet as they eat, like she’s anchoring him to the earth. 

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” Buck says, as Eddie finds a game on the TV he wants to watch. “I didn’t mean to ruin your night or cause a scene.”

“You didn’t,” Eddie waves him off. “First off, I like being here just as much, if not better. Second, shit happens. People have hard days.”

Buck takes a deep inhale. “Yeah. I guess that’s true.”

“It’s gonna be okay, you know?” Eddie assures him. “I know it’s hard right now. But you’ll get through it.”

Buck shrugs. “Not as me, though.”

“Who else would you be?” 

“I don’t know,” Buck admits. “I don’t know who I am if I’m not a firefighter. I was always searching for that answer before I landed here. Never much liked the guy I was beforehand.”

Eddie sits with this for a second. 

“Buck, I promise there’s more to life than being a firefighter-”

“Says the firefighter.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t always this, right?” Eddie says. “And… And there’s a lot I thought I’d be that I'm not, too. So… I get that, at least.”

Buck’s not sure what this means, other than maybe Shannon. He thought they’d get a life together? A second shot at a marriage? And they didn’t. 

---

24 for 🔮:

---

Mindlessly, not thinking about how creepy he must look standing in the middle of the street staring at this UHaul, Bobby takes a few steps so he can see past the van, to the front porch of the lovely two-story home behind it. He sees two people sitting on the porch. A brunette young woman, and a fair-haired teen. A young teen. Maybe thirteen or fourteen at most. A strange feeling settles in Bobby’s stomach. 

This is too ridiculous, right? The name Maddie and the exact same sibling archetype means nothing. If these two even are siblings. Lots of girls are named Maddie. Lots of them have teenage brothers and… And he’s sure lots of them wear an abundance of brightly colored, layered tank tops like… Like it’s the early 2000s. 

Bobby looks at the man in the car. He’s wearing a chunky digital watch. He’s looking at a… At a slide phone. 

What the hell sort of Heaven is this? The early 2000s? Really? If he’s going to be transported back in time, why not to his family? Why…

Wait.

Bobby looks at the teenager again. Really looks.

[sun-undone]

You definitely reminded me of some key points in season 3 that I definitely didn’t consider.

The château being burned down by topper seal the deal of him becoming an enemy. It would be EXTREMELY hard to see topper having a redemption story after that with some corny BS line like “ hey John b no hard feelings with the château, right?”💀💀💀

But just a warning 👀 if you hear Sarah’s voice starting off a epsiode with a reflective monologue of confusion and indecisiveness, then You know what’s coming 😂 let’s see if the pates intentionally screw us over with her character growth.

I agree with Jarah B being the stable couple as the other couples are still fresh and have some more exploring to do with their dynamic. I would love to see a bond created between JJ and Mike maybe closer to the end of season 4 to show Mike he can be the guy for kie and mike should give him a chance just like he was given one before he got accepted into the kooks.. we’ll seeeeee

NOWWWW

MR COUNTRY CLUB HIMSELF

Mark my words if Rafe does not become a Pogue by the end of season 4 he will die sacrificing his life for them with his final words laying in Sarah’s arms saying

“ I finally did something right”

( if I am completely wrong just forget I ever existed 🤣🤣)

LETS BE HONEST Ward created a monster with rafe. But rafe mistakes EAT HIM UP ALIVE which is why he is heavy on drugs. I still remember him crying because Barry didn’t have any coke for him one day and he freaked out. Rafe is a lunatic but not a serial killer. Which is why he went back to save Ward after putting a hit man on him. Rafe wants real acceptance! His problem is he always tries to fix his mistakes last minute.

Rafe isn’t a kook because of the luxury lifestyle. He’s a kook because of power and validation. Unlike topper who is a silver spoon fed kid with no siblings. Just a spoiled single child.

If the JJ and rafe fight happens. I think it’s early in the season. I don’t think they’ll make it a big ordeal. I feel like the Pogue gang will have bigger fish to fry by the end of the season if they’re on a new treasure hunt.

OK, please rip my response to shreds with your thoughts, I’m all ears.

Look at what this stupid little boat show has done to us 🥲

oooooh okay this is such an interesting topic, Rafe is such an interesting character to begin with, so i think his storyline in s4 is the one i'm most curious about. especially since we got nothing from him in the s3 finale for whatever dumb reason.

this is a very complex conversation to have, but to start, i don't think i want a redemption for Rafe! and i think they kind of closed the door on him sacrificing himself for the pogues or Sarah in particular by having Ward do it in season 3. i truly don't know how far they're gonna go with him seeking revenge on the pogues for Ward's death, or what they plan on doing with his character after this season, but whatever it is, i just don't see him turning a new leaf by the end of it. the ending for Rafe i'd most like to see is him going to jail and losing all of his assets and possessions, including Tannyhill, so Pope can snatch it up and make it a museum that tells the true story of Denmark Tanny. but i'm getting ahead of myself, let's talk about the really juicy stuff

do Rafe's actions eat him up anymore? i definitely agree that in the first 2 seasons, he was an absolute wreck trying to hold himself together with coke and by desperately seeking Ward's validation to keep himself occupied. but what about in season 3? he has that scene with Kie in episode 2 where he tries to paint himself as the victim for killing Peterkin, and i think that his denial truly runs that deep at this point. through spinning the story in his own mind, he's convinced himself that he did the right thing so he doesn't have to feel all the complicated emotions that we saw him feeling at the end of season 1 and even into season 2 in the aftermath of the murder. but in terms of Sarah, he does actually get emotional when he explains that he knows it was wrong, which is incredibly interesting to me. he clearly hasn't done the same mental gymnastics in trying to defend himself for that, so i could definitely see him genuinely feeling remorseful, which opens up that same incredibly complex dynamic that he and Sarah have had for a while now. there's a part of him that will always resent her for being Ward's favorite for so long, but now we can see that there is real guilt about trying to kill her. i think that scene really captures the pure instability of Rafe's mental state that still exists in some capacity, mainly in terms of Sarah, which we unfortunately don't see a ton of moving forward in the season since he barely has any scenes with the pogues. in general, he actually seems pretty confident and secure, maybe the best we've ever seen him, in terms of his mental and emotional state. so is the guilt really bothering him that much? the coke doesn't seem to be a coping mechanism for him like it had been before, like he was constantly using for the majority of season 2. but we just didn't see him struggling with his past actions in season 3, it was much more about his present and especially his future.

