#i genuinely don’t know if i can handle all the things happening

[theesteppenwolf]

SPOILERS FOR LUCANIS ROMANCE

So i finished the game yesterday and i have to admit that i am pretty disappointed with how they handled his romance.

It severely lacks in reactivity from him because it really feels like he doesn’t have a response written in to some of the flirting and just continues talking. He has very short scenes and very few outings as opposed to other characters so it never really feels like there is enough happening in the relationship and the moments he does get are very underwhelming save the end game convos and the “backing away from flirting” scene.

His lock in scene was very awkward I was surprised that was the lock in romance scene at all and after that you get absolutely nothing with him. One coffee scene that is about him and spite that has a minuscule ending thing about you and until the end of the game that’s all you get. Even his combat dialogue stays pretty much the same, the stuff added you can’t even tell are romance specific.

If you don’t romance him or Neve they get together and it feels a lot more fleshed out than when he’s with Rook. I stopped having them together because it genuinely started to piss me off and i felt like i was third wheeling it. Even his fade quest implies his interest in Neve and not Rook and as a player romancing him how am i supposed to be completely fine with that?

(I love Neve and am not bashing on here but it was damn annoying)

Now i love his ending convos but the way you get there is dissatisfying to say the least. I filled in so much with headcanons and I shouldn’t have to.

I have to say even without the romance i think his lack of content does him a great disservice, just comparing how much you can talk with davrin or harding is wild. It feels like outside of him liking coffee and being a professional assassin they didn’t really know what to do with him.

Now i would definitely blame the lay offs for this but the fact that they managed to write out his relationship with Neve AND Bellara makes me feel a bit otherwise. And Mary Kirby has stated that she doesn’t like writing romance but the build up to his character really leads to very little.

This is just my little rant because I really do love the game, and when his scenes are good they are REALLY good, i adore his ending conversations but man, it’s just disappointing and frustrating getting there.

There is so much potential and stuff to work with and they just… did nothing. I’ll headcanon a lot and think of the wigmakers job to compensate i guess.

I don’t like being negative online, there is enough of that going around but i wanted to vent.

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

EI rejected my claim and doesn’t say why, and I’m panicked and furious. This could mean I receive no EI support at all this month, and not only do I have rent to pay which takes almost two EI payments alone, I now have school costs as well.

I feel like the world is falling apart around me just as I started to move forward for the first time in eight years.

[milimeters-morales]

okay i might have to start reading comics

[parasolids]

i am having a genuine core memory type of bad day today like serious SERIOUS things are going down and i missed a flight because genuine life changing events are happening and got put on standby for another which got delayed multiple times til i would’ve missed my connecting flight home and anyways it was overbooked so i didn’t make it on, and then now five hours after they left me at the airport im finally heading home and i was like “well at least i can eat the fries i bought that i didn’t get to eat yesterday” but my useless cousin who has not only been completely useless through this weeks long ordeal but has also been making things worse stepped in and ate the whole giant box of fries cause he “thought we were leaving” even though my mom clearly left half her stuff behind at the house and told him we did not make our flight so she was going to stay in town and try and get me home and also this whole situation (except for the fries) is straight up my fault cause i didn’t wanna get out of bed for 20 minutes when we woke up and like normally this would be fine especially since i went to bed at 2 am packing suitcases and then had to wake up at 7 and also slept super poorly anyways but i still have no self discipline and everything has gone wrong because of that

[inbabylontheywept]

she was dead silent on the drive home, but that was okay. sometimes, after band practice, she was just out of words. it was a short drive to her house. the only part where it actually felt weird was after i pulled up her parent’s driveway. 

after that, the silence stretched so far it smeared and left a weird residue. she kept looking at the car door like she wanted to leave, so i looked at the door too, then she looked at me, and i looked at her, and my first thought was that she was going to tell me that the door was stuck. i was used to that car always doing some damn thing. it was the car me and all my siblings had learned to drive in, and it was really beat to hell. there were dents all over the body, which we’d unsuccessfully tried fixing up with spackle. it had looked nice for maybe a week, but then the sun wrecked it - the spackle cracked up like the mud on the bottom of a dry riverbed and turned a sort of off yellow-white that made the car looked like it had been molded out of chicken shit. it also had a bullet hole it through the cabin that whistled like a toothless old man whenever the car went above 40, so loud it could drown out the radio, and a cabin that smelled so strongly of bugspray that even the arizona summer we drove everywhere we could with the windows down.

(if you have kids one day, you will maybe, possibly, begin to understand how much i loved that car.)

anyway, i was thinking about what else could possibly be wrong with the chickenshitmobile, and she just kept looking at me, and then i wondered if there was something on my face, and she just kept looking at me, and then the penny dropped and i realized she was trying to work up the nerve to break up with me. 

now, i’d seen her work up the nerve to do things like this before – it could take quite a while. and knowing it was about to happen made the waiting immediately unbearable. 

so i said hey. 

and she looked at me, very startled, and said hey back real small. like she’d been caught. and in a way, i suppose she had. 

and i said it’s okay. you can just say it. i’ll be okay.

i’m always okay. 

and she said: i’m really sorry. 

i loved her, you know? it was highschool, but teenagers are capable of love. the way people love changes over time just as much as the way they stand, or the way they talk, but things don’t stop existing just because they're different. opposite really – a thing only stops changing when it's fully gone.

and i said, nothing to be sorry for, and i meant it. she looked a little relived, and i was happy to give her that peace. then she left. i watched her make it through the front door, because that was just habit at that point, and then i sat there a while afterwards, checking how i felt. and the answer was not good, but good enough to make it home. good enough to limp on. 

so i put my car in reverse, took my last look goodbye, and immediately backed into her neighbor’s car. 

crunch. 

air bags didn't go off, which was good. i left a decent dent in the bumper of the other car. genuinely couldn’t tell if i did anything to my car – anything wrong with it just kind of blended together into the general ecosystem of hand mottled, sun cracked, chickenshit spackle. 

i checked my glove box, and my car insurance info was, of course, out of date. my phone was dead too. as a teenager, my phone was less my lifeline to my friends, and more my tether to my parents, so i wasn’t particularly conscious of keeping it charged. both my fault.

i sat there a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to handle things, and there was only one answer i could think of, and i hated that answer, so i spent a few more minutes trying and failing to think of a better one, and then a few more coming to peace with what had to be done. 

then i went back to knock on my now ex’s front door. 

her dad opened, which i was very relieved over, even if he seemed less than thrilled. he looked me over, and in a firm, but slightly apologetic way said: she does not want to see you right now. 

(i think he assumed i was going to try and talk her out of the break up?)

and i said not here for her. i just backed into your neighbor’s car, and i need to call my dad, but my phone’s dead. could i borrow yours?

and he looked at me, then back at his neighbors car, which sure enough was dented, then he looked at the chickenshitmobile, and if there was something wrong with it, it just kind of blended into the general Wrongness of the car, then back to me, and i could see him imagining the last ten minutes from my pov: getting broken up with, backing into a car, having to walk up to your exes door and borrow a phone, calling my dad to tell him that i just reversed into someone.  

and his expression shifted from stern and apologetic to truly sad, which felt more kind that i deserved. things only got here because i kept fucking up - forgot to look behind me, forgot to replace the insurance forms, forgot to charge my phone. it was my mess, but his sympathy meant the world to me. i probably would’ve cried if he said sorry, or patted me on the back or called me sport, but instead he said

stay out here – i’ll bring you a phone.

and then he left.  

i found a nice spot on the lawn in the shade under a sycamore, then settled into his grass.i was trying not to freak out, and was doing an okay job. he came out a minute or so later, not just with a phone, but a juicebox and a jar of green olives, which really threw a wrench in the whole try not to cry thing. soon as i saw those, a few tears squoze out. i was still hoping i could pass them off as Manly Tears but then he told me that he’d gotten the olives a few weeks before and had been meaning to hand them off to me, and that this was his last chance for that. then i made a sound like a horse drowning in a bog, and he patted my back pretty rough, four solid thumps, like he wasn't sure if i was crying or choking on an olive, and was trying to cover both bases at once.

then he went back inside, and i made a few more bog horse noises while finishing off the rest of the entire jar of green olives, and then i called my dad.

he was about ten minutes away that day, and luckily was home. he drove over, and we went to the neighbor’s house, and from there things actually went quite nice. the neighbor was a retired man who actually said he could fix the dent himself, no need for insurance. he said he appreciated that i didn't just drive off, and i said i was really sorry about his car, and he said he was really sorry about my car, and then he gestured to the chickenshitmobile and i laughed because it really was a disaster on wheels.

then we left.

i thought we were going to head straight home, but instead we went to a gas station, and we both got several slim jims that we folded into thick enough coils that we could put them on a hotdog bun because the growing up mormon equivalent of having a sad brewski with your dad is just choosing to make bad decisions sober. then he took me to the canals and we watched the sun turn all orange and pink, and he looked over at me and said:

brains are good at remembering bad days. so you gotta make sure that a bad day has a good part in in, so you can remember that too. remember that when you have a kid. try to do a good job on days like that - they're going to be a big part of how they remember you.

and then he gave me a big hug and said he was never going to eat another slim jim again.

---

the year after that i went to college, which kicked my butt in new and exciting ways. and on a lot of those bad days, after a test that went sour, or a faux paus that was particularly embarrassing, or some other hardship of my new adult life, i’d stop by the gas station and pick up leathery, half jerkied hotdog before heading to the canals to watch the sun set. i’d take a bite and imagine my dad next to me, grimacing through the slim-jim wad, asking what good thing i was going use that time to remember. 

and in my head, i’d say you, dad. 

i’m going to remember you.

[ghast1yghosts]

race car driver steve and pit crew eddie

flirting during pit stops. always seems like it’s going to lead somewhere but never does. eventually, as he’s heading to the track, steve tells eddie he’ll take him out *when* he wins. not if.

—

“she handles fine”

“can’t say the same thing about me”

“yeah?”

“hm”

“i think i could handle you”

“you say that to all the crew?”

“just the pretty ones”

—

“all oiled up and ready to go?”

“always for you harrington.

.. oh you mean the car”

“yeah, munson—the car. i already make enough pit stops as is.”

—

“we have a problem.”

“what? why what’s wrong??”

“you didn’t say anything about my outfit”

“…

turn around for me.

it makes your rear view look, *fantastic*”

“call my ass ‘my rear view’ again-“

“HEY! you ASKED THIS TIME”

“YEAH. *THIS TIME*”

—

“that engine isn’t the only thing i’m good at revving up.”

“…is that- are you-“

*shrug*

“UGH. i hate that that worked. that was TERRIBLE.”

“:)”

see, when steve finally gets the guts to actually commit to being serious, to genuinely asking eddie out afterwards, win or not, it goes a little something like this…

“Racers, please make your way to the start line.”

“Eddie?” He walks over as Steve pushes his helmet over his head, flattening his coiffed hair.

“Yeah?”

“After this race, when I win,” Oh, oh, is this going where he thinks it’s going? Is this Steve finally taking a chance on this grease rat? Surely n- “Would you let me take you out for dinner…?”

Eddie blinks at him, staring at his honey-brown eyes boring into him, from the tiny opening in his helmet.

“Yes,” his brain seems to reboot and gather enough coherence to spit out an answer, “Yeah, yes, please.” He can tell Steve smiles at him from the way the corners of his eyes crinkle. “I’d like that.”

“Cool,” Steve snaps his chin strap and tightens it. As he goes to slip on his gloves, Eddie walks up to him. He grabs onto the strap and tightens it himself just to make sure.

“Good luck,” he says, gripping Steve’s shoulder for a moment.

“Don’t need it, but thanks,” playfully snarky, he bends and gets into the car. Eddie laughs at the antics and backs up further into the pit, matching Steve’s cute little wave before he drives away.

For the first time in a long time, Eddie couldn’t care less about winning. He can’t wait for this to be over; the real prize is a long-awaited date.

But, until then, it’s game time.

—

Watching the screen in the pit till the racers turn the corner and come into view. Eddie keeps a close eye on his car—Steve’s kept good pacing most of the leg, leading a few laps, too. He’s due back for a stop soon, but until he can get out of the way of the other racers, they’re too packed for him to make any sort of maneuver. When those cars get like that, Eddie feels like he’s on the edge of a freefall. Not actually, because nothing ever happens, but it feels like something will. Every time.

Besides the scars and a dusty jumpsuit somewhere, that’s the only thing that sticks around from Eddie’s crash. Because that’s what it was, a crash. And a bad one. A side hit that jerked him into another, airborne before rolling, and rolling, and rolling. Getting pulled out, dazed and bleeding, while flames and sirens roared in his ears.

And although there’s more protection and safety precautions now, it still doesn’t make that night any better.

Steve makes another lap. He’s still boxed in close—extremely close. It’s a recipe for disaster, and they all know it.

Eddie’s eyes dart to the pack of cars crossing into his field of vision, and he sees it, someone side hits someone. Someone jerks–and clips 86.

It happens in slow motion. Like becoming untethered—realizing, yeah, you’re in freefall. The world feels like it’s moving at 1/8th the pace. Steve flies over the other drivers and into the catch fences.

Eddie barely registers he’s already moving into the pit track.

86 spins out, absolutely streded to the barebones. Slowing only to get hit again and into the run-off.

“STEVE!” Eddie’s out, running full speed to the remaining inners of the car. Static and ringing fills his ears. He can feel the way his heart is threating to fucking beat out of his goddamn chest. A mantra of “nononononono. not again. not to him,” screaming in his head.

For a speedway packed with people and maxed out speakers, it’s eerily quiet to him. Everything falling away, feeling sureal, like this is some fucked up nightmare—till he gets his hand on the smoking car. Noise comes rushing back all at once, too loud.

“STEVE!” voice gone hoarse, he yells out into the metal. He can see his vision blurring with tears, fear creeping onto him a tenfold. Eddie ducks down and looks into the smashed up window.

“I’m here!” It’s muffled, but at least he can see the dark tracksuit as the source. Eddie frantically reaches for Steve’s hand, and when he gets it clasped in his own, he tugs.

“I’m okay.” A feeble attempt to reassure him, he’ll believe those words from Steve Harrington when he sees it for himself.

Steve coughs as he puts his other hand on the edge of the door and tries to reef himself out. And Eddie tries to help out the best he can. About halfway out, Steve shifts and lets go.

Logically—well, not logically actually, Eddie’s acting on pure adrenaline at this point, all logic out the window—Steve’s just getting his hands under him rather than over, more leverage that way. But Eddie needs. to. get. him. out. of the car that’s currently on fucking fire.

As soon as Steve starts moving again, Eddie’s already wrapped his arms around his chest and is pulling him the rest of the way out. He kneels in front of him and tries to unclasp the strap. Hands so shaky, he can barely get his fingers to push down before gloved hands push them away. While he attempts to help Steve yank his helmet off, it’s feeble. That golden hair flops out, and the helmet gets tossed to the side; Eddie roams his hands over Steve’s face, looking for any visible damage.

Suddenly, warm hands circle his wrists, and Steve makes him meet his eyes.

The world comes bursting back in.

“-ddie? Hey? I’m okay. I’m okay. I promise, I’m okay-“

His face is wet. He’s practically in Steve’s lap, too. One of those hands drop his wrist and cup the back of head.

“Eddie. I’m okay,” Steve says. God, the sound that punches it’s way out of his chest sounds inhuman even in his ears.

There, a few feet away from the pile of rubble, Eddie engulfs Steve in his arms, tucking his face into the neck of old leather. He can feel Steve finally let go of him to give the cameras and the crew that surrounds them, a one handed thumbs up.

Eddie can’t help let out a soft laugh with Steve at the collective sigh of relief. He gets that arm wrapped back around him, giving him a tight squeeze. Steve ducks his face over to talk into his ear, “I’m okay. I’ll have a hell of a bruise no doubt, but I promise I’m okay.”

“Fucking better be,” Eddie mutters as he pulls away, hastily wiping his face. Steve huffs at him.

“Are *you* okay?”

“You did not just ask me that.” Eddie pushes himself off the man, offering Steve his hands and hoisting him up, too. He tests his footing, and it's shaky–something is definitely hurting.