but for season 4, i'm definitely expecting a return to the more unstable side of Rafe as he plots revenge. who will he target in particular? who does he think is most responsible? will he choose to leave the other pogues out of the crossfire? if he gets the chance to kill Sarah again, would he take it? if he really was remorseful at the beginning of season 3, has that been overtaken by rage by the beginning of season 4? the year and a half time jump makes this much trickier cause maybe he's been trying to keep his mind off of it and do his own thing and resist the urge to get revenge but when he hears about the pogues getting recognition for their findings, it sends him off the deep end again? or has he been stewing the entire time? has the time given his rage the chance to simmer down a bit or has it only boiled over into something worse? now that he has the blessing of his father, which is the only thing he's ever really wanted, what are his motivations? how will he shift his way of thinking now that there's no more Ward to aspire to or to spite, and how will his mental state fare now that he believes that the pogues have taken away any opportunity he might've had to mend his relationship with his father?

there's truly so many things to consider and countless different avenues that his path could take, and i really do not know what is most likely at this point!! Drew hasn't even gotten to set yet so there's absolutely no bts to speculate about either. personally, i love Rafe as a character and i don't wanna see him killed off, and like i said before, although he expresses remorse in 3x02, i'm not sure if it's gonna be enough moving forward. i've always been interested in his character and have never shied away from the fact that Ward absolutely aided in fucking him up for life, BUT i just don't know if Rafe himself thinks he needs redeeming. and i especially don't know if he'll be thinking in that way in the aftermath of Ward's death.

but really, who knows???? i'm voting squarely against a redemption or any kind of sacrifice, but god, i am so so so intrigued to see where the pates take him.

this was really fun to think about and i could probably ramble on for way way way longer, but this is long enough already!!! thanks for sparking up the discussion! ☺️

[fcdcdmcmories]

"AND WHO WAS THAT? CAN'T SEEM TO RECALL. MAYBE I FORGOT IT AFTER EVERYTHING ELSE." he knew that doing this was shitty. he knew that doing this was not who he wanted to be in the slightest, but.. the words just stumbled right out and there didn't seem to be a way to stop. damn it. especially because of the fact that he was .. mad. not just mad - the anger seemed to have faded a little bit thanks to his talk with evernever, but .. he was mostly sad. confused. "... you should cherish him. really. i was.. pretty damn mad and he gave me an earful and reminded me of a lot of things that it seems i had forgotten. SOMETIMES.. THAT'S ALL THAT YOU CAN DO WHEN IT COMES TO THE PEOPLE WHO LOVE YOU. CHERISH THEM." he looked down, sadness passing through his expression for a second. was that what he had wanted .. once upon a time? maybe. "nah, i.. i think that i've had my fill of that for a long time. trying the new single guy who goes on random stupid, meaningless dates every now and then and forgets all about them by next day. WHO KNOWS? MAYBE IT WILL WORK FOR ME." was that his own attempt of a joke? yes, it was, even if.. it was a stupid one. this had never been what he had wanted. no, no, what he had wanted was to be with her. maybe it still was. ".... IT'S NOT A CRIME, BUT.. YOU ALSO CAN'T BLAME ME FOR SECOND GUESSING EVERYTHING THAT YOU'VE EVER TOLD ME, CAN YOU? you know, since most of it turned out to be a lie?" it was good to know that this wasn't. it was good to know that.. maybe, there was a part of her that cared abut him. that wanted him to live. it was a relief to know that .. not all of it had been a lie. right? scoffing, he shook his head. "right. you just omitted the truth from me and went right back to screwing your boyfriend," he didn't want to roll his eyes at that and yet, he did. how could she not see the truth when it was standing right there? "but you used to be. good at this, i mean. things used to be so.. simple between us. remember? there were no stupid questions asked. no lies. we just .. we were just happy together. it made sense. WE MADE SENSE." when had things gotten so complicated between the two of them, he wondered? had things always been like this and he had just been too busy being in love with her to see it? ".. yeah and look how that turned out. somehow, it made things even worse. i never.. i never wanted you to be better or any stupid shit like that, you know? I WANTED YOU. THE CECILIA THAT I FELL IN LOVE WITH. who's been my best friend, my partner in crime, my better half throughout.. all these years. or so .. SO I THOUGHT."

he coughed, attempting to hide the tears that had just clouded his vision, before shaking his head. he couldn't do this. not here. not right now. not with her. "but it wasn't me, was it? that freed you from him. do you even remember when i went to see you there? it was.. the hardest thing i've ever done in my life. leaving you there.. it killed me. it killed me, leaving my stupid fucking jacket there and walking away, even if.. even if i should have damned it all and brought you with me.I HAVEN'T FORGIVEN MYSELF ABOUT NOT DOING SO TO THIS DAY. none of that matters, right? it was him. your fucking hero. i guess that when you think about it like that, it makes a lot of sense, doesn't it? HE SAVED YOU SO.. WHAT? YOU FELT LIKE YOU OWED HIM ONE? was that it?" he didn't want to cry. not right here and not in front of her but.. right now, his throat was burning up and his vision was clouded and he was so damn fucking sad that he wanted to.. "i'm not the one here who's been mocking the other, am i? how many times have you and your boyfriend had a laugh at my expense? parker, the idiot? parker, the love sick fool? PARKER, THE STUPID LAPDOG? hm? and oh, i'm sorry. does it bother you that i have friends? people who actually want to be around me?" which was the case and no, he still didn't believe it that it was when it came to her. crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly, he sat down, glaring in her direction for a second. "NOW WHERE HAVE I HEARD THAT BEFORE.." pulling his shirt over his head brought an immense sense of deja vu, as he was reminded of the last time that he had done such a thing in front of her. cheeks turning red, he looked down. had it been that little ago? it seemed like forever now. "well, go on, doc. i'm sure we both have about a million other people we'd rather be with right now, don't we?" he didn't. (@xtinyslip)

CECILIA HAD TO FIGHT THE URGE TO ROLL HER EYES AT HIS LUDICROUS COMMENT. "how convenient that you suddenly can't remember anyone else who saw your potential. hm?" oh, she should have simply let it go but no; that was not who she was in the slightest. besides, she was sick of all the who hurt who more nonsense. no one was innocent here or perhaps, that was her attitude because she had apparently been the one to make a complete MESS of things. "i know. it's a strange feeling, you know? i almost don't know what to do with it." the fact that she had a family member that cared... after her mother had died, it had been nothing but a shit show if they were honest. "his wife is quite a one." cecilia was trying to be polite but she knew a manipulative bitch when she saw one. not that she thought evelyn stood a chance at manipulating her uncle but clearly, she liked to try it with everyone else. "but i think you could take her." the joke fell flat but at least she'd attempted to continue it on which was more than she'd wanted to do. "why? what does that mean; why?" was it not as obvious as she hoped? or was he being difficult? hm, she supposed she deserved that. "you should know by now i don't do GUILT." true. well, for the most part. the things she'd done? forced it or not; she'd still done them. if she allowed herself to acknowledge guilt it would eat her alive. "i'm doing this for you. to help you. we came further than we ever have to being able to have what we want... i want you to be alright. why is that suddenly such a fucking crime?" seriously? this was the issue; was there anything she could get right with them? honestly? she'd put on such a SHOW for gabi, she had really blown it out of the park and still the stupid, stupid girl had to go and ruin it. why? oh, for sure was she waiting for his answer. "i didn't lie. i --" did he really not understand? because it almost felt like she was hanging on by a thin thread here and this could make her SNAP. "what part of that did i ever accuse you of not wanting or feeling those things?" he was taking all of this the wrong way and she didn't know how to say it, she didn't know how to explain it to him that would make him see it right. "I WANTED, not you, me. I WANTED to try my hardest to be my best self with you. i've never been very good at this," because she had never really allowed to be before. "i was trying to imply i knew you deserved better from me, that you are the only person i wanted to try for." cecilia almost looked... confused. oh, she was incredibly intelligent but not with emotions. had she really said it that wrong for him to take what she'd said as an insult? that had not been her intention. her trying to do this, her trying to be in a happy relationship was the joke her father constantly reminded her it was. she hated that, that he was right. i really never knew you at all, did i? ouch. was that true? she sucked in a sharp breath, fighting the urge to spit back a painful comment because she could. "let's hope that's not true, hm? or we all wasted a lot of time and energy freeing me from him." if parker didn't know her? if that was an implication that he was all the things her father said? well, what a waste of time this truly had been. "i'm almost impressed..." with how spiteful and ridiculous that comment about valentina had been. "what was it you were trying to achieve? do you want me to cry? so you can mock me to your new friends?" she tilted her head. well, was it? "because you should know like hell would i ever do that in front of you again." did she want to cry? possibly but she was tired and this was totally fucking with her head and she hated every second of it. when he sat down, she just stayed where she was. contemplating whether she actually wanted to help him or strangle him for that comment. he was lucky she was too damn exhausted to see red but that would come and it wouldn't be him who paid for it. "remove your shirt. i need to check your blood pressure." @fcdcdmcmories

[thaisibir]

Guess who just got into playing Bayonetta on the switch and is loving the hell out of it (and her)?

[stylesloveclub]

Pleasing (jealous blurb)

In which another waiter flirts with y/n, and Harry gets really jealous.

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚  ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

Y/n stands in front of Harry, dressed in an oversized apron and a silly little chef's hat that she’d found discarded in his pantry.

“Tonight,” Harry announces, “we’re going to make a simple honey-garlic glazed salmon, served on white rice with a side of roasted vegetables. Do you have all your ingredients prepared?”

His kitchen island is covered with all the necessary materials that she might need for the cooking session that Harry’s planned for them. “Yes, chef!” she salutes.

Considering how he’s one of the world’s best chefs and she’s a college student who only ever goes into her kitchen to boil water for her cup of noodles… he thought it’d be cute if he planned a little cooking lesson for her. He’s chosen a meal on the rather simple side – fish is quick to cook and takes very little prepping, and rice is a food that even a child could make. Paired with a healthy variety of vegetables, this is the perfect meal that he thinks y/n should learn to cook for herself so that she wouldn’t be living off of frozen meals anymore.

He rolls his eyes at her silly behavior. “This isn’t Hell’s Kitchen, puppy.”

“I dunno,” she contemplates. “You’re giving Gordon Ramsey vibes right now.”

“Except m’not gonna yell at you and make you cry.” He steps forward and cups her face tenderly, looking into her pretty eyes, his gaze filled with adoration and care. “Just want you to be able to make yourself something other than a frozen pizza.”

She smiles cutely, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss him sweetly. His eyes flutter shut momentarily, reveling in her soft kiss. “You’re so sweet,” she murmurs against his lips. “M’ready to learn. Tell me what to do.”

He pulls away. “Preheat the oven to 425. Do you know how to do it, or do you want me to show you?”

She rolls her eyes. “I know how to turn on an oven.”

“Hey miss sassy, just asking!” He steps back in surrender. “I’ll get the vegetables ready while you do that, then.” He grabs their carrots, cauliflower, zucchini, and sweet potatoes (all veggies that y/n had picked out when they’d gone grocery shopping together), and runs them under the water to rinse them clean.

Meanwhile, y/n stands in front of his oven, a furrow between her brows. In her shitty little kitchen at her apartment, the oven just has one panel where you enter the temperature you want, and then a single button to “Start.” Harry, however, has two ovens stacked on top of each other, with a bunch of complicated settings. Did it matter if they used the top oven or the bottom oven? Were they baking or broiling? Convection on or off?

“Um, Harry…” She looks at him helplessly, tail between her legs. “I don’t know how to work this.”

He shakes his head and chuckles, drying the rinsed vegetables off. “I thought you knew how to turn an oven on?”

“Okay well your oven is stupid and fancy,” she gripes, crossing her arms as he saunters towards her cockily.