“Eddie…” The fucker has the audacity to turn those sad down-turned puppy eyes on him. Steve knows how bad his wreak was, and it fits him too, to care more about Eddie than himself.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m standing, aren’t I?” Steve gestures a bit, Medic in his ear asking him to follow her. Because they’re still in the middle of the run-off, the game paused till Steve gets the okay, and they continue without him anyway.

“Does that sound reassuring to you?” Eddie crosses his arms.

“Hey-“ Steve shrugs, “-couldn’t miss our date, right?”

And, honest to god, Eddie would throttle him right now. But he can’t.

So, he does the next best thing.

Eddie Munson, pit crew of 86 and crash survivor, crosses the couple steps between him and Steve Harrington, current 86 racer and, hopefully, his boyfriend, and kisses him.

“I’m holding you to that.”

Steve smiles wide and pivots with his hand out for Eddie to take. And Eddie does.

They start following the Medic, but Steve turns around and flashes his goofy grin again, giving everyone in the stadium a thumbs-up.

Eddie laughs as the crowd roars.

[luveline]

How about Steve with a reader who already has a kid? Like they're in their twenties and she has maybe 2 or 3 year old. Her ex isn't in the picture so it's just her. Maybe the fic is Steve finally getting to meet readers son/ daughter. Maybe she has to leave their date earlier due to a babysitter problem and Steve just comes along with her and they spend the night together.

ty for requesting <3 mom!reader, 2k

“Try not to show fear,” you’re saying, your hand pulled tight against his. He savours the softness of it even as the concrete steps to your house force you apart. 

“I’m not scared.” 

“I’m just saying, Steve. Toddlers know when you’re scared.” 

“But I’m not scared.” Steve has handled worse than toddlers. If your kid is anything like you, this will be a walk in the park. 

You grin at him and give him one of your cute shrugs, though shyness he recognises from your first date stiffens your shoulders again as you open your front door. 

Your home is small. The first thing he notices is the cramped space walking in, the tight stairs, but the second thing he notices is the amount of life, photographs that deck the walls and colour everywhere, clothes folded and waiting to be taken upstairs, little shoes in a stand by an open bathroom door. 

“Melanie?” you call. “You okay?” 

Melanie appears in the door with a huge watery frown, who Steve assumes to be your young son smiling on her hip, unperturbed. “I’m so sorry.” 

She’d been incoherent on the phone, though eventually squeezed out that it was nothing wrong with Noah. Melanie’s boyfriend appears to have broken up with her over the phone. 

You scoop Noah off of his babysitter's hip, holding him with far more ease. He drops his face with affection to the curve of your bare shoulder. It’s a shame you and Steve had to come home —you’re wearing the nicest dress he’s ever seen. But not a shame, because Steve’s excited to meet the baby. 

You could’ve sent him home. He assumes this means some level of trust and, better, permanency. If all goes well, he might be able to ask you to go steady soon. He’d love to do it tonight. 

“Don’t worry, Melanie, you can’t help it if something bad happens, can you? I’m really sorry about your boyfriend. Do you need me to drive you home?” 

Melanie sniffles miserably. “No, that’s okay, I can drive. I’m sorry.” 

You rub her arm. “It’s okay, really. We were just gonna have dinner and head home.” 

Steve internalises his reaction to that tidbit well. Melanie gives him a sad smile and passes by, her shoes heavy and smacking as she leaves with a mumbled farewell. 

“She’s a little emotional,” you say sympathetically, before turning your attention to the sleepy kid on your shoulder. “Sorry, Noah, guess you’re stuck with mommy and her new friend. Do you want to say hi?” 

Noah lifts his head, following your hand where you point at Steve, a smile like yours on his lips. 

Steve genuinely isn’t scared of kids, he loves them, and he loves talking to them. “Hi, buddy. It’s nice to meet you.” 

You hum appreciatively. “Go on, say hi to Steve.” 

“Hi,” Noah says quietly. 

Your voice is different around the baby, not any less pretty but softer, and quieter. It has Steve lowering his own voice in an attempt to mimic you. “Hi, bud.” 

“He’s my new best friend,” you explain, ushering Steve closer, your hand touching gently to his shoulder. 

Noah’s even more your image now he’s closer, all your eyes and smile and brightness, but he’s got someone else’s nose, and he’s got a bad case of yawns. You laugh at his scrunched nose, wiping your thumb lightly over his bottom lip. “You want to go to bed, sweet boy?” you ask. 

“No… buppy.” 

“You want your buppy. Okay, I’ll get it for you.” You pull your arm through Steve’s. “Let’s go.” 

He laughs and goes happily. Your kitchen is empty compared to the hallway, it’s surprising, but then you open a cabinet for the aforementioned bubby and a couple of things come tumbling out. “Whoops,” you say, popping Noah down on the floor. “Can you put those away for me, please? Thank you.” 

Noah tries his best, but everything he puts in comes tumbling back out, earning a few high-pitched giggles. You crack the fridge open for a pint of cows milk. 

“He doesn’t have formula?” 

“No, you can give them whole milk after a year, but he doesn’t really need it anymore, it’s just to help him self-soothe at nighttime.” 

“Mom, I can’t do it,” Noah laughs. Steve thinks that great, that laughing. He could’ve had a tantrum (Steve wouldn’t blame him). 

Steve crouches down. “Can I help?” 

Noah gives Steve a smile, eyes squinting nearly entirely shut. “Yes.” 

“Okay, awesome. Looks like your mom needs more cabinets for all your stuff.” He starts to pick up the pieces. 

“I need a whole new house,” you say, filling the bottle about three quarters before sticking it in your microwave uncapped. You set the timer for fifteen seconds and prop your chin in your hand, elbow on the counter. Steve thinks it’s your best angle yet, your dress, your arms, the friendly smile you’re wearing that hasn’t once ebbed since the first date. It all gets his chest in a twist. 

He knows getting your baby to like him is make or break. And he really wants to give this a shot, you and him, you and Noah. He thinks you’d be good together. (Maybe he’s crazy and too forward, but you really are beautiful in your dress.) 

“How’s that?” he asks, closing the cabinet behind a tower of bottles and baby bowls.

“Perfect! Good job, baby,” Noah says, tapping Steve on the knee. 

Steve snorts. “Thank you.” 

“He’s going through a phase of saying everything I say,” you explain, yanking open the microwave to test the milk on the back of your hand. 

You deem the milk sufficiently warmed and offer Noah your hand, swiping a takeout menu from the fridge as you pass, and once again grabbing Steve by the arm to drag him along. He’s content to be dragged. You lead everyone into the living room, and he’s again surprised by how small it is. 

You catch his look. “Are you judging me, Harrington?” 

“What? No? Of course not.”

“Messing with you. There’s an extension out back, on the kitchen? That’s where I keep the rest of the toys.” You drop down onto the couch with a sigh. “Come here, babe, come cuddle with mommy.” 

If Noah weren’t in earshot, Steve would make a joke about how he hopes you aren’t talking to him. It’s probably a good thing he doesn’t.

You lay back and Noah climbs up onto one side of you, his hands out ready for his bottle, while your arm stretches out for Steve. “Come ‘n’ sit.” 

Steve sits knee to knee with you. He’s not scared of kids, and he isn’t scared of you, either. He knows exactly what he wants, and he isn’t afraid to let you know it, taking your hand where it lies open on your thigh. 

“What were you gonna get?” you ask, nodding to the takeout menu. 

“I don’t know, I’ll have what you’re having,” Steve says. 

“What if you don’t like what I’m having?” 

“I’ll learn.” 

You tip your chin up at him, beaming. “Yeah? What if I like something completely unamerican?” 

“I gotta learn sometime, right?” He squeezes your fingers nicely. 

“Well, my Noah likes everything.” You kiss Noah’s forehead, stealing his attention from his bottle, bright eyes tracing your face and then your hand where Steve is rubbing the back of it. 

“Then he can have some of everything.”

You and Steve share a loving smile. Smiles smiles smiles, everybody’s getting on, this is the best sixth date anyone’s ever had, best date full stop, though your fifth date was a close second. You and Steve had spent hours together in a park in the city eating picnic foods and soaking in the sun together, your nose brushing off of his ribs, his jacket balled up under your head. He’d kissed you twice that night when you finally, sorrily had to go home, and you’d said, Aw, I really like you, as you held hands on the stoop. He should’ve asked you then to give it a proper go, but now he’s met Noah he figures it’s as good a time as any. 

“Hey,” Steve begins, clearing his throat, “would you–”

“Woh!” Noah shouts around the teet of his bottle. It falls from his lips. “We wiw hands,” he garbles, a bunch of baby flavoured gibberish as he leans over your stomach to cover your hand where it’s held in Steve’s. “Mom!” 

“What, babe?” 

“My hand!” 

“You’re not jealous, are you?” you ask with a laugh. 

“Mom!” he says, slapping your hands insistently with his own. 

Steve loosens your fingers, leaving a gap between your palms. “Quick, bud, put your hand in.” 

Noah climbs onto your leg and presses his hand into the fold, though he grows annoyed at the weird fit, and immediately starts to sniffle. Steve winces, but you’re used to it. “Aw, don’t start the waterworks. Come on, what happened to sharing? We’re good sharers.” 

Steve lets go of your hand. He’s reluctant, sure, but he doesn’t wanna be on anyone’s bad side. Noah cries for a few seconds like he’s forgotten why he’s upset, but he sees your open palm and the cog finishes turning. 

“Hold mommy’s hand,” you say, wiggling your fingers. 

Noah thinks about it. He ends up on his side across your leg staring at you, then at Steve, who smiles at him cheerfully. “He’s so handsome,” Steve says. “He has your face. Guess that’s why you’re so handsome, huh?” He shakes his head at Noah gently. “‘Cos you got all your good looks from your mommy.”

“He knows what that means,” you preen, leaning down to speak closer to Noah’s ear. “Don’t you? You’re my handsome boy.” 

Noah puts his hand in Steve’s with another tinkling laugh. 

“Oh! I see how it is, you wanna be Steve’s friend too. Can’t let me have anything for myself, can you?” 

“No,” Noah says cheekily. 

Steve collects Noah’s little hand in his. “Good!” he says. “You should get everything you want, just like mom.”

“Think so?” you ask. 

Steve nods. 

You cover Noah’s eyes with your hand and move up to press a quick kiss to Steve’s lips. “Like you?” you ask. 

Steve’s just stoked to have someone he likes actually like him back at the same level. Noah squirms away from your hand to squeeze Steve’s tighter. Two someones. 

“Like me,” he says, grinning. 

“Mommy, kiss!” Noah says urgently. “Kiss!” 

You pull your gaze from Steve’s. “Sorry, I’m sorry! Come here, baby, I’ll give you a kiss too. I guess I’m gonna be giving double the kisses I used to, my poor chapped lips.” You kiss kiss kiss Noah across the forehead. 

Steve flusters thinking about it, making a mental note to get you some chapstick. He’d go pretty crazy for a crown of kisses like that. 

[froggiewrites]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

SFW

Summary: You spend the night crying into your drinks about how much you want Sanji, and how much it hurts he's in love with someone else. Sanji spends the night crying about much the same. Your friends get sick of it, and decide to help the idiots realize what everyone else already knows. Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Misunderstandings, Sanji and Reader both being idiots Word Count: 4.1k

You are going to get drunk tonight. Plastered, even.

Another day, another victory, another adventure spent staring longingly at Sanji when you were sure he wasn’t looking. You could usually handle the embarrassment of acting like a lovesick puppy for a man you knew didn’t feel the same, but something about today really set you off. Maybe it was the way he so sweetly called Nami’s name when you all reunited, or the way he so carefully prepared Robin her favorite drinks, or some other transgression you can’t quite remember. You don’t know exactly what it was, but you know you’re irritated and hurt and a little heartbroken, and there’s about a half a dozen drinks with your name on them behind the bar.

The tavern is lively and loud, and the rest of the crew is clearly having a good time. Your eyes briefly linger on Sanji at the bar, but you try to force your eyes away. No point in lingering here, yearning for something you can’t have. You instead make your way to the back of the room, wedging yourself between Zoro and Robin, who seem to be drinking in silence together.

You had intended on sharing in the peaceful silence, broken only by some quiet comments and gentle chuckles, but three drinks in you can see them side-eyeing you, brows furrowed.

“What?” Your voice comes out harsher than you meant it to, but you’re a bit too drunk to care.

“Just surprised you’re drinking so much, is all. You normally pace yourself more than this.” Robin’s voice is quiet and controlled, as though she’s just making a passive observation, but you know your friends and you know she is deeply worried about you.

“I had a bad day.”

“Really? You seemed fine earlier.” Zoro sounds genuinely surprised. Robin shoots him a look you can’t read, and he quickly shuts his mouth.

“Does this have anything to do with a certain someone?” Her voice is kind, so kind, but it makes you clench your jaw anyway.

“No.”

Silence.

“Maybe.”

Zoro mutters, “Oh, god damnit,” before taking another stiff pull of his drink.

“What happened, exactly? You both seemed perfectly friendly this morning.”

“I don’t…know. Everything was fine until it wasn’t, and now I’m all twisted into knots and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Well maybe you can start by telling us how you feel, and we can try to help you unravel all of this.”

“We?”

You both ignore Zoro’s confusion and indignation. “Maybe…if you think it will help.” You close your eyes, grounding yourself, and focusing wholly inward. “I just think I’m…tired of wanting things I can’t have. It’s really hard to be on a ship full of people living their dreams, fighting for everything they desire, and I’m here, feeling like I have to constantly hold so tight I feel like my fingers will break or else it’ll all slip through my fingers.”

“And do you feel like you’re holding onto Sanji?”

“Not just him, I guess. To everything. To all of you. But I’m trying to let myself believe that all of this is what I want, and that it’s going to be forever, and then I see him smile at someone else and the illusion just…shatters. I’m not happy. And I know damn well it won’t last forever. I feel like I’m stuck waiting for an inevitable ending that I’ll never be satisfied with. Right now, I’m in limbo, and I can keep pretending that it doesn’t hurt, but every time I think about how hopeless I feel with him it kind of reminds me of how hopeless it all is.”

You put your head in your hands for a moment, taking a deep breath. “And it’s not only about him, right? It’s just kind of a general dissatisfaction with where I am compared to you guys. But I would be lying if I said it wasn’t more about Sanji than it isn’t. He’s both, like, a symbol of it and the source of it. He’s the thing I want most, and he’s the thing I know I’m never going to have.”

“Why do you think you’ll never have him?”

“Because he’s in love with Nami.” You say it like it’s obvious.

Zoro is glaring at his drink, still wondering how he got roped into this conversation and praying you stop, while Robin gives you a gentle look resembling sympathy. There's something behind her eyes though, something you can't read, that makes you feel a bit uneasy.

"It's one thing, to have your love unrequited. For the man you're in love with to be hopelessly smitten with someone else. But god, it's another for him to be right."

"Right?" Robin's voice doesn't betray anything as she keeps her tone to a careful academic neutrality.

"It's just...she is that wonderful. I can't be upset about it because I can't blame either of them. She's beautiful and kind and capable and he's...well. He's everything. It just makes sense. It's somehow harder not to be bitter because I really don't have anything to be bitter about, if that makes sense."

"It would make sense if anything you said was true." Zoro's voice is gruff,  and you look to him in surprise, only to find his expression mirroring your own, as though he can't believe he opened his mouth. "He sucks, and she's great and all but she's no angel. And they aren't in love anyway so I don't understand what the problem even is." You think he's trying to help. Sweet, if ineffective.

"He's in love with her. He has been since the day they met. You know that, you were there."

"That isn't love. He's just a horny idiot."

"He's not an idiot." You hate how defensive your tone gets, how pathetic it makes you feel. You hate even more that Zoro and Robin both look at you with undisguised pity.

"I think what Zoro is trying to say is that you seem to think his feelings for Nami go a lot deeper than they do. They're just friends. He just speaks to all women like that."

"Not me."

You all hate the silence that follows.