He stands behind her, leaning over her shoulder so that his front presses against her back as he adjusts the settings. One of his hands rests gently on her shoulder as he murmurs in her ear, “Press top oven, then bake. Then you press start once and put in 425, then press it again and it’ll start heating up.”

She grumbles once more, Harry hovering behind her with a satisfied smirk. “What next?”

“Need to cut the vegetables.”

“Okay, I can do that!”

“No, no…” Harry stops her as she reaches for the huge knife that he’d set out on the cutting board. This knife is meant for professionals, sharp enough to cut through a piece of paper in midair. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

She pouts at him. “Harryyy,” she whines. “Let me help!”

“You are helping! You can make the sauce right now, baby, that’s the most important part,” he coos reassuringly, “Let me do the cutting though, don’t want you to cut your fingers or anything. The knife is just a bit too big for you.” He presses a soft kiss to her fingertips as he says it, re-emphasizing how delicate and precious she is to him. “Okay?”

“Okay,” she agrees softly. She can’t help but melt into a puddle when he takes that soft tone with her, talking down to her sweetly and making her feel all fuzzy inside. Of course she’ll listen to him! Especially when he kisses her fingertips so softly like that!

“Good girl,” he praises. “Can you get the honey and mix it with some lemon juice?”

She nods, mixing the ingredients into one bowl and whisking them until the honey is no longer as thick and sticky as it initially was, watered down by the acidic lemon juice. She looks at Harry expectantly, who’s cutting the carrots into bite sized pieces at the cutting board, waiting for the next instructions. “I put some butter to melt in the microwave,” he says, “could you take it out and add it to your sauce?”

She does that as well, then adds some garlic and pepper flakes as instructed by Harry, whisking it together until she has a rich sauce sitting in front of her.

“That’s gonna be for the salmon, so you can set it to the side for now.” He brings a big bowl of chopped vegetables and sets it in front of y/n. “Now we’ve got to toss these with some oil so it doesn’t burn in the oven. And some seasoning, obviously.” He lets y/n add the salt and pepper, and adds a generous drizzle of oil, before showing y/n how to toss it all together so that each piece gets evenly coated. Then, together they spread the veggies out on the baking tray. By this point the oven has preheated all the way, and is ready for the veggies to go in.

“Let me do it,” y/n says when Harry opens the oven.

He looks at her hesitantly, but she pouts up at him with her cute, puppy dog face. The one that gets her whatever she wants, the one Harry can’t say no to. “Fine. But wear some oven mitts.”

After the veggies go in the oven, Harry does most of the remaining work. He massages their salmon fillets with the sauce that y/n made (which he makes sure to compliment, tasting a bit of the sauce and telling her how yummy it is and how nicely she made it), then puts them on a baking pan right underneath the veggies. “We put the vegetables in first because they need 40 minutes in the oven, more or less. The fish, however, needs to come out of the oven in exactly 15 minutes, or else it’ll be dry. Got it?”

She nods from where she’s positioned herself on his kitchen counter, watching him wash his hands. He slots himself to stand between her legs, hands resting on her spread thighs. “What do you think?” he asks, “Easy enough to make on your own?”

She wraps her arms around his neck. “Yeah, I think I could do it. Don’t think it’ll be as good as when you make it though,” she pouts.

He kisses her cheek. “I’ll always cook for you when we’re together. This is only for when I’m away. What did you eat when I was in Milan?”

“Um… a lot of bagels. And dino nuggets.”

He holds in his gag, imagining the sad, soggy nuggets that she must’ve been having for dinner when he wasn’t there to make her gourmet meals. “Exactly. You need to be able to make yourself some nutritious meals for when I’m not here to cook for you.”

Her fingers curl into the hair at the back of his head, staring up at him sweetly. She can’t believe she somehow snagged a guy who cared this much about her, who would spend his weekend teaching her how to cook vegetables so that she had something healthy to eat when he wasn’t with her.

She’s just about to lean in for a kiss when her phone rings, interrupting their little moment. Harry steps away from his spot between her legs, letting her hop down from the counter and rush to her phone.

“Hi!!,” she says to whoever’s on the other side of the phone, one of her friends from college from what he can tell. Her voice is sweet and sugary, like always.

Harry leans on the counter, crossing his arms across his chest as he watches her with a fond smile. She bites mindlessly at her cuticles as she listens to what her friend is telling her, and he stops himself from walking over to pull her hand away from her mouth. Her nail biting habit is one that he’s trying to break, not a fan of the way she sometimes makes her pretty hands bleed from how often she bites at them.

“When are you going?” y/n asks on the phone, pacing from one side of the kitchen to the other. “Today? Oh… no, I don’t think I can come. I’m…um, I’m at my friend's house.” She stutters over her words as she tries to figure out how to word it, very clearly avoiding name dropping Harry, or even hinting that she’s at a guy’s house.

It makes Harry’s brows furrow. She’s at her friend’s house? Friend? He doubts she gets on her hands and knees and begs to get fucked by her other friends.

In his head, they were in a relationship. She was his, and he was hers. No questions asked.

He cares for her quite deeply, if it wasn’t obvious, and for the most part believed that she felt the same way. So he wonders… why would she avoid calling him more than just a friend? Did her friends even know that she was seeing someone, or did she not even want to call whatever they have going on as “seeing each other?”

The oven timer goes off before he can question her about it.

A conversation for later, he supposes.

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚  ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

“Hey, y/n!”

Harry’s ears perk up when he hears her name, being called from down the hallway.

“What’s up, Jason?” she responds, bright and bubbly. She’s always like that at work, no matter how dragging her shift may be. He thinks that’s why the staff like her so much – she’s a drop of sunshine right in the middle of their restaurant.

“How are you doing?” he asks, smiling down at her and crossing his arms in a way that he hopes makes his biceps bulge attractively. Jason is another one of the waiters at Pleasing, a college student just like y/n. They’d once bonded over the fact that they go to the same university, but he majors in business, which is completely unrelated to what she studies.

“Oh, good! Same old, same old,” she huffs cheerily, waving her hand in the air as if she were waving away her troubles. “V’got a huge party coming in at 8, you know how that is.” Having a table of seven people is always a struggle… larger parties tend to stay at the restaurant for up to 4 hours, ordering a bunch of extra drinks and sweets until they’re practically kicked out of the restaurant. Y/n dreads the thought of how much she’ll be running around, trying to keep up with seven people’s orders, and how late she’ll be stuck here. If they’re coming in at 8… christ she might not get home until 1 in the morning. She wonders if Harry’ll be willing to wait for her so that they could still drive home together.

“Damn, that sucks,” Jason hisses sympathetically. “You know… how about I talk to Alfredo and see if we could switch tables?”

“Oh, don’t be silly Jason! You’re basically done for tonight, didn’t you just get the bill for your last table?”

“I mean– yeah, but I insist.” He smiles down at her charmingly, “you work so hard, I think you deserve to go home early tonight, yeah? Let me take care of your tables.”

Harry decides he’s heard enough. He stands from his desk, brows furrowed and steps out into the hallway, where he sees his y/n, smiling up at this silly college boy. It grinds his gears, jaw clenching and fingers fisting at his sides.

“Jason. Y/n.” he snaps. Their smiles are instantly ripped off their faces, the two employees straightening up as soon as they hear Harry’s stern voice. “What are we standing around for? Don’t you have tables to attend to?”

“Apologies, chef,” Jason says, at the same time y/n murmurs out a soft, “Sorry Mr. Styles.” She looks at him sadly, seemingly wounded by the harsh tone of his voice, and it takes everything in him not to melt at the sight of her sad puppy eyes.

“Get back to work,” he grits out harshly, turning on his heel.

He steps into his office, and slams the door behind him.

“What a miserable old prick, am I right?” Jason murmurs to y/n to lighten the moment, when he thinks Mr. Styles can no longer hear them. She doesn’t respond.

Harry doesn’t know how to interpret her silence.

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚  ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

There’s a quiet, timid knock at Harry’s office door.

“Mr. Styles?” Y/n steps in nervously, shutting the door behind her.

Harry looks up momentarily, then back down at his paperwork. He ignores her.

“Harry?” she tries again. Again, he says nothing. His brows are furrowed as harshly scribbles something out on his paper, but it’s not his usual concentrated furrow. He seems upset.

“What’s wrong?” she pries, stepping closer to his desk. When he once again doesn't even glance up at her, she huffs. “Why are you ignoring me?”

He stops writing, his blue pen halting mid-word on his paper, before speaking slowly. “How do you think I feel, when I see you entertain that stupid boy’s flirting?”

She pouts, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Flirting? I… I haven’t been flirting with anyone?” she says quizzically, confused by this random accusation.

He scoffs, finally looking up at her. “I know you’re not that stupid, puppy.”

She blinks at him, still confused.

“That boy– Jason.” he grumbles. “He’s so clearly flirting with you.”

“Jason?” she asks again.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed it.”

“I– well… he’s just being nice,” y/n explains, as if Harry’s a child throwing a tantrum. “You’re overreacting.”

He blinks at her, processing her words. Overreacting. As if everyone in the kitchen hasn't noticed the way Jason stares at y/n's ass whenever she bends down, or how he's always falling behind on his tables trying to talk to her! Could she really not have noticed?

He shakes his head in disbelief. “Fine, whatever.” He looks back down at his paperwork.

The audacity of this man, she thinks to herself, to ignore her like a fucking five year old. “He offered to cover my tables, that’s it–” she continues to explain, but he cuts her off.

He holds in the urge to explode. “I dropped it,” he grits out instead. “I suggest you do the same.”

In his head, he's envisioning every single way that Jason's ever looked at y/n weirdly, all the instances in which Jason's flirted with her, asked her if she has a boyfriend. But, if she’s going to ignore the way Jason was smiling at her, standing so close to her, offering to do favors for her... then there’s no point in him trying to fight it.

He’s just a friend to her, anyways.

“Leave me. I have work to finish,” he mutters coldly.

He starts writing, and she feels her heart break a little bit.

“Yes sir,” she murmurs, voice thick as she steps out of his office.

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚  ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

The rest of her shift is dull.

Jason doesn’t end up taking her table, since Mr. Styles had yelled at them and scared him off, so she’s up on her feet, constantly buzzing from the dining room to the kitchen, heart heavy with every step.

Every time she goes down the hallway, past Harry’s office door, she feels resentment building up in her chest. How dare he? Accuse her of flirting with someone else, when she was literally just doing her job, then ignoring her and kicking her out of his office like she’s some stray puppy annoying him for some food.

God, the fucking nerve! Was she supposed to just stop being nice to people to appease Harry’s jealousy? How could anyone in their right mind think offering to cover someone’s tables is a method of flirting?

“Psst.” She’s snapped out of her rage by Grace poking at her shoulder. “Jason wanted me to give you this.”

She looks down at the small piece of paper Grace holds out to her. “What is it?” She opens it up, and finds 10 digits written down in scrawny, boyish handwriting. A phone number.

Grace smiles at her teasingly. “He asked me if you’re single. He’s super into you, said he’s been trying to drop hints ever since you got hired but you’re always too busy to notice.”

Oh, she realizes, heart dropping. Harry was right.

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚  ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

She stays behind after the restaurant closes, hoping to get a moment alone with Harry. He hasn’t left his office at all tonight, not even to check on the chefs when one of them burnt some bread in the toaster. As everyone packs up their stuff, closes up their stations, and leaves, y/n stays in the staff room.

Only once everyone has left does she head to his office.

The light from under his door is the only thing lighting up the dark hallway. She knocks softly, but enters without waiting for him to say “come in.”

He looks up, slightly startled. He thought he was the only one left in the building. His tense shoulders relax when he realizes it’s just y/n.

His hair is mussed, curly tendrils sticking every which way as if he’d been raking his fingers through it every five minutes, tugging at his roots frustratedly. “What is it?” he asks. His eyes are red and stressed too… he’s never looked this tired.

“Jason asked me out,” she says, fingers wringing behind her back nervously. Harry freezes. His shoulders tense and his heart stops.

“Oh.” He puts his pen down and looks up at her. “Are you going to say yes?” he asks lightly, no indication of the turmoil in his stomach.