"He hits on you too." Zoro's voice is a little weaker than before, knowing his argument isn't exactly rock solid. He's kind to you, complimentary, but he's never rushed into battle alone to save you. He's never ridden in on a blazing white steed for you, not like he has Robin or Nami. And sure, you've never been kidnapped like them, but it's hard not to feel the difference when Mr Prince himself has never played his part with you. He's kind to you, so very kind, but he's kind to everyone. That's just who he is.

“You know it isn’t the same, Zoro. It’s always Nami first. It always has been. He talks to me the same way he would any woman. Less than that, even.” You start tearing up despite yourself, and you hope your friends will blame your fragility on your drink and not your tender heart. “He just…he doesn’t look at me like that. He doesn’t fall at my feet, and it’s not like I want him to but…” You break into a quiet sob, and Robin’s hand comes to your shoulder, rubbing calming circles there.

Zoro leans in a bit, clearly a little uncomfortable but worried and kind nonetheless. “That stupid cook cares about you a lot more than any stranger on the street, and I think you know that. He’s just an idiot.” You look up at him, confused, and Zoro tries not to let out an annoyed sigh at your obliviousness. It isn’t entirely your fault. Who could blame you for thinking what you did? It’s not like Sanji helped with that. He didn’t give you the dramatic love confessions he did Nami or Robin. Nami had asked him once why he sang your praises differently than he did theirs, and he had insisted that he would give you only the grandest speeches, once he had prepared words worthy of you. The rest of the crew quickly figured out what he really meant: he was too nervous to say such a thing when he really meant it.  He would instead tuck his love into the food and drinks he served you, into the jacket he placed over your shoulders when you were cold, into the gentle smiles he gave you when you weren’t looking. Everyone had agreed not to push him before he was ready, to let you both find your way to each other naturally, but it was becoming apparent this was the wrong move.

You keep crying into your glass, and Zoro sighs. You’re both ridiculous. What a pair.

Across the bar, Usopp lets out his fiftieth sigh of the night. He has no idea how he got roped into this. Sanji is somewhere between sorrow and rage, buried in a pile of empty glasses that reek of beer. He's been going on for at least fifteen minutes now, and if Usopp had even slightly less of a conscience he'd leave him here to wallow, considering his problem is entirely self-inflicted. But unfortunately, Usopp is a great friend, so instead he bravely sits on this barstool, a listening ear to make sure Sanji's drowning his troubles doesn't end in Sanji himself drowning after he stumbles his way home alone.

"It's not right." Sanji's voice is shaky with emotion, even with his words slurred.

Usopp sighs, pretending he hasn't heard this exact line of conversation three times tonight. "What's not right, buddy?"

"He doesn't...he doesn't deserve her. He isn't good enough for her. That stupid swordsman...what does she see in him?" He takes another swig of his drink, letting out a deep sigh and dropping his shoulders. "He's just...he's not even nice to her. Not like he should be."

"He's being nice to her right now." Usopp motions over to where you're having your own pity party, one Zoro seems to have become an unwilling guest of. Robin is patting your shoulder in sympathy, while Zoro leans closer to say something to you, care and concern obvious on his face to those who knew him.

"But he should worship her. Everyone should. She's...she's..." Sanji drunkenly trails off.

"An angel?"

"A goddess." Despite the glaze over his eyes, his conviction shines though, granting him a focus he hasn't had all night as he gazes at her. "Someone to be cherished, protected, adored. He doesn't adore her. He should be on his knees right now begging for her attention, and he's just...talking to her. Like he would anybody."

"Probably because they're friends."

"But look at her. She clearly wants more than that. She should get whatever she wants. On a silver platter." Sanji really emphasizes that last part, lips pouting and brow tightening. Usopp looks over again to see you about to cry into your drink, leaning further into Robin. You aren't even looking at Zoro right now, but Sanji is still burning with envy. Usopp would love to set him straight, tell him that anyone with eyes could see who's attention you really wanted, but he knows you'd kill him, and he quite likes being alive. Sanji's so filled with malice and self loathing right now that he probably wouldn't even believe him, anyway. For a man so delusional about love, he somehow can’t see it when it’s right in front of him.

“I think you’re a little lost here, Sanji. She’s not in love with Zoro. She’s just drunk and sad. Reminds me of someone else I know.” He keeps that last part under his breath, and Sanji is drunk enough not to have heard it. Instead he frowns, taking another swig of his drink before trying to stand and falling directly into the counter. Your head pops up across the room, eyes wide and concerned, ready to leap to Sanji’s rescue. It’s amazing how blind that man must be to not see how obsessed with him you are. Usopp waves you off before hooking his hands under Sanji’s armpits and hauling him up. “Time to go, loverboy. You’ve had enough.”

“But she needs me!” Sanji struggles, but he’s so drunk he can’t properly utilize his strength. Lucky, or he’d already be halfway across the room to make an ass of himself. Usopp notices a small trickle of blood on his forehead from where he made contact with the bar.

“She’s fine, I promise. But you need to take a trip to see Chopper.”

“I need to help her! I can’t leave a lady in distress!”

“The lady will be in a lot more distress if she sees you’re hurt, Sanji! So get moving!” Usopp starts dragging him unceremoniously from the tavern, praying Franky will still be awake when he gets back to the ship to help him maneuver Sanji into his cot. Sanji passes out about halfway back to the Sunny, mercifully. Usopp hopes Robin and Zoro are having a better time with their other drunken crewmate.

You wake up with a pounding headache and the worst case of dry-mouth you’ve ever experienced. Your eyes just barely crack open, letting in a blinding ray of light, and you let out a small groan of pain. There’s a large glass of water by your bedside and some pills, as well as a small note from Chopper telling you to meet him in the infirmary once you feel up to walking. You chug the water and take your medicine gladly, touched by the sweet gesture. Your crew takes such good care of you.

It takes a while for the medicine to kick in enough for the light to stop hurting, but eventually you’re able to stand. You can’t remember the latter half of last night, your last memory being Sanji slamming his head into the counter while Robin and Zoro held you back from running to him. Zoro had supplied you with another drink then, and Robin had asked you more probing questions, but you could not for the life of you remember any other specifics. You make your way to Chopper’s infirmary so lost in thought you didn’t notice the mischievous looks in the eyes of your crewmates, the way their gazes subtly followed you as you walked.

“Chopper?” Your voice is still a little hoarse from having cried your heart out last night. You slip through the door, expecting to find your dear doctor ready to fuss over you and scold you for overdoing it last night. Instead you find Sanji face first in a bed, a small bandage wrapped around his head. Before you can ask if he’s alright, or if he knows where Chopper is, you hear it.

Click.

Your eyes widen. Your hand reaches for the doorknob, ready to turn it, and you find it doesn’t budge.

“What the fuck?”

Sanji groans again, slowly and carefully sitting up, before looking over at you. “What are you doing here, darling?” He looks at your hand, up at your expression, then back down to the doorknob. “Why…why is the doorknob backwards?”

Instead of the lock being where it should be, you find the keyhole on the inside of the door. There’s slight scratches around the nails holding it and place, and you realize someone has turned it around. There’s a quiet murmur of voices on the other side of the door, which turns to a yelp when you punch the wood. “What the hell is this?”

“We’re helping!” Nami’s voice rings out confidently from the other side, and you hear a few noises of agreement.

“With what, exactly?” You have a horrible sinking feeling you know exactly what they’re going to say, but you try to push it out of your mind, channeling the relentless optimism of your captain.

“We’re tired of you two being idiots!” Zoro’s voice is annoyed and unfriendly, but after a moment it slightly softens. “Just…talk to each other. Like people. For once in your lives.”

You don’t know why, but something about that makes Sanji’s brow twitch in annoyance. “Let us out, mosshead! I knew you were awful but I can’t believe you’d trap a lady!”

“It wasn’t my goddamn idea! Blame Nami!”

Sanji pauses in his yelling at that, but shockingly enough, he still seems upset instead of instantly kowtowing. He frowns, forehead wrinkling, but doesn’t say anything else.

“We aren’t letting you out until you’ve talked. We’re gonna go so you have privacy, but if you break out we’re putting you right back in, so don’t even think about just kicking down the door!” Nami’s voice is firm and commanding, and you find your shoulders slumping, knowing there’s no real point in fighting her. You’re both hungover, exhausted, and not in any state to continue the conflict. You sigh, making your way to a cot next to Sanji’s. You throw yourself down, the slight bounce you make on landing making you far more nauseous than it had any right to.

“Do you know what they want us to talk about?” Sanji sounds almost nervous, which surprises you. Does he know?

“I…have an idea. Do you?”

“I might.”

You both shift awkwardly in the silence that follows. You fidget with your hands, curling in tighter, anxiety eating at you. This is it. This is the rejection you’ve been waiting for. The final blow to shatter your fragile hopes, to crush your remaining optimism and the wonderful future you’ve allowed yourself to keep dreaming of.

“What do you see in him?” Sanji’s voice is quiet and seeping with vulnerability. His eyes are closed, as though he’s scared to even look at you and get your answer.

“What do I see in who?”

“In that stupid swordsman. Why do you care about him?”

“What?” You blink owlishly.

He finally looks up at you. He blinks back. “What do you mean, what?”

“Why are you talking to me like I’m dating Zoro?”

“Are you…not? Trying to do that?”

“No! God no! I’m–” You barely hold yourself back from saying trying to date you. “I’m not into Zoro like that. Did you think I was?”

“I–um. No?” His dour look turns sheepish, a small bit of red painting his cheeks. Adorable.

“God, Sanji. Zoro is not my type.” You both sit for a moment, before you realize something. “Were you upset because you thought I was into him?”

“He isn’t good enough for you.” He says it so matter-of-fact, like it’s an obvious truth. “No one is, but especially not him. You deserve the best, and nothing less.”

Your heart flutters a little, that little thing with feathers worming its way back into you, but you suddenly see Nami’s face in your mind and you crush it. To dream and watch it die is far worse than never dreaming at all. “That’s sweet, Sanji. But you shouldn’t say things like that. You might give someone the wrong idea.”

His head cocks to the side. “What do you mean, wrong idea? You do deserve the best. No one in the world deserves it more than you.”

“What about Nami?”

“What about Nami?”

“Does she not deserve the best? More than I do? More than anyone? Your sweet Nami-swan?” You fail to keep the bitterness out of your tone in that. Not bitterness towards her, of course, or even towards Sanji, really, just a sour taste in your mouth you can’t quite shake.

His brow furrows, lips downturned. “Well she deserves the best too, of course, but why would she deserve it more? Why wouldn’t you deserve everything you want?”

You let out a frustrated growl. “That’s what I want to know! Why not me?” You slam your hand over your mouth. God, he knows, and now he’s going to reject you, so sweetly and kindly, like he does everything, and it’s going to shatter you into a million pieces. You squeeze your eyes shut like blocking out the sight of him will undo what you’ve just done.

You don’t hear him reject you. You don’t even hear him move. You only feel warm hands on your cheeks, and you open your eyes to see Sanji right in front of you, nose to nose, and you can see reflected in his eyes something you might dare to call hope.

“Do you want it to be you?” You hear a longing in his words, see it in his eyes. You have never known Sanji as a man to want, to desire more than what he’s freely given, but in this moment it truly almost seems like he wants you.

You slowly take your hand off of your mouth. Your voice is meek, mouselike, but you force it out anyway. “Would that be okay? If I did?”

“Oh angel, it would be more than okay.” He slides impossibly closer, thighs on either side of yours, torsos pressed together, surrounding you wholly. “It is you. It has always been you. It will always be you. Is that okay?”

You want to answer him in words, something articulate that would move his heart, but instead you let out a soft squeak of surprise before grabbing his cheeks and pulling his lips to yours. They’re chapped, the dehydration from the hangover still plaguing him. He has morning breath. His movements are uncoordinated, unsteady. His goatee scratches your chin. When he opens his mouth, welcoming you further, he tastes like cigarettes and a hint of shitty beer. 

It’s the best kiss you’ve ever had.

You end up on your back, Sanji’s weight holding you down, comforting and all-consuming. His hands rest on your hips as yours tangle in his hair. You only pull back when the demand for air is too much, and even then you consider ignoring the scream of your lungs. You both pull back, chests heaving, and Sanji buries his face in your neck.

“I never thought I’d actually get to do this.” He buries his nose further into your neck, his arms sliding underneath you to pull you into a tight embrace.

“Neither did I. I kept telling myself to stop dreaming about things I couldn’t have.”

“You’ve had me from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“You’ve had me for just as long.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

You take a strained breath. “I was…I don’t deserve you. And I thought you knew that. And that you were in love with Nami. That didn’t help.”

He pulls back to look you in the eyes, his gaze boring into you. “You thought you didn’t deserve me?” He sounds absolutely baffled at the idea.

“You’re kind, talented, strong, handsome…you’re everything, Sanji. You deserve everything you want. And I didn’t think you wanted me.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before a small chuckle forces its way out of him. “That’s…that’s so ridiculous I genuinely don’t even know where to start.”

He kisses your forehead. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and everything I’m ever going to want.”

He kisses your cheeks. “I have wanted you from the moment we met, and I will want you until the day I die.”

He kisses the tip of your nose. “I have never met anyone more deserving of the world than you. And I’m not going to let anyone say otherwise. Even you. So there.”

You lean up to kiss his forehead in turn. “Well there’s nothing in this world I want more than you. Can I really have you?”

He takes one of your hands and places it over his rapidly beating heart. “You feel that? It’s all yours.” He lifts your other hand and kisses it in a deeply princely gesture that fits him perfectly.

Before you can reciprocate, the door slams open, and you hear Zoro’s disgruntled voice call out. “They’re making out! Can we be done with this now?”

Sanji whips around with even more vitriol than he usually reserves for the swordsman. “Piss off, mosshead. Can’t you see we’re busy?” The quick movement makes him sway slightly, and you’re forced to remember how horribly you’re both doing physically. If he picks a fight with Zoro right now he might end up puking all over his shoes.

“Ignore him, Sanji. We need to get some rest anyway.” You pull his face into your chest, which he gladly collapses fully into. When you run your fingers through his hair, he’s practically purring.

“Anything you say, my love.” His content smile grows wider when he hears your heart quicken at the words. Neither of you say anything else as your friends crowd the room, with their finallys and about times. Nothing in the world matters more than this right now: the feeling of each other’s warmth, the softness of each other’s skin, and the feeling of relief in both of your chests that your hopes were finally allowed to thrive.

[astonmartinii]

into the arms of another part two | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x reader

part two to this !! part three

yourusername

liked by arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1 and 661,230 others

yourusername: winner winner chicken dinner !! congrats maxy i’m so proud of you always

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user1: i know charles’ head is hot right now

user2: i hope netflix are taking notes cause this tea is steaming hot

maxverstappen1: thank you baby, helps when i have the prettiest cheerleader in the world

yourusername: i am the sexiest sargent in all of the orange army

maxverstappen1: too right you are

user3: i miss when y/n was the head of the tifosi the red monochromatic fits ate so hard

user4: i need charles to pull his head out of his ass and apologise so we can reclaim her before monza

user5: do not even bring up the fact we may not have custody of her for monza

danielricciardo: leave some for the rest of us maxy

yourusername: no actually i think it’s illegal for max not to win sorry

danielricciardo: will that change if charlie apologises?

yourusername: considering that hasn’t happened and doesn’t look to be happening any time soon - no.

user6: CHARLES PLEASE DO SOMETHING

user7: he doesn’t have to do anything, she’s just bitter cause she’s always been the bridesmaid and never the bride. we ALL know she’s always loved charles and she can’t handle that she’s not the centre of his attention it’s kinda pathetic

maxverstappen1: what made you think you know any of us enough to comment something like this? what told you that you even had a right to talk about y/n like that? she’s everything you could ever wish to be and more and she will never ever deserve the things you people are saying about her. charles would be lucky to have y/n in his life platonically or romantically but it’s his loss

user8: boyf of the year right here

user9: charles take note ^^^ this is how you’re meant to defend your best friend

landonorris: i am once again asking for photo credits i’m not gonna be your personal photographer for free

maxverstappen1: i literally paid for your dinner

yourusername: you’re literally a millionaire

landonorris: i don’t care a man still likes to be wined and dined

yourusername: just to make it clear we are not looking for a third

user10: i promise i can change your mind give me a chance

f1tea

liked by user11, user12 and 2,349 others

f1tea: charles leclerc caught liking this tweet about the situation between him and y/n. seems like he won’t back down on this. what do you think?