“Jesus Harry,” she breathes, confused and shocked by his words. “No, why would I? Why would you even think that?”

He shrugs. “Makes more sense for you to be dating a college kid. Someone who goes to school with you, who you can tell your friends about.” His words slowly reveal his insecurities, that he’s older than her, boring and something that she might be ashamed of. “Better than dating some miserable old prick, isn’t it?”

“Harry…” she trails off softly. “I’m– I’m not the slightest bit interested in Jason. Or anyone else.” She looks up at him with round eyes, her voice growing shy, “only… only you.”

“Well then, why–” he cuts himself off, trying to formulate his words in his head. He shakes his head at himself, frustrated, and stares at the table. ““The other day, when you were at mine… you told your buddies that you were at a ‘friends’ house.” He looks up at her sadly, “It was like you were trying to keep us a secret. Like you didn’t want them to know you were… seeing someone.”

Her breath hitches in her throat as he continues, “If you don’t want t’tell your friends, then how am I supposed to know that we’re… exclusive? It made me feel like– like you didn’t think this was as serious as I did.”

“No,” she breathes, “no, you’ve got it all wrong.”

She walks around his desk to stand in front of him. He rolls his chair back, and she situates herself on his lap, straddling him and holding onto his face. “I didn’t tell them because… well we just haven’t talked about it, have we?” Her eyes flicker with insecurity as she rubs her delicate fingers over his cheekbones, his stubble rough against the skin of her pretty hands. “Because… well what if I went around telling people that I’m your girlfriend, and you didn’t want that? What if I’m just some clingy kid who just self-proclaimed myself as your girlfriend?”

He holds her wrist gently, keeping her hands pressed against his cheek. “Baby...” he murmurs delicately.

“I was worried that maybe you didn’t want to call it the same thing I did,” she continues sadly. “I– I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“Puppy… I thought you knew,” he cups her jaw and looks into her eyes so earnestly that she feels her heart swell. “Thought you knew that you’re mine, that m’obsessed with you.” He nudges his nose against hers softly, “Don’t care what you call it, as long as you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” she whispers back with a smile. “Nobody else’s.”

“I… I got so sad when I saw him flirting with you,” he admits shyly. “Thought he was gonna steal you away.”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve–”

“S’not your fault, puppy. You’re too sweet to even notice it, always wanna see the best in people.” He chuckles to himself warmly, caressing her cheek softly, “precious little thing.”

“Well, if it helps,” she says, leaning her face towards his touch, “I texted him and said I’m not interested. Told him that I’m seeing someone,” her eyes glimmer happily, “and that it’s pretty serious.”

His eyes grow warm and a grin spreads on his face, “good… yeah, that’s good.” With one hand cupping her jaw and another on her waist to hold her steady on his lap, he leans in for a kiss, slotting their lips together and fluttering his eyes shut.

* 。˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。 * 。 • ˚  ˛ 。* 。• ° 。* 。 • ˚

When they get home, it’s all soft touches and warm words.

He’s so happy, a warm feeling bubbling in his stomach at the idea that y/n is his… that she’s his girlfriend, or whatever you want to call it. It’d been so long since he felt like this, so long since he’d been in a serious, real relationship. It made him giddy. He felt like he was 12 years old, kissing a girl for the first time all over again.

He pulls her into his bedroom before she even has the chance to put her stuff down, taking her bag from her and stripping her of her clothes. He unbuttons her blouse slowly, kissing her softly as he fiddles with each button, and unzips her skirt, letting it fall to the floor. He guides her hands up to his shirt, so that she could do the same– undress him, kiss him, run her hands up and down his bare chest the way he’s doing to the soft skin of her back.

He places her on his bed gently, hovers over her and kisses all over her, just worshiping her. He kisses her face, her cheeks, her lips, down her neck, over her breasts, and along her stomach. He kisses her core, licks and sucks somehow romantically, until she’s cumming on his tongue, whimpering his name softly and arching her back towards him. Her hands touch all over his body, skimming over his muscular back and gripping his shoulders as he comes back up to kiss her.

He lines himself up with her, and pushes in one smooth, gentle stroke. Her legs wrap around his hips, and he rocks into her, moaning into her mouth and breathing heavily against her neck.

“Fuck baby,” he whispers, “You’re mine. Mine to touch, mine to fuck, mine to look at.” She moans delicately, opening her eyes and staring up at him with rose-clouded vision. “Say it– tell me you’re mine,” he whimpers.

“Yours,” she whines, “all yours.”

When he cums, he cums inside of her, spurting into her in long, thick streaks that fill her to the brim. He moans softly into her neck, shuddering on top of her, and she caresses her fingers through his hair, kissing all over his face until he pulls out. They lie next to each other, and in her sleepy haze, she whispers out his name.

“If I’m yours, does that mean you’re mine too?” she asks, eyes wide.

He turns towards her and brushes her hair out of her face, “That’s exactly what that means sweetheart.” He kisses her sweetly. “M’all yours."

+++

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[planetsano]

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 𖥔 ⭒ ִ ׂ 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞��� 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 !

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — is it you or her?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — heavy angst, toxic relationship, potential spoilers, one slap, mention of death, arguments, childhood friends to lovers if you squint.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 — ryuuguji “draken” ken.

After all the screaming, the only thing that could be heard was a blaring silence that impregnated the room. There was a dull and uncomfortable ringing that sounded in the ears that didn’t seem to go away no matter how hard you tried to cover your ears. The pitch was coming from you head, mixing in awfully with the echoes of the previous argument that left the atmosphere between them solemn and hostile.

The tension was unmistakable, so thick that you could cut through it with a knife and serve it on a plate. Shards of glass, thrown furniture and decorations had been tossed everywhere. You couldn’t take a step without hearing the crunch of broken glass under your high-heeled shoe as you stood in the kitchen. All this fighting and crying in such a pretty outfit and makeup, on a night that was supposed to be fun. A one year anniversary completely turned to shit over the mention of one name.

You felt lightheaded and sick to your stomach. His face— his handsome, stupid fucking face made you stomach churn. Every single detail. Every lash, every freckle, even down to the pattern biologically engraved on his dark irises. Everything you once loved, you found yourself loathing all within the span of a few hours. It was a chore looking at him and you was certain if you looked at him again you'd be one of the rare cases of people actually dying of heartbreak.

What a pretty way to go. You almost wanted to laugh at the thought but couldn’t bring yourself to do it. If anything, a laugh right now would’ve made things worse with the way the energy in the air. When did everything get like this? You found your inner thoughts asking many questions like how you could let it get this bad? And was everything really your fault in the end? Was there anything you could do about it?

“I can’t ever be her, Ken..” You spoke after what felt like hours, voice completely shot from the previous screaming match moments before.

“I know.” Draken sighed, his large rubbing his face out of frustration? Fatigue? Maybe a combination of both.

“When did you stop loving me? Did you ever—” You couldn’t even get your sentence out before his tall and built figure rushes towards you, grabbing your flushed and sniveling face with one hand. He squishes your cheeks and his fingers then dig into the soft skin of your face.

“I always loved you, don’t— don’t fucking do that to me,” Draken says, his eyes slightly unhinged as he speaks. He’s shaking, seething with anger actually but he has self-control. He won’t hurt you and you both know that the most you’d get from him was a face shove and even so, that was rare. But what was he supposed to do when you're kicking and scratching at him. You can't listen to words when you got like that.

“Then why— why are you using me? Why am I the one who has to be the replacement?” You ask, eyes searching for any sign of an answer in his dark irises.

“I told you, I didn’t mean to call you by her name..” Draken lets go of your face and takes a step back, irritation heavy on the handsome features of his face.

“And that makes it okay? Because it was an accident?” You laugh at the end of your sentence.

“I love y—” Draken can’t finish his sentence before his face is turned to the side from the impact of the slap you landed on his cheek. It stings your own hand, the feeling rippling through the nerves on your hand.

“Fuck you, Ken.” You spit harshly.

“Yeah,” he chuckles and shakes his head, a look on his face that says he’s over this back and forth. “Fuck me.” He starts to make his way out of the mess that is the kitchen until your voice stops him in his tracks.

“If she was still here.. who would you pick?” You asked softly, tears brimming in your eyes when you started at his back.

“Don’t ask shit for answers you don’t wanna hear,” He says calmly over his shoulder. “We’ll talk when you’re not a fuckin’ spaz..” He exits the kitchen, already on his way up the stairs.

“I hope you die.” You say quietly. “I hate you! I fucking hate you!” Draken can hear your screams of anguish from all the way up the stairs, and yet all he can do is sit on the edge of your shared bed, elbows resting on his knees with his hands gripping at the roots of his hair. His mind wandered off to when you were both just kids.

“Come on, (Name).. Why are they frilly and girly lookin’?” Draken groaned at the Hello Kitty band aids (Name) was about to put on his bleeding knee scrapes. She looks at him with furrowed brows and a pout, intense but childishly cute fire in her eyes as she looks at the young boy. Her cheeks are puffed.

“They’re gonna to help you! It doesn’t matter how they look! Now, stop being a crybaby!” She scolded as her little hands opened the paper packaging of the aid before she gently placed it on his knee.

Draken can’t hide his blush at her care, his tummy fluttering with butterflies as he watches her work so intently. The feeling was so new, he'd never known anything to feel quite like this, but even so, he continues to watch her quietly. (Name) opens the last band aid and goes to put it on the cut on his cheek that carried so much baby fat he hadn't lost yet. But, he stops her with a gentle grab of the wrist. She gives him a confused look.

“Wait.. what about you?” He asked, noticing that she was still bleeding on her own leg. Quite badly too. It was the only cut she had but hers seemed like it was way more severe than the few of his own.

“Nuh-uh,” She shook her head cutely. “I’ll be fine! I care about you more, Ken!” She brushed it off quickly, but her voice was completely genuine. Draken felt.. strange.. but it felt good. Since that day, he always found himself wanting to be near her or worrying about her even when she wasn't around.

That was the day Draken knew he fell in love with you. A soul so selfless that you'd be willing to help others over your own self. He watches a tear fall from his eye and stained the carpet below with a single water droplet. Things were complicated but he's never once doubted his love for you. He wishes he could go back to that day and relive it with you. When things were sweet at could be taken at face value.

“What happened to us?” He asks himself quietly. Draken wants to fix things, but he doesn't know how and for the first time in his life, he wants to run away.

© ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO PLANETSANO/REKIRI. DO NOT MODIFY, EDIT, OR REPOST.

[redhairedwolfwitch]

Follow the Sound of My Voice - Legacies x Noralise!Daughter!Reader

The Story of My Life

B/m/n = biological mother’s name

A/n: Welcome to the circus.

"I hate the circus." Lizzie grumbled as she and Hope approached the travelling entertainment.

"Oh, good. This is a carnival!" Hope replied with a smirk.

"No, you're right, that's so different- how did Y/n already get in there? And she bought snacks too? If we see a clown, I'm out of here." Lizzie replied, gesturing to how you were already past the ticket booths and looking over the snack wares.

You were too far away and enjoying the snack options to hear Hope reinforce the reminder of the sirebond on Lizzie, or the rest of their conversation.

Your mothers glanced around as they walked around the carnival, raising an eyebrow every so often at something that caught their eye.

///

"Consider this to be Vampire 101-"

"And Y/n, you're going to let her just walk around the carnival whilst we do these stupid tests?" Lizzie interrupted, frowning as Hope's eyes immediately found you.

"Y/n can always find me, and she's a fool, so she won't leave without me either." Hope smirked, her eyes gazing over your figure before you turned your head, staring at her with a raised eyebrow from across the carnival grounds.

"She makes it sound like Y/n is the sirebonded one," Nora sighed, folding her arms, "but I suppose Y/n's feelings for Hope mean that she would be if she was turned."

"Remember what I said before? Turning an angel into a vampire desecrates nature." B/m/n replied, humming as she watched you throw heavy balls at metal tins for tickets.

///

"How did Y/n get tickets-" Lizzie exclaimed, spotting you walking around with a stack of tickets in your hands and a smile on your face.

"She's having fun, let her be. Remind me of the score again." Hope ordered, smirking as Lizzie huffed.