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user13: i need this mans head on a spike i’m so serious

user14: i want to play pinball with the single marble in his head

user15: i think ferrari have genuinely caused real head rot in him cause no way he thinks this is a serve

user16: let's be real charles' biggest rivals are ferrari and himself

user17: not this man at his BIG AGE is liking shady tweets about his best friend

user18: i think it's safe to say they're not best friends any more

user19: also "biggest rival" my ass max and charles are fucking friends now so this whole narrative is complete horse shit

user20: i'm so bored of charles playing the victim bro YOU ARE THE INSTIGATOR YOU ARE THE PROBLEM

user21: the way charles is liking shit like this but max is writing whole ass essays in the comments defending her

user22: and that''s why i'll always back that she ended up with the right man

user23: max is so far in the lead in the championship i need him to take charles out for the narrative

user24: are we in high school? like seriously this is so fucking petty i cannot wait for media day this weekend

user25: he's either gonna be the funniest man in the world or he's gonna bite someones fucking head off

user26: and i'll back it either way

user27: i know y/n is about to have her revenge dress moment in the paddock someone get kym illman ready STAT.

f1wagsupdates

liked by lilymunhe, carmenmundt and 4,530 others

tagged: yourusername

f1wagsupdates: REVENGE DRESS MOMENT !!! y/n y/ln enters the paddock in monza in this stunning black dress, showing the world what a catch she is, oh and that is max holding the umbrella for her, what a gentleman.

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user28: mother came to slay i cannot even

user29: this right after max came for charles in the press conference is PERFECTION + NO RED IN MONZA !!

user30: i see lily and carmen in the likes in knew they'd be on the right side

user31: girl i don't think anyone is on charles' side

user32: yall see the stink eye from the red bull garage when charles walked past they have y/n's back LOL

user33: the red bull garage been ride or dies for max so it defo makes sense that they would extend that to y/n

user34: christian was defo waiting for a question about it in the press conference

user35: someone on twitter got a clip of him putting his arm around fred going out of the paddock and telling him to get his driver under control

user36: yall are we on the kardashians what the fuck is going on

user37: people may hate christian but he defends his driver so much that he's inserting himself in the relationship drama

user38: i don't even follow f1 but whoever this is this serving oh my

user39: this is so exhausting like i need charles to just apologise so we can get cute y/n x max x charles content

user40: torturing myself thinking about how cute that dynamic could be

f1

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 1,203,457 others

f1: max verstappen clinches his tenth win of the season at monza, joined by sergio perez and oscar piastri. home heroes charles leclerc and carlos sainz came together at turn one, awful showing for ferrari in monza

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user41: this narrative is so so poetic

user42: i feel bad for the tifosi at this point y'all get your hopes up every season

user43: charles you aimed the wrong way if you wanted to take max out

user44: the way max kissed y/n after winning god they're so cute

user45: also the way christian got everyone to move so y/n could get to the front to see max

user46: even marko looked happy about it what is going on?

user47: y'all we knew it was gonna be bad for ferrari y/n wasn't wearing red, call me superstitious but every time she's worn red charles has either won or been on the podium

user48: well that's just what he gets for not appreciating her

user49: as fernando would say KARMA

user50: someone check charles' blood pressure please

maxverstappen1

liked by christianhorner, yourusername and 1,304,662 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: winning on and off the track, some of you can't relate.

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user51: parents omg

danielricciardo: fighting words maxy, not pulling your punches

maxverstappen1: i do my fighting on the track, not my fault people can't get past turn one to give me a real battle

danielricciardo: i need to be inside your brain

maxverstappen1: no there's images of y/n in my brain that no other man will ever see

danielricciardo: you crack me up maxy

yourusername: woah who's that fine ass piece of woman

maxverstappen1: she's taken sorry

yourusername: that's a shame, i hope that man is taking care of her

maxverstappen1: i don't believe she's got any complaints

yourusername: wow you sound like a gentleman, she's a lucky woman

maxverstappen1: believe me i am the lucky one.

yourusername: awwww maxy you're literally the sweetest person in the world

user52: if i was charles and i saw this after that race you'd have to restrain me i'm so serious

user53: i'm happy for y/n and max but i need them to stop being happy in my face

alexalbon: ur welcome for that first picture btw

yourusername: lily taught you well

alexalbon: so no thanks?

yourusername: i joke thank you very much sir albon

user54: so like all of the twitch quartet are on y/n's side? awkward.

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, 706,835 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: charles and i have been best friends since i knew what the word meant and it really hurts that is has gotten to this point. when charles got his first girlfriend i chalked it up to the excitement of the experience, but when he routinely got in and out of relationships and falling back on our friendship once scorned, i started to question what he really felt about our friendship. i overlooked it every time even when it made me doubt my worth and hoped our friendship meant more. however, the cycle continued and after being left stranded at a beach in a country i do not know i decided it was the end. i have reached out to you so, so many times and want nothing more than our friendship to work and so we can be life-long friends that we can tell our kids about. but i guess it's not worth that much to you and that's something i'll have to reconcile with. the only positive coming from this the fact that it pushed me to the love of my life, so thank you for that.

comments are turned off.

charles_leclerc

liked by joristrouche, pierregasly and 1,305,783 others

charles_leclerc: i've already got my trophy, sorry not sorry.

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user56: WHAT THE FUCK

user57: my brain is actually scrambled

user58: charles' must be as well cause no way he thought this was a good idea

landonorris: so this is a low blow

charles_leclerc: since when were you the reference point for morals

landonorris: damn dude, you're in the wrong but go off i guess

user59: why do i actually want to cry for y/n right now? she did this whole ass heartfelt post with no comments so people wouldn't be able to speculate and he replies with a pic of his gf's ASS

danielricciardo: not cool dude

charles_leclerc: i see you all took her side and our friendships mean fuck all

danielricciardo: kinda ironic you bring up respecting friendships

charles_leclerc: spare me the lecture

maxverstappen1: you're a child. but this is the closure she needs. cheers to being an asshole.

charles_leclerc: so you managed to get some of my sloppy seconds, you're welcome

maxverstappen1: she's not sloppy seconds and i can't believe you'd refer to her as that. but if you wanna talk sloppy seconds you can hold the 100 point gap between us in the championship. and y/n will never say this so i'll say it for her GO FUCK YOURSELF

user60: SHOTS FIRED

user61: men are so confusing

yourusername added to their story

[caption: taking some time for myself. thank you for your kind words and know i have an amazing support system around me now]

f1wagsupdates

liked by user65, user66 and 5,430 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

f1wagsupdates: charles leclerc spotted outside y/n y/ln's office with flowers this afternoon. idk at this point, any time i report on this man i lose more brain cells.

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user67: lol even wag page admins are done

f1wagsupdates: he gives me a lot of content but damn he needs to sort his head out

user68: lol this is gonna be an all time apology tour i can't wait

user69: i honestly don't want y/n to forgive him he doesn't deserve it.

user70: yeah max has proven ride or die for y/n so i know who she should stick with

user71: i need him to donate his brain to science cause in what world is a measly bouquet of flowers gonna cover all of this shit ?

user72: legit he's systematically ditched his best friend, let randomers on the internet drage her name through the mud and then liked it and then flaunted the fact that he didn't care about their friendship for everyone to see

maxverstappen1: lol nice try

user73: my petty king i love him so much

user74: i know y/n is taking a break from social media but i hope she knows how much love she's getting

user75: for real we're all on her side i hope she slammed that door in charles' face

user76: i hope that bouquet ended up in the bin

maxverstappen1 added to their story

[caption: special delivery for a special girl]

note: i know this was heavily requested so here it is!! i really like it and it's defo open for a third part if yall want charles and y/n to reconcile? thank you for reading xx

[erosiism]

GENSHIN MEN AND…

prompt: HOW THEY WOULD REACT IF YOU SACRIFICED YOUR LIFE FOR THEM

character(s): diluc, zhongli [part one] childe, ayato [part two, out]

warnings(s): angst ofc—mention of blood, my first post on tumblr so my writing style may be a little icky, inaccuracies since I haven’t looked up genshin lore for a hot minute 

note(s): male reader, second person, present tense, not beta read

DILUC

There’s a lot of things you haven’t told him yet. Things you wished you had told him—but everything’s fine, because in this single action you are willing to do for him—your feelings will come inevitably with it and it’s a torrent of emotions that you’re about to burden him with.

He’s been your childhood friend for seventeen years now. All those times you have seen him, smiling, his merry laughter carrying over the breeze, his lips purple from sampling grapes, to the time where that very laughter and smiles disappear to smoothen into a stone face. After the death of his father, Diluc has become reserved, cold, and rather distant. Bitter.

You two were close, once.

You two had a bond that many could not quite interpret— it was as clear as day that you both trusted each other fully, but each always had secrets to hide. Some say proximity is the reason why both of you got close — your manors were near to each other, but truthfully, it was as simple as it was: you two had the same social standing. Both you and Diluc were, for each of their families, supposed to be close for the sake of future alliances and unions, but the friendship soon turned genuine, only for it to crumble under the weight of guilt and grief.

Only for it to crumble on the day Crepus died.

You still remember it vividly; in all its sickening, gruesome, heart wrenching detail. You were fortunate enough not to witness it, but etched in your memory, all you can think of is Diluc’s ravaged expression when he trembled before his father’s corpse.

You were helpless then. You could have extended an arm, you could have done something.

You didn’t.

But now would be different. You know the archons have it in for him when the incident happens the same way it happened with his father: via a carriage incident. 

You laugh then at its bitter irony.

Bandits come, a whole load of them, and this time Diluc fights while you are there helpless once again, trembling when you hear the clash of swords and arrows. When you hear his claymore smash against flesh. You don’t have a vision. Diluc has. You don’t have any particular skill in handling a sword; Jean has tried to teach you once, but it has failed. Your brain may be quick and witty, but your steps aren’t. 

The bandits have delusions. The archons really are cruel.

You see it before he does. There’s a burst of electric power that he's battling, the elementals clashing with each other—you’re still lagging behind, barely missing the whizzing arrows that skim your flesh, your heart wrenching as you see Diluc’s pained expression. You know what he’s thinking of, and it isn’t you. His memories are reverting back to his father’s death. His birthday. And perhaps that’s why his usual sharpness is wearied down.

You see the sword about to plunge his back before he does.

You scream to tell him.

Your body moves before anything.

Your fingers fumble to clasp the fabric of your clothes, before you tug him out of the way. You feel the weight of a sword against your back; you feel the way it slices through your skin before it presses against your flesh. You taste blood on your tongue, before a myriad of colors burst out; crimson, carmine. All the shades of red. You wobble then, choking out blood, before you stumble. You hear a few slices; razor, swift sharp ones. Then the last of the assailants falls down, and you are made aware that your decision has been the right one.

Diluc has survived. 

You stumble. You feel your body hit the ground. Murkiness runs your vision.

“[Name],” you hear a soft, whispering voice carry to your ears. You try your best to cling onto the words. But pain is burning within you—it’s ironic, how they feel more scorching than Diluc’s flames have ever felt. You try your best to swallow down your pants and your pained noises, but it ends up slipping from your mouth in broken, mottled syllables.

Your blurry vision makes out a face.

He cannot be Diluc. He’s crying. And the last time you have seen Duluc cry is when—

Oh.

“Don’t cry,” you say weakly. “Don’t cry, Diluc. I’m sorry I wasn’t of much help.” You try to reach out to his cheek. You regret it a split second afterwards because blood stains his cheeks wet from tears. You end up smearing red all over his face.

“Why?” Diluc says, and it sounds guttural, like the words have been punched out from him. “Why, [Name]?” You hear a flurry of footsteps behind. You assume it’s some surviving witness who has gone to call for backup. But you doubt you’ll survive.

You don’t even know why. To begin with, you aren’t even sure if you are in love with him. The swirling butterflies that flutter about when you see him tells him you are, but society’s expectations push those down. You have been in love with him for as long as you can remember; you have loved him. You have annotated every inch of him down to your memory, every contour, every bit. In your dreams he visits you, smiling sweetly. And you try to remember him when you wake up, trying to pretend that he’s still there, that he’s no longer bitter. 

“I don’t know.” Your words come out broken, punctuated by the gurgling of blood from your windpipe. 

It’s a half truth. You love him. You don’t know if you do.

“I’m sorry.”

Diluc is sobbing now. It’s uncharacteristic of him. You are brought back to the night when you saw him break down in front of his father’s corpse. And you aren’t yet a corpse: your heart is still beating faintly, your lips are still moving, your body is still trembling. “There’s a lot of things I wanted to tell you, Diluc.”

“Don’t die,” he pleads fervently. His lips graze your forehead, then—and before you know it, he’s embracing you, his tears wetting your shoulder. His begging is childish. Does he not know that the Archons have long abandoned their people? Does he know the sky is empty, and that no amount of pleads can bring a person back to life? You doubt so. “Don’t die, [Name]. I love you.”

He loves you. You smile. He loves you. Words have never felt so sweet befor, and it curbs the bitterness of death upon your tongue. “I love you, [Name]. I love you, so don’t die.”

He loves his father too. But still his father had perished. Similar to you.

“I’m so happy to hear that,” you smile weakly. Your finger starts to fall. “I’m really happy to hear that.”

You don’t have enough time to say those three words back, but it’s fine.

Your actions already did. 

ZHONGLI

note(s); reader is an adepti, takes place during archon war

A God has seen their fair share of grieving. So have Adepti. Some come with age—it’s normal for mortal alliances to die before those who are immortal, after all. There is also the Archon War, which has already torn away Zhongli’s beloved companion, Guizhong. And everyday he chokes down the bile in his throat and continues to annihilate and fight. He’s always been built for this, after all, he’s an Archon. He’s a ruthless one at that, known for his brutality and his power. And everyday he looks at you and can only pray again and again to Celestia, that you remain alive.

Guizhong and you have both been his favorites since you two have met. It was Guizhong and you first, before Zhongli met you. Both you and Guizhong were best friends; almost; like sisters and brothers. Guizhong was gentle and sweet, reprimanding at times. You were sweet too, but could be more uncouth. Strong language littered your sentences at times, and Zhongli would see it then; the way Guizhong tugged at you to scold you, or the way you would smile at her. Brother and sister.

Naturally, when Zhongli grew close to Guizhong, he grew close to you. It was funny to see that you hardly knew much about history, though Guizhong clearly loved it. And so it was almost a cycle. Whatever Guizhong taught Zhongli, he taught you. Guizhong had remarked a few times, what an incredible person he was to make even you listen to facts you had earlier called boring.

(“You mellowed a lot, Morax,” Guizhong had told him once. “[Name] mellowed you. You really do care alot for him, don’t you?”

“I suppose.”)

Gods aren’t meant to be mellowed. They are meant to be powerful. Strong enough emotionally so as to not bat an eye when it comes to deaths.

But everything falls apart when Guizhong dies.

He sees you fall to the ground, sobbing and sobbing and crying at the loss of your beloved sister. He sees the way  you touch her statue, turned to stone, cradling her face and wishing you were touching soft skin, instead of cold stone. Not sister by blood, but sister in name. He sees the way you break apart after that; Zhongli feels a human sense of emptiness and pain that comes with her death.

It’s all right, he told himself repeatedly. In his grief he has started to flood himself with reassurances. I still have [Name]. I still have [Name]. I still have [Name]. 

He sees the way you lose yourself in battle after that. Your attacks become sloppy, you become more careless. You become more injured. Zhongli never bothered with your skill. You were talented and strong enough. But now he finds himself protecting you the times you stumble, the times you start to choke out sobs during battle, the times you go wild and bloodthirsty against those you assume have contributed to her death. 

Guizhong has said once that he loved you. Zhongli never bothered to think about that. He assumed he would know it himself, when time came. He didn’t need to worry about being in what mortals called a relationship—he would get this war finished with you, become a mortal, and love you freely. It didn’t matter if you didn’t love him. Zhongli could love you at a safe distance. It would all be all right. 

He never imagined your declaration of love towards him would come so easily and devastatingly.

Zhongli sees you struck by a burst of elemental power before anything. He sees the way you shoved him inside; he sees the irony. He was so preoccupied with watching you. He hadn’t seen the enemy crawl up to him or nearly kill him. Like how he was watching you, you were watching him. And now his care has killed you.

“[Name].”

There’s an avalanche of emotions. First, he’s furious. He will leach out the killer and will inflict a thousand times more pain on them. Second, he’s heartbroken. He’s terrified of losing you. He can feel your life ebbing away with each passing moment, and he has seen enough wounds to know no healer can save you. He feels your pulse thrumming beneath your skin and he knows you’re dying.

You smile. It looks more like a grimace. “Just survive this goddamn war.”

Zhongli isn’t sure if he will. He feels like he might kill himself, that he might lay his body down next to yours, so that after death your souls would be intermingled, of sorts. It sounds romantic, but there’s absolutely nothing romantic about your death. He does what the Gods are not supposed to do. He feeds into his humanity; he cries.

“Afterwards, just live as a human. I don’t know. Be a dusty collector of antiques. Be a funeral planner or something strange like that. Just live, okay? You look like you want to die.”

You continue to ramble on. Your sentences become connected with each other. Your eyes start to flutter. Your words become faint and faltering.

“I can’t live with you,” he whispers. “First Guizhong, then you…” it’s all his fault. He should have seen it. He should have been more aware. He should—he should…

It’s too late. You’re dead, and he mourns just like a human; sobbing, aching, and dying a little inside.

For a brief moment Zhongli isn’t a God. 

hope everyone liked it! it’s my first post so im apprehensive haha be sure to like/reblog & leave a comment if u can

[diddybok]

asking best friend!stray kids what you are pt.2

all characters depicted in my writing are from my own imagination and do NOT in any way represent nor reflect the people in real life :)

➩pairing: ot8 x gn!reader

➩genre(s): angst, some fluff

➩warnings: strong language, mentions of sex, some of the boys are still mean, some unhappy endings

➩wc: 9.4k (9433)

➩author’s note: i am so serious if anybody talks to you in a way to undermine, condescend or just simply belittle you and make you feel stupid, pls pls pls cut that person out of your life. even if they’re doing it as a ‘joke’. it never ends well. ily all and you deserve the best of the best, always <3

➩parts: part one

chris | 1.2k (1201) words

After the fourth ring, you swipe the little phone symbol across your screen and the time starts. You watch it go from one second, to the next, and the next, before a deep elongated sigh pulls you out of your trance. 

You put him on speaker, afraid of the way you’d react if you were to hear him so close to you in your ear. You can’t handle that right now. 

“Y/n?” His slightly distorted voice says. You don’t reply, placing the phone down in front of you as you sit and fiddle with the rings on your fingers. 

“Come on sweetheart, say something please. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Chris asks softly. Akin to a parent who would try and get their child to confess to stealing cookies out of the cookie jar. 

You run your hands down your face. You’re annoyed with him, most definitely. But you can’t deny the butterflies that start to flutter in your stomach when he addresses you like that. 

It’s not fair. 

The line is painfully silent for another two minutes. Chris patiently, or rather stubbornly, waiting for you to speak. 

“This…this is harder than I thought it’d be.” You say, your voice croaking slightly as this is the first time you have spoken in a while. 

“Okay. Try not to think too much about it. Just speak your truth, unload it all.” Chris encourages. 

You take a deep breath and run your hands up and down your thighs to stop them from clamming up. 

“You hurt my feelings. You are continuing to hurt my feelings. I feel as if I’m the only one who is missing out on an inside joke that everybody seems to know but me.” You halt, waiting to see if he would have a rebuttal. Except he doesn’t and his silence spurs you on to continue. 

“I thought we were practically dating. I thought that night would be the night that you would ask to be together as a couple. You know, exclusive?” You chuckle bitterly. “So imagine my surprise when you decide to ignore me for a week. Do you know how shitty that felt?” You ask him. 

You can just about hear his breaths. They’re soft and collected. Yet the more you wait for his response that he doesn’t seem to be giving, you are becoming the opposite of that. 

“I asked you a question.” You say curtly. 

“I can see how that would make you feel shitty, yes. For that I am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, but I felt like I fucked everything up for us.” You think he sounded genuine enough when he said that, so you elect yourself to be quiet so he can continue. 

“I should’ve stopped it. Doing it knowing I wasn’t ready for it to happen—like that anyway—was not fair on you. I wouldn’t say that it has complicated things per say, but it has led me to think about a few things.” Chris finishes. 

You sit there, the flaps of the butterfly wings now causing the bile to travel upwards and out. You reach over and grab your water bottle from your bedside table and chug as much as you can. 

“Think about things like what?” You will yourself to say, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand at the water that managed to escape and drip down your chin. 

He doesn’t reply which does not settle your nerves. Especially not after that last sentence he said. Silence is not your friend at this moment. 

“Chris—”

“I think that we should be together.” He practically vomits out. 

Your eyes widen and your eyebrows shoot up to the top of your skull. 

“What!”

“Y/n?”

You both speak at the same time. 

“Oh sorry you go ahead.”

“Sorry, you first.”

You hear a small chuckle over the line as you speak over each other again. He stays silent this time, letting you talk. 

“Are you serious? Like you really mean that? You aren’t playing me for a fool right?” You ask quickly. 

“Yes. Yes. No,” You release a silent scream. “I really do want us. I have always wanted us, but this—you—made me realise that we should’ve made it official a while ago. There were only so many more excuses I could pull out of the bag to mask me taking you out on dates as just ‘best friends hanging out doing questionable things’.” 

Of course, you knew this as you are smart. The excuse he gave when he took you to a rooftop restaurant with candlelights everywhere was certainly not ‘for practice when I get a partner’. Him having your favourite meal prepared and the playlist the two of you made playing in the background? Dead giveaway. 

“Plus it is also totally unrealistic that you as my best friend would splash that much cash on me unless it was because you lost a bet. So I had a feeling I knew something was up. Which I guess is why I got a bit too excited and jumped to the conclusion that we were already a couple.” You say scratching the back of your neck. 

“Not true! I would always buy you things.” Chris corrects. 

“Yeah but you’d always complain whilst doing so. So when you stopped complaining, something had clearly shifted.” You clarify. 

You can envision the eye roll he does paired with the sigh he releases making you laugh. 

There’s another silence that fills the space, albeit this time it is comfortable. Until he sneezes down the line and you catch yourself smiling warmly as you bless him. 

“What happens now? Do we get a level up on our relationship or something? Or do I magically spawn in your arms and you cuddle me until I fall asleep? I’m thinking that sounds like the correct thing to happen next.” He teases. 

“Of course that’s what you think.” 

“Hey, I don’t make the rules, I just work here.” He says in a seductive drawl. 

“You’re still very much in the dog house. Honestly, I feel it’s only fair for me to leave you waiting a week to even see me.” You speak without a hint of sarcasm. 

It goes quiet over the phone again. You look down at your rings, twisting them around your finger gently. 

“Okay…I guess that’s fair.” He finally responds. 

You release a breath you weren't aware you were holding, nodding to yourself in agreement. 

“You’re one hundred percent certain you want this? Want to be together past just best friends?” You clarify. 

“What do you not trust me already? Y/n I want to be with you. I have wanted to be with you. Our communication just wasn’t great. But we will work on it together. Okay?” Chris speaks gently down the phone. 

“Okay.” You say softly. 

Though it will take a day or two for you to get over the fact he didn’t message you for a week, you feel as though a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. 

Whatever the next step of your relationship with Chris is, you’re just relieved that you get to do it together with no more misunderstandings. 

minho | 1.0k (1032) words

You and Minho decided that it would be best for you to discuss your relationship over lunch. He even offered to pay which you certainly were not going to turn down. 

You have been hyping yourself up in front of the mirror for about twenty minutes since Minho said he was en route. If Minho texting you earlier was any indication of how this conversation will go, then you are sure you aren’t silly for practising breathing techniques and how to not make a fool of yourself on a whole. 

You’re getting your jacket when you hear his knock at the door. You know it’s him because he only ever knocks in a pattern. 

Opening the door, you’re glad to see him greet you with a smile on your face. Though that’s how it has always been in your relationship. Even when you fight, you always know to resolve the issue with a smile and to never yell at each other. 

Even though you could tell he was anxious, he was masking it well. Throughout the drive, playing your favourite songs. Even now in the café ordering you your favourite meal when he caught you scanning the menu acting like you didn’t know what you wanted already. 

Safe to say, the both of you calm each other down, which makes this conversation much easier to have. 

“So, let's address the elephant in the room.” You start, taking a sip of your milkshake. 

“I first want to say that whatever we choose to do from this point on, you are not allowed to leave me. Well, you can’t anyways because I am always going to be in your life.” He says with an unwavering smile on his face. 

You hold back your smile and nod, letting him carry on. 

“No I do mean it. I just think that we’d be better off just being…us. You know what I mean?” He says using his hands to emphasise.  

“Mmm, let’s dig a little deeper. I just don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us. Obviously what we shared was nice and I don’t think that we should regret it, right?” You say with a tilt of your head. 

“I agree. I had a think about it whilst I drove to your house to pick you up and I don’t think it was fair of me to question what we did. In terms of making you think that I felt that it wasn’t right of us to do.” Minho explains. He looks around before leaning in slightly. “Especially since that was the best sex I have had in months.” He throws a wink your way and you have to stop yourself from taking a bow. 

Him saying that feels as though numerous weights have been lifted off of your shoulders. You were most anxious about whether he either hated it or thought it was a mistake. So you’re now glad to hear that neither of it was the case. 

The waiter comes over with your food and you thank them. You’re about to pick up your fork and take a bite of food to fuel your courage but you’re abruptly tutted at. 

“Just because we are in the midst of an important conversation does not mean we skip tradition.” Minho says, raising his eyebrow at you. 

You place the fork down and put up a peace sign as you pose. He takes out his camera and snaps a photo of you with both his and your meal in the frame. He then puts his middle finger up and poses with an over exaggerated bored expression. You chuckle to yourself before taking the photo. 

“You said that we moved too fast assuming that we were moving in the first place. Do you still think that now?” You say before taking a bite of your meal. 

He finishes his mouthful as he furrows his eyebrows and thinks about your question. 

“Well I mean, I’d be an idiot to say that I didn’t think that it wouldn’t be going anywhere. But for us right now, I don’t think we should be moving at all.” He speaks. 

The food you are swallowing seems to get a little stuck as you start to quietly choke. All the while Minho grows increasingly embarrassed at your lack of ability to stay alive. 

“Okay calm, people are starting to look over.” He says to you, pouring you a glass of water from the jug on the table. 

You take a few gulps and tap your chest.

“Damn. You shouldn’t say things like that when I’m mid chew.” You scold. 

“My apologies, from now on I shall wait until the food has made its descent to the pit of acid in your stomach.” He lightly chuckles. 

“So what I’m hearing is that all things considered romantically, we should stop. So we just continue on as friends?” You clarify. 

He nods. 

“Hit the nail on the head.”

“Right…I mean I guess that works. After all, we were friends before we got curious so I’m pretty sure we can just laugh about it and carry on.” You smile albeit quite painfully. 

“Yes of course! We were just curious…” Minho adds, a painful smile also etched onto his features. 

Can you just laugh about it and carry on? Even when it felt so natural? So…right?

There’s a silence pregnant with awkwardness as you and Minho avoid each other’s gazes and continue to eat. 

Akin to a supporting artist having a cue to interact with the leads of a movie, the waiter comes over to ask if everything was alright with the food. 

You both bombard him with praise and he seems a little taken aback and hurries away to the next table. 

You don’t lie to Minho often, much like he doesn’t lie to you. However, in this café it seems the two of you are egregious liars. Which explains the way you both see right through each other. 

You know that it’s only a matter of time until something happens again because unfortunately you have crossed the line. Let’s just hope you can go at least a month before you’re entangled in each other's arms again. 

changbin | 1.1k (1120) words

One, two, three knocks on your door. You approach it slowly, looking through the peephole to see Changbin standing in his big puffer jacket and gloves. 

You consider letting him stay in the cold a little longer, but the goodness in your heart wills your hand to open the door. 

“Come in quickly, it’s cold.” You order. 

He doesn’t dally with his movements, coming inside quickly as you shut the door behind him. It’s quiet as he takes off his shoes and coat, giving you a mildly awkward smile that was still dulcet. 

“I was just making breakfast, would you like some?” You offer, walking into the kitchen. 

“Oh, yes please that’d be nice thank you.” He says, following after you. 

The atmosphere feels a little strange and you aren’t used to it. Changbin hasn’t yelled at all since stepping foot inside and usually you would’ve threatened the duct tape on his mouth by now. 

You engage in some aimless chit chat with him whilst you cook. You figured you would ease into this conversation rather than just immediately diving head first. 

“I like what you’ve done with the place.” Changbin admires as he looks around your kitchen. 

You turn to him, bewildered. 

“I haven’t changed my kitchen since I moved in here, bin.” You establish. 

“Really? Oh. I thought there was something different about this place in the week and a bit that I have been gone.” He says with genuinity. 

“Why would I have changed my kitchen around in the week that you’ve been gone?” You ask. 

He shrugs, stealing a blueberry from the bowl when your back is turned from him. 

“I don’t know. Some people dye or cut their hair when they’re upset. I figured since you like your hair too much, you would’ve changed the next best thing.” He solidifies, feeling much too content with the way his brian works. 

You on the other hand aren’t sure whether you’re being tested or if this is truly how he is choosing to behave.

You plate up the food and as you’re about to slide his plate over to him, you pull it back. 

“For every question answered, you get a mouthful of food.” At this, Changbin gawks. 

“This seems illegal in some form or another.” He sulks. 

You open up your phone to your conversation with him. 

“So it says here that you didn’t want to mess up our friendship, but emotions were running high and we weren’t thinking about the consequences. What consequences would that be?” You state. 

He looks at you quizzically. 

“Why do I feel like I’m in court right now? You’re reading the text messages out like evidence and I’m scared.” He says laughing awkwardly. 

“You answer the question. You get to eat.” You redirect. He clears his throat before he begins. 

“Well the consequences would be, erm, how us sleeping together will create ripples in our friendship whether we like it or not. I mean I’m not saying I regret it fully…but maybe a tiny bit?” He says fiddling with his hands. 

He opens his mouth wide as he awaits your end of the deal. You pick up the fork and scoop up some food before you feed it to him. 

For people who aren’t a couple, you sure do act like it. 

“Why is that?” You press further. 

“Because I didn’t want something like this to happen. By that I mean, if we were going to go all the way, then we should have established what we were prior. Even though our friends may think we are a couple, it wasn’t exclusively spoken about between us.” A beat. “But now I think that by letting ourselves get carried away, we missed the opportunity to settle things out with both of us clear on where we stand in our relationship.” He finishes. 

You decide to give him two mouthfuls for that answer to which he hums happily in response. 

You cannot doubt that what he said makes sense. You should have spoken about what you guys were before engaging in something as intimate as sleeping with each other. 

Yet for two people who have already gone to second base countless times before and couldn’t control the libido this time, you also understand where things got messy. 

“I think I get where you’re coming from now.” You say, eating your own mouthful. 

Changbin nods in acknowledgment before stealing a handful of blueberries. 

“But you also said that you still wanna be my best friend. Is that still true? Do you think we can get past this?” You ask apprehensively. 

Changbin’s eyebrows furrow in disbelief. 

“Of course! To both of your questions. Look at us, we’ve lasted this long. Yeah so I’ve been inside you, that’s fine! At least we had a good time, right? We can say that we’ve done it and gotten it out of our system.” He exclaims. 

You pull a face at the last sentence and he is immediately scrambling to reword what he means. 

“No, I don't see it as a throwaway act! I meant that because we had been stopping at second base because we were too scared to take it all the way, we finally reached the goal.” He stammers. 

You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms. 

“No I don’t mean that sleeping with you was the goal, if anything it was off the pitch.” He tries to explain. 

A single tilt of your head was all that was needed in order for him to slam his head into his hands and mutter a ‘I give up’. 

You shake your head and slide the plate over to him as you move across the island to sit on the stall next to him. You place an arm around his shoulder as he sighs. 

“I don’t want to lose you as my best friend too, bin. Let’s just take it one day at a time, yeah? What happened, happened. Now we both know where we stand about our friendship, it’s okay.”

He lifts his head from his palms and looks over you with his big black eyes. 

“You mean that? Like actually? We’re good?” He asks. You laugh slightly. 

“Yes bin, we’re good.” You reassured him. 

“Oh thank God. Does that mean I can still call you my sweet—”

“One day at a time.” You say sternly. 

The both of you smile as you finish the rest of your breakfast. There’s a twinge of hurt that you feel for you and Changbin not going forward as a couple, but you would rather this than to lose him forever. 

So for now, you’ll cherish what an amazing friendship the two of you have and will continue to have. 

hyunjin | 1.1k (1113) words

“Y/n open the fucking door.” You mimic Hyunjin’s last text message to you aloud as you walk down the stairs. 

You were by no means rushing to get to the door, if anything, you think that standing right by it for a good two minutes or so to really irritate him would make you feel much better than you currently do. 

Hyunjin continuously banging on the door pulls you out of your stubborn demeanour. If not for your neighbours, you’d have let him continue to bang against the door until his knuckles bruised. 

Yet it seems your night couldn’t get any worse considering you’ve just taken a fist to the face. Perhaps that was your fault for catching him off guard when he was vigorously knocking as he appeared to have ‘knocked’ your face instead of the door. 

“Oh fuck! Y/n!” Hyunjin yells as he cradles your face in his hands. You appreciate the gesture, you do, he was still your best friend after all. But if this wasn’t the cherry on top of the cake then you don’t know what is. 

“Yep, good to see you too hyune.” You groan. 

You scrunch your face as your hand moves to soothe your forehead. Shrugging out of his hold, you step inside of your home, trusting that he would follow suit and shut the door behind him. 

“Y/n darling I am so sorry. I promise I didn’t mean to knock against…your forehead.” He speaks with utmost genuinity as he shadows behind you. 

You don’t say anything as you just grab yourself some frozen peas wrapped in a tea towel before moving to your living room to make yourself comfortable on the sofa as you wait for him to explain everything. 

You’re thankful that he seems to be getting the hints tonight. He takes his place beside you, worry etched onto his beautiful face. 

Damn his prince-like features…

“Explain yourself then, since texting wasn’t working for you.” You spit. He bites his lip nervously and fidgets with his hands before his eyes look from the bag of peas until falling onto your own. 

“When…when I said I didn’t want you as my best friend, I meant because we can’t just go back to being best friends after that. It would just kill me knowing that you aren’t mine even after the night we shared.”  He starts. 

You sit still and listen, switching hands since the frozen peas were adding to the chill you already had from the conversation that loomed over your head. 

“I don’t want you as my best friend because I want you to be mine. I want to be yours. I want us.  Together.”

You wince. There’s a small part of you that just doesn’t believe him. You place down the now damp tea towel that holds the slowly melting peas. 

He looks at you, trying to read your reaction, but you were giving nothing away. 

“I just wanna know what was going through your head all those nights we spent together. We may not have had sex, but we did everything else. The cuddles, the kisses—when you familiarise yourself with every inch of my body—it would make sense that I thought we were something more than just best friends.”

He breaks eye contact, his interest now on the rings he adorns on his fingers. You can tell he is trying to think of something to say, so you wait patiently. 

“I understand if you feel like I may have been using you.” He acquiesces in meeting your gaze, but he persists. “It hadn’t really occurred to me that you may have thought of us as more than best friends. Granted, instead of sitting in my uncertainty I should have just asked you. Then that night happened and it hit me. Afterwards, I just knew that I shouldn’t have let it get that far.”

You feel nauseous. You can’t decipher exactly what that was supposed to mean. You look over at the now wet kitchen towel. 

“So you do regret it?” You pressed, your voice soft. 

He holds his hands out and shakes his head as he quickly refutes his words. 

“No of course not! I just meant that I know I should have asked you about us before that happened. I didn’t want it to be the case that you felt that I was not serious about us. ‘Cause having sex with someone is serious and I never wanted you to think I was playing around with your feelings.” He finishes. 

You sit there thinking about what he said. Maybe he was being sincere. Maybe he really does want what you thought the two of you had for the past couple of months. 

“How can I know that you aren’t just saying this? That you feel somewhat obligated to make us a thing because of the fact we slept with each other?” You ask. 

“Because I was too much of a coward to say this earlier.” He speaks without missing a beat. 

He scoots closer to you on the sofa, his hands providing warmth in yours. You don’t mean to dither, but you can’t help but weigh all the options. Hyunjin tilts his head to try and meet your eyes.

“I know you’re thinking about all of the things that could go wrong. About all of the things that could go right. What I could be for you in a day, a week, a month or even a year.” He cups your cheek, his thumb gently stroking beneath your eye. “But just be with me in this present moment. Think about what I could be for you now.” He says quietly. 

After some time, you lift your head to meet his gaze, the faintest smile on your lips. 

“Okay.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened in shock and by the look on his face, you were certain that he thought you were going to reject him. 

“O-okay? You’re sure?” He presses. 

“I’m sure. I can tell you truly meant what you said and I think this would be the better outcome for us. I don’t think I could picture my life without you in it.” You admit. 

“Then I promise you won’t ever have to picture it because I won’t leave you. I won’t leave you, Y/n.” Hyunjin declares. 

You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips. You aren’t sure whether your head is throbbing from your injury or the thrill that comes with you and Hyunjin finally being together. 

You just hope that Hyunjin is able to keep his promise that he won’t ever leave you; and that in the end, you made the right decision. 

jisung | 1.1k (1115) words 

You and Jisung sit on your sofa with a cup of tea in both of your hands. It’s been ten minutes since he has arrived and not one word has been said between the two of you. 

That’s how things usually are between you and him though. You don’t particularly need to say anything to know what the other one needs. 

However, you fear that your senses haven’t quite been tingling like they ought to be. Since what you thought was commonly shared between both parties has seemed to only be dumped into one. 

An unrequited love is always bound to end in heartbreak and you’re sure that is how today is going to end. 

“Is it just me or do things feel a little odd?” Jisung says breaking the ice, but in a way which has submerged the two of you in ice cold water. 

“Well I think I would be a little more fraught if things didn’t feel odd.” You add. 

You aren’t exactly happy with him at the moment either. In fact you think it’s in his best interest to explain just what he meant in those text messages. 

“Explain yourself then.” You say not beating around the bush. 

Jisung places his mug down before turning to you. 

“I wanna start by saying I’m sorry. I’m sorry for how I worded what I was trying to say in those texts. You aren’t stupid Y/n, I promise. I’m the one that’s being stupid.” He meets your gaze and you give him a single nod. 

“The truth is, I don’t think I’m ready to have a relationship with you.” 

If your feelings are hurt, you will yourself not to show it on your face. Except your face goes pallid as you feel the knife stab directly into your beating heart. 

“Then why make it seem as if we were? Why not shut it down? Better yet, why use me to get your rocks off and make me think that I am going to amount to more than just your best friend?” Your voice croaks, unable to hide the emotion you’re feeling. 

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. 

“I can’t give you a definite answer of why I did all of that right now.” He says quietly. 

You can’t help the scoff that falls from your mouth. 

“What the fuck Ji? Why are you even here then? What are we even doing?!” You say starting to grow more upset. 

His eyes widen slightly as he looks at you. He places a hand on your arm and is surprised when you don’t shrug him away. 

“I promise I don’t mean to vex you, I just don’t have an answer because I don’t know. I just know that us having slept together made things seem…real. Like we were actually happening. When in actuality we weren’t and never will be.” 

That was a punch to your gut so hard that your body viscerally reacted to his words and hunched over slightly. You can’t believe what you’re hearing. 

This can’t be the Jisung that you were friends with for so long. No, he would never say something so outright. 

It’s as if he hasn’t even registered what he just said because his face is that of worry as to why you are stunned silent. 

“Jisung,” he winces at the use of his full name. “What did you expect to happen between us? Be honest, don’t say that you don’t know.” You speak gently. 

He thinks for a moment, his hand slipping from your arm as he uses it to fiddle with the zipper of his jacket.

“I just expected for us to play around and not take it to the next step. I just wanted a bit of fun with my best friend. That’s not so bad is it?” He confesses, looking at his feet. 

The knife is pushed deeper. 

You honestly aren’t sure how to react. What to say or even do. So you sit in silence. 

Minutes go by and all you can hear are the hum of the electronics in the room and the breathing of Jisung. He always has been a loud breather. 

A clearing of the throat pulls you out of your trance. 

“Please say something, anything.” He pleads. You slowly turn your face towards him. 

“What would you like me to say Jisung? I have just found out that my best friend—you—has been using me for shits and giggles and being a total ignorant asshole while he does so.” You retort. 

He shakes his head as he frowns at your words. 

“No, no I’m not the bad guy here. I didn’t use you just for that. Why would I do that Y/n? You mean more to me than that.” He runs his hand through his brown locks, getting frustrated. “Look, I don’t think we should blow this too much out of proportion. We did something that we shouldn’t have and now we just have to move on.” He says. 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“You’re my best friend Y/n. You know me inside and out. Maybe I haven’t been so transparent with you lately. I just think that I need to figure out some stuff on my own because clearly everything I say is hurting you and I hate the way I hurt you. Fuck, just seeing your face now, knowing I was the cause. I can’t do this. Not anymore.” He says solemnly. 

You blink. The tears trickle down your cheeks as you take into account what he is saying. 

No. This isn’t your Jisung. Just give him some time and he’ll be back. He’ll come back. 

“What are you saying to me Ji?” He places a hand on your cheek before standing up and putting on his shoes. 

You immediately get up and follow him to the front door. 

“Jisung.” You whisper. He opens the door and steps out, stopping and turning to you once more. 

“I’m always gonna be in your corner Y/n. Okay? Always.” Jisung says as he smiles sadly at you and turns away from your door. 

Watching him leave feels like the knife is twisting uncontrollably. You shut your door, not wanting to see him in case you’ll do something stupid like run and stop him from walking out of your life. 

You’re angry, you’re hurt, you’re confused. You’re in a state of shock. Was that a goodbye? Will you ever see him again?

You cover your mouth with your hand as you sob quietly as reality sets in. You had just lost the man you had fallen for, your best friend. 

You aren’t sure if he is ever coming back. 

felix | 1.0k (1077) words

The sun is setting and you find yourself in the familiar skatepark which you and Felix frequently visit to hang out. 

This was a first, you getting here before him. It felt uncanny, especially since the skatepark is an empty void. It’s not like you’re here at the late hours of the night which is what you guys usually do, so where are the people?

As you sit atop the ramp wondering this, Felix climbs up and sits next to you. 

“Hey Y/n.” He greets. No remark about you being here before him for a change. You face him and greet him with a small smile. 

“The sky is pretty this evening. Any particular reason for why you wanted to meet at our spot earlier than usual?” He asks you. 

“I knew the sky would be worth seeing from here today. I also wanted to be able to see your face when you lie.” You deadpan. 

He audibly swallows at this which makes you chuckle and start to swing your feet. 

“I’m kidding. Just wanted to watch the sun go down.” You tease. 

It’s silent, bar the birds chirping and the rustle of the leaves as the wind dances through the trees. 

“So about what happened with us,” Felix starts. “You think that we are more than just best friends?” He asks. You hum in acknowledgement. 

“I thought we were more than best friends for a while. You know, since this whole shebang started. The sex was just what I thought was you being ready to take our relationship further. Though that was foolish of me to think and not double check with you.”

Felix, now turnt to face towards the sunset, is quiet as he takes into consideration what you have just said. 

“It wasn’t foolish.” He says ever so quietly. 

Your legs still their movement as you turn to look at him. His face is being kissed nicely by the sun right now, his freckles practically glowing. 

“Of course it was foolish Felix. Or else we wouldn’t be here now.” You smile as you tip your head back and close your eyes, letting the last of the sun’s warmth seep through your skin. 

“No. It wasn’t foolish because I was ready. Okay that’s not entirely true, I caught feelings months ago but I only became sure about them during that week I was away.” He softly speaks. 

You drop your head and look towards him. His eyes are still glued to the vast blanket of orange and yellow across the horizon. 

“But that’s not what you said in those text messages. You said that you think that boundary shouldn’t have been crossed in the first place. Yet now you’re saying this? Forgive me Felix, but I’m finding it hard to believe what’s coming out of your mouth.” You sigh.  

He finally turns and looks at you, a small scowl on his face. 

“I know what I said in the texts Y/n. I don’t go back on my word. I do think a boundary was crossed and as best friends it shouldn’t have been.” A beat. “Though that doesn’t mean that I don’t feel something towards you. That’s why I’m so confused.” He turns his head back towards the sky, the deep shade of blue starting to make itself evident. 

“Like I said, I didn’t expect to catch feelings for you and then have sex with you.” He finishes. 

You lay down, watching the dark grey clouds move. 

“Do you remember much of that night?” You ask. 

“Of course I do. How could I ever forget. I mean we are literally sitting on the ramp that it happened on.” He reminisced. 

“Remember when I told you that I was yours and you were mine? That was probably said in the heat of the moment, but I meant it Felix. I’m not the kind of person who says things for the sake of saying them. Plus, I’m not focused on anybody other than you.” You say, closing your eyes again as the cool air brushes against your face. 

Though your eyes are closed, you sense that Felix was staring at you. You hear his clothes rustle before you’re wrapped up in his arms. 

He is cuddling you. 

“Doll, I’m sorry. I didn’t just say those things because we were high off oxytocin. You really mean so much to me. I don't want us to argue, I just want us to be together. For real. No hesitations, no take backs. Just you and me living how we do, but together as one.”

You can feel something wet drip into the crook of your neck. You know it’s not raining so you figure he has started to cry. 

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings Y/n. It’s not what I wish to ever do to the person I love.” He sobs. 

You open your eyes as you hear his admittance. The person he loves. The person he loves. 

“You love me?”

“I’m in love with you. I was trying to make sense of if I truly meant it over that week and I reacted like I did earlier because I know you didn’t love me back. I was embarrassed.” He confessed. 

You turn over in his arms as you grab ahold of his face. It’s dark now, but a nearby light creates a twinkle in his eyes. 

“I want you to be sure that this is what you want. You don’t have to promise me forever, but promise me that this is truly what you want until it isn’t.” You say gently. 

His bottom lip wobbles slightly as he takes a deep breath in then out. 

“I am sure. I promise. I love you, I’m in love with you. I want us to be best friends. I want us to be lovers. I want it all. I want you.” He whispers against your lips. 

You smile, wiping his tears away with your thumb. 

“Okay, me too. We’re locked in?” You hold up your pinky. 

“We’re locked in.” He connects his pinky with yours and pulls your face in to kiss you softly. 

The two of you lay there in each other’s arms for the rest of that evening until a security guard ushered the two of you away. 

As you walk hand in hand down the street, you’re just glad that you have this ball of sunshine all to yourself. For as long as time allows. 

seungmin | 1.5k (1518) words 

You were nervous. More nervous than you expected yourself to get. Which is probably how you find yourself scrambling to get your phone, sending Seungmin a message to say that you don’t want to meet up and would rather just call. 

His reply after reading your message was to immediately dial you up, leaving no time for you to think about what you’re going to say and how you’re going to say it. 

You answer the phone with baited breath. 

“Why didn’t you want to meet me? You nervous or something?” He says very straightforwardly. 

Yes. 

“No. Just realised that I have things to do and I can multitask if I speak with you over the phone.” You lie. 

You hear him sigh on the other side of the line. 

“I’d rather you weren’t multitasking whilst we are having an important conversation about us. Pay attention.”

Your jaw clenches as you bite your tongue. 

“Fine. Since you want to be such an adult about this, why don’t you do us the honour and start us off?” You quip. 

“You already know how I feel about that night. About us blurring those lines between friendship and something more. We shouldn’t have. Having said that, I value our friendship too much to let something like that fuck it up.” Seungmin says plainly. 

You roll your eyes, not understanding what exactly he means by that. 

“Okay…but you do realise that us sleeping together has changed everything, right?” You say unwavering in your tone. 

“Wrong.”

You waited for him to finish what you hoped would be a longer sentence, but all you could hear was the minor feedback from the other end of the line. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you try again. 

“What do you mean, wrong? Things can’t go back to normal after that night, shit, after everything that’s happened between us.” You exclaim. 

“And I’m not saying they have to—”

“You are absolutely not still using me as a way to blow your load Seungmin.” You interrupt harshly. 

You hear him groan on the other end of the phone to which you decide to put him on speakerphone and place him on your bed. You wipe your face with your hands in frustration as you wait for him to speak. 

“I’m not going to do this with you if you’re going to be angry for starters. Especially if you’re going to be interrupting me. Got it?” He asserts. 

You release a huff of air, choosing to stay quiet in regards to what he has just said, but you reluctantly agree. 

“Fine, sorry. Carry on.” You say as nicely as you can muster up. 

“What I’m saying is I care about you Y/n. I don’t think it’s fair that people have also been feeding you troubles about our friendship. It’s between us and not them. They don’t know what the fuck is going on and I’ll be getting on their asses for that later, but right now my focus is on you.” He explains. 

You stay quiet, noting the fact that he is now outside and walking. 

“Seungmin, you can’t seriously fault our friends for noticing something you were determined to ignore. We were doing things couples do!”

“But we aren’t a couple. That is what I’m trying to get at Y/n.” He says exasperated. You hear a police siren go by on his end of the line which muffles the last part of his sentence. 

“Then why even do all that with me? Of course I was going to catch feelings. I’d be stupid not to!” You exclaim, resting your head in your hands. 

He’s quiet. The only sounds to be heard is the distorted traffic. You sit there unmoving, wondering why he isn’t speaking. 

A loud series of knocks on your door jolt you out of your trance. 

“One second, someone is at my door.” You alert Seungmin. Putting on your slippers, you rush to the door. You open it and you feel your face run cold. 

Seungmin huddles over, catching his breath before he makes a show to end the call between the two of you. 

“I am not having this conversation with you over a fucking phone.” He pants. 

He lets himself in, your mind still boggled at the fact that he chose to fast walk over here just to have this conversation. You’re both touched and terrified. Touched because he seems to really care about talking about your relationship in person. Terrified because this is getting much more serious than you thought it was. 

It’s times like these where you wish you and Seungmin hadn’t planned to live so close together. Now you have no choice but to face him in the flesh. 

In the time that you were finally able to come to your senses and shut your front door, Seungmin had taken off his shoes and jacket and was standing behind you waiting. 

He grabs ahold of your hand and leads you to your own bedroom. 

“Seungmin, I don't want to have angry sex with you.” You blurt out. You could’ve sworn you heard him chuckle, but he’s already sitting you on the edge of your bed. 

He places his hands on your shoulders and imitates taking a deep breath in and out. 

“No, that is not what I’m here to do.” He crawls up to the top of your bed and sits resting against the headboard. “I am here to make amends and stop what shouldn’t have started in the first place.” He says calmly. 

You have to hold your stomach to try and soothe the impending vomit that is about to ascend up and out of your mouth. 

“I’m gonna be honest with you Seungmin. What you did, knowing you never wanted it to happen or go this far, was not cool. I’m not saying you’re to blame for the whole of it…but as someone who was catching feelings and seemingly thought you were as well, I genuinely thought that us continuing to be intimate with each other was because you liked me.” You finish. 

As you sit crossed-legged at the foot of the bed and Seungmin sits at the head, you start to feel this strange disconnect between the two of you. 

Seungmin sits there silent, clearly thinking of something to say in response. 

“I…I think I didn’t stop it because it felt good.” He says. 

“Good because it was us or good because you had someone to calm your sexual frustrations?” You ask. 

The way he hesitates to answer and hold eye contact with you tells you everything you need to know. 

You let out a scoff, getting up from your bed and starting to pace laps in your room. 

“I cannot believe this. You were the last person who I thought would do this to me.” You say, pointing an accusatory finger at him. 

“Y/n you know I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I-I care about you!” He says now getting up from the bed. 

He goes to reach out and grasp your arm but you step out of his way, causing him to stumble slightly. 

Not only are you fighting your tears, but you are battling your inner turmoil. Something like this would deem him unfit to stay in your life, no?

You couldn’t possibly still be his closest friend if he truly just used you for pleasure, right?

“Y/n please look at me.” He says, his hands now balling up besides his legs. 

“I can’t do this anymore. I want you to leave.” You speak barely above a whisper. 

“What?”

“I want. You. To leave.” Your voice cracks slightly, but you turn around to face him. His eyes are wide and his mouth hangs open, as if he isn’t quite sure that this is what you mean. 

Taking the initiative, you walk out of your bedroom and to your front door. You hear his footsteps behind you, murmuring a few ‘waits’ and ‘calm downs’. Grabbing his jacket, you shove it in his chest and step back. 

Your arms are wrapped around yourself for comfort as you keep your head held low. 

Seungmin silently puts on his jacket and shoes and reaches for the door handle. Yet, as he is about to open the door, he pauses midway through his movement. 

“Leave your house or leave you forever?” He says disconcertingly. 

You lift your head up, his back facing you. You assess him for only a moment. His hand that strangles the door handle shakes slightly and his other hand grasps his jacket. 

“Both.” You choke. 

He doesn’t miss a beat. Swinging open the door and leaving without looking back. 

Just like that, all those years of friendship cut abruptly due to the confounding circumstances that conspired between the two of you. 

Some could say it was rather quixotic of you to expect that you could actually have a relationship with Seungmin. 

Though you would just say that perhaps falling in love with your best friend was never the right path, but one you were unfortunate enough to take. 

i.n | 1.2k (1257) words

You can’t control the way you feel. You’re hurt. You’re beyond angry. You’re hysterical. How dare he talk to you like that? How dare he disregard everything the two of you have been through because he wants to stay your ‘best friend’?

You well and truly can’t promise that you won’t blow up on him when he gets here. That’s if he even bothers to show up. He’s already twenty minutes late and you’re sitting in the cold, on a park bench, drinking your hot chocolate.

“Y/n!” Jeongin calls out to you as he walks over to sit beside you on the bench.

“Where’s mine?” He says, his voice laden with sarcasm as he points to your drink. He quirks his eyebrow at you as he assesses your mood and it certainly isn’t one accommodating his jokes at the moment. 

Breathe…breathe…

He turns to face you, one leg crossed beneath him as his arm rests on the back of the bench, his gloved fingers tapping a beat on your shoulder. 

“Are you feeling better now? You’re gonna talk this out with me like the adults we are, hm?” He smiles.

You turn to face him, unable to mask your ire. 

“Just best friends huh?” You speak for the first time in a while. 

Jeongin stops tapping your shoulder to run his fingers through his hair. Tugging his coat closer around him to provide some sort of warmth to not only protect himself from the bitter chill of the air, but the icy look in your eyes.

“I admit, crossing those lines with you was never my intention. Being that I didn’t kiss or sleep with you because I wanted a relationship with you. I guess I was just lonely, you were available…tensions were high and we couldn’t control ourselves.”

You actually feel your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. This is not the Jeongin you knew and loved as your best friend. No, he was far nicer than what you’re currently faced with.

You are rendered speechless. The only thing you can think to do is take another sip of your hot chocolate.

It would be ideal if your hands stopped shaking.

“You get where I’m coming from though right? Like I said, I care for you. More than anybody else I know, but what we did was a mistake and that’s okay. We’ll know to never let those boundaries be crossed again alright?” He says placing a hand on your thigh.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Y/n–”

“Jeongin get your hand off of me, now.”

The smile that you used to adore, now falls from his face. His lips thinning as his jaw clenches and his gaze hardens.

“I genuinely thought that you had reason to be so pissy at me, you know, due to your work being so busy and all,” You laugh bitterly. “But you really are just a fucking asshole.”

He rolls his eyes and moves to get up before your hand reaches out to stop him.

“Sit the fuck down, I’m not done with you. I’m only going to say it once.” You say acrimoniously. 

Heeding your warning, he sits back down, his hands finding solace in his lap. 

“See, I was speaking with Hyunjin when you were supposedly too busy to talk to me and he gave me some pretty good advice.” You say finishing the rest of your drink and setting it aside. 

“What are you doing asking him for advice? He has no business knowing what goes on between the two of us, let alone an argument.” He spits.

Ignoring his disapproval, you elect yourself to continue. 

“He said that you don’t deserve me in your life. That a best friend would never, should never treat me like that–”

“Oh bull-fucking-shit! He is only saying that so that he can gets his filthy hands on you himself.” He interrupts, shaking his head as he looks beyond the lake at the horizon.

“I agree.” 

Jeongin nods his head in approval to your words. 

“You don’t deserve me in your life.”

His head snaps to yours as he sits up straight, clasping his hands together as he tilts his head.

“What?”

“I am not your little fucktoy for you to use whenever you get sick of your hand. I’m not the easy option because I’m the closest you can get to getting off without people catching on. You know because we’re best friends, right? No one will suspect a thing, right?”

You have started, gone past the point of no return as you lay into him and rightfully so. 

“I thought you had calmed down from earlier? What, did you discuss with Hyunjin all of the things to say to me before I got here? The fuck does he know? He doesn’t even know you like I do!” He exclaims, his voice raising in pitch. 

You gawk, unable to believe how he just bypassed what you said to talk shit about his friend. 

“This isn’t about Hyunjin for fuck’s sake! This is about us! Or rather the lack of.” You stand up, taking deep breaths as you pace in front of him back and forth. “You keep talking to me like I’m some fucking child. Like I can’t comprehend the words that are coming out of my mouth.”

You stop in front of him, sighing. 

“I don’t want to be in your life anymore. I’m done.”

His eyes widen as he grasps ahold of your hands, his thumbs rubbing over your knuckles.

“You don’t mean that. You’re just angry. You want me to apologise? Okay sure. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have used you like that and let it get that far knowing I wasn’t ready for a relationship.” He begs. 

You feel your eyes start to well up with tears. This isn’t how you imagined a six year friendship to end, but alas, here the two of you are. 

He stands now, moving his hands to cup your cheeks, his eyes darting between yours. 

“Come on. Let’s not act rash now Y/n. It was a mistake.” He keeps trying to reassure you. 

You shake his hands off of your face as you take a step back. 

“It wasn’t a mistake for me. It never was and never will be because I didn’t just see you as someone who was available. I’m serious, I won’t be treated like shit. Not anymore and certainly not by you.” You affirm. 

He lets his hands fall to his sides, his fists clenching. 

“So this is it huh? You really wanna leave me, leave six years of friendship because you got your feelings hurt?” He asks. 

“Fuck you, Jeongin. Don’t contact me ever again. I’m finished.” You say scoffing a laugh. 

You pick up your empty cup and start to walk away, not bothering to turn back to see how he reacts. Only then do you let the tears run marathons down your face. 

Little did you know, his fists unclenched and his hands were brought to his face. He collapses onto the bench, watching your figure get smaller and smaller until he can no longer see you. 

It was in that moment, where Jeongin only just realised how royally he had fucked up. His head falls into his hands as he takes deep breaths. 

The smoke caused from the cold air and the warmth of his mouth floating along the sky. Much like you, floating out of his life and disappearing. Lost to the abyss of a forever memory in his heart. 

a/n: the plate is still full i fear because why do i hate this so much AHSGAIA SGAISBSKSVG (i apologise. i said i would deliver, but the package got lost in transit)

ʚ hope you enjoyed ^.^ you can support me by liking, commenting  and reblogging! it is heavily appreciated ᵕ̈ ɞ

i do not permit my work to be translated or reposted in any way, thank you. 

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[princessbrunette]

can’t get the slasher au in the campcounselor!jj universe out of my mind, so have this.

the two of you being held up in your cabin together with the door bolted and jj is hammering nails needles and screws into a baseball bat. anything he can find really. he came barging through your door so fast that you thought you were next the second he stumbled on a body. his first thought was you, and how he needed to protect you because he didn’t think he’d be able to handle seeing the girl he was pretty sure he was in love with in a pool of blood.

“so why don’t they just call the police? instead of telling us to just stay in our cabins and lock the doors?” you rant, panicked and unable to be still for even a moment as you pace up and down the room.

“so uh, apparently this killer is like a genius of sorts n’cut the connection. s’why the wifi ain’t workin’ and no calls are goin’ through.” he glances up at you as he gives his hammer a few final taps against the nail in his bat. he waves a finger around in a circle in gesture to the lamps dotted around, still working. “these bad boys are solar powered though, thank god.”

“cant they send someone to go and get help? i know we’re in the middle of nowhere but there’s gotta be someone out there.” you shake your head, mostly at the poor organisational skills behind the camp owners and their lack of emergency plans.

“sent our one security dude to go n’drive ’til he finds someone. that was three hours ago so uh… safe to say it’s not lookin’ good.” jj grimaces and your face falls, hopeless as you flop into the seat.

“we are so screwed, jj.” you mewl, which forces him to tear his attention away from his makeshift weapon.

“hey, don’t talk like that okay you got me n’ this badass weapon n’i’m not gonna let anything happen to you okay so… positive thoughts. please.”

a minute of silence passes, before the quiet is filled by the sound of heavy rain coming down on the window. “hm. pathetic fallacy.” you hum and jj’s brow shoots up, glancing over to you once more.

“uh, what’d you call me?”

“wh— no. its a literary device. it means when the weather in a story reflects the overall mood of the events unfolding.” you explain with a sigh, drawing patterns on the table infront of you with your finger nail. jj ticks his head, continuing on with his project.

“smart and pretty.” he comments casually yet quietly, not bothering to look up now. despite everything, you let a little smile bite the corners of your lips.

“you think i’m pretty?”

“i said smart too. damn, talk about conceited.” he jests, glancing up at you with a smirk to ensure you knew he was teasing you. you can’t help but giggle, staring at him for a moment as you lock eyes.

“jj?”

he blinks, almost like he’s surprised to hear his own name being said.

“wh— yeah?”

“thanks for comin’ here to protect me. i was really scared without you.”

the blonde clears his throat, trying to get used to the whole being sincere thing. “oh, uh. yeah. no shweat.” he responds in his usual silly jj way, telling you he doesn’t know how to respond to people genuinely complimenting him. it’s kind of cute, behind the whole confident class-clown bravado.

“you promise if i die tonight you’ll reapply my lip gloss for me? i can’t have the forensic people finding me lookin’ all busted. that would be embarrassing.” you try to lighten the moment but he senses the worry in your tone. jj presses his lips together, suddenly standing out of his chair.

“look, come here.” he demands, and your brows raise. “yes. come here.” he beckons and you do so, dragging your feet to stand infront of him. his hands seem to hesitate for a moment before they grasp your shoulders, raising his eyebrows at you.

“you— ms perfect, are not gonna die tonight. y’hear me? this is jus’ gonna be one of your many cool ass stories that you get to tell in the future when we get the hell outta here. just like — as long as you promise to mention the sexy strong blonde dude that protected you with his life when you’re… y’know, recountin’ those tales…n’shit.” despite delivering the lighthearted punchline, jj’s voice softens towards the end of its delivery, staring down and getting lost in your wide worried eyes.

you smile, a hand coming up to rest on his chest. you don’t comment on the way his heart pounds against your palm. “how could i forget that detail?” you stare again at eachother for a moment, and you swear he’s about to kiss you — when thunder crashes loudly outside, startling the two of you as jj spins around, grabbing the bat and swinging it into a protective stance, guarding you. the moment settles over the two of you and you giggle, covering your mouth.

“you gonna fight the thunder, jj?”

“i was just practicin’ alright be grateful my reflexes are so damn fast. m’like a ninja.” he scoffs out a little laugh, turning back towards you.

“sheesh, i wouldn’t mess with you.” you grin and he tosses the bat aside, deciding enough was enough.

“yeah wouldn’t dream of it.” he mutters distractedly, the two of you pumped with adrenaline as he leans in, eyes on your mouth before your lips connect, the blonde pulling your body to his.

maybe you would be okay.

[sun-e-chips]

Wait…

Do the boys fluster easy? Like if y/n ever grew a backbone and said literally anything-

Like the smallest thing or like, taped a flower to suns rays or moons headdress (does it have a specific name please tell me if it does) how would the boys react?

I get a break because of the storm so I’m digging into my inbox! >:D

Great question! I would say yes to the boys flustering easy but they fluster differently if that makes sense.

Moon: Moon I would say flusters the easiest. Though he handles “flirts” from guests with ease, (giving a witty/charming one-liner to keep it professional and lighthearted) he knows it’s part of the job and nothing is serious, but if y/n did or said anything flirtatious to Moon he would freeze up XD

With guests this usually happens during luau’s between when he’s performing or working the bar. Moon realizes guests are just enjoying themselves and mean nothing inappropriate when they’re having fun with flirtatious banter, it’s part of his job to be engaging and pleasant so he doesn’t really mind. That’s why y/n showing any affectionate interest in him would come as such a shock, he never thought about someone being genuinely interested in him that way. Poor guy needs some time to adjust.

Sun: Now Sun is an oddball to me, I’m still trying to understand him and his emotions myself haha. Sun REALLY blurs the lines between platonic and romantic affection, he is in general a very loving guy. With guests personal space is a foreign concept to him, of course he is still very professional and can judge an appropriate situation/person, but he just has a talent for being able to connect with guests so their comfortable with his playful antics. With Y/N however his actions areeeeee a mixed bag I guess, (think of it like a magic fruit basket, Sun is giving you a variety of fruits in one package, if you choose to only take out oranges then it’s an orange basket, if you want to take out apples and oranges then it’s an apple and oranges basket, pick out whichever you like it’s all there but you don’t have to accept anything you don’t like, he’s letting you decide what you want your basket to be made up of) weird analogy I know but it’s what I thought of

Anywhoo for Sun to catch on that an act is flirtatious it has to be clear or at least catch him off guard! Little note here, Suns pupils disappear when he’s flustered from y/n. It’s a lil scary at first, in the illustrated instance this is the first time of this happening and it may be mistaken as Sun freezing but he was very much there and would have returned the gesture if not for the pool noodle -whack- lol

[idontego]

Kaji Conceals His Relationship With You From His Friends

Summary: well, the title explains it, but do you think he can keep it a secret for much longer?

Warnings: swearing and suggestive violent behavior

A/n: I hope the ending didn’t disappoint! I thought it was a unique twist, pls.

As much and Kaji loves you, it was a mutual decision that your relationship be kept a secret from his friends because he didn’t want you to become a distraction because of how his friends would act towards him.

His friends knew who you were and looked at you as a mutual. They had no idea that you had a particular love interest and it was better kept that way. Kaji and you have been in a relationship for less than 6 months so far, but the more you stuck around him and his friends, the more they gained interest in you. Some of them even considered you a love interest and in fact had crushes on you. It wasn’t until recently that all of this unfolded.

Kaji was getting lunch with some of the second years, along with the first years. Kaji wasn’t too fond of most of the first years and would normally tune them out, that was until at Pothos you were brought up to the table. He immediately paused his music, but kept his headphones on.

Taiga was waving around his phone and said “Should i text y/n? I have her number and I’ve been thinking about asking her out on a date or somethin’.” Taiga said with his feet propped up on the table. “not if i beat you do it first, buddy.” Mitsuki said, leaning over the table grabbing Taiga’s phone from him. “There’s no way you haven’t even texted her yet. I’ve been knocking on that door for a few weeks. It’ll work soon, trust me.” Mitsuki proceeded.

“HEY GIVE ME THAT BACK!” Taiga said now also reaching over the table to get his phone back. Mitsuki was now typing something on his phone.

“I’m just gonna see if she at least responds to you! Don’t worry, you’re in good hands. You know how i am with the ladies.” Mitsuki reassured him.

Kaji sent over a piercing gaze to the both of them, crushing his lollipop between his teeth, making a loud cracking sound. He bit right through, all the way to the stick and he then realized he was gritting his teeth pretty hard and needed to keep listening to see if things got more out of hand. Would you actually respond to them? He wouldn’t expect you to say anything back to them, or at least he still hoped. He was now full of regret. Why did he not tell them sooner. It was for his own selfish reasons. He didn’t tell them because he felt he couldn’t genuinely handle them picking on him for being with you and making gushy jokes. Don’t even get me started on his phone. He just knows that if it was left unsupervised, they would try to send you some silly text or even worse, go through your messages.

Kaji began to mumble under his breath, completely consumed by the idea of their scheme and the reality of it happening right In front of his face. He ripped open another lollipop placing it in his mouth and put his headphones around his neck.

“You morons really think she’d say something back to ya’?” Kaji said with a straight face.

“What’s it to ya, Kaji? You like her or something? You’ve been pouting in the corner the whole time we’ve been here.” Taiga said.

Kaji’s eyebrows furrowed and he stood up and walked over to them stuffing his hands in his hoodie pocket. His fists were clenched so tight in this very moment he was breaking the skin in his palms from his nails.

“What’s it t’me?! Pick up the Goddamn phone, and send it, i dare you. Unless you wanna find out the hard way, ‘what it is to me’. ” He said. He closed his lips back around his lollipop and stood there, waiting for a response. His chest was heaving up and down, fast. The blood rushing to his face at a faster pace. Did he just give himself away?

“That’s it.” Sakura was now tuned into the conversation and started making his way to their table. He didn’t like all of this girl talk and was about to say something to all three of them until Nirei pulled Sakura’s arm, turning him around and saying “S-Sakura that is not a good idea! Please trust me! For starters, you know you don’t want to get Kaji fired up and second, it’s rumored that y/n is his girlfriend.” The room went silent. You could’ve heard a pin drop. Nirei’s face was unexplainable.

Kaji turned around to Nirei, spitting out his lollipop and lunging towards him, but Kaji was swiftly restrained.

“Of course you would be the one… TO FUCK EVERYTHING UP AND NOT LET ME HANDLE IT!” Kaji barked, his nose was scrunched and yelling at this point, showing his canines.

“I-i didn’t m-mean to, Kaji, please. Please forgive me.” Nirei pleaded.

Kaji took a deep breath and realized the two forces holding him back and relaxed his body, ripping open another lollipop, tossing it in his mouth. He knows you wouldn’t want him to be acting this way right now and concluded to own up to it. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of you by any means, he just wants to protect you so bad, even if that means from his own friends, but he truly doesn’t need to worry now that they all know.

“Secret’s out.” Kaji responded as he smoothed back down his hoodie and put his headphones back on. He walked out the door of Pothos by himself and the only thing that made a sound was the chimes of the bell on the door as he exited.

[vroomvroomcircuit]

Early Risers vs. Night Owls

(A/N): Special thank yous to @foreveralbon and @disneyprincemuke for helping me choose which drivers are morning people and which are more of night owls.

Summary: Some people are night owls, others are morning people. But there is another sort that some drivers learn to fear: Morning Monsters (it's the reader)

Pairings: (All platonic) daniel ricciardo x driver!reader, charles leclerc x driver!reader, carlos sainz x driver!reader, oscar piastry x driver!reader (max and lando get a guest starring)

Word count: 1.2k

🏎Masterlist🏎

________________________

It’s difficult, being a night person in a day people’s world. It really is. Especially when you are around morning loving human beings.

“Oh, don’t you look happy?” Carlos comments, when (Y/N) steps into the breakfast room. Coincidentally, several teams are accommodated in the same hotel during this race weekend.

As she lets herself fall in a seat at his table, the young female whispers an annoyed “Don’t”. “I wasn’t saying anything mean?” He genuinely questions. Is his English failing him again?

“Please, just stop talking. It’s only the ass crack of dawn, how can someone be so chatty?” (Y/N) puts her head onto the table, effectively stopping any further conversation with the Spaniard. He looks a little bit lost into his fruit bowl, not sure how to handle this situation adequately. 

“Top of the morning, my sunshines,” a smiling Daniel Ricciardo strolls into the room. The happiness radiating from him reaches (Y/N) even through her closed eyes.

Just as Daniel arrives at their table, she gets up with the most sluggish motions a sober person can muster. “Coffee” is the only thing mumbled, answering to the confused looks around her.

Shortly after, she sits down again with a cup in her hands, not even bothering to try to follow the chatting between Daniel and Carlos. (Y/N) just stares into space, wondering where she went wrong in her life to have to sit in between two morning people. Surely, this is a punishment of some kind.

“Ok, what is up with you? You look like you are about to murder everyone in this room if someone just dares to breathe in the wrong direction,” Daniel observes. (Y/N) takes another sip from her coffee. “Because it’s true.”

Carlos can’t wrap his head around it. “But what happened to the sunshine-in-person-(Y/N)?” “How am I supposed to be a sunshine, when I’m barely a person at this moment?” Well, that is not a lie. She does look pretty rough. Not everyone can wake up and look perfect like Florence Pugh. Some people have to look more like Merida herself in the mornings.

“Why are you talking to this woman during the early hours?” Charles, who just entered the breakfast hall, fears for their lives. “Because this is what people do? They talk when they sit together?” Daniel is confused. What is so bad about making conversations?

Charles steps closer to their table and (Y/N) immediately latches onto him, burying her face into his stomach.

“Don’t you value your life? A tired (Y/N) in the morning needs quiet and some hugs.” The young woman mumbles something, making the Monegasque laugh. “Yes, and coffee. This is the recipe to get the sunshine person you know and love.”

Confused, the other two drivers blink. Did they miss the manual that came with the rookie?

“And you know all of this, because?” Carlos asks the question that popped up in both their heads. “Because (Y/N) and Arthur were together in F2 and he had been ‘chewed out by her like a pack of gum by a class of elementary schoolers’, his words, not mine. She is not all bark and no bite, isn’t that right?” (Y/N) nods, her head still buried into his front.

“Do you want to catch a ride to the paddock with me? I plan on leaving in five minutes.” (Y/N) nods again and quickly gathers her things before waving the other drivers goodbye.

The ride is filled with silence, Charles even leaves the radio turned off. This lets the female drive in and out of a state of half-asleep until they arrive at their destination. At the same time a certain papaya wearing aussie his own car not far away from Charles’ Ferrari.

“Oh, is it still too early?” He asks her with a small smile. Just like Arthur, Oscar is aware how much of a night owl (Y/N) is, having witnessed her outbursts first hand several times during his own career in F2.

The driver nods as she throws herself into his embrace. A tired (Y/N) turns into the most cuddly person. “Let’s get you a cup of coffee, can’t have you go around screaming at people. You will scare everyone off.”

Oscar is pretty much the only smiling person she tolerates in the morning. Whenever another human being dares just grinning in her direction during her own waking up phase, she is ready to jump their throats. But Oscar is different. He doesn't do it out of mocking or pitiness. He is genuinely happy and wants to show and share it. Also, he radiates a nice calm aura, which is the complete opposite to what she experiences during the days of a race weekend.

When Carlos passes (Y/N) by later, he walks up to her with caution, keeping his teammates' warning in mind, “Hey Carlos, have you heard the rumors about the newest Taylor Swift album? Do you think it will feature a song about Nando?”

The woman in front of him has nothing in common with the one he interacted with just an hour ago. She somehow even looks completely different from her. It’s the kind of freshness that doesn’t come with a shower.

“Uhm, no I did not. Are you ok? You seemed… a bit out of it this morning.” There is a hesitation in his voice, not wanting to accidentally offset her.

But (Y/N) just laughs it off. “Oh yeah, that. I’m sorry for being a grump back there. Just like Charlie said, I’m absolutely not a morning person. During the first hour of being awake I’m an absolute monster. Just, don’t talk to me or only when it’s absolutely necessary during that time. I apologize for my behavior, it wasn’t nice. Today was particularly bad, because I do my best work at night and I have been pouring over some data until 2 am. I’ll try to give you a warning next time!”

With that she is off, looking for her partner in crime aka her teammate to start some kind of mischief with the social media team.

Carlos is just flabbergasted. The duality of some people and how a small cup of caffeine can bring that out of them is astonishing.

Just remember to never fuck with night owls during the early hours of the morning.

Bonus Scene

During a free week some drivers set a date to play a private paddle tournament together in Monaco. Daniel enters the court with a big smile. After all, it is a fresh, sunny morning. This day is a promise of having a good time with his friends and colleagues, playing their favorite game and having lunch plans together.

What sets the Australian off are the three frowning faces, sitting on a bench nursing each a can of Red Bull solemnly. “What happened to you?”

Max answers his question first with a grumpy voice. “I had to leave my cats cuddled up in my bed alone.” “My alarm woke me up while the first number on the clock was still a single digit.” Landoo sounds about as tired as (Y/N) next to him looks like.

“Life”, Daniel answers for the young woman already, who just nods and pulls the strings of her hood closed, hindering someone else to make more conversations with her until the caffeine has kicked in.

Desperate times call for desperate measures after all.

[kimberly-spirits13]

Jason Todd During Your Period

Sweetest thing

Feels so bad that you feel bad and does anything humanly possible to alleviate the pain

He knows how to handle periods since he has all the batgirls and he had to take care of his mom when he was younger

He’s the kind of boyfriend where you can just be like “hey when is my next period?” And he’d know off the top of his head

Won’t blame you for any outbursts or anything and he tries his best to not annoy you

If you get nightmares or really funky dreams on your period that wake you up, he always wakes up to make sure you’re okay

Becomes a light sleeper during your period in anticipation that you wake up and need something or are basically dying

Specifically ordered you two of those massive heating pads and let’s you lay on top of him with them

One heating pad for the back and one stomach

It’s a miracle tool yall

It’s the kind of thing where you finally get settled and you cry because it’s so amazing

NOT BEING IN PAIN AND BEING ABLE TO SLEEP IS WONDERFUL

He’d feel so bad if that happened though because he’d realize how bad you really felt in the moment

He knew you were struggling but it always hurts him to see you in pain

Stocks up on pain killers

Makes you your favorite food and brings your favorite food home from patrol because let’s be honest

No girl is sleeping on her period without her comfort 🤚

He’ll take as many naps with you as you want and do a spa day

*face mask on and hair mask in* “no Dick I’m not on patrol tonight, I’m busy.” “

Knows exactly what to get at the store if you ask him since he had to get stuff for his mom

Will bring back chocolate or whatever your favorite snack is

Let’s be honest, chocolate gets boring after about a day

Holds you while you’re in pain

Makes sure to call you often when he’s on patrol go check in, especially if you’re benched from patrol for the week because of it

Is mostly calling for himself to make sure you’re not dying or anything

Gets medical advice from Alfred

Is genuinely afraid you’ll become anemic or something if he thinks you’re losing too much blood

You two are experts at getting blood out of things so don’t even worry about it

Let’s you wear all of his clothes and takes up doing the chores since you’re probably bloated and swelling

Kisses your cheek and forehead a lot if you’re not feeling well

Does anything you need to feel better

His guilty pleasure is when you’re on your period and are craving carbs because he really really loves carb loading but can’t do it often

Bagels, pasta, pizza, crackers, cinnamon rolls, anything carb

If you start running a fever he freaks out a bit but has enough experience to know you’re not dying

Puts an ice pack on your forehead and gets advil for you

Stocks up on ice cream if that’s your thing

Excuses himself and you from any galas and makes sure the paparazzi isn’t around

Probably threatens them or something who knows

Has one of his sisters come over to give you company if you need some girl time

If you want to you’ll 100% be welcomed to just sit in the bat cave during patrol and help monitor

The entire week or two is just Jason doting on you more than usual

He’d wrap you in a blanket burrito and carry you everywhere

Is very touchy when you don’t feel well so he latches himself onto you

Movie marathons

I watch Law and Order and lots of crime documentaries when I’m on my period for some reason and he’d 100% binge those

Has fuzzy socks for you

They’re probably funky colorful ones that he thought were funny and got them for you one day to cheer you up

Won’t let you talk bad about yourself

If you call yourself yuck or gross or fat or anything he’d smother you with his entire body

Not today Satan

Praises from him are the best let’s just keep it at that