"Seven to nothing."

///

"You want me to win you a panda?" Lizzie tilted her head to the side.

"Cute, but Y/n has that covered. I want you to find that vendor's voice. Concentrate..." Hope trailed off, frowning as she could no longer see you in the carnival crowds.

Your mothers shared looks as Hope glanced around, concerned for you.

///

"Y/n? What's going on? Hey, I'm not going to hurt you, are you okay?" Lizzie asked, carefully approaching the little girl crying on a stack of crates.

The girl flinched as she turned around from where you had been kneeling in front of her.

"Someone took my sister."

Passing Lizzie the photo strip that the girl, known as Luna had, you ignored Hope rolling her eyes.

"You believe me?"

"Of course we do. And don't worry, we'll find her. Won't we?" Lizzie glanced between you and Hope.

Nora's eyes softened as she watched you interract with Luna, her fingers entwining with Mary Lou's subconsciously.

"Yeah. Sure we will. Why don't you take that, get yourself some candy floss or something like that, okay? We'll take care of it." Hope's voice was soft, your heart fluttering slightly as memories of the old Hope left your chest aching.

"Helping out random strangers in need is the definition of 'complicated', let's go." Hope tried, but your hand caught her elbow, pulling her back.

"I'm going to find her sister. Don't kill anyone whilst I'm gone." You warned, but Hope leaned in, staring into your eyes with a smirk.

"No promises."

"Let's go, L." You called out, watching as Hope walked away.

"Unfazed by Hope in her face, that's a start." Mary Lou muttered, smiling softly as Nora gently kissed the back of her hand.

///

You grimaced as you walked through the horror tunnel with Lizzie, trying not to flinch at the sound of the chainsaw in your ear as you walked by the maniac holding one.

Lizzie's eyes widened as she spotted the bloody hand on the mirror, feeling you standing behind her, until you weren't.

"Where did Y/n go?" "I didn't see- that stupid zombie got in the way!" "Are you sure the sister is even here still?" Your mothers exclaimed, talking to each other with voices getting louder and louder, over the screams and horror noises of the horror tunnel.

Turning slightly, Lizzie frowned as she opened the secret passage, whispering the spell for a ball of light in her hand as she stepped in. Her face falling at the body on the floor. Bite mark in her neck.

Luna's sister had been fed on and killed.

And you were missing.

Lizzie barely had time to turn around as vervain was injected into her neck, everything falling to black as her eyes and body grew heavy.

"They're vampires." "Carnival vampires? What did they watch Vampire Circus or something? It's a movie from 1972..." B/m/n explained as Nora and Mary-Lou gave her confused looks.

///

"You're not a vampire, like your friends. In fact, I'd think you were just a human carnie, but if it wasn't your smell. No human has ever smelt like that, so... sweet." A vampire dressed as ironically, a vampire smirked, her hand on your neck as she held you up against the wall.

"I wonder if you taste different too." The vampire smiled, her fangs protruding from her gums as she met your gaze.

Your mothers' glared at the vampire, Mary-Lou's hand falling through the vampire's neck as the urge to snap it and kill the vampire hurting you rushed through her.

"You can't handle it." You grunted, moving your hand to grab at the one on your neck.

"We'll see about that." The vampire smirked, pulling you into her as she buried her fangs in your neck. You winced, a squeal leaving your lips as the vampire tried to feed.

B/m/n gagged at the noises, whilst Mary-Lou's face fell into rage and Nora grimaced at the look on your face.

Choking noises were heard next as you dropped to the floor, the vampire spluttering as your blood burned her tongue, her lips smoking slightly.

"What the hell- so damn sweet, it, it burns!" the vampire hissed, gasping at her throat as you watched from the ground.

"What are you?"

"I'm an Angel, bitch." You replied, hand holding your neck wound as the scarlet liquid seeped from the wound.

The door being kicked in was the last thing you heard before the light in your eyes faded.

"Is she-" B/m/n whispered, unable to look as your body grew still. "From blood loss, this time." Nora quietly replied, wishing she could close your eyes as they laid open, staring up into the darkness of the room.

///

"You know I killed Landon and Y/n, right? I was in a dark place and I lost control of my temper. They came back alive, and everyone kind of just, moved on, and I didn't believed I deserved a good outcome, after I did something so terrible." MG explained, stepping closer to Ethan as Ethan turned around to listen.

///

"Y/n, in love with the Tribrid or not, you should not let her walk all over you-"

"Who even are you? And who is Jen, she called you uncle!" You snapped, turning to face Oren.

"Y/n, if you found Jen, you will be safe. It is Ken you have to worry about. My brother." Oren warned, but the light began to fade as your body revived.

///

"Sorry it took so long, we had to hunt down the rest of the carnie vampires, and this one hid you from the others." Lizzie explained as she offered you a hand.

"Why are you both splattered with blood?" You asked, taking Lizzie's offered hand as you glanced over her and Hope.

"Nora, my love, I think we missed some of the show." Mary Louise whined as Nora hummed in disappointment.

"We went hunting." Hope shrugged, smirking as you glared, "don't worry angel, no humans were harmed, so you don't need to get your underwear in a twist."

"Can we please stop talking about underwear?" Lizzie interjected, stuck watching Hope lean closer and closer to you.

///

"And if you see Y/n, or, or Finch, tell them I said hey. Or hi. Or whatever. Only if you see them." Maya rambled as MG raised an eyebrow and Ethan looked constipated.

///

Staring at the ground, you bit your lip as Lizzie compelled Luna to feel more than just grief and sadness about her sister, memories flickering over you as you remembered what Hope said to Lizzie about grief all that time ago.

"Nice work with that compulsion."

You zoned out as Hope and Lizzie had a conversation you didn't think you should be a part of. Until Lizzie asked Hope not to take away the sirebond.

Co-dependency.

"I should open up my own school, but for Tribrids only."

"Hope, you're the only one." Lizzie deadpanned, nudging you to come with as they headed back to Jen's truck.

"Where the hell are they heading off to now?" B/m/n grumbled, ignoring the raised eyebrow of Mary Louise and Nora's smirk. B/m/n was reaching the end of her patience.

///

Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost