#i said wow shes so normal and well adjusted just like me

[lizardson]

one of the things that feels so clear on rereads but so many people miss the first time they read the way of kings is shallans PTSD. I think part of it is the way it gets overshadowed by the constant unending tragedy of kaladin's story, its easy to slot shallan in as the young naive rich girl and not look much deeper. Part of it also is the way shallan drastically understates her own trauma. she says that she's timid, she doesn't like confrontation, she talks about her father's temper, but she was the lucky one because it was never directed at her. There are so many things in her first few chapters alone that are textbook PTSD, the way she freezes and shuts down any thought process that gets too close to her father's death, the flashback when jasnah gets angry at her, how she dissociates when she draws. It's so obvious if you know what you're looking for, but just subtle enough, especially when it's compared to kaladin's trauma, that a lot of people miss it at first. anyway I would defend shallan davar with my life.

[letorip]

kiss with a fist [ii]

"Blood sticks, sweat drips, break the lock if it don't fit, a kick in the teeth is good for some, a kiss with a fist is better than none"

===+++===

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: you signed up to help tara with her stupid plan. not whatever the hell one would call this.

warnings: implied sex, use of alcohol, puking, arguing loudly and wrongly, curse words(?)

word count: 5.2k

A/N: sorry to make you wait so long, but here's the second part. there will probably be a third, so fear not, the story doesn't end here. i originally thought i would be able to just end it off right here, but it’s going kind of really well and i think a third or maybe even a fourth part is more reasonable

===+++===

===+++===

For almost the entire walk to the frat house, Tara didn't actually say much. It surprised you too, the way she just glanced around the city that passed as you walked and fiddled with her nails. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, but you were so used to Tara having something to say that it made you speak instead.

"Wow, for once, you're speechless," you commented as you passed under a streetlight. Tara shot you a glare, shoving her hands into her jean pockets.

"Would it kill you to shut the hell up?"

“There we go, back to normal. Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” she scoffed. “Mind your own business.”

"I'm just saying."

"Well don't say. Don't say."

===+++===

The party fucking sucked. It was quintessential college, with frat boys who attempted to yell over the loud music that rattled your eardrums. Coolers upon coolers of shitty, cheap beer sat against the far wall, and a crowd had gathered around them to pick off all the free alcohol they could. Maybe a year ago this would’ve been fun. Now you found yourself disenchanted with the ordeal.

Tara was off god knows where, doing god knows what, which you figured was the point of the arrangement anyway. You weren’t too concerned with tracking her down, especially if situation also presented itself as a pleasant bonus— not having to put up with her.

Chad had wandered out of the room when he saw you and Tara arrive together hand in hand, going deeper into the party without a word. He was usually the one you hung around with at these kinds of things, but he had been a sad little dog with his tail between his legs since you and Tara announced you were meant to be a few days before the party. It seemed some of your friends were still adjusting.

The immediate reaction after Tara said “soooo, we’re together,” was to laugh, like you two were doing a bit. It got less funny when they saw you both blankly staring back at them and then Tara grabbed your hand and held it up with a forced smile.

The whole group was going through a somewhat awkward seven stages of grief thing. Chad was avoiding you completely, Quinn was a bit annoyed you were off the market now after an egregious few months of hitting on you, and Ethan was the only one to be a bit normal, even though it was clear he too had a crush on Tara and was disappointed with the matter.

When Mindy had gotten over her disbelief, she dove right into an endless game of questions, only occasionally staved off by Anika. "So who confessed first?" had been one of the first ones, accompanied by a glint in her eye. Tara jumped in before you could even open your mouth, eager to answer.

"(Y/n) showed up on my porch, all sweaty and disgusting looking, just smelling so unbelievably bad it was overpowering-”

“I had been working out,” you rolled your eyes. “That’s why I was sweaty."

“Mhm, whatever. Anyways, apparently they were just being such an asshole because they were in love with me," Tara said, with a wide, shit-eating grin. "Right?"

You had to hide your glare behind your solo cup. "Mhm. I was just overflowing with it. I have so many things to say about you."

“All nice things,” Tara corrected.

“Yeah. That’s what I said.”

“Was it?”

“Uh huh.”

Mindy’s questions followed you everywhere she did. Who kissed who first? Who’s more cuddly? Have you guys slept together yet? They volleyed back and forth and you and Tara fought for the first word each time to pin it to the other with gleeful sadism. Of course, it was then flipped around once the next question came and you would huff in annoyance at the other for being an asshole.

It wasn’t as bad of an arrangement as you had dreaded. You only had to be couple-y when other people were watching you two interact, or when Sam would glare in suspicion. Hold hands a few times, smile, share a glance. Other than that, things stayed mostly the same. The group probably appreciated you both not acting head over heels for the other and you liked it because it meant you didn't have to pretend to like her.

Tara had a brazen way about her that made you roll your eyes. She never took no for an answer, had a teasing remark for anything, and always felt the need to be doing something. Other people seemed to find themselves charmed by it. Others, but not you. Never you.

The walk there had been about all she could take of your personality, and the moment after you two were seen together, she ditched you at the door and wandered off to the dance floor. After that you had lost track of her, and ended up splitting your time between the kitchen, the bathroom, and the front room, away from the crowd. Mindy found you there, tugging Anika along with her.

"Cut the bullshit," She said with an eye roll, sitting right down on the couch in front of you. Anika plopped down next to her. "There's no way in hell you got together with Tara."

You grinned, sipping your beer and partially using it to block your expression. "No, we're together. I really like her."

Mindy scoffed. "You're a terrible liar." Your cheeks warmed and you tilted your head to the side.

"We have to separate you two like warring chihuahuas every time we hang out together," Anika said. She leaned forward and narrowed her eyes in a study of your face. "You're not confessing your undying love."

"I did."

"You didn't!" Mindy said, and she threw up her arms.

"I did."

"You didn't," Anika snorted.

"I...," you looked at them both, "...are you guys going to snitch?"

"Snitch to who?" asked Mindy. Now they were both leaned in, like eager children around a campfire. You swallowed.

"Sam." Mindy blinked. Then she sat back.

"What the hell did Tara get you involved in?" she asked. As much as Sam was part of your group, it was known not to fuck with her, and that's exactly what Tara was making you do.

You frowned. If anyone was going to ruin the plan, it probably wouldn't be Mindy or Anika. "You can't tell Chad, but we're not actually together."

Anika raised her eyebrows and shot Mindy a glance. "That didn't take a lot of brain power to figure out." You shrugged.

"Well, we fooled Sam. Tara needs a fake partner so she can go to parties and see people and stuff. And, well, you know how Sam is about that stuff."

Mindy crossed her arms. "And you said sure?"

You shrugged. "I mean, I didn't really see why not. Plus, she was being super annoying about it. Showed up at my house. She was begging, almost."

"So, you what, took pity?" Anika asked, giving you a look. You rolled your eyes.

"Trust me, it's not because it's fun. She's way too annoying and she'd probably say the same thing about me."

Mindy frowned, looking out the doorway and into the booming party. "Chad wouldn't like it."

You sent her a worried look. "Please please please, don't tell Chad. I know he's upset by the whole thing, but Sam would literally kill me if she knew I was helping Tara run around town."

"I don't know...," she said. "I know Tara wants freedom, but this is kind of bullshit, (Y/n)."

"It won't be for long. She just wants to meet someone. When she does, it's over. Life goes back to normal."

"Do you guys have a target in mind, or something?" Anika asked, a bit amused.

"Not even a little a bit. It’s like, her second party ever,” you shrugged. “I don’t know if she’s really dead set on a person yet.”

“Well… she better figure it out soon.”

“Mhm.” You looked out the same glass door and into the booming party outside. Through the jumping crowd, you could see in the distance Tara, who was dancing with her eyes shut and a smile spread wide across her cheeks. She looked happy like that.

You took a swig of your beer.

===+++===

The boom of a fist on your door shook the thin walls of your apartment, and you jolted awake to hear three more hit the wood.

“OPEN UP (Y/N), NOW!”

Immediately, a headache washed over you and you groaned. You tried to smush your head into the pillow to make it go away but there were the banging fists again, and you sat up, letting your legs dangle off the edge.

“OPEN THE FUCK UP,” came the voice again, and you blinked. Oh shit. You knew that voice. You clambered to your feet and stumbled out your bedroom and down the hall in a dusty pair of shorts and shirt. “I’M NOT KIDDING! OPEN THE—”

You pulled the door open like a deer in headlights, seeing Sam seethe on the other side with her fist raised. Nostrils flared, forehead creased, eyes narrowed. She looked about ready to rip your head off.

“You,” she said, spitting the word. You flinched. “Where the fuck is Tara?!”

Shit shit shit shit shit. Had she not gone home the night before?? Things felt a little bit fuzzy still. You remembered grabbing another beer from Ethan and flopping down in an armchair, then another and another, and then maybe wandering home while the sun started to rise. Had you seriously lost track of the attempted murder victim on her first night out???

You blinked, already aware that your cheeks were a dusty pink. "I, uh... she, um..."

Her hands went to her hips, glaring at you expectantly. "Well?! Where the hell is my sister?!" When you were still staring like an idiot, she threw up her arms. "I fucking knew I shouldn't have trusted you with her! This is what I get"

You stared, feeling a lie (though probably a clunky one) come to your brain. "I think her phone must've died, but she just left."

Sam's eyebrows rose, but you weren't sure if it was in disbelief or even more rage. "What do you mean?"

"We, um," your eyes went to the floor, feeling her glare laser itself into you as you spoke. "We got super drunk last night at the party, and I brought her back here and we both fell asleep," you looked back up to see her giving your pyjamas a once over, nose wrinkled. You flushed. "No! No— we didn't do that. We just fell asleep."

Sam looked at you for a moment, then crossed her arms. "I waited all night for her, you know," she said.

You nodded. "I know. I'm so sorry, it won't happen again."

"It won't." Sam repeated. "When I don't hear from her for a whole night, you know what I assume happened, right? You know how that feels?"

You swallowed. "I do."

She sighed. "I'm really trying here. I know she doesn't want me worrying about her, and I know she wants freedom. So I'm trying, (Y/n). Don't make me regret it."

"I won't, Sam." It felt like a giant wedge in your throat, and you tried to smile at her but she continued to frown, and she turned around and walked off. The moment she was gone, you spun around and slammed the door. You dashed through your apartment, grabbing your phone off your nightstand and quickly pulling up her contact.

Little Shit (do not pick up). You pressed the button and put it up to your ear, wandering over to the nearby curtain and lifting it to look out onto the city. "Come on, come on," you pleaded aloud. "Fucking pick up, asshole."

After the third ring and a good prayer to god even though you weren't especially religious, it stopped ringing and you could hear her grumbling.

"Tara??" you rushed. "Tara, where are you?"

"Mmm," she groaned, "the hell do you want so early?"

You scoffed. "Tara it's almost noon." There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"What?"

"Uh huh," you grunted. "Your sister just almost ripped my door off it's fucking hinges because she doesn't know where you are. And you know what, neither do I!" There was some shuffling from her end, and then what sounded like running footsteps.

"I went home with this girl last night, I just woke up," she rushed. "Sam is going to kill me!"

"She almost killed me!" You almost yelled into the phone. Now that the worry had subsided you were left with anger. "She almost killed me because you wandered off and didn't go home."

"It's not like I meant to fall asleep," she argued back, and you could hear some talking in the background in faint voices. "I must've slept through my alarm— wait, what did you tell Sam?"

"That your phone died, and you were on your way home."

"WHAT?! (Y/n), this girl's apartment is at least fifteen to twenty minutes away," Tara said into the phone.

"Well it's not like I knew that, now is it?" you shot back, scratching your arm, "considering I didn't know if you were even alive until you picked up."

"God, not you too. I'm fine, drama queen."

"Drama queen?"

"Yeah, drama queen," Tara repeated, and more noises flooded in. It sounded as if she was in the city now, walking, "you sound just like Sam. I picked you because I thought you knew I didn't need a babysitter."

"That's not being babysat, Tara. That's making sure you're not dead," you rolled your eyes.

"Well, I'm not."

"Good."

"Great."

"Fine!" you shot back.

"Awesome."

You sighed into the speaker. "Pick up some flowers or something on your way back. Claim that's why you're late."

"Good idea, actually," Tara hummed.

"I know." And you hung up.

===+++===

You found yourself at an identical party the very next Friday night too, and the Friday after that, and after that too. The walls were just as stained. It smelled just as full of mold. This one didn't have a front room for you to barricade in, so you sat at the bar top instead, in the kitchen with your chin rested on the cool granite.

It had taken a whole night to get rid of the hangover from a few weeks before, and in doing so you had remembered why it was exactly that you didn't find these things too fun, anyways. You hadn't gotten anywhere near as drunk since. Mindy and Anika had decided on date night instead, and Chad and Ethan were off to watch a movie that originally you would've been invited to, had it not been for Tara.

It was painful, that Chad was ducking you. The irony wasn't lost, that the more time you spent with your fake girlfriend at parties and outings like a couple, the closer you got to actually repairing your relationship with him. You still would've rather gone to the movie, though.

You could actually see Tara, from where you sat. Through the bar window in the kitchen, she was on the dance floor, moving along with the rhythm of hard EDM as best she could. It was a giant mob of people, all clumped up and hopping around in excitement, and you didn't especially want to be out there.

As you watched, a guy came up behind Tara, tapping her on the shoulder and smiling down at her. You thought nothing of it, until you got a longer look at the guy's face. In the revolving, multicoloured lights that hung over the crowd, you recognised him in an instant, standing straight up and weaving your way through the party.

"You having fun, Carpenter?" He asked, with a douche-y smirk on his face as he said it. You rolled your eyes, coming up behind Tara and standing right behind her.

"I—" but you interrupted her.

"She is, Frankie," you shot, staring at him and crossing your arms. Tara whipped around to you with a glare.

"(Y/n), go away," she whispered loudly. But you stood your ground.

"Tara, literally anyone but him. I mean, anyone—"

"That's not your decision."

"Sam tased him in the balls last time. I mean, come on, you have to know he's a douche."

Frankie scoffed. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"(Y/n) is just a—"

"—We're dating," you interrupted again. "So fuck off."

"No, we aren't," Tara shook her head. "Not really."

"Yes, we are," you nodded at Frankie. "Please leave. She's not sleeping with you tonight." He frowned, but started to walk off.

"That's not your decision, asshole!" Tara scowled and she reached out an arm to stop him. "Frankie, stay. You know what, I wasn't going to, but I will now."

"Frankie, leave. I mean it, you creep." You turned to her and glared. "Tara, listen to me, you—"

"No! Frankie, stay. Maybe I need the company," she shot back, narrowing her eyes. Frankie looked between you both, as did a few other people in the room who were starting to notice.

"They literally call him Date-Rape-Frankie, Tara. There's no way in hell you're sleeping with Date-Rape-Frankie. Frankie, leave."

"Frankie, no, stay. Well, what if I want to?"

"Then you're being stupid."

"Bold choice of words coming from you! You're not my mother."

"I'm not trying to be your mom, Tara. I'm using basic common sense. That guy is a creep and a perv," you pointed to him.

"Hey!" Frankie interjected, raising a hand to your shoulder.

"Fuck off!" you and Tara said in unison, dismissing him to glare right at each other.

"Well maybe I deserve the freedom to sleep with weirdos and whoever I want! I mean, who are you, the fucking sex-Nazi?"

"I don't have a problem with literally anyone else, Tara, but he's a weirdo!"

"Well then let me make that call! I'm not five. You don't need to baby me, I know he's a weirdo!" People were definitely staring now. You were both shouting, but a lot of it was drowned out by the EDM. It didn't stop others watching you point in each others faces and scowl.

"It's not babying you, Tara! It's basic caring! You have no clue about this shit, this is like your fourth party ever!"

"I've managed this far, haven't I?!"

"What, you want a cookie?!"

"Yeah, maybe I fucking do! I'm an adult, asshole! Let me do adult shit!"

"Wow, it's so adult and mature of you, to sleep with creeps and get hungover every Friday. How adult."

"Well, maybe it's not, but who gives a shit! I'm having fun for once! I'm being free without a fucking serial killer on my ass! I know you can't relate, but Christ, take the stick out from your ass!"

"Real nice," you shook your head. "This is what I get for helping you. Of fucking course." Before she could reply, you turned around and headed out the sliding glass door, into the fenced-in backyard. There was a pool back there, and you collapsed into a wrought iron pool chair, right near the edge.

People watched you warily, as you sat out there, but within minutes, the party was resumed. Even from outside, you could hear the thumping bass shake the windows gently as the glass moved in the panes.

There was a faint scent of petrichor from the small patch of grass out there, and the sky rumbled in the distance. It was peaceful out there, with small hanging fairy lights and the pool in front of you. You propped your legs up on the glass table and tried not to scream.

This was exactly what you should've expected, from Tara. Of course she would be selfish. Of course she would be brash. A part of you wasn't surprised. Disappointed, sure. But not surprised. You just sat there and tried to cool your breathing, watching the city lights in front of you.

You must've sat like that for an hour or two, just watching the city. It didn't feel like long enough. You might've even felt at peace, until you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"Um...excuse me?" You craned your neck around, looking up in your chair to see a concerned guy looking down at you.

"Are you (Y/n)?" He asked, awkwardly scratching his neck. You nodded, confused.

"Uh, yeah? Do we know each other?"

"No! No, I was asked by Tara, I think was her name? She wanted me to get you. She's your girlfriend, right?"

The worry came back, and you stood up. "Why, what happened? Where is she?" Sam was really going to kill you.

"She's in the guest bathroom, I think she's sick."

===+++===

"Tara?"

"(Y/n)?" you heard a very uneasy voice on the other end.

"Can I come in?" you asked, and when there was no response, you let yourself inside. She was on the other end of the massive bathroom, leaned up against the bathtub with her head close to the toilet bowl.

Tara looked absolutely green, with her hair sweatily stuck to her forehead and eyes barely open. "Christ Tara, how much did you have to drink?" you asked in worry, coming to stand over her.

"Oh, just—" she gagged like she was about to puke and you bent down to grab her and tug her towards the toilet bowl. You spun back to the guy in the doorway, who stared at you both with wide eyes.

"Can you get me some crackers and Gatorade?" you asked him, sending a hopeful glance. He nodded and closed the door, and you turned back to Tara, who was bent over the toilet bowl.

You moved her gently and lifted the toilet seat up. "Are you okay?" you asked with a frown. You felt like an idiot the moment it left your mouth.

She raised her eyebrows. "Do I look okay?" Tara mumbled.

"Well, no."

"Thass' good," she slurred. "I had too many," she hiccupped. You nodded.

"I'd say so. How much did you have Tara?"

She giggled. "This many." She held up four fingers with a giant, toothy grin and slumped with her arms encircling the toilet bowl.

"Since when?" you blinked.

"Since you got allllllllll pissy!" You sighed, hands going to her hair and pulling it back. She wrinkled her nose at you. "Why are you touching my hairrrrr?!"

"So you don't vomit all on it, idiot," you replied, shaking your head. Tara huffed.

"I'mnuh gonnuh puke."

And then Tara puked. Everywhere.

===+++===

You both sat there, that way, for about ten minutes. Tara vomited three times, during that span, and when she was done, you handed her the crackers and Gatorade and told her to do her worst.

She downed them in another fifteen minutes, sitting in the bathtub and eating while you sat leaned up against the bathroom wall, across from her, just in silence. The sounds of the party seemed to have died a little bit as the night droned on, and by now people would be wandering home or to someone else’s place.

While you waited, you shot Sam a text, letting her know you’d bring Tara home and that she was okay. Sam didn’t reply but she saw the message, and you figured that was good enough. When you checked the weather app, Tara finally spoke, coming to her senses a bit with more food in her system.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, staring down at the package for the crackers in her hand. “Thanks.”

You shrugged, staring at the toilet in front of you. It probably reeked in there, but at this point you were nose blind. “For what?” You meant for that to be it, just a small little acknowledgment, but Tara shook her head.

“Thank you for that. For being here.”

She stared right at you when she said it, and you knew she meant it with conviction. You nodded. “I know we don’t always get along, but I had your back, back there.”

“You have my back?” she asked, smiling a little and grabbing her Gatorade from the edge of the tub.

“I agreed to help you, didn’t I?”

She paused for a moment, then nodded. “You did, yeah.” Tara looked over at you, then tilted her head to the side. “I still don’t get why, though.”

“You were honest, for once.” It came from a surprising place, and you said it before you entirely knew you were speaking. You didn’t completely know what it meant either, until after you said it, but the words passed between you almost like a new understanding.

A few moments of silence came and went, before she spoke again. “I walk silently places at night in case I hear I’m being followed. By Ghostface. Same thing as when I’m home alone. I don’t do it as much anymore, but I still do it sometimes. Don’t tell Sam, please please please. She’ll make me go to therapy.”

“Okay,” you said, nodding gently. You leaned your head back up against the wall, craning it up to look at the ceiling.

“Why are you being nice to me?” She asked. You laughed, tracing the popcorn pattern of the roof with your eyes.

“I’m not the devil, Tara.”

“…Neither am I.”

“I know,” you said, and you reached your arm out for a cracker. She gave you one and you crunched down on it, while an especially large bass hit came from the speakers outside. “God, this music fucking sucks,” you groaned.

Tara nodded. “It’s really hard to dance to.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “it didn’t seem like you were struggling earlier.”

Tara frowned, then tilted her head in curiosity. “What’s your favourite song?”

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. “Why?”

“Just wondering,” she said.

“Okay… you’re going to laugh, though.”

“Am I?” she grinned. You nodded.

“Do you know that one song, The Promise, by When In Rome? It’s from the 80s, it’s super cheesy?”

She stared off for a moment, in thought, then shook her head. “Don’t think so, how’s it go?”

You rolled your eyes, but began to quietly sing it in a tone that wavered in between spoken word and humming. It was terrible and you were tone deaf, but it was the song. “If you need a friend, don’t look to a straaanger. You know in the end,” your voice broke a little at the low note, and Tara giggled but you continued, “I’ll always be thereee.”

“Wow.”

“Mhm. And then it skips a little bit and the chorus goes, ‘I’m sorry but I’m just thinking of the right words to say, I know they don’t sound the way I planned them to beee.’”

She cut you off with her hand, laughing hysterically. You felt your cheeks flushed, and in any other time you would’ve been annoyed with her laughing at you. But this didn’t feel mean. You just smiled right back.

“That was good, actually,” she managed, between small laughs. “Why is it your favourite?”

“Um,” you shrugged, “my brother used to sing it to me, years ago when I was scared.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Tara said, leaning her head on the tile wall of the tub.

“I have six.”

She blinked, then sat up straight. “Since when?!”

“Always, Carpenter,” you shrugged. “Everyone knows.”

“Everyone who?”

“Chad, Mindy, Anika. Even Quinn.”

“I didn't know. How come you never talk about them?”

”I just don’t,” you frowned. Tonight was definitely not the night to get into that. Instead, you pivoted topics. “Why, what’s your favourite song? I showed you mine, now you’ve got to show me yours.”

“I’m ninety nine percent sure that’s not how that saying is used,” she laughed, “but fine. When I was crying as a baby, my mom sung me this song, called Baby, I Love You by The Ronettes.”

“Don’t think I’ve heard of it.”

Tara shook her head. “Probably not, but they’re the same group that does that one song Be My Baby?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Apparently my mom had Baby, I Love You playing in the hospital, when I was born and everything. It’s kind of comforting. When I miss her, I play it.”

“How often is that?”

She shrugged. “More than you’d think, considering she’s a giant asshole.”

"That's always how it is."

"Mhm... and just so you know, I know Frankie was a creep. I wasn't actually going to do anything with him. Just flirt. Have fun."

"I know. I wasn't trying to babysit you, I just wanted to warn you. That creep has so many stories."

"I know. I just don't like being told what to do, sometimes. It's a whole thing. I'm working on it, seriously."

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you didn’t say anything at all. You both sat in what you assumed was a prolonged silence, until you looked down finally to see Tara’s eyelids falling heavy.

You stood up with a sigh. “You should go home.” There was no reply, and you checked out the small window in the bathroom to still see it was pitch black out. It was definitely too late to send her home this sleepy, and after the incident a few weeks ago, there was no way Sam would let her stay at yours. “Tara,” you nudged her.

She groaned, rolling over in the tub and snuggling up. You rolled your eyes, then looked out the window one more time with an annoyed grumble.

===+++===

The longer you had to walk with her on your back, the more you regretted this. Her arms were wrapped around your neck, face pressed onto the back of your shoulder and knees held up by your hands. You couldn’t see her, but you knew her eyes were shut and she was super close to being actually asleep.

"We make a good team, you know," she mumbled into your shoulder. You knew she was being funny, but you were too tired to laugh as you trudged up the hill. Carrying a drunk girl home was not at all what you had anticipated of the night, and though it had been shitty at the beginning and shitty until almost the very end, you could definitely say it wasn't shitty right then.

When you arrived at her apartment complex, Tara was soundly asleep and Sam came out to meet you both, taking her sister from you and stumbling with her towards the door. In the distance, right over another hill, the sky was already beginning to lighten up a bit.

Right as both Carpenters reached the door, Tara stopped for a moment to turn back to you with a smile. "Thanks, babe," she said with a cheeky grin that was only half awake. You smiled back.

"You too, babe."

Sam rolled her eyes, pulling Tara through the door. It was a pleasant night, still with the same faint scent of rain oncoming. In your weird, newfound peace as you walked home yourself, you didn't see that Quinn was watching you from the upstairs window.

===+++===

so that was fun lmao. anyways there will be a part 3 but you and tara are kind of maybe friends now? now it's time for feelings 😈

[jayflrt]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝟕𝟖𝟔 04. the world of the elite

THERE WERE ABOUT THREE THINGS GOING ON IN JAY PARK'S HEAD WHEN KIM SUNOO CAME TO PICK HIM UP.

The first was the chilling realization that he was actually going to a Yale party. He hadn't been to a party in over a year (save for Jungwon's birthday party where they had to call the fire department when Jake almost burned the kitchen down), so Jay wasn't expecting to end up at this scene again in his new, fake school. (Could he even call this fake if he was actually earning a degree while his tuition was paid for? He could hardly tell what was real and what was fabricated anymore.)

Secondly, was it really wise for him to get close to his target like this? He hadn't dealt with assignments where he had to follow people around, so this was all rather new to him. He realized, however, that he managed to befriend you, his mission could get a lot more complicated.

Third—he had no idea how to talk to rich people.

There were times when Jay had to entertain particularly wealthy guests when his parents brought coworkers home. But it was so excruciating even then because wow, how shallow could someone get? The depths of his conversations with all the rich people he had met were not promising at all, so he didn't have much hope for his social battery tonight.

But Jay was probably on par with some of them now, so he had to adjust to this new lifestyle. There was no way he could lie about his upbringing, though, so he framed a story of him having a rich aunt that was over-the-moon when he got into Yale.

Moreover, he was so confused as to why Shin Yuna approached him. It wasn't like he looked well-off with his clothes that he thrifted years ago. Jay couldn't tell if Yuna was just being nice, or if she had other intentions that he was supposed to be concerned about.

"Whoa, nice jacket," Sunoo complimented once he let his eyes sweep Jay's outfit. "You'll be lucky if Yuna lets you out of her sight."

His eyes grew wide. "Is she expecting me to be by her side the whole time?"

"Probably. You still have time to back out, if you want."

He was conflicted. This was the perfect opportunity for him to get close to the people around you and get some information out of whoever was the most drunk there; at the same time, if Yuna was going to keep her perfectly-manicured claws on his shoulders the whole time, this whole night would be counterproductive.

In the end, Jay decided to go. He figured that if worst came to worst, he would just find the right time to ask Yuna some questions about you.

"Is Heeseung's place close?" Jay asked. The truth was that he already looked up all possible routes to the location when Sunoo sent him the address earlier; he just needed to ask as a formality.

"Down the block here," Sunoo replied. "His dad bought him an entire penthouse. Isn't that sick?"

He fought down a bitter remark and said, "Man, that must be nice. What do his parents do? You said Sunghoon's dad owns Park Pharmaceuticals, right?"

"Yeah, and his older brother, Sungjin, is taking over the company. And Heeseung's dad is a hedge fund owner," Sunoo answered. "They only made it big recently, like four or five years ago. I remember Heeseung used to be way different back in freshman year. Now he's more... subdued. I guess he didn't know how to handle being rich back then."

Jay could see the flashing of blue and purple lights from the windows of the penthouse down the street. He carefully watched the two figures on the terrace talking by the railing. At first, it seemed as if they were just talking normally. As he got closer, though, Jay realized from the faint sounds he picked up that they were, in fact, arguing.

It was you.

Jay had been looking at pictures of you all week, but seeing you up on the terrace was different. It seemed to just sink in that what he was doing was real, and seeing you in the flesh was all he needed for cold reality to seep into his veins like poison.

The man next to you must have been Park Sunghoon. Even from how high up the two were, Jay could tell that the man next to you exuded an overwhelming presence.

But he wondered what they were arguing over.

"C'mon," Sunoo said grimly, clearly having taken notice of the commotion above, "it's just up these stairs."

Jay felt his stomach sink deeper and deeper with each step he took. When they reached Heeseung's door, there was a bouncer guarding the entrance—probably some freshman Heeseung paid to keep watch. Jay stopped in his tracks, wondering if he was even allowed in since he had never met Heeseung, but his friend simply opened the door and walked right in, as if his arrival was expected, and the bouncer paid no mind. (Perhaps it was expected? Jay was starting to believe all these people had history that he didn't even understand the extent of.)

"Jay!" came a shrill cry from across the room. Jay turned to see Shin Yuna all but tackle him, draping her arms across his shoulders. He could smell the alcohol on her breath already. "I'm glad you made it."

"Thanks for the invite," Jay replied, gently prying Yuna's hands off of him, which she allowed him to do but grabbed his hand again right after.

Jay sent Sunoo a help me sort of look, but his friend seemed to greatly misunderstand the message he was sending across. Sunoo gave him a sideways grin and a thumbs-up before signaling that he was going to catch up with some friends in the kitchen.

Great.

"Come on," Yuna slurred, dragging Jay over to a sectional couch in the corner. "I'll introduce you to my friends."

He recognized some of the faces while he was looking into you—Karina Yoo, whose mother owned a private jet company; Choi Yeonjun, who landed a few minor movie roles with the help of his Golden Globe award-winning mother; Giselle Uchinaga, whose father was an investment banker and mother owned a nightclub; Kim Chaewon, whose mother revolutionized stem cell research; and then there was Lee Heeseung in the corner, who had his arms folded across his chest as he sized Jay up.

From what he gathered, this was most (or all) of the people in your inner circle. Heeseung and Sunghoon appeared to be more than that to you, though; childhood friends had a bond more special than the rest, he supposed.

Jay then wondered how Heeseung felt about his two childhood friends dating and now arguing on the balcony.

"Guys," Yuna started with a grin, motioning to Jay with a dramatic flair of her hands, "this is Jay, the new transfer student."

"Hey." Jay waved to the group, his mouth suddenly feeling extremely dry.

His greeting was returned by a few tight smiles from the rest and a chorus of unenthusiastic words of acknowledgment that he didn't feel too great about. Maybe he had to give up on his chance of entering your circle.

"Don't mind them," Yuna whispered to him as she pulled him over to sit on the couch with her. They were seated exactly across from Heeseung, whose stare made Jay feel even more uncomfortable. "They're all in a bad mood 'cause Y/N and Sunghoon got in a fight before you came. God, why do they always kill the vibe?" She was talking awfully loud, causing Karina and Giselle to shoot her warning glares. Jay had a sinking feeling that she was making the situation worse if she kept opening her mouth. "Seriously, I mean, we're here to party!"

Not that Jay was particularly avoidant with physical touch, but being touched and fawned about in front of everyone was slightly unnerving, especially when he didn't know Yuna all that well. Nearly half her body weight was on top of him, and Jay was pretty sure she would end up sitting fully on his lap if she took another shot.

"Are you... drunk?" he asked her warily.

She gave him a strange look before giggling. "Uh, yeah? Did you want a drink, too?"

"No, just—"

"Hey, so you've really never seen me online before?" she asked, tilting her head in a way that Jay had to admit would've been rather cute if he wasn't so overwhelmed and put-off by everything else. "I'm, like, TikTok famous."

"Oh, that's nice," he replied, sort of distracted as he tried to catch a glimpse of you out on the terrace. He saw a flash of your glittering silver romper, but then your boyfriend stepped in front of you again.

"Transfer student," Heeseung called out. He had his elbows on his knees, but once Jay looked at him, he started to stand up. "Let's get you a drink since the rest of them are being miserable."

Jay assumed it was a joke, but only he (and probably Heeseung) seemed to think so. Karina let out a sound that sounded partly like a laugh and partly like a scoff.

"Way to make it awkward, Heeseung," she sneered.

"He's the one who probably feels so awkward with you all being so quiet," Heeseung said, patting Jay firmly on the shoulder to get him to stand up. Jay had to gently peel Yuna off of him before he got up to follow Heeseung. "We'll be back."

While Heeseung and him were making their way past groups of students packed together, Jay couldn't figure out what the hell to say to him. When he first walked in, the look in Heeseung's eyes made him think he was a piece of trash stuck to the bottom of his shoe, but now he was just lost.

"I haven't heard of you before," Heeseung said once they reached a long table with bottles of alcohol strewn about.

"I didn't expect you to. Today's my first day, anyway."

There was a bartender on the other side of the room, but Jay figured that Heeseung brought him here for a private conversation. Without even asking Jay about his preference, he let his hand glide over the handles before he picked out a bottle of tequila. Jay wasn't much of a drinker but he let Heeseung pour him a shot.

"What do your parents do?"

Jay couldn't stop himself from barking out a laugh, shaking his head fervently. "Oh, no, they're"—he shook his head again—"they're no one."

"They can't be 'no one' if they managed to get their son into Yale."

"They didn't get me into Yale."

"They still raised you, didn't they?" Heeseung raised a brow. "My mom's a preschool teacher, and my dad was unemployed up until my sophomore year of high school. Not the professions you expected, huh?"

Jay's brows raised in pleasant surprise. Here he thought that Heeseung was judging him, but maybe it was the exact opposite. He really didn't expect a sincere response from someone like him, but perhaps he just misjudged the junior.

"My mom's an office worker, and my dad used to be a firefighter before he got into an accident," Jay answered. "Now he has a corporate job."

"And you're..."

"I'm what?"

"What're you trying to be in the world?"

Jay took the plastic shot glass that Heeseung handed out to him. Before downing it in one go, he answered, "Someone."

Heeseung laughed. "At least you have more of a story than most of the people in this room." He shot one of the cluster of students a sideways glance and said, "Let's just say I wouldn't be surprised if most of the people here bought their way into Yale."

Jay swallowed hard. He couldn't say anything when he was technically one of those people, too. All his life, he slogged harder than anyone else for a place in the world. He worked at restaurants illegally since he was thirteen, studied tirelessly to get free rides to universities, and gave up a social life just to balance multiple jobs to get bills paid. It felt strange to be one of the people who didn't have to lift a finger for extraordinary opportunities.

For a moment, he wondered if he would get in if he tried applying on his own. There was no use in pondering, though; this was all simply for the assignment—nothing more, nothing less.

"You made it here on your own, didn't you?" Jay asked with a flickering, newfound respect for Lee Heeseung.

"I didn't even think I'd be able to pay for college when I was in high school," he answered. "Of course I needed to work hard. Getting a full ride into an Ivy League isn't something you get by fucking around. Even though Hoon and Y/N were set their whole lives... I couldn't just be the only one who didn't make it in."

Jay wondered why Heeseung was telling him, a total stranger, all of this. He didn't bring it up, though, in case the question sobered him up to the point of not revealing any further information.

But he had to ask, "So why'd you drag me out here for a drink?"

It was a fair question. There were bottles of alcohol on the table next to the sectional couch. If Heeseung really wanted to just pour him a drink, he could've done so then and there.

"Thought I'd save you from Yuna," he said. "She gets a little messy when she's drunk."

"Oh." Jay almost shuddered at the thought of what could've happened if he was still sitting on the couch.

"Sorry. Are you interested in her?"

Jay's eyes grew as wide as saucers as he shook his head firmly. "N-not at all. I just met her today."

The alcohol started coursing through his blood, making his limbs feel less like muscle and more like jelly. Yet, he strangely felt more comfortable in his body.

"Good." Heeseung leaned against the table and crossed his arms again. "I would've felt bad for you if you were actually into her. She definitely thinks this'll make me jealous somehow." He suddenly stiffened up. "Don't mention this to the others, though. I don't think Y/N would be happy if she found out."

He arched a brow at Heeseung. So you didn't know about your own friend's feelings toward your childhood friend? Even though you were in a relationship yourself? Interesting.

But even more interesting because Jay swore he saw pictures of Heeseung and Chaewon together on his Instagram. Pictures that seemed to imply that they were a couple. Their little inner circle seemed to be more convoluted than Jay initially thought.

"Haven't even met her," he told Heeseung. "I'm not the kind of person to spread people's secrets like that."

Unless I'm paid to do so, he thought bitterly.

Heeseung smiled slyly, and Jay wasn't sure if it was one of friendship or as if he had just heard an enticing business proposal. "I hope my feeling about you is right." After grabbing the handle of Clase Azul on the table, he added, "Let's go back before they accuse me of scaring you off."

Jay followed after him, wondering if he had just accidentally gotten himself in Heeseung's good graces, or if he just made a grave mistake.

Jay decided to ask, "Hey, by the way, do you know about the Order of Kryptos?"

Heeseung stopped in his tracks immediately, spinning around so fast that Jay nearly stumbled over his feet.

"What about it?"

"Well, I just—I don't know—I was thinking of, uh, joining."

"You can't just join. You have to be invited." Despite the shame that burned under Jay's skin for sounding like an idiot in front of the junior, Heeseung's eyes twinkled. "But... I know someone you could talk to if you wanna get your foot in the door."

"You do?"

"This isn't like a frat where you have to rush. See, all these people here just target members of the current class and suck up to them until they get tapped. For example, Hoon's practically guaranteed a tap since his brother's in the Order right now."

"Then do you think I even have a chance?"

Heeseung shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. There's only fifteen seats, so it all depends on how much you impress them." He grabbed Jay by the shoulder and pointed out one of the seniors laughing with a couple other boys in the kitchen. "That's Jeong Jaehyun. He's probably the chillest in the Order—doesn't really give a fuck about prestige and background, or whatever. I'd talk to him when you get the chance."

Jay, wildly amazed with how big of a help Heeseung was being, returned the gesture by patting him on the back firmly. "Thanks, man."

"No worries. You should work fast, though. They start giving up their seats next semester."

Next semester. Jay was certain he could get on someone's good side by then.

This whole thing was rather frustrating for him, though. All Jay wanted to do was lay low and carry out his assignment properly, but to do so he needed to get close to you and your friends somehow. Impressing you meant impressing a senior to get into the Order. There seemed to be far too many hurdles he needed to cross just to uncover some dirt on you.

When he and Heeseung returned to the sectional couch, everyone seemed a smidge more lively. Yeonjun waved Jay over to introduce himself properly, claiming that he couldn't say anything earlier because Yuna was hogging all the attention. Yuna, on the other hand, seemed to have already blacked out on the couch, but none of her friends were exactly paying much attention to her. Jay wondered if this was a frequent occurence with her.

While Jay was in the middle of telling Yeonjun and Giselle about the school he transferred from, you came out from the terrace with Sunghoon, but there was an icy distance between you two.

Jay had spent the past week looking at pictures of you every single night. Almost every picture you had on your Instagram was burned into his brain.

But seeing you up close in the flesh was almost earth-shattering. All the details your camera couldn't capture were like the missing pieces that made you glow even brighter. Jay was almost amazed that Park Sunghoon could even fight with you when you looked like this.

"Y/N?" Karina called, but you were crossing the room in the direction of the bathroom. She threw a nasty glare at Sunghoon, who sat down on the couch with a heavy sigh.

Giselle raised a brow. "You're gonna let your girlfriend walk away?"

"She needs space," Sunghoon answered curtly.

"Oh, I bet she gets plenty of that from you."

"Watch your mouth, Giselle."

Jay wasn't sure if Heeseung was making the right decision when he stood up and offered, "Hoon, chill. I'll go check on her."

Chaewon was quick to grab her boyfriend's hand, frowning as she said, "I think one of the girls should."

Heeseung pulled his hand away, and Jay noticed the crumbling look in Chaewon's eyes before he pretended to be more interested in a loose thread in the couch. He felt bad for her; she was practically being humiliated in front of everyone else.

"I'm the host," Heeseung replied. "I should check on her."

Karina shot Yeonjun and Giselle a withering look. "Our Uber's almost here. I don't think she wants to go home with"—she motioned to Sunghoon with a jut of her chin—"you know."

"I'll ask Ryujin to take her home, but we should probably tell her before we leave," Yeonjun said. He lowered his voice to add, "Yuna's wasted. You know Heeseung's gonna get pissed if she crashes here."

Giselle snorted. "That's probably what she wants."

Jay looked down at his lap. So everyone was aware of Yuna's semi-hidden feelings toward Heeseung except you? Why was it a secret from you, anyway? This friend group—if Jay could even call them that—was messier than he had anticipated.

Jay, who was seated in the middle of the trio, started to feel rather awkward. Surely, they must have known he could hear everything they were saying.

"Uh," he started because he was starting to feel like he was obligated to chime in, "I can call an Uber for your friend, if she needs one."

"Aw, Jay, you're too sweet," Giselle cooed, but then her face of adoration turned completely serious. "But you're a man. We don't trust you."

"That... that's fair."

"Oh, but he's Sunoo's friend," Yeonjun added. "Sunoo would get her home safely."

"Just ask Sunoo or Ryujin—whoever's still here," Giselle said.

Karina, who was on her phone for a majority of the conversation, spoke up to confirm, "Yeah, their locations are still here. I'll text them to make sure Y/N's taken care of." She stood up. "Let's just get going and check up on her later in the group chat."

"God, how are we gonna drag Yuna out of here?" Giselle whined. She gently maneuvered the unconscious girl to make it easier for them to lift her up. "Yeonjun, you get her other arm."

After much effort, they were finally able to get Yuna barely stumbling forward as her arms were around their shoudlers. They said their goodbyes to Jay and Chaewon, but Sunghoon only got one from Yeonjun.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes and moved to sit next to Jay. Chaewon was completely sidelined at this point as she picked at her nails and waited for Heeseung to come back.

"Sorry for that mess," Sunghoon said. "I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Park Sunghoon."

"Jay," he greeted. "Nice to meet you. Heeseung told me a bit about you."

"Oh, really?" He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I hope it wasn't too awkward."

Jay grinned. "All good things. Don't worry."

"Great, uh..." He fumbled for a moment, reaching into his pockets and then handing Jay a pink iPhone. "Do you think you could hand this to my girlfriend? She should be somewhere in the house."

Although Jay took the phone from him, he grimaced. He didn't even know you, and he felt bad already. Your own boyfriend was sending a stranger to give you something when he could very well do it by himself?

And why did he have your phone in the first place? Jay wondered if Sunghoon had taken it from you during the argument, and the very idea made him feel cold.

"I really think you should give it to her."

His small smile stretched into an awkward grin. "I don't think she wants to see my face right now."

"Oh... sure—will do."

This time when Jay crossed the room and pushed through the packs of students, it felt slightly more intimidating. He felt like a lone fish amongst schools of them, and the few shots he took had definitely worn off by now. Not to mention the recent turn of events were incredibly sobering.

Heeseung's penthouse was nice. Nothing he could ever dream of affording before his anonymous client sent him more money than he would've ever made in his life.

When Jay stepped into the narrow hallway that led to the bathroom, he could hear Heeseung's gentle voice echoing.

"—talk to me, please," he pleaded. "I don't know what Sunghoon said to you, but—"

"Heeseung, just leave me alone." Your own faltering voice was treading on desperation. "You don't have to be here to comfort me. You're not my boyfriend."

And then it grew quiet. Jay was afraid that he was about to walk in on an uncomfortable situation.

Seconds later, the door opened and Heeseung was stony-faced, walking past Jay without even noticing he was there. You didn't even close the door after he left, so Jay inched closer to make sure nothing bad happened to you.

There you were, sitting on the edge of the bathtub and crying into your hands. There was an odd, disconnected feeling in Jay's chest. He had seen so many pictures and posts of you looking like you were having the time of your life, but the sight before him caused all of that to come crashing down, catching on fire.

Back outside, looking up at the terrace, you were so high above him, as if he would never reach you. Now, you were shattering to pieces before him, leaving broken shards scattered around you that Jay was hesitant to tread on.

Once you took notice of his presence, your head lifted up slowly, and Jay really felt bad for you now. Streaks of mascara were under your eyes and your red lipstick was smudged.

"Can I help you?" you asked flatly, sniffling every now and then even as you tried to act like you hadn't been caught crying.

Jay simply held your phone out, and you grabbed it from him once you recognized it was yours.

"How'd you—"

"Your boyfriend told me to bring it to you," he answered, and your eyes welled up with tears again. Jay sighed as you started breaking down in front of him, but he really wasn't all that annoyed as he sounded. He grabbed a tissue from the box on top of the toilet and ran it under water for a brief second. "Here."

Jay leaned down in front of you and blotted the tissue gently under your eyes, wiping off the residue of your mascara that stained your skin. You tried to resist his gesture at first, but when you realized what he was doing, you relaxed. If his eyes weren't tricking him, maybe you were even slightly embarrassed?

Then, he moved to your lips, using the other side of the tissue to carefully dab at where your lipstick was smudged. Jay tried especially hard not to stare at the curve of your lips, wondering what dark secret you could possibly be hiding behind the corners of your mouth. After he was done, he tossed the tissue aside and stood up.

"Thanks," you murmured.

"No problem," he said, backing up to the doorway. "You should probably keep the door closed if you need some alone time, by the way."

But one look at your expression, and he could tell that you were hoping that someone else would come looking for you.

"Y-yeah," you stammered out, standing up to close it yourself.

"Also," he continued, pressing his lips together in a thin line. Just walk away, Jay. This is none of your business. Just turn around and keep walking. "Your friends are worried about you, so..."

There's people out there who wouldn't make you cry like this.

He couldn't get the rest of the words out. Who was he to speak on a relationship he had only seen for a brief moment, anyway?

Before Jay could turn on his heel, you called out, "Wait! What was your name again?"

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "Jay Park. I just transferred here."

"Jay... oh, the transfer student." You said his name so gently that it was almost like you were handling glass. Then, he saw the first smile on your face tonight, and oh, he had never seen someone smile so bright. "I'm Y/N. See you around."

After you closed the door and Jay had headed back to where everyone else was, the loud, booming music grounding him back into reality, his heart sank with the realization that he had already been thrown into a world that he wasn't sure he liked very much.

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SUMMARY ▸ private investigator jay park just wants to complete his mission quietly and move on with his life. you, his new assignment who keeps consuming his thoughts, don't make that very easy for him.

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[pia-nor481]

She…What? Chapter Five

Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Daniel ricciardo x Reader

Daniel finally talks to Oscar and Lando just can’t help but put his hands on her

2.1k words 18+

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Oscar couldn't move, he knew he should have, maybe run to Lando say what he saw. No that would be extremely selfish to ruin his night. Something was pulling Oscar in and keeping him there. He shouldn't be watching his friend's Girlfriend getting railed by another man, and he most certainly shouldn't be squeezing his cock at the sight. Twice tonight she's gotten him hard and yet this time he had no problem with it. He was pulled back to reality upon feeling his phone vibrate in his back pocket. It was a message from Lando asking where he was. He looked up one more time before turning away, hoping he'll remember the image of her tomorrow.

She awoke with a pounding headache the next morning, naked in Daniel's bed. "Morning Darling." He grumbled, pulling her closer to avoid the light from the open curtains. She moaned quietly pushing her head further into his chest, not wanting to wake up quite yet. "No, hurts too much." She never really knew her limit when it came to anything so trusting her with alcohol could be dangerous, especially when she wakes up hung over. "I know love." Daniel whispered sweetly, playing with her hair before reaching for the nightstand, grabbing water and some ibuprofen. Daniel didn't drink too much last night, he didn't feel like he deserved it. They continued to enjoy the others company for a while, waiting for the pain killers to kick in. "So, last night, what happened with Lando." Daniel said, lying back with a smirk on his face. "Wow you really are interested in your friend's sex life, it's almost like you want to fuck him yourself." She laughed, finally sitting up as he rolled his eyes. "Well, he blindfolded me, tied my wrists and make me watch him fuck me in front of the mirror, you know, the usual." She laughed, looking for any item of clothing she could used to cover her chest.

"Can we talk about something more serious?" Her head turned fast at his question, chest filling with worry. "Always." She whispered, coming back to him. Daniel let out a large sigh before beginning to speak. "So you remember Oscar seeing us last night?" She nodded slowly, knowing this could be a problem for his career, if Oscar decided to be really petty it could go all wrong for Daniel. "Why didn't you tell me you were sleeping with him." He said with a pointed tone, she was not expecting such an aggressive start to the day. "I'm not now, nor was I before. We agreed that if we were to sleep with anyone then we'd consult each other first... What's happened?" Her hand made contact with his chest, feeling the rapid heart rate. "I saw him in the elevator before I went to the club yesterday, and I may or may not have started on him. But he was still nice to me after and I feel like a bit of a dick. But then he saw us and well, he was getting off on it. No one normal would do that unless they were involved before, and I know for fact that I wasn't sleeping with him." First he was jealous of Lando and now Oscar, he was going a bit too far after being the one to suggest this relationship. "Maybe he's just a pit of a perv because I promise you I've not had any form of sex with him, or frankly even had any contact with him." She elaborated, swinging a leg over Daniel's lap. "Then why was there a McLaren hoodie with the number eighty-one on it in you're room?" He said clearly still annoyed. "Because, Lando was walking around the paddock hard and Oscar was being kind by giving him the hoodie to cover up. Lando left it behind the first time I gave him a blowjob. You can ask him you're self." She spoke quietly with her arms crossed over her chest. "No I believe what you're saying it just hard for me to adjust. That's no excuse but it's the reason. I needed to shift the blame from myself. But that's wrong of me. I'm sorry Love." He muttered the last part into her skin, running his hands over her hips. Guilt quickly consumed him.

"Would you be okay if it happens in the future because I have a feeling either Lando will ask for him or he'll come directly to me." She asked worried it could end badly. "Not really. If I'm honest, I'm still kinda mad at him. I know, I know he's not done anything but still. I just don't know about him. It's different with Lando, I'm actually close with him you know...Let me sort some things out with him first. Then we'll see." He said, chest puffed out slightly. Her nerves eased slightly as she grabbed his jaw, kissing his lips softly.

"You know what I'm like...I love to tease my men." She giggled out, receiving a harsh smack on her ass. "Don't start. You know what I'm like, I'll punish you." He said in a low voice, pulling her up so she was in his lap." You know I'd like that, Danny." She was quick to start grinding down, moaning quietly. "Darling, we can't. We have to be out of the room in half an hour." He groaned desperately wanting her. "Fine." She huffed rolling off of him, looking in his suitcase. "You were fucked twice yesterday and that still wasn't enough, need me to get you off again. Truly insatiable." The Australian laughed, bringing his hand behind his head, letting a sigh escape his lips. "You've never complained." She muttered, throwing a shirt at him. "I could never, I love watching you cum. Although it's not fair that women can have multiple orgasms and men can't. Otherwise you'd be on my dick a lot more." Her only response was a quick laugh as she grabbed his things, placing them neatly in his suitcase. "As much as I love seeing you like this, you need to put some clothes on. My room is a mess and we need to go soon." She stated, pulling Daniel from under the covers.

They walked rather quick towards her room, Daniel's hand around her waist as they made their way through the hallway. After struggling with the key to the door she rushed towards the bed. Daniel was quick to follow, deciding it was best to help her gather her things. "Woah, you didn't tell me you bought this." He stated dumbfoundedly, holding up a slick red vibrator. "I have to keep some tricks up my sleeve." She grabbed the silk from the floor and folded it quickly in her hands, placing it gently in her suitcase. "Oh, you weren't kidding about the blind fold. You really did have fun yesterday." He laughed tapping her ass before walking around the room, noticing the infamous McLaren hoodie. "You still have this?" She looked up briefly before zipping her last bag up. "Yes, I've not had the time to give it back. Lando was supposed to take it back to him the other day actually." She grumbled to herself, headache coming back. Daniel carried the hoodie in his left hand while guiding her out of the room. "Let's get you something to eat, it should help." They left the room in silence and headed towards the lift, she hugged him close as the dizziness set in. "I'm going to take this back to Oscar, gives me an excuse to talk with him." Daniel said, shrugging his shoulders. She smiled before replying, "I'll walk there with you, I want to speak with Lando, see if he even alive."

They walked back into the paddock late in the afternoon. Daniel needed to speak to his team about the race the day before as well as speak with Oscar. They made way to the McLaren hospitality and waited for the drivers to come out. Lando was first to make an appearance, coffee in his hands, trying to stay awake. "Hey Lovely." He whispered out, kissing her cheek. "You alright mate?" He turned to Daniel with a puzzled look. "Yeah, I'm good, you good to speak later though? The usual?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow. Lando nodded, slipping his hand in hers. "Can you do me a favour? Send Oscar out here. I need to talk to him." Lando nodded once more, guiding her into the building. It was a general rule that other drivers were not allowed into another team's hospitality. "Hey Osc, Daniel wants to speak with you outside." Oscar was shocked, that much as clear from his face.

If Daniel was concerned about him telling the media about what he saw that was understandable, but realistically he wasn't going to say anything, no matter how much Daniel disliked him. He was nervous walking through the door, he didn't know what to expect. The first thing Oscar noticed was his hoodie in the hands on the other Australian. "So...What did you want to talk about?" His nerves were showing, Daniel handed to top to him before speaking. "Mostly what you saw last night." Oscar cheeks pinked at the thought, if he was being honest, he masturbated in the morning thinking about her, he wanted to be the one making her moan. "That's fucked up man. You cant do things like that to your friend." He was almost furious that how casual Daniel was making the situation. "Hold on, it's not what you think...Lando knows." Daniel rushed out, pulling Oscar to the side, hopefully avoiding the listening ears of everyone around, Oscar let out a quiet and confused 'what?' before letting Daniel speak again. "Look, we have a pretty odd relationship. We were guess together first and I suggested that she start seeing Lando as well." Oscar's jaw dropped midway through the explanation. "She was with Lando the day you gave him you're hoodie, and that may have caused some temporary problems between us. You know, communication is pretty important in this kind of relationship. Well what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry for talking to you like that yesterday, you didn't deserve that." Daniel averted his eyes, felling slightly embarrassed. "Thanks, sorry I just don't really know how to react. I understand why you're so mad though. Technically I did take your seat and caused a multitude of problems for you, so it's alright."

"I do have a few questions if that's alright." Oscar stated, pulling the hoodie over his head, quickly realising it didn't smell like him or Lando. Daniel nodded quickly, looking around. "So is this some kind of open relationship or is she...you know... a prostitute?" Oscar cringed using that word but anything else sounded too vulgar. Daniel laughed loudly, head falling back slightly. "No she's not. We aren't really together either. It's complicated. But yeah, I think open relationship is the best way to put it." Oscar nodded, finally understanding, although he with still on edge around him.

At the same time, Lando was quick to pull her into his drivers room. Kissing her neck as soon as the door was closed, she moaned quietly, knowing there was still plenty of McLaren employees in the building. "Missed you." He mumbled into her skin. It was when Lando woke up to an empty space on his bed he realised how much he craved her presence. "You were with me last night." She giggled, feeling him sucking on the base of her neck. He wanted to tell her she was all he could think about, he wanted to say that she was consuming him, but he just couldn't, he didn't know how. "Doesn't mean I don't miss you." She tugged on his hair lightly, wanting to look at him. "I have a little proposal to tell you about." Lando moved back, pulling her to sit on the bed with him. "Daniel and I have talked about it and of course I need to speak with you as well. What about bringing Oscar in on this?" Lando didn't speak for a while, and it concerned her very much. "I mean, I don't really mind. It doesn't affect me too much." He shrugged his shoulders as he spoke. Not really seeing how this was supposed to bother him. "Don't tell him about it though, I want to see how he reacts to being told about our relationship. I'm not sure whether he will ask you or me about it first." She said, lifting his shirt up. Lando made haste in pulling it off, reaching for her top. "Definitely ask me...Now come on, take your clothes off."

Chapter Six

[saerins]

─── 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍-𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏

+ michael kaiser x f!reader | wc 2.8k | content: fluff, kaiser is persistent lol, making out, suggestive

notes: idk babes …. hopefully i didn’t butcher him <3 running back to sae after this 🫡 kaiser lovers, enjoy the one and only kaiser fic on my blog !! hehe

summary: kaiser has more reason to visit his regular cafe spot now. and he’s not gonna quit until he makes you his.

kaiser thinks you’re pretty.

call him stupid or superficial or whatever, but he can’t help it. he walks over to the far end of the counter where you’re working, staring intently at the latte art you’re doing.

it’s horrible. you’re probably new. figures, because he lives right above in the apartment complex and he’s never seen you here before. it’s a damn crime.

“i want a flat white cappuccino, hot, and could you make it with a heart on top?”

you furrow your brows and look up at him, his elbows propped on the stainless steel countertop, cheeky smirk filling his face. you continue wearing your straight expression as you go back to the task at hand.

“i’m not the waiter. you can ask mimiko, she’s the one at the register.”

kaiser doesn’t know her either. she must be new too.

you’re not that friendly. not that kaiser minds; he’ll break through your walls. that’s his personal challenge. he’ll do it.

“but i wanna talk to you.”

still unamused, you sigh and look at him, putting down your frother.

“get in line.”

“hey y/n!”

kaiser’s still optimistic after the failed fifth attempt. he managed to get your name from mimiko when you finally made him go away that first day he saw you. to which you groaned, but kaiser only grinned.

today’s no different. you frown when he walks in, immediately relegating to the back corner of the bar. too bad though, kaiser’s got charms, he’s made quick friends with everyone else here plus he has the famous soccer player privilege so your other colleagues love him.

that’s why he manages to get behind the counter in no time, saying he’ll help work the register. but really, he has no clue what to do and he’s just dilly-dallying around you.

“no, real talk, why do you hate me so much?” kaiser asks, not really bothered but more curious.

you don’t even take him seriously. you’ve looked at him probably about twice this entire day, and one time wasn’t even by choice; it was only because kaiser was blocking your path to the fridge and wouldn’t budge unless you said please. (you didn’t. you just glared at him until he moved.)

“i don’t like your hair.”

“hey, what’s wrong with my hair?”

you shrug. “just don’t like it.”

“okay but what about my tattoos, you like those right?”

kaiser moves to adjust his shirt to let you see but you walk off.

“not really.”

he sighs, you’re really hard to get close to, he’ll give you that. but he’s not one to give up.

before kaiser can say anything else, a bunch of girls from the counter call your name, and he sees you smile for the first time since he’s met you and he feels even more hooked on you.

the control you have over him is pretty insane, and it’s only because kaiser allows it.

you and your friends talk about normal stuff. they’re asking how work’s going and you say it’s fine—just that there’s an annoying guy that won’t quit talking to you.

“wow, fifth date and you’re already telling your friends about me?” kaiser interjects, putting an arm around your shoulder and greeting your friends. he’s positive you’re seething right now, but he continues on. “hey there, you can call me kaiser.”

as your friends blush and introduce themselves, all kaiser notices is how you don’t push him away like you always used to upon first contact. so hey, maybe he is making progress after all.

“so, barista y/n l/n, what’re your plans for today?”

it’s been two months since you started working in the cafe, and it’s been two months since kaiser’s relentless pursuit. he’s not backing down though.

“well, player michael kaiser, that’s none of your business,” you absentmindedly respond as you clean the glass in your hand with the cloth and put it back up on the shelf.

lucky for him, mimiko is on his side.

“our dear y/n has a blind date tonight,” she coos, getting a sigh out of you and winking at kaiser.

“first of all, i’m not a player,” kaiser makes sure to tell you, hurriedly making his way behind the counter as if he owns the place. “second of all, who’s the guy?”

you press your lips into a firm line and repeat yourself, “none of your business, kaiser.”

“but it is.”

“why the hell would it be?”

kaiser pouts. “because i like you.”

it takes you a while to respond, swallowing the lump in your throat. “i’ve been nothing but mean to you, you sure you’re not just a masochist?”

that’s a blatant lie, kaiser knows. he knows you’re not actually mean, you just have a sharp tongue.

kaiser notices how you notice him—placing three sugars in his coffee and doing it for him whenever you make it. adding to that; you personally make all of kaiser’s drinks instead of handing it to the other barista, and you make little hearts on top. (at first he thought you might’ve really wanted to poison him, but hey, he’s alive so probably not.) he knows you give someone else the horrible latte art and give him the nicer one you do. he knows how you’ve never actually been mean to him aside from saying you hated his hair and tattoos. (but then he also caught you staring at the rose that one time so maybe you don’t.)

“nope, pretty sure i like you,” kaiser affirms, because in the sunlight he thinks your invisible halo is shining and he’d be a lot more lovestruck now if half of him wasn’t upset that you’re going to go on a blind date when he can’t even score alone time with you.

“what’s his name?” he asks you again, when you don’t respond to him.

it’s about a half hour till closing, he’ll have the whole time to pitch himself to you, maybe. score a date or something. hell, maybe he’ll even convince you not to go on the—

“y/n, right?”

kaiser whips his head to the side to see your supposed date already here.

“i’m yukimiya kenyu,” he’s shaking your hand and you’re actually smiling. at a guy. do you smile at anyone as long as they’re not kaiser? “ready to go?”

“she has another half hour to go, idiot,” kaiser lets slip, catching a warning glare from you.

yukimiya grins sheepishly at the animosity, but you’re quick to defuse the tension. “actually i get off a half hour early today so i’m good to go,” you tell yukimiya, ignoring kaiser behind you. “just let me get my bag and we can go, okay?”

while you’re in the back clocking out, kaiser glares at your date, who’s leaning against the counter and scrolling through his socials. he’s clean, neat, looks like he could be a model. is that your type? kaiser can do that too, does he need to show you all the endorsement deals he’s done?

you leave without saying goodbye, laser focused on yukimiya and whatever the fuck he’s saying and kaiser has never felt more irritated.

“so, how’s your date with pretty boy?”

that’s mimiko asking, because kaiser is still a little pouty even a week later.

“it was fine, we’re into a lot of the same stuff apparently.”

kaiser’s still hovering around you though, because it’s off-season and he’s going to spend every moment he can chasing you. you’re not making it easy though. you’re still giving him the cold shoulder sometimes.

“when’s the next date?”

kaiser is too focused on the thin air he’s staring into to notice you briefly throwing him a quick glance.

“don’t know if there is one, honestly.”

that manages to get kaiser’s attention, his mood immediately perking up and eyes now fully focused on you.

“why not? thought you guys had a lot in common or whatever,” kaiser half-mocks, still a little salty. (which is a little funny to you, considering what kind of person he is in the soccer world.)

you roll your eyes and sigh, moving to keep all the cutleries that you’ve just shined. “don’t know,” you tell them, “maybe because when i was on the date i kept thinking of this annoying guy i know.”

kaiser freezes up. did you really just say that? he’s going to take a shot and just assume he’s the only annoying guy you know. no one should take that position from him.

from the side, mimiko slowly shuffles away, leaving the two of you alone by the coffee machine.

“so… does that mean you’re giving annoying guy a shot?” kaiser’s grinning from ear to ear now, and it’s probably infectious because you’re trying to suppress a grin too.

“maybe, but if he screws it up i’m done with him.”

you’re still trying to act fierce, but it’s too late because kaiser can see through it now. you’re really just a softie inside, aren’t you?

“then are you free this weekend?”

you look at him for the first time with no disinterest in your eyes, like you’re really looking at him now. “what for?”

kaiser smirks. “annoying guy is gonna take you out for the best first date of your life.”

kaiser doesn’t know if he succeeded. but hey, it’s been three hours since the date started and you haven’t run away yet so he must be doing okay.

he takes you to the amusement park first, because one time when you were idly chattering away with mimiko he heard you saying you haven’t been to one in ages. so here you are, on the third rollercoaster ride and you’re having so much fun kaiser’s proud of himself.

turns out you’re surprisingly nice to be around when you’re not being such a grouch. kaiser’s only liking you even more now. likes you even when you’re so excited to eat the corn dog that you get mustard on your face—that only means he gets to wipe it off. likes you also when you bat your pretty eyelashes at him so he’d win you that bunny toy you like in the claw machine.

“so, how am i doing?” kaiser asks when he escorts you to his car—next stop is dinner.

you hum, taking a bite of the big unicorn candy floss in your hand. “a solid six.”

kaiser clicks his tongue in faux annoyance, “it’ll be an eleven by the end of tonight.”

you laugh again and kaiser thinks all this work is worth it. he opens the car door for you, makes sure the aircon isn’t too cold that you freeze, lets you play your music in his car.

you’re kind of the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, but then again he might be biased. but who cares? you’re also kind of one of the most annoying, but you think the same of him. and you’re not scared of jumping into anything, he can tell because when he pulls up in a parking lot outside of the restaurant, he tells you he wants to kiss you kinda.

your answer?

kaiser never really expected you to agree. but you do; because you climb over to the driver’s seat and settle on his lap, your lips inches away and a smirk forming on your face when you see he’s taken off guard.

“want me to kiss you, kaiser?” you’re teasing him, and he thinks you’ve never looked hotter. he can feel your breath against his lips and fuck your lips are so so close and he wants to taste you so so bad.

but then he remembers who he is and straightens up, cursing himself for letting himself be so flustered into submission. “only if the lady wants it.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes and moving to open his side of the door, “well, if you don’t wanna—”

kaiser closes the door as soon as it opens and turns you to face him, “fuck, just kiss me already.”

the two of you hold onto each other, his hands around your waist and entangled in your hair, his lips gentle and rough on yours both at the same time. you taste sweet, must be all that candy floss you ate. he wants to taste more of you. the little sounds you make when you’re almost out of breath? music to his fucking ears. he’s so whipped for you and he hates you for it. but he also loves you for being like this, for being you.

you’re the first to pull away, smirking and biting your lower lip as you keep your index finger on his lips, separating him from you. “how was that, kaiser?” he doesn’t think you can sound more seductive if you tried.

“y/n l/n, you drive me insane.”

kaiser can’t even focus on dinner after that.

fourth date in and kaiser’s fucking pathetic.

really, he can’t even remember ever being this pathetic because you’ve got him wrapped around your cute little pinky finger.

“what’re you staring at, perv?” you ask, catching him staring as you’re idly flipping through the channels.

it’s a lazy sunday in, you and kaiser are at his apartment, on his bed, watching movies. kaiser sighs because ness walked in on the both of you earlier and even though he’s more than happy to show you off, he’s not looking forward to the interrogation that will unfold.

“staring at your stupid pretty face,” kaiser says, and you avert your gaze, pouting, which kaiser has found out two days ago is just to subvert from your embarrassment.

“hey, when’re you leaving for the champions league again?”

“next week, why?”

you deadpan at him, “what, not gonna invite me to something?”

kaiser stares at you for a minute, dumbfounded, before laughing. that must be the first time ever that you’re asking him for something. up until now, it’s always been him.

“you know what, forget i asked,” you grumble, pouting even more and kaiser has to peck a kiss on your lips from how adorable he thinks you’re being.

“fuck, you’re cute,” he thinks out loud, and you look away.

it’s not like the both of you are together, he thinks, as his finger moves up and down your arms, watching as the goosebumps appear and disappear. but kaiser whatever this situation is, kaiser wants it. he wants this and more and he’s so far gone in you and he doesn’t mind.

“you better be in the front row, okay?” kaiser tells you that night, resuming that conversation. you move to straddle him instead and relish in how he’s dragging his eyes all over your body.

“yes, sir.”

fuck, you really do drive him fucking insane.

kaiser finds it sexy, how you’re in the front row at one of his matches, how you’re wearing a jersey with his name and number on it, how he knows you’re cheering for him and him only.

he invites you to all of his games, puts you up in his hotel, sneaks you around so you won’t be under the public eye. it’s thrilling, and you’re still the same you, beautiful, gorgeous, kind.

you’re still not together, but now he’s sure where he’s headed with you. after six months of whatever this is, he thinks you’d kill him if you weren’t sure. and kaiser thinks you’re just waiting for him, so he’s going to make it memorable.

so, so memorable.

his team makes it to the finals, and with noel noa leading everyone, it’s no surprise they win. the bleachers go wild, everyone is chanting the club cheer, fanning their merch wildly.

kaiser is being pounced on by ness and his other teammates, so is noel. but kaiser pushes through it, weaves out of it, and he’s headed straight to you.

in front of everyone in the stadium, in front of international television, kaiser is running across the field and making his way to you.

kaiser is fast and persistent and so pathetic because he’s so into you and all he knows is he wants you around. for a long time, and forever, if he dare say. so he throws his legs over the railing and kisses you without hesitation, the entire crowd going wild.

he’s kissing you, slow and smiling against your lips and you’re holding onto his arms and fuck you’re so perfect.

“well,” you say when kaiser finally pulls away, his hand still on the back of your neck, “that’s one way to make things public.”

kaiser chuckles, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “now the whole world knows you’re mine,” he says, aware that everyone on his team is probably passing money around because he’s sure they bet on when he’d finally make you his girlfriend.

“you’re crazy, michael kaiser.”

yeah, but you love him, don’t you?

he loves you too, by the way.

kaiser pulls away and winks at you right before he gets ready to get back to his team.

“guess i’ll have to top this when i ask you to marry me, huh?”

[itsabouttimex2]

Ok, ok, HEAR ME OUT-

How about lmk Monkeifam and Bullfam with a Y/N who isn't afraid to throw hands —

Like i mean in a response to trauma or manipulation, becouse i fell it isn't explore enough in this situation -

Sure, your loved that you belived was a friend trapped /kidnapped/gaslight you is heartbreaking and of course you are gonna be sad and more incline to behave butttt-

There is always the other way of absolute rage that comes in once you realized you have been trapped/kidnapped /gaslight ecc- like i don't care anymore, i wanna throw hands, those people are death to me.(even thought this isn't the smarter choice considering the strenght of some of the people here) like them breaking Y/N down so they can comfort them to manipulate them, but then unsurprisingly the get the biggest smack/punch of their life . Just- wow the audacity.

Throwing Hands

Bullfam & Monkiefam

“…is this some sort of pathetic attempt at ‘rebellion’, Y/N? I am not impressed.”

Your hands straight bounce. Like punching a bag of wet cement, the Demon Bull King’s skin just shifts around under your fists, never breaking or bruising. You only shatter yourself against it, leaving you worn and looking foolish.

He might not even punish you, given that it’s likely that you break a wrist on impact.

“Now, look what you’ve done to yourself, foolish child. Did you truly think your mortal flesh could stand a demon king’s might? Well, now you know better.”

You lost your temper and struck him. Immediately, you learn better than to do that ever again, and he considers it lesson enough.

Surprisingly merciful, all things considered. (Partially because he finds it somewhat funny.)

I once said in my yandere alphabet that: “Red Son doesn’t want to waste his time doing something like caning or whipping you”. And though I think that viewpoint is usually true…

This changes that. It’s maybe the only situation where he would actively engage in any form of normalized torture “corporal punishment”.

Being physically attacked switches Red from ‘mildly reasonable, if a bit hair-trigger’ to ‘vicious and cruel’. Through brute force alone does he wrestle you into submission, binding your arms behind your back with a pair of metal cuffs.

He tosses you onto the nearest bed and couch before burning the lower half of your clothing off. He then takes up a thin metal rod to utilize in “disciplining” you, sharply lashing it down against your now unprotected skin. He’ll leave puffy, bleeding welts from the top of your rear to the bottom of your thighs, ensuring that you won’t even be able to think about walking for at least a week.

Problem is that not only does it not solve the problem of you being scared and angry, it also just… makes him feel bad afterwards. It breaks him, seeing you weep brokenly over his bed. Blood sluggishly trickles from the skin he’s lashed open, and you scream your lungs out into the sheets as you try to adjust to the pain.

And then he “has to” (wants to, in truth) settle in for some awkward form of aftercare, offering lotion and bandages. When you don’t accept, he forces you to drink a cup of honeyed tea loaded with sedatives because you won’t stop shrieking.

Antiseptic while you’re asleep, a few stitches here and there, then the lotion and bandages he tried earlier. And then a few cautious back rubs, trying to calm your fitful slumber.

“Gods, Y/N… what have I done to you? I… I was just… I was… no, I… I’m sorry.”

An outright dodge. Princess Iron Fan has no time for your nonsense. For trying, she’ll lock you into whatever room has been set aside for you, barring the door with powerful magic.

One shallowly-filled bowl of food every two days, adding just a little bit more to it each day. One ceramic cup of room temperature water every four hours. A change of clothes every three days. Instead of brute force, Iron Fan teaches you through deprivation.

After a month of this, she might see fit you allow you back out of your room, letting you mingle with the family you have been forced to adopt.

After writing her a letter of apology, of course. Two pages. Pray you have the mind to keep your pencil steady.

So very many tears to deal with, probably on both ends. MK knows that he’s doing isn’t all that great, sure… but it’s because he loves you!

Can’t you love him back, please? Ok, he’s been manipulating you! Maybe he’s been driving some friends away! Maybe he’s sent a few clones to tail you around the city! But, please, please- you can’t stop loving him! He just can’t risk having you hurt!

“Please, Y/N! You don’t understand! I’m just trying to keep you safe! You can hit me again, hit me as many times as you want! Just- please, Y/N… I need you. Please…”

His last resort is stuffing you in Shuilian Cave, given that you can’t escape with his or Sun Wukong’s help. Maybe a few ropes to keep you in place. He’ll cry with each knot tied, begging you not to hate him.

Sun Wukong tanks your punch and gives your head a little pat, frowning at the display. “Sorry, bud. Trust me, I know I’m not exactly the good guy here. Go ahead and let it out. I… kinda deserve it, huh?”

The Great Sage knows you have every reason to be upset. Really, you do. All there’s only so much waylaying of emotions to be done, unfortunately. You were going to crack eventually.

He stands firmly in place, one hand rubbing your back while you break your fists against his body, watching you scream and cry. The man is just… unsurprised? He’s starting to realize that he messes up a lot of things.. So just letting you whale on him seems fair, gently trying to shush your angry tears while your skin grinds to bloody pulp against his shredded abdomen.

“How about I make us some tea,” he offers afterwards, surveying your destroyed hands. “And I’ll patch you up. Then… I think you’ve earned yourself an early bedtime for the rest of the week, bud.”

“Oh, kiddo. Do you know what “screwing up” is? After this, they’re gonna put your picture in the dictionary as an example.”

Macaque does not tolerate having hands laid on him. Not by friends, not by enemies. And certainly not by his little student, who is supposed to be wide-eyed and placid, in awe of his every move and strike.

You are supposed to be sweet and respectful. You are supposed to be kind and loving.

And he’s sure that with a little bit of “training”, he’ll get you back to that disposition.

He’ll snap his fingers with an angry snarl, shadows springing all around you like cold wires. You are gagged with a cold ebon muzzle, both your hands locked inside a cuff of swirling black and purple. You want to act like an animal? Macaque will chain you to the wall by your new muzzle and treat you like an animal.

Maybe a few days spent so on a chain so short you can’t lay down will teach you better than to raise a hand against “the only person who even loves you, Y/N!” ever again.

[captainsophiestark]

Naval Wedding

Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Top Gun

Summary: Phoenix needs a fake date to a Naval wedding to avoid sailors hitting on her all night, so who better to ask than her best friend?

Word Count: 2,925

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"I have a favor to ask you."

I sighed dramatically, making a show of pulling my attention from my laptop to my best friend, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, who sat across the table from me. She held her coffee mug with both hands and stared intently at me. Clearly, whatever she was about to say next had been on her mind for a bit now.

"It's something I need you to help me out with, if you don't mind. And if you're not busy."

I raised an eyebrow, closing my laptop and leaning across the table to match Natasha's posture.

"Okay, spit it out, Nat. You've never danced around something the way you're doing right now the entire time I've known you. What's wrong?"

Nat took a deep breath and squared her shoulders, then met my eyes with a new determination.

"I need you to be my fake date for a Navy wedding next weekend."

Honestly, I wasn't sure what I'd been expecting her to say, but it definitely wasn't that. The corner of my mouth quirked up in a smile, and I had to work to hold back a laugh.

"Nat... first of all, I'm in." Her shoulders immediately relaxed, the dire look on her face morphing into one of relief as she eaased back in her chair. I shook my head, still smiling. "Second, you seriously need to work on your delivery. I thougth you were about to ask me to help you hide a body."

Her eyebrow shot up.

"You thought I prefaced asking you to hide a body with 'if you don't mind' and 'if you're free'?"

I just shrugged and waved her off. "You were crazy grim and looked more stressed than I've ever seen you. I didn't think the favor was gonig to involve a party. Which brings me to third: why? I'm happy to go with you, but I'm a little surprised you're asking."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "You know I work with a lot of men. Most of them are fine. Some of them are great. Some of them I want to punch in the nose sometimes. But at big Navy weddings, there's always tons of pilots I'm not familiar with, and at least a few of them always try to hit on me. This time, I don't want to deal with it. So... fake date."

I grinned. "Natasha Trace. Are you telling me that I get to scare off Naval Aviators all night if they try to hit on my girlfriend?"

Natasha grinned and shook her head with a laugh. I waited until she faced me again, then raised an eyebrow since she still hadn't answered my question.

"Alright, sure. You get to scare off anybody who flirts with me, any way you want to."

"Amazing."

****************

The next weekend, I stood in front of the mirror adjusting my outfit nervously while I waited for Natasha to arrive. We were meeting at my house, then driving over together.

When I'd told her I'd be happy to go as her fake date to this wedding, it had been a partial lie. I'd been wrestling with some feelings for my best friend since a few months ago, and I wasn't completely thrilled about the "fake" part of "fake date". When my doorbell finally rang and I opened the door to find Natasha looking like an absolute knockout, my heart did a few backflips before breaking in half as I remembered that she wasn't actually here for a real date.

"Wow," she said, sounding a little breathier than normal as she looked me up and down. "You look great."

"Me? Nat, you look stunning. Like, wow."

Nat looked up and met my eyes with a smile.

"Well, then I guess we make a good pair."

My heart did another flip, so I took a deep breath and stepped through the door to join Nat on the porch before she could give me a heart attack.

"Those Navy boys won't know what hit 'em," I declared, holding my arm out for Nat. She took it with a grin, and we headed for the car arm in arm. My heart skipped a couple beats at the proximity, and I did my best to tell it to shut up.

It mostly listened throughout the wedding ceremony. When we got to the venue, we got some looks and some raised eyebrows, especially from Natasha's closest Navy friends, who she apparently hadn't told about her plan. I got to ditch Hangman to cross the room and chase off a more tangentally-invited pilot who'd been hitting on Nat, which had been a highlight of the night so far, especially as she leaned into my side and I wrapped an arm around her. Unfortunately, we didn't get to linger, since we had to take our seats for the wedding itself.

It was beautiful, and thankfully, didn't stretch on too long. Before I knew it, we were heading to the reception, throwing a few of Nat's aviator friends in the back of the car to get to the venue hosting the reception. We blasted music, laughed, and I even got up the courage to reach out and take Nat's hand while she drove. She turned to me with a grin and squeezed my hand back, and I tried not to let my imagination run away from me about whether that might mean something.

We pulled into the venue, and Natasha immediately took my hand in hers. I bumped my shoulder into hers, and we shared a grin as we flowed through the doors with the rest of the wedding guests. The music was already blasting, and people were floating around and snacking while we waited for the bride and groom to arrive with the rest of the wedding party. Nat's friends went ahead of us as she stopped, turning to me with a smile.

"Alright, what's first? Food or drinks?"

"Hmm... I know the guests of honor aren't here yet, but what about dance floor?"

She laughed. "Okay, drinks it is. If you actually want to pull me out there, I'm going to need more than just water in my veins."

"I don't think the alcohol actually goes into your veins-"

"You know what I mean! Come on, I'll get you your favorite. On me."

"Isn't it an open bar?"

"And isn't it the thought that counts?"

I laughed, letting Natasha pull me along and through the crowd, trailing after her with a happy smile. When she came to a stop at the bar, tugging me up to stand next to her, I had to fight very hard against the urge to lean in and kiss her, then and there. I swallowed, but managed to get a hold of myself and respond to her instead.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's the thought that counts."

Nat and I ate the snacks and chatted with her close friends while we waited for the couple to arrive, and then for the party to really start. Dinner was delicious, the toasts were sweet, and not long after the last one finished, the dance floor officially opened for business.

I turned to Nat, intending to make good on my answer of what I first wanted to do when we got here, but I found her facing in the other direction as some guy in a suit smiled down at her, one of his hands resting on the back of her chair. I narrowed my eyes.

He didn't notice me, he was too focused on Nat. I knew she was more than capable of telling him to get lost on her own, but I also knew that the main reason she'd asked me to be her date at all tonight was to avoid dealing with clowns like these. I stood and walked around to stand next to him, pushing my way into the spot between him and the table and holding a hand out to Nat.

"Hey, babe," I said, smiling at Nat without sparing a glance for the guy. "You ready to hit the dancefloor?"

She grinned back at me in sync with the guy beside me saying "Babe?" as a clear question directed at me. I turned to face him like I had all the time in the world, keeping a straight face as I met his eyes.

"Yeah. That's generally what I call my girlfriend. You got a comment about that?"

The guy blanched, taking a half step back and removing his arm from the back of Natasha's chair.

"Uh... no. Sorry."

"Don't apologize to me, she's the one who had to put up with some random guy trying to put moves on her."

The guy scowled, but he muttered a quick apology to Natasha all the same before heading off into the crowd again. I watched him go, then turned to Nat with the massive grin I'd been holding back the whole time.

She shook her head, mirroring my grin all the same.

"You have way too much fun doing that."

I shrugged. "Maybe. But you don't have any fun doing it for yourself, so this seems like by far the best option."

"I guess I can't argue with you there."

"You're right, you can't. Now come on, I want to dance with my girlfriend. Let's get out there."

My heart hammered in my chest at my own words, worried that I'd overstepped, even in the context of a group in public for our fake-date situation. But Natasha just smiled at me again, softer this time, and took my hand.

"Fine. I guess I'm tipsy enough for this. Barely."

I laughed, pulling her out onto the dancefloor behind me. Tipsy or not, I usually enjoyed making a fool of myself on the dancefloor, and it turned out to be even better with Nat's hand in mine, the two of us spinning in and out of each other's arms.

The rest of the wedding party disappeared as we lost ourselves in the music, just the two of us, breathing hard between laughs and holding each other tightly. Eventually, the music wound down from the high-energy stuff we'd been listening to, shifting to something made for slow dancing. We stuttered to a stop on the floor as couples flocked in all around us, and I looked at Nat.

She shrugged, stepping closer to me and putting her hands on my waist.

"We're supposed to be a couple too, right?"

I grinned back at her. "Damn right."

I laid my arms across Nat's shoulders and the two of us swayed back and forth on the dancefloor, the low lights sweeping over us as we moved. I couldn't take my eyes off of her, and the corner of her mouth lifted up like she'd noticed. Slowly, she leaned in, and my heart just about stopped in my chest. She rested her forehead against mine, and I sighed, half content to stay here like this with her as long as she wanted, half disappointed she hadn't been going in for a kiss.

When the music of the slow dance faded, we just stayed where we were for a long moment before finally pulling away from each other. I opened my mouth to say something, although I wasn't totally sure what yet, but before either of us got the chance to speak the music picked up again, and her closer aviator friends swarmed us on the dancefloor.

"I can't believe you got Phoenix out to dance!" called Fanboy, grinning as he threw one arm over her shoulder, jumping up and down to the beat. Natasha tried to duck his arm, presumably to ditch the dancefloor, but Fanboy knew her well enough that he managed to stop her. I gave them a half-hearted smile, then took the opportunity myself to slip away from the crowd.

I knew Nat probably would've wanted me making up a girlfriend excuse to get her out of there. Normally I would've helped her, but that moment on the dancefloor before her friends showed up had felt so real, and I needed to take a moment to remind myself that it wasn't.

I ducked and weaved through the crowd with relative ease, since only Nat's close friends would've recognized me and they were all out on the dancefloor. I made my way to the bar, not even ordering, just leaning against it for a second. Enough other people hovered around that it'd be hard to spot me amongst the crowd, but I could still see Nat out on the dancefloor, laughing and smiling even as she shook her head and tried to tell her friends to get lost.

I was in love with her. Her attitude, confidence, strength, wit. The way she smiled at me when I said something funny or called Hangman "Bagman" even though I barely knew him and had no reason (other than loyalty to Nat) to use the nickname. I was in love with her, and I had been for a long time, but after tonight, I wasn't going to be able to ignore it anymore. This night had been a mistake.

"Hey! You want a drink?"

I reluctantly turned to face the person shouting in my ear only to find Rooster, one of Natasha's best friends, leaning over to talk to me, his shirt unbuttoned and his tie around his head.

"Uh... that's okay," I said. "I think I'm good."

"You sure? You made me a lot of money tonight!"

I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow at him, but he was drunk enough that he didn't get the hint. He turned and quickly snagged two bottles of beer from the bartender, who had to explain to Rooster that it was an open bar and he didn't need to pay, before Rooster finally turned back to me with a grin.

"Want one of these?"

"No," I said, gently pushing aside the bottle he offered me as I took a step forward. "Rooster, what do you mean I made you a lot of money tonight?"

"Technically you and Phoenix! Everybody kept betting that you guys weren't going to figure out your shit for another month at least, but I had faith-"

"Bradley, what the hell are you talking about?"

"You guys!" he said, motioning emphatically with the beers in his hands between me and the dancefloor, where Nat had been cajoled into enjoying at least one song. "Finally getting together! After hearing her wax poetic about how great you are since the day you guys met, we started taking bets on when she'd finally do something about it. And I won! So, thanks!"

"Hold on..." I reached out, taking Rooster's arm to steady myself. The room had started spinning around me, and it had nothing to do with alcohol. "Roos, what are you saying? What do you mean, Nat's been talking about me since the day we met?"

"Ah, I probably shouldn't have told you," he said, shaking his head and at last lowering his voice to normal volume, although it was still far from a whisper. "But it's probably fine now, since you're dating. God, she used to drive us all crazy talking about how great you were and how much of a thing she had for you. It's probably gonna get worse now though, since you guys finally admitted you were pining after each other- Hey, where are you going?"

I ignored Rooster as I headed back to the dance floor, a buzzing in my brain as his words echoed. He was clearly drunk, but if anything, that made me more confident that what he'd told me was the truth. The whole time I'd been driving myself crazy trying not to admit feelings for one of my best friends, she'd been doing the same thing.

Before I knew it, I stood in front of Natasha again. The music still thumped, people laughing and jumping and twirling all around us, but I barely noticed. Nat stood to one side of Fanboy, with Bob on his other side, the two of them holding him up as he attempted to drag them both into a dance, so it took Nat a minute to notice me. But once she did, she straightened up.

"Hey, are you okay?"

I nodded, taking a step closer to her.

"Rooster spilled his guts. You like me. For real."

Shock registered on her face, then straight rage as she whipped her head around to look for Rooster. I just grinned, pushing Fanboy's arm off her as I closed the rest of the distance between us.

"Nat. I like you, too. For real."

She whipped her head back around so quickly that she almost broke my nose. Her wide eyes searched mine, one eyebrow raised.

"Are you kidding?"

"Hell no I'm not kidding. Nat... can I kiss you?"

She grinned, any trace of trepidation or irritation melting away all at once.

"Hell yeah you can."

I grinned back, letting my hand come up to the back of her neck as I leaned in and finally, finally kissed Natasha. She wrapped an arm tightly around my waist, pulling me closer to her as we deepened the kiss. Some cheers and whoops from her friends snapped us both out of it enough to finally pull away, both of us smiling delirious-looking smiles.

"I'm so glad you asked me to be your date to this, Nat," I breathed, letting my arms fall to rest on her shoulders. Her hands came onto my waist, her smile turning into more of a grin.

"Me too. Although, I am looking forward to an opportunity for a real date, without my idiot friends in range or any other people trying to hit on me."

"Sounds great. How about... tomorrow night?"

Nat threw her head back and laughed, but when she met my eyes again and saw me looking as serious as ever, she grinned again.

"Alright. Tomorrow night it is."

"I can't wait."

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

Top Gun Taglist: @elenavampire21

[stylesonfilms]

ink & innocence - 5

word count: 4.7k

hey lovies! thank you for the support already shown on this story. i'll try to pick up the pace soon, i don't plan on making it too much of a slow burn. feel free to send messages on plot ideas, i'd love to incorporate what the people want. thanks again, enjoy!!

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

Harry fell onto his back, huffing air out. His eyes closed shut as he swallowed the thick air around them. They only unscrewed once Kirsten's voice rang through. "That was... wow," she laughed and turned her head to look over at Harry. 

He swallowed again and turned his head to look over at her. "Yeah," He breathed, pushing himself up off the bed. His back felt sticky, a warm hot flashing over before the cold wind from the night whisked into his room and collided with their skin. "Let me just, uh," Harry pointed to the bathroom, signaling he was going to go clean up and bring her a towel as well. 

The man's feet carried him to the cold tile of his restroom where the door clicked shut behind him. Leaning on the counter, he looked up to find his wild gaze looking right back at him. Normally, this routine wasn't anything out of the ordinary for Harry. He would hook up with women, clean them up, and off they go. What he didn't anticipate was the lingering feeling of guilt that came after, which flooded his chest. Even if he was nothing to Aspen and vice versa, that was her friend he had just slept with after ignoring her in her own home. He shook the thought out of his head as if it were too loud and leaking sound while suds formed between his scrubbing hands. 

The cold water of the tap absorbed into the rag in his hands so he could wring out the material and wipe the sweat off his chest and neck. Sure, his night with Kirsten was good. Probably leaning on one of the better times as of recent. He could only hope his neighbors would forgive him for the stereotypical headboard banging against the wall.

A heavy sigh floated past his lips after he slipped a shirt over his muscular frame to go with his now clothed bottom half. He grabbed a fresh towel to bring back to Kirsten, squeezing out the excess water.

Harry leaned against the doorframe, holding the towel loosely in his hands as he took in the sight of Kirsten pulling on her boots. The dim light from the nightstand lamp cast a soft glow over her face, accentuating the faint smirk she wore as she brushed her hair back into place. Her confidence was palpable, a trait that had drawn him in earlier, but now it only amplified the strange hollowness settling in his chest.

"I didn't realize you'd be grabbing me one, too," she said with a laugh, gesturing toward the towel he held. "I'm just so used to, well, you know." She gave a small shrug, her tone light, casual, as if she were discussing something as mundane as the weather. "Tonight was fun. Really fun."

Harry gave a tight nod, his lips pressing into a thin line. He wasn't one for pillow talk, and Kirsten's carefree attitude made it clear she wasn't expecting it either. Still, there was something about the way she spoke that made him feel like a cog in some larger, predictable machine—a pattern he didn't particularly enjoy repeating tonight.

"Yeah," he said simply, his voice low. He stepped forward, placing the towel neatly on the bed beside her before retreating slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. The air between them was oddly charged, a mix of satisfaction and finality that didn't sit well with him.

Kirsten stood, adjusting her jacket before slinging her bag over her shoulder. "You're quiet, aren't you?" she teased, her tone playful as she moved toward the door.

"Depends on the company," Harry replied coolly, reiterating something along the lines of what he said earlier into the night, his voice even but distant. He didn't mean it as a jab, but it came out sharper than he intended.

Kirsten paused, raising an eyebrow as she looked back at him. For a moment, her confident façade faltered, her expression softening just slightly. "Well, you were good company tonight. Even if you won't admit it," she said with a grin, turning the doorknob. "See you around, Styles."

The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Harry alone in the dimly lit room. He ran a hand through his curls, letting out a heavy breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. The silence felt heavier now, pressing against his chest as he sat on the edge of the bed.

The faint scent of Kirsten's perfume lingered in the air, mixing with the musk of sweat and the crisp night breeze filtering through the open window. His gaze fell to the towel on the bed, the one she hadn't needed, and the guilt that had been gnawing at the edges of his mind finally spilled over.

Aspen's face flashed in his mind unbidden, the soft smile she'd worn when she greeted Isobel earlier in the night, the way her voice had wavered when she muttered her quiet hello. She'd seemed so small, so out of place, like she didn't quite belong in her own home with him there. Harry's jaw tightened as he thought of the way she'd disappeared down the hall, her excuse rushed and shaky.

And now, he'd just slept with her friend.

It wasn't like he owed her anything, Harry reminded himself, rubbing a hand over his face. He barely knew Aspen, and she barely knew him. But that didn't stop the uncomfortable twist in his gut, the nagging feeling that he'd crossed some invisible line.

He grabbed the beer bottle from his nightstand, the condensation slick against his fingers as he took a long swig. The alcohol burned down his throat, dulling the edges of his thoughts but failing to erase them entirely. He skimmed around the sex-musked room and his eyes locked on the black lace peeking out on the floor at the end of his bed. 

"Shit," he mumbled with a groan. 

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Meanwhile, Aspen lay awake in her room, her eyes fixed on the ceiling as she tried to will herself to sleep. She could still hear faint murmurs of conversation from the living room, the occasional burst of laughter filtering through the walls. She wondered if Kirsten was still there, if Harry was still there.

Her stomach twisted at the thought of them together, though she didn't understand why. It wasn't like she and Harry were friends. He'd made it clear he didn't think much of her, and she'd done her best to brush off his cold demeanor. Still, the idea of him and Kirsten sitting so close, laughing and talking like they were the only two people in the room, sent a pang of something she couldn't quite name through her chest.

She turned onto her side, clutching her pillow tightly. You're being ridiculous, she told herself firmly. Harry was just a guy. A guy who had barely spared her a second glance.

But the thought of seeing him, or worse, seeing him with Kirsten, made her stomach churn.

In the stillness of her room, Aspen closed her eyes and tried to focus on her breathing, the soft rise and fall of her chest. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the feeling that things had shifted tonight, though she couldn't say exactly how.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The next morning came just as fast as it went. A trend of feeling that seemed to happen a lot lately, Aspen noted. Her body tossed itself in its half asleep state to her left side, jumping back a bit when she saw the mess of blonde hair. She sighed and closed her eyes, tucking herself in a ball under the covers. Isobel must have climbed into bed with her after Zayn went home, feeling bad about what Aspen came home to. 

Isobel followed with a groan, turning to her right side to now face Aspen who looked sound asleep but was very much awake. Her roommate knew her too well, once Aspen was awake, she was awake for good. There was no going back to bed for her. It was a pain in the ass sometimes, though. 

"Morning, sunshine," Isobel spoke up, the sleep heavy in her voice. She laughed at the sound of her grunting voice. The sound bounced off the walls of Aspens bedroom. In response, the girl only hummed and peeked her eyes open to look at her blonde haired friend. Eventually, her arms slid out the covers to stretch her limbs. "Good morning, Iz. Welcome to my bed," Aspen squeaked, shriveling back into the warmth of her comforter. 

Their breaths filled the air along with the small whistle of wind that creeped through the cracked window. They both laid on their backs now, staring at the ceiling that Aspen decorated with simple strings of fairy lights, which were currently off. She only turned them on when she spent days or nights cuddled in bed with a book or a movie. It added to the ambience, Aspen would always tell Isobel after forcing her to set them up for her. 

"I didn't know Harry was going to come," Isobel started, guilt swallowing her voice. She would have never let him in if she had known, but of course she didn't want to be rude and slam the door after Zayn. She would next time, she promised herself. 

Aspen stayed quiet with her eyes on the lights as they suddenly became interesting enough to individually count the micro bulbs. 

"I'm sorry, Asp." 

It was then that she looked over at Isobel with a forgiving look. "It's okay, I know. Plus," she shrugged and looked back to the ceiling, "it's not a big deal. We spoke what, once? He was bored of his friends and you were with Zayn and no one else seemed to be alone besides me—," Aspen sucked in a breath. Trying to change the topic, she surfaced the idea of taking that camping get away soon. 

They were finally on break and Isobel would drag Zayn along, to be the manly man, as well as Kirsten and maybe another friend from class. They kept their group small and quiet, and Aspen wasn't much for socializing anyways. It was a good time for them to get out of the apartment anyways. Aspen figured some time out in nature would be good. 

"What if we went this week? We could leave on Sunday, and head back Thursday morning. It shouldn't be too hard to find an RV to take out there. We'd sleep in tents, duh," Isobel rolled over to her side and propped on her elbow, "but we can drive it there. Well, Zayn can. You and I, we'll take on keeping the group alive with food. How's that sound?" 

Aspen cracked a smile. It did sound nice. She could read, possibly finish the one she was on now and start up another. And she could read by the lake! Something about the quiet sounds mixed with the flow of running water and just nature brought her peace. She didn't mind cooking, either. It was something she liked to do for herself and Isobel anyways, and it shouldn't be hard to keep three women and a man alive for that short time. 

"Yeah, that sounds nice," Her voice came out soft. "I'll just have to let Marion know, but I think it sounds nice," she said again.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Across town, Harry sat hunched over the work computer at the shop, his brow furrowed as he scrolled through the calendar of bookings. For the first time in what felt like months, his personal schedule was wide open for the coming week. It seemed like everyone was slowing down for the holidays. Even Niall, who typically had back-to-back clients, only had a few appointments scheduled.

Harry closed the calendar tab with a click, leaning back in the chair. He stretched his arms over his head, the ink on his forearms catching the dull light of the shop. “Zayn, you’ve got a two-thirty coming in,” he called over his shoulder, his voice gruff.

Zayn, who was cleaning his equipment nearby, gave a thumbs-up. “Got it. You okay, mate? You’ve been quiet all morning.”

Harry grunted in response, not bothering to elaborate. His mind had been on a frustrating loop since last night. He wasn’t sure what irritated him more-- the nagging guilt over sleeping with Kirsten or the fact that Aspen’s face had been haunting his thoughts ever since. She was shy, reserved, almost invisible most of the time, yet she’d managed to crawl under his skin in a way he couldn’t shake. How could one simple conversation in one night mess him up this bad?

Zayn watched Harry carefully, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You sure? You’ve got that ‘brooding asshole’ look going strong today,” he teased.

Harry shot him a glare, though it lacked his usual bite. “Piss off, Z.”

Zayn laughed, shaking his head as he went back to his prep. “Alright, man, but if you wanna talk about whatever—or whoever—is eating at you, I’m here.”

Harry didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed his sketchbook and sank into the leather chair by the window, letting the sound of the shop fade into the background as he stared out at the street. The thought of disappearing for a few days—getting out of town and away from the mess in his head— sounded better by the minute.

The buzzing of a tattoo gun filled the shop, a familiar background noise that usually put Harry at ease. Today, though, it only made his shoulders feel tighter. He sat in the corner by the window, sketchbook balanced on his knee as he absently doodled. His mind wasn’t on the designs, though—it kept flickering back to last night. Specifically, to Kirsten, her easy laugh, and the way her inked skin had felt under his fingertips. And then, inevitably, his thoughts veered to Aspen—her quiet presence at the party and the way she’d all but fled the moment she’d seen him with Kirsten.

“You’re in a mood,” Zayn announced, his voice cutting through the noise. He leaned against the doorway to the back room, arms crossed, a knowing grin on his face. “More than usual, I mean.”

Harry didn’t look up from his sketchbook. “What do you want, Zayn?”

Zayn ignored the gruffness in his tone and sauntered over, plopping down on the couch across from him. “Nothing. Just wondering what—or who—has you looking like you’ve been chewing on nails all morning.”

Harry’s pencil paused mid-sketch, his grip tightening slightly. “Not in the mood, mate.”

“Not in the mood? Come on, Harry. You’re the one who had a bit of fun last night,” Zayn said, his grin widening. “Kirsten seemed... pleased. You two looked cozy.”

Harry’s jaw tensed as he flipped the page in his sketchbook, pretending to focus on a new design. “Drop it.”

But Zayn wasn’t one to let things go, especially when he sensed there was more to the story. “What’s the problem? She’s hot, clearly into you, and it’s not like you’re the commitment type.”

Harry finally glanced up, his green eyes narrowing in warning. “I said drop it.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Zayn held up his hands, feigning surrender. “No need to get your knickers in a twist. Just saying, it’s not like anyone’s keeping score. Unless...” His smirk returned, devilish now. “You’re not thinking about Aspen, are you?”

The way Harry’s jaw clenched gave him away, even as he remained silent.

Zayn let out a low whistle. “Holy shit. You are, aren’t you?” He leaned back, clearly enjoying himself. “That’s what this is about. You’ve got a thing for Aspen.”

“I don’t have a thing for anyone,” Harry snapped, his voice low but sharp enough to slice through the noise of the shop.

At that moment, Niall popped his head in from the back, a mischievous grin already in place. “What’s this about Aspen?”

Zayn immediately gestured for Niall to join them. “Oh, you’re gonna want to hear this. Our boy Harry’s all tangled up because he slept with Kirsten but can’t stop thinking about her shy little roommate.”

Harry groaned, running a hand through his curls as Niall grabbed a chair and sat down, laughing. “Kirsten and Harry, huh? Didn’t see that coming. Thought you’d sworn off dating anyone remotely connected to your social circle, mate.”

“It’s not dating,” Harry growled.

“Right, right. Just some fun,” Niall teased, winking. “So, what’s the issue, then? Kirsten’s gorgeous, and Aspen...” He trailed off, glancing at Harry with a sly grin. “She’s not your usual type, but I get it. There’s something about her, huh? Quiet ones are always full of surprises.”

“Both of you can piss off,” Harry muttered, closing his sketchbook with more force than necessary.

Zayn and Niall exchanged amused glances before Zayn pressed on. “Seriously, though. What’s the deal? You’ve barely said two words to Aspen since the party, and now you’re brooding like you’ve got a guilty conscience. What’s going on in that curly head of yours?”

Harry leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his gaze fixed on the floor. He hesitated, the words heavy on his tongue. Finally, he muttered, “It’s not guilt.”

“Then what is it?” Niall asked, genuinely curious now.

Harry’s head snapped up, his green eyes darkening as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. The sharp shift in his posture was like a physical barrier, warning them not to push further. His jaw tightened, and his lips curled into a dismissive smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Are you two serious?” he scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. “Aspen? She’s dull as hell. Barely says two words in a room and looks like she’d rather be anywhere else when people are around. Boring doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Zayn and Niall blinked, their surprise at Harry’s sudden venom showing plainly on their faces.

“And Kirsten?” Harry continued, his tone biting as he picked up his pencil again, spinning it idly between his fingers. “Now that’s a woman. Confident, funny, knows how to hold a conversation. Not to mention she’s actually hot. Inked up and everything. You think I’d waste time on someone like Aspen when I could have that?” He scoffed again, shaking his head. “Please.”

Zayn frowned, exchanging a glance with Niall. “Jesus, mate. That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

“Harsh?” Harry let out a humorless laugh, tapping his pencil on the sketchbook. “You’re the ones acting like I’ve got some secret crush on her. I’m just setting the record straight.”

But even as the words left his mouth, Harry’s chest tightened. He knew he sounded cruel— he’d meant to sound cruel. It was the only way to shut them up, to throw them off the scent of whatever confusing mess was brewing inside him. The truth was, every insult felt like a lie he was spitting through gritted teeth. Aspen wasn’t boring; she was thoughtful and observant, noticing things others missed. She wasn’t plain; her quiet confidence was magnetic in ways he couldn’t explain.

He pushed those thoughts down, hard, shoving them into a corner of his mind where they couldn’t fester. He needed Zayn and Niall to buy this version of him, the version that didn’t care, that didn’t even see Aspen.

Niall narrowed his eyes, studying him with more suspicion than Harry liked. “Funny, considering you barely took your eyes off her at the party.”

Harry rolled his eyes dramatically, leaning forward and grabbing his sketchbook to scribble something random. “I wasn’t looking at her, you idiot. I was just bored out of my mind. Not much else to focus on when the rest of you are busy playing happy couples.”

“Uh-huh,” Zayn said, unconvinced.

“Believe whatever you want,” Harry muttered, waving them off dismissively. “I don’t care.”

But he did care. Every word he’d said felt like a betrayal, not just to Aspen but to himself. Still, he buried the guilt, keeping his expression carefully blank as he returned to his sketch.

“Fine,” Zayn finally said, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. “If you say you’re not into her, I’ll drop it. But don’t expect us to believe you when you’re acting this defensive.”

Harry didn’t respond, focusing intently on the sketchbook as if the world around him had ceased to exist.

Niall snorted as he followed Zayn toward the back. “For a guy who doesn’t care, you’re awfully prickly about it.”

As their voices faded, Harry let out a long breath, his pencil still in hand. He stared blankly at the page, the lines he’d been drawing turning into nothing more than aimless scribbles.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath, raking a hand through his curls. Lying about Aspen hadn’t just gotten them off his back— it had left him feeling worse. But he’d deal with that later. Right now, the only thing he could do was keep up the façade.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

It was a couple of hours later when Harry found himself at Zayn’s house, lounging in the kitchen while Zayn leaned against the counter, his phone pressed to his ear. Harry had come over because there wasn’t much else to do. The shop had been slow, and his own apartment felt too quiet, his thoughts dangerously close to places he didn’t want to revisit. Being around Zayn wasn’t ideal, but it was better than being alone with his own mind.

Zayn’s voice was light and teasing as he spoke to Isobel, pacing the kitchen in socked feet. Harry half-listened while he rummaged through the cabinets, searching for something edible. Zayn never kept anything decent stocked; it was always random snacks or leftovers that had been in the fridge long past their prime.

"Yeah, sounds like a good idea. Honestly, it’ll be nice to get out for a bit," Zayn said into the phone, his tone dripping with the kind of affection that Harry couldn’t help but find mildly irritating. “Yeah, Kirsten said she’s in. Oh, and Niall—wait, hang on, let me ask him.”

Harry glanced over his shoulder at Zayn, raising a skeptical brow. “Niall can’t go,” he muttered, pulling open another cabinet. “He’s got appointments during the dates you’re planning. Told him myself this morning.”

Zayn paused, his brow furrowing as he digested that information. “Oh, yeah, right. I forgot. Thanks, mate.” He returned his attention to the phone. “Isobel, scratch Niall. He’s booked solid that week. But hey, I can bring Harry.”

At Zayn’s words, Harry froze. His hand, which had been reaching for a box of stale-looking crackers, hovered mid-air. He turned slowly, fixing Zayn with a glare that could have set the room on fire.

“Absolutely not,” Harry said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Zayn, ever the optimist when it came to wearing people down, ignored him. “Yeah, he’s free all week. It’d be good for him to get out. He’s been a right grump lately.”

“I said no,” Harry repeated, his voice louder this time. He slammed the cabinet shut for emphasis, the sound making Zayn wince slightly.

Isobel’s laugh was light but hesitant as it floated through the phone. “Actually, Zayn… I don’t know if that’s such a great idea. You know how Aspen feels. It might be… uncomfortable for her, especially with everything that’s happened.”

Zayn paused for a beat, glancing at Harry, who was rifling through the fridge with an irritated expression. His grin didn’t falter, though, as he leaned against the counter. “Aspen’s fine,” he said breezily, dismissing Isobel’s concern as if it were a passing thought. “She’s a grown woman. It’s not like Harry’s gonna be glued to her side the whole trip.”

Isobel sighed audibly on the other end. “I’m serious, Zayn. If he’s there, she might—”

“Babe,” Zayn cut her off with a playful tone, “you’re overthinking it. It’ll be fine. More than fine, actually. The more the merrier, right? Don’t stress, love. I’ll handle it.” Without waiting for her to protest further, Zayn quickly changed the subject. “Anyway, I’ll bring the beer. Do we need more marshmallows for the campfire?”

Isobel exhaled sharply, clearly not convinced, but she let it go with a muttered, “You’re impossible.”

“Love you too,” Zayn said cheekily before ending the call and shoving his phone into his pocket. Turning to Harry, he adopted the same easy grin.

“Good news, mate. Isobel says the more the merrier. You’re officially invited.”

Harry turned away from the fridge, a scowl tugging at his lips as he stared Zayn down. “I already told you, I’m not going.”

Zayn ignored his tone entirely, moving to grab a bag of chips from the pantry. “Come on, man. Campfires, hiking, fishing, a couple of beers by the lake… It’ll do you some good to get out. And it’s not like you have anything better to do.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. He wasn't necessarily wrong, but he knew the pang of guilt would only nestle itself further, especially after what he said earlier in the shop. “Hard no,” he said flatly, though there was a flicker of doubt in his tone.

Zayn shrugged, popping a chip into his mouth. “Suit yourself. Just don’t come crying to me when you’re stuck in your cave all week, miserable as always.”

Harry didn’t bother responding, his jaw tightening as he turned his attention back to the fridge. Zayn might have brushed it off, but Harry couldn’t shake the unease that crept into his chest. If Zayn’s nonchalant attitude was an act, it wasn’t a very good one.

The thought of being near Aspen, even with a group of people, left him on edge. He didn’t want to admit how much she lingered in the back of his mind, how her absence in a room felt louder than anyone else’s presence. But the idea of facing her—and whatever awkwardness or tension would inevitably follow—was enough to make his stomach turn.

Still, as Zayn rambled on about tents and supplies, Harry couldn’t help but wonder if there was some part of him that didn’t want to say no. Some part that wanted to see her, even if it was only from a distance. 

Harry's mind traced back to his empty week. Niall had a busy week outside of work, so he couldn't bother him. Harry did well alone. It wasn't like he needed the company of other people, it was just the lingering thought of a retreat. Plus, he heard Zayn mutter back and forth with Isobel on the phone, a conversation long drowned into the background noise of Harrys thoughts, about Kirsten going. Their night at Isobel's wasn't so bad, she wasn't that hard to talk to. Especially with alcohol involved, Harry was sure he would slouch a bit into conversation.

Plus, it wasn't like the chances of seeing Aspen were high, anyways. He would climb into the passenger seat, assuming the girls would be in the back, and accompany Zayn in front of the curtain. And when they would arrive, he'd make his way to a far corner with his tent and keep to himself and his journal. His heavy shoulders slouched while his green eyes flickered back to Zayn; who was still on the phone. 

Surely, it couldn't be that bad. Harry would keep to Harry and Aspen would keep to Aspen and, well, her books. 

"I'll go."

"What?" Zayn grinned, a smug one at that. He knew that Harry would give in. The man always cooped himself in his own space and his apartment surely wasn't that nice. He could do the same, just by the campfire. Plus, Zayn didn't want to be the only guy there. His fear of snakes and ground critters ran deep in his bones and Harry... well. Harry was sure to do a good ole' neck stomp and carry on about his day.

"You heard me," Harry gruffed. "If I have to say it again, I'm not going. Piss off."

"Harry, this is my ho--."

"I said piss off," He grumbled again, the front door slamming shut as he left.

It wouldn't be so bad. It couldn't be so bad. Harry's phone chimed only two minutes later.

Zayn: Vas happeninnnn!!

Harry rolled his eyes, not answering. So when Harry's response didn't come through for a few seconds, another text chimed on his phone. 

Zayn: Vodka or tequila ? Running 2 the store soon we leave tomorrow morning

Zayn: 9 am meet here

What a stupid question. Weren't they supposed to be friends? As if it was on cue with the curly headed mans thoughts, Zayn texted again.

Zayn: Nvm , gunna grab both Lol!

Harry rubbed a hand over his face with his eyes closed, head leaned back into the seat of his car. A heavy sigh escaped his lips. Guess he should get to packing.

[aechii]

₍⁠₍ ONE OF US (2) ₎⁠₎

{read part 1 here}

PAiRiNG ?! kylian x black!femreader

GENRE ?! romance, fluff (😞)

SYNOPSiS ?! it's kylian's wedding day, and he knows it never gets better than this

C/W ?! she/her pronouns used, just fluff and romance and a tad bit of swearing cos it's me writing?!?!?!?

A/N ?! the all anticipated sequel to one of us!! man, i've hit a writer's block and idk what's going on with my writing but i'm trying to get rid of it so that's that. i would like to dedicate this to @blubffsd (who has unfortunately left tumblr, but i will always hold them dear to my heart). they've asked for this many a time, and it sucks that i released it after they departed from this hellsite. wherever you are blub, i hope you're happy!

enjoy all my wonderful consumers readers :)

“are you ready?”

the voice comes from behind kylian, but his attention remains on the mirror before him. [y/n] had chosen the suit for him, said that the colour suited him, and as he scrutinises himself, he can’t help but wonder what she looks like in her dress. it elevates his heartbeat and he has to huff out a heavy sigh to wash away the light-headedness.

“kylian?”

background noise seeps into his ears once again, and the loud seems to come with more clarity, and concern. his head turns, seeing his brother in the same style suit as him, but rather in a dark shade of blue. 

“you good?”

he faces the mirror, scans himself as his body begins to feel hot and the tie around his neck seems to tighten its hold. kylian slowly shakes his head, exhaling, “i’m so fucking nervous.”

ethan chuckles, landing a hand on his brother’s shoulder as he moves to stand beside him. kylian watches him and is succumbed by a thick wave of wistfulness; his brother succeeds his height, shoulders barely touching and his mind can’t fathom how time has flown past them. 

he still can’t believe he’s getting married today. 

“wedding nerves– it’s normal, bro,” ethan tells him, and kylian snickers in retort. 

“since when did you know so much about weddings?”

“well,” ethan slides his hands into his pockets, rocking on his feet, “when you have two siblings who are married- or getting married- you learn a lot of things.”

kylian nods understandingly, and trickles out a sigh for the umpteenth time.

“you’ll be fine, kylian,” ethan comforts, “[y/n] loves you more than i’ve ever seen anyone love someone- truth be told, you’re lucky.”

kylian can’t deny that. [y/n]’s presence in his life has changed him in a way that’s gratifying, and without her, it’s hard to visualise how he would cope. a love story that they would call, truthfully, unintentional, but undeniably destined. 

“i am, aren’t i?”

ethan doesn’t hesitate to nod profusely, “yeah, you are.”

their father calls them from the door as he enters. his forehead is sheened with sweat and sounds of bustling chatter from the living room bleeds inside then muffles again as he shuts himself in. 

wilfried smiles, finds it hard to withstand the unrelenting tears as he sees his son clad in the crisp, black suit. it wasn’t long ago, in his mind, that kylian played his first ever football match, reaching no more than his knees. and as much as his status quo gets now, he’s about to marry the girl who he could never have approved more of.

“you look- wow,” kylian’s father softly grips his son’s arms before smoothing out an odd crease drawn into his coat. 

“you’ll make me cry, papa, stop,” kylian humours out and wilfried joins him in laughter. 

“it’s just- i can’t believe you’re getting married already.”

“me too,” kylian adjusts his tie, but his father slaps his hand away. “i just cleaned up your shirt, don’t ruin it again.”

his son smiles, albeit wobbly, “sorry, papa.”

wilfried stretches out his arm, twisting it to check the watch circling his wrist.

“it’s nearly time. just about 10 minutes ‘til we have to leave.”

kylian feels a soft tremble oscillate through his skin and he fans himself as if it does anything. his father watches him as he does so, grinning.

“you remind me of how i was,” wilfried recounts, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “almost had a panic attack before we left.”

kylian looks at him, mildly intrigued, “really?”

“the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, kylian,” ethan jokes as he claps his brother on the shoulder, and it makes kylian shake his head, smiling. 

“it’s normal, ethan,” their father corrects, “it’ll be you soon.”

kylian turns to ethan, whose eyes trace elsewhere as he begins to blush. he chuckles at the sight, poking his brother’s cheek.

“don’t be shy now,” kylian says as he smirks and ethan fights back his own grin, nudging his brother’s touch away. 

wilfried watches on and his heart feels heavy in his chest. just one son left. he can’t believe it. 

he retains himself from getting overly emotional, ascending from his seat, “we should get going now. your mum will be angry if we don’t get there on time, you know her.”

kylian and ethan emit sounds of agreement, walking to the door. ethan exits first, and kylian stays behind trying to gather as much composure as he can.

“i’m proud of you, kylian,” his father voices, and it bleeds so much joy and pride that kylian begins to feel choked up. 

“thank you, papa,” kylian shakily expresses. he attempts to shake off the nerves, yet it proves to be fruitless, again. 

“god- i feel like i’m about to pass out.”

“it’s all normal, kylian. you’ll be fine, i can assure you.”

“i know, but,” he pauses, shutting his eyes for a few seconds, “i don’t think i’ll survive seeing [y/n] in her dress.”

wilfried grins so widely, he feels his cheek muscles ache. like father, like son.

“believe me, i know.”

+_-

he’s absolutely trembling. it’s so palpable that one of his groomsmen, brice, has checked on him at least twice now. he had responded with the usual, automated affirmative that he’s fine, but he truly is anything but. it’s been more than 5 minutes since the service was supposed to start, but the bride, his bride, was yet to arrive. 

he glances at his father who looks back at him, and his face doesn’t release his smile. it’s subtle reassurance, and he musters a small smile back just as the hall doors begin to glide open with an old rumble. 

and kylian swears his heart stops. he can’t hear the congregation stand and turn as she proceeds down the aisle. he can’t feel his mind frenzy, even though he knows it does, nor can he feel his hands that will, soon, bear the weight of the unifying ring. his eyes are stuck, stitched to the sight of his to-be wife completely encompassed in an ethereal cloud of white, and for a second, he thinks he’s being visited by an angel from heaven. 

before he knows it, he’s crying. tears of abundant happiness overflow as much as he tries to blink them away but he allows them to because he finds it almost prohibited to look away. ethan stands beside him, handing him a handkerchief, and he’s ever so grateful for his grounding presence right there and then. 

“she’s beautiful. so, so beautiful,” he mutters in tangent. his heart quickens the nearer she gets and he senses ethan bringing a hand to his back. 

then she stands right in front of him. and he stares. stares for what seems like centuries that pass until his brother whispers in his ear, “remove her veil, kylian. i have to go.”

it spurs his movement, shaking him from his reverie, and both hands, vibrating, pinch the sides of the lace, lifting and placing it behind her hair. 

he feels like he’s punched. again.

she smiles so gorgeously at him, and it’s like he’s fallen in love all over again. 

“hi.”

he breathes out slowly, gently interlocking their hands.

“hey.”

the priest begins his welcome and the usual protocol. when he asks the crowd if there were to be any objections, he holds his breath. he’s not aware of anyone being against them, but he knows that it happens more than one could think. silences engulfs the room and the priest, to his relief, breaks it as he proceeds with the service. 

his mind and ears block out everything after that and his gaze never leaves [y/n]’s otherworldly stature. every now and then, he squeezes her hands, just to make sure she’s really here, and she always returns the gesture, as if she reads his mind. 

he’s dazed when a hand comes up to touch his cheek, and his conscience zooms back into the present. 

“you with me, love?”

he nods absentmindedly and the congregation collectively chuckle at him. 

“i think you’ll have to say it again,” [y/n] jokingly tells the priest, and kylian, eyes wide, turns to him.

“i missed the vows?”

“it’s okay, kylian,” he smiles gently, “i’ll read them out again.”

kylian nods, this time, unmasking his ears to hear the words that he knows he’ll agree to wholeheartedly.

“kylian mbappe, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in holy matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

his response is instantaneous, “i do.”

the priest tilts himself towards [y/n], “[y/n] [l/n] do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

“i do.”

kylian feels the tears gather as the priest utters the words he’s been waiting for, for the past 10 months. 

“i now pronounce you mr and mrs mbappe. kylian, you may kiss the bride.”

as their families cheer, holler and cry tears of utmost joy, his lips find his wife’s, both barely able to contain their grins. 

and at the back of kylian’s mind, he envisions a picture of this very moment, framed in gold and mounted upon the wall of his mother’s house.

just like [y/n] had wanted.

[latibulater]

Venture Bros Rewatch notes: Eeney Meeney Miney Magic

I love Rusty's bedroom but do we think that look is a holdover from the last time Jonas remodeled (as it's not dated enough to be 60s when the compound was built) or did Rusty remodel the bedroom as soon as he inherited the master bedroom?

Dean and Hank are playing Ouija is so cute

ENTERING....MR ORPHEUS. He comes OUT of the orphan heart machine (??? why?) and zaps Helper and knocks out Dean and Hank, so Dr. O can disable electronics and also cause instant sleep all with just a single nonverbal look...And his lankiness...his sharp edges...EARLY SEASON ORPHEUS ILU

"His magical Dracula powers" "youre standing there in FLAMES" whoever wrote this scene has a child

"brock is it okay if i cry?" after brock just choked him for waking the bodyguard up too sudden. there is both so much to say yet nothing needs to be said its all there

i can't figure out if you need to go outside to get to orpheus' part of the compound, dean is wearing a jacket over his pjs but no shoes and rusty has his rarely seen bathrobe and slippies

"abandoned arachnid lab" WHAT was GOING ON????

i LOVE the pan-ups for introducing characters

Orpheus was saving Helper........"his feeble mind had perceived what's not possible" this is contributing to my idea that our Helper is like Ben's Helper in that they are uh....not cyborgs exactly but meaty machines

Led zeppelin is pretty much the only music brock listen to during sex

How does Rusty not know Orpheus' name already? He's literally the landlord

"junior college upstate" "fEEL it's evil grip PuUUUUUULL ME BACK IN"

"scuba" "scuba" "scuba"

TRIANA girl of the hour. How is she so well adjusted and normal-acting. I want so badly to see a scene or two of Triana at school. Can she use her magic there? Is she is similar classes as Dermott?

"Single parent eh? Common ground" Rusty is so desperate for a friend as soon as he realizes Orpheus is bit like him he drops all snobbish pretenses

THE QTIP COMMENT. I LAUGH. "a walking reminder of our common shame"

"I saw him kill a guy with sock full of party snaps" okay but then doesn't in the next episode Dean get confused about Brock killing people at all? The whole body bags were sleeping bags bit? More evidence of mind erasure

"I'm kind of home tutored in a box my pop made. it sometimes gets very hot in the box. that my pop made" "wow that's kinda screwy" this is the entire moment of what made Triana hang out with dean and her bemusement tolerance and at the end (before prom) fondness

Brock fixing Helper is soooooooo sexy i wish i could chew on his forearms like a rawhide bone

Hank seeing an endless expanse of nature with Rusty wanting to spend time with him, contrasted then by Brock actually being the one present to get Hank out of the way

"we two doctor dads" LITERALLY RUSTY STOP he's got an instant crush and he is just so thrilled to have someone to hang out with. okay with the message O leaves for Triana who just left for school, but at the end she gets bored waiting for her dad at dinner. they seriously spend all day at rusty's lab?

"dont think i didnt notice the neon appointments" GAY BOYS

Rusty acting like an overly typical irate father, he was so channeling jonas trying to impress the only other single father he's ever met

BROCK WITH THE PULLED BACK HAIR MEOW

"i DARE you to make less sense!"

Orpheus just pulled...a singular cupcake with pink frosting out of an upper cabinet....why do the Ventures live like this. 4 boys and a robot.

okay but the whole kitchen scene is so funny and really contrasting rusty and orpheus' character designs, in s1 orpheus really is all long lines and huge blocky black cloak, compared to rusty's tiny little frame, honestly we need more ...(rustyxorpheus=.....thapheus?) of this. the way rusty asks if he wants another brew "kaey"

hank's impression of their dad is hilarious

"the beast hungers for them...i just dont get how they can get the door open"

Orpheus commands the open "by the crimson name of lord balayseeta(?) i command you to open" and shit really DOES open for like a mile around and in-universe implications are that somehow Rusty has created this deeply magic resistant bio-engineered machine

the whole play by play about the orphan heart...........it was probably a clone of hank or dean....

marco

POLO

mAARRRRCO

polo polo!

m a r c o

POLO

Brock sitting down to hug Dean for feeling bad that is so sweet.

True love seems to be flimsy yet real and based upon chemicals, so could be the person they love most who makes their brainvlight up most when they see them

the way Orpheus stretches out his hands and launches it at the joycan to go into hell. he can just send shit to hell if he wants. and he can NOT go to hell or traverse, but he punches one way tickets.

i LOOOOOOOOOVE this episode truly 9/10

[starryeyedjanai]

it takes two, not three (but i’m here anyway)

stomarol 5+1 | E | Read chapter 1 on ao3 thank you @thoroughlycollected for the beta!

Steve’s never thought about them in this context. It’s always been off the table, really. He wouldn't think about Carol because she’s Tommy’s. And he wouldn't think about Tommy because, well—he’s Tommy. or, 5 times Tommy and Carol hook up in front of Steve and 1 time he joins in

Steve doesn't think much of it when Tommy begs him to drive him and Carol to Skull Rock at first.

They're home for the summer and it’s been a few weeks since they got back. Steve's parents are surprisingly in Hawkins for the foreseeable future, so he’s been trying to get out of the house as much as possible.

They’ve hung out together, the three of them, plenty since they got back—at the community pool, around town, whatever they can do to pass the time during the hot summer days.

He doesn't remember summers being this boring, but now that they’re in college and have seen bigger and better things than the StarCourt Mall, coming back to little ol’ Hawkins is astoundingly boring.

He assumed that Tommy and Carol have been hanging out without him, at night, or the days that he doesn't see them, since they’re together or whatever, so it comes as a total surprise when he parks the car near Skull Rock and Tommy asks if Steve can take a walk through the woods so they can make out for a few minutes.

“You’re not fucking serious,” Steve says, but he sees the desperation on Tommy’s face, sees Carol’s pleading eyes. They’re fucking serious. Jesus Christ.

Tommy says, “Just five minutes, man. Carol’s parents are being such assholes and you know how my parents are. We haven't had a second alone since we got back. Just five minutes. Please?”

Steve looks back and forth between them before his gaze settles back on Tommy. “Five minutes? Is that how long you normally last?” he asks, his tone biting, a little mean.

Tommy rolls his eyes. “We’re not going to fuck in your car. We just haven't even been able to be alone in the same room in over two weeks because someone got a C in English.”

Carol glares at him and says, “I didn't know my parents would freak out like this! And English was hard.”

“You speak English,” Tommy says and opens his mouth to say something else, probably something just as snarky, but Carol cuts him off with a glare. Wow, they really must be pent up if they’re bickering like this.

Carol turns to Steve and says, “My parents are being total assholes. They won’t even let me see Tommy unless you’re with us. Please, just five minutes?”

Steve closes his eyes briefly and sighs. He silently curses himself—he can never say no to them.

“Your five minutes started a minute ago,” he says, opening his car door and getting out, slamming the door a little bit harder than necessary.

He walks away with his hands in his pockets, feeling a little bit like an idiot. He should have known. They only ever really come out here when they’re on a double date, when Steve and his date can make out in the front seat while Tommy and Carol make out in the back. It’s been a while since the last time they did that—and it’s in the middle of the fucking day right now—so Steve can't be blamed for forgetting that this is primarily a hook up spot.

He walks for a couple minutes, the muggy humid air making his hair stick to the back of his neck. He turns back around after another minute because they said five minutes and if they want any longer, they can get out and make out against a tree or something while he enjoys the air conditioning of his car.

When he gets back to the car, the windows are fogging up and Tommy and Carol aren’t vertical in the back. He rolls his eyes and taps on the window.

He says, “Time’s up,” before opening the backseat door. They pull away from each other’s mouths and look up at him.

Tommy has his hand shoved up Carol’s shirt and both of their lips are bitten red. He tries not to look at them as they sit up and Tommy adjusts himself in his pants.

Carol slides out of the backseat and closes the door, grinning up at Steve before taking her seat in the front seat again.

He gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car.

They hadn't had any other plans today, so he drives away from Skull Rock towards the mall, the silence in the car stifling and loud.

They don't talk on the way to the mall, so he turns the radio on and tries not to feel bad.

Look, he can sympathize with them, but he’s not going to feel like he’s cockblocking his friends because he won't let them have sex in his car.

He gets it. Truly, he gets it. Having all that freedom in college, staying out as late as they want, staying over when one of their roommates was gone for the weekend, and then having to come back here for the summer and live like they’re in high school all over again isn't easy. But still, using him and his car for a ticket to hook up in the middle of the day feels kind of slimy, even for them.

Part 2

[creativesnek]

Mushroom Foraging Scare

“All right guys! Today, I’m out here with Peach, looking for some tasty mushrooms for dinner.”

Luigi panned the camera stick over him, capturing Peach on the shot. As he continued to film, Peach smiled and waved at the camera, her excitement evident. The sun-dappled forest provided a picturesque backdrop for their mushroom hunting adventure.

"Let's see if we can find some of those delectable chanterelles," Luigi said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. He adjusted his hat and led the way deeper into the woods, with Peach following closely behind.

As they ventured further into the forest, the air became cooler and filled with earthy scents. The ground was covered in a thick carpet of fallen leaves, making each step slightly crunchy under their feet. Luigi's eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for any signs of mushroom patches. As they did so, the man thanked the donations and let the comments flow.

The forest is so pretty 😍

New area unlocked

Damn, the dark web theory to mushroom foraging pipeline is REAL

Weeg looks so adorable and excited

Protecc this man at all cost

*SuperBro has donated 1500 bits! I will never understand y u like mushrooms so much🤢*

Luigi smirked at his brother’s words. Mario has always hated mushrooms, even when they were little. If Mama cooked with them, he’d pick them off his plate and give them to Luigi. To this day he finds it ironic, considering Peach is a Toad person. One can see it on the white freckles and reddish cheek that she bloomed from the royal mycelium. In the end, Mario ended up falling for the thing he disliked most and Luigi will never let him live it down. 

They continued onwards, stopping every now and then to look over a dead log before moving on. Luigi and Peach were taking their time, enjoying the outdoors and summer breeze. As they ventured deeper into the forest, Luigi and Peach marveled at the vibrant hues of green that surrounded them. 

So peaceful…

Do y’all have a club or smth I can join? Kinda wanna get into this🤔

Isn’t this… cannibalism for Peach?

“Peach, you got a question,” said Luigi.

“What?”

Luigi stopped for a moment. “Someone asked if this is cannibalism for you.”

Peach threw her head back and laughed. The question has popped up several times, and honestly it doesn’t bother her. Newcomers are a common occurrence during streams; plus, it was an opportunity to educate people on Toadfolk culture and physiology. Peach jumped over a log, “No, this isn’t cannibalism for me,” she replied with a giggle. “Toads are born from a special and totally different form of mycelium, which is why we’re sentient. Mushrooms, on the other hand, don’t come from this and therefore aren’t sentient or anywhere near close to being my species.”

Luigi adjusted his camera. “Well, Peachie here is born from an even more special mycelium, which is why she looks more like me than normal Toads.”

Ohh ok

Peach just *spawns into existence* 🧍🏽‍♀️

Guys, king oysters 3 o’clock

The green-wearing man’s eyes widened. “King oysters?”

“Where?!”

Luigi looked around, looking for the mushroom patch that the comment mentioned. And lo and behold, there it was to his right. Giggling like school children, the two ran towards it.

THERE THEY GOOO

Freaking dorks, i luv them

Damn they really want those shrooms😂

The two made it to the patch, then dropped to their knees. Luigi angled the camera, making sure he had a proper shot of the beautiful fungi.

Pat the cap

i wanna poke it

By law, Luigi must pat the cap.

*Tao Coffee ☕donated 1000 bits! give pats to the mushroom pls*

“Hold on, lemme double check that they’re safe,” said Peach.

She laid on her stomach, inspecting the fungi before standing up and nodding. Luigi lifted his free hand and proceeded to give the requested pats to the king oyster mushrooms. Cheers and happy emoticons flooded the chat. Luigi set his camera stick down, angled towards them as they started digging some out. 

“Oh wow, these are big mushrooms,” he commented.

Peach slowly dug one out and lifted it to the air. “Look at this one! It’s bigger than my hand!”

The two talked back and forth as they collected the mushrooms, exclaiming their excitement.

Still don’t know how tf I got here…

Take a bite out of it

I wanna bite it

Luigi looked at his phone. “I highly recommend not eating raw mushrooms, especially freshly picked ones.”

Peach gasped. “Ohh, how are you going to cook them?”

“I was thinking of sauteeing them and then eating them with rice,” he replied.

The two started suggesting recipes (with the Chat drooling over the suggestion) but were suddenly interrupted by the sound of thunder. They looked up and gasped; the once sunny sky had suddenly turned dark. Luigi dropped the king oysters into a bag, then put them in his backpack. Peach frowned, “That storm’s coming in pretty quickly,” he said.

Luigi nodded in understanding and looked around. In the distance, he noticed an old building, covered in vines and shrubbery. It looked sketchy but it’ll have to do, the storm was rolling in quickly. He grabbed his stuff and made a beeline towards it; Peach followed closely behind. The rain started pouring behind them. 

As they approached the dilapidated building, Luigi could feel a sense of unease creeping up his spine. The creaking sound of the rusty gate swinging in the wind added to the eerie atmosphere surrounding them. Despite his reservations, he knew they had no other choice but to seek shelter within its mysterious walls.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, a musty smell filled their nostrils, and their eyes adjusted to the dimly lit interior. The room was cluttered with broken furniture and covered in layers of dust, as if it had been abandoned for years.

Sketchy af 🫤

Watch for glass or used needles u guys

Get out. Get outta there. 

Hell no, I’d rather stay out in the rain

*SuperBro donated 25 bits! Lu, Peach, keep an eye out.*

Heeding his brother’s and the chat’s words, they found a clean spot to sit and just wait. Bowser would be here soon to pick them up; he most likely noticed the clouds and is already on his way here. Luigi sighed, “Hey, at least we got our haul, right?” he said, trying to sooth the tension. Peach nodded.

An hour passed by. They tried to distract themselves by enjoying the sound of music or answering donation questions. Peach fiddled with her pocket knife, nervously looking around. Suddenly they heard glass breaking. Luigi's eyes widened in fear, his hand instinctively flying to cover his mouth to stifle any noise that might escape.

The group exchanged worried glances, their previous distractions forgotten in an instant. Peach's grip tightened around her pocket knife, her knuckles turning white as she prepared herself for whatever might come next. They had hoped for a peaceful evening, but it seemed fate had other plans.

Then they heard the horrible growl.

RUN

FUCKING RUN

Omg do we call 911???!

dis so fake ong

^^ stfu. 😡

Hey there demons, it’s me ya boi

The duo shot up to their feet and booked it towards an exit, leaving the camera behind. They leaped over debris, screaming.

Someone call King!

King!

He better come get his man

*King donated 1 bit! I’M OUTSIDE!*

They could see headlights from another exit. Peach and Luigi ran out into the rain. A large truck pulled closer. Both recognized it as Bowser’s standard vehicle. Without skipping a beat, they headed towards it as it meant safety. As Peach and Luigi dashed through the pouring rain, their hearts pounded with a mix of fear and determination.

Luigi headed towards the side and frantically got inside, wiping away wet hair from his face. Bowser picked him up by the scruff and pulled him inside further. Peach climbed inside, collapsing across the seats. There was silence except for their pants and the truck’s engine for a few seconds. Bowser touched his face, “Are you okay?!” 

“I-I’m okay…”

The concerned Koopa turned to look at the backseats. “Peaches, you good?!”

Peach gave him a weak thumbs-up. Bowser sighed and squeezed his boyfriend’s hand tightly. They took a moment to gather themselves. Peach slowly sat up and moved her ponytail over her shoulder, nervously running her hands through it. Luigi sighed and put his backpack on his lap. Then he froze. 

“I left my phone behind.”

Bowser stared straight ahead. Then took off his seatbelt. Luigi went to grab his arm but he got out before he could even touch him. He slammed the door close behind him, “Stay here.”

Peach and Luigi’s protests fell on deaf ears as the large koopa marched inside, smoke trails leaving his nostrils. They watched nervously as the minutes ticked by, fearful of what would happen next. Luigi knew Bowser was fully capable of defending himself, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t worry. 

They both jumped and screamed when the car door opened suddenly.

Bowser took his seat, getting comfortable on the custom-made seat fit for his shell. He handed Luigi the camera stick, which he had kept dry. Luigi took it, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did. Also, it wasn’t some random crackhead or anything like that; just a bunch of asshole Boos playing pranks.”

The two sighed in relief. Luigi lifted the phone, trying to give the audience a reassuring smile.

He’s alive!

He lives!

Damn, Bowser lookin’ fine in the rain 👀🫦

Weeg, how could u cheatin on King? Disappointed 🙁

Bowser is King, dumbass.😑

The chat continued their expressions of relief (and the occasional bickering) as Luigi stayed on screen. Bowser wiped his hair back, then started the truck again. He also turned on the heater, “Let’s go home before you two catch a cold.”

Luigi smiled at him, “It’s my turn to make dinner.”

“Sounds good to me,” Bowser replied.

[believingispowerfulmagic]

The Nanny

Summary: Regina Mills is hired to be the nanny for Roland Locksley, the young son of widowed millionaire Robin Locksley. She balances her duties as Roland’s nanny with caring for her ailing father all the while fighting her instant attraction to her employer and her own past. Outlaw Queen, modern non-magical AU.

Chapter 1: AO3 | Wattpad

Chapter 40: Moving Forward

AO3 | Wattpad

Excerpt:

"Here are your keys," the salesman said, handing Regina a key fob. "Congratulations, the car is all yours."

"Thank you," she said, holding the fob against her chest. "Is there anything else I need to do?"

He shook his head. "Just drive it off the lot."

Pride and excitement filled Robin as he rubbed her back. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," she said, her eyes shining with happiness. "Let's go!"

"Then I'll take you to your new car," the salesman said, walking away. "Follow me."

Regina took Robin's hand, giving it a squeeze. She smiled at him. "I have my own car."

He nodded, knowing how important this was to her after losing her last car because of Leopold Blanchard. Robin squeezed her hand back. "Yes, you do."

"I can't wait to take it places," she said. "I love Will and Marco but sometimes you just want to drive yourself and not have to wait for someone to come pick you up."

"I get it," he replied. "Not everyone wants to be chauffeured around all the time."

The salesman stopped next to a black SUV, smiling. "Here it is, Ms. Mills."

She released Robin's hand and moved toward the car as it unlocked. Regina jumped before looking at the salesman. "Is that normal?"

"Yes," he said. "As long as you have the fob, the door will unlock and lock without you having to press a button."

"Wow," she replied, amazed by everything. "Cars certainly have gotten fancier since I last owned one."

Robin chuckled as he nodded. "Yes, they have."

She opened the door and climbed in. The salesman showed her how to adjust the seat to her liking and then how to start the engine. Robin climbed into the passenger seat and buckled up as the car started. "Any questions?" the salesman asked.

"Not right now," she said, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. "But I probably will once I'm home."

"Well, the owner's manual is in the packet I gave your boyfriend," the salesman said, pointing to Robin. "And you can always call me if you want. My business card is in there too. Otherwise, I think you'll be fine."

She nodded. "Okay. Then I guess it's time to go."

The salesman wished her the best before closing the door. She turned to Robin. "You ready?"

"I am," he said. "Take us away."

"Okay," she said, putting the car in drive. She took a deep breath before easing her foot off the brake. "Here we go."

The car rolled forward and she slowly picked up speed as she drove away from the dealership. She bit her lip before letting out a little laugh. "I'm driving," she said. "I'm driving my own car."

"Yes, you are," he said, happy to see her so happy. "And you're doing a fantastic job. Do you want to go somewhere or just go straight home?"

"Part of me wants to go straight home," she replied, no doubt missing their twins. She had slowly been going out more and more as she continued to heal from giving birth as well as got them to start bottle feeding along with breastfeeding so she wasn't solely responsible for feeding them. However, she was always happy to return home and spend as much time with them.

She then bit her lip before saying: "But I also really want to go eat at Granny's."

He chuckled. "Then let's go eat at Granny's."

She slowed to a stop at a red light. Regina turned on her right signal, looking at him with a big smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied. "We can consider it a celebration."

"I like that," she said, easing into her turn once the light turned green. She drove down the street until she came to the familiar diner, getting a spot right in front of her old apartment building. Regina put her car into park as she looked up at the building. "Wow, this certainly brings back lots of memories."

He nodded. "I'm sure it does. And I hope they are only the good ones."

"Right now, yes," she replied, unbuckling herself. "I also remember that the last time I was here, we talked about me buying a car."

"We did," he said, unbuckling his belt as well. "And now you've done it."

She laughed, nodding. "Yes, I did."

They got out of the car and after she locked it, he took her hand as they checked for oncoming traffic. Robin and Regina crossed the street before he opened the door to Granny's Diner. "After you," he said.

"Thank you," she replied, stepping into the diner. He followed her and let the door close behind him.

"Hello, you two," Ruby said, greeting them. "What brings you two to our humble establishment?"

Robin gently pushed Regina forward. "We're celebrating. Regina got a new car."

Pulling out two menus, Ruby's smile widened. "You did? Congratulations! You want to celebrate in your usual booth?" she asked.

"If it's available, I would appreciate it," Regina replied. "Thank you."

"Of course it is available," Ruby said, grinning. "You seem to have a sixth sense when it's open."

Regina chuckled, following Ruby with Robin in tow. "Or maybe you just keep my booth open on the chance I might come in."

Setting down the menus, Ruby shrugged as she smirked. "I guess you'll never know. I'll let you pretend to look over the menu and then I'll come back to get your order for a BLT and a ginger ale."

"Thanks, Rubes," Regina said, sitting down. "But you never know. Maybe I'll order something new this time."

"I'll believe that when I see it," Ruby replied. "Be back soon."

She walked away as Robin picked up his menu. "If you want the BLT, just get the BLT. Don't let her get to you," he said.

Regina chuckled. "Oh, I'm still getting the BLT. Ruby and I just like to banter about it. It's kinda our thing."

"Alright," he said. "I don't want you to be bullied into getting something you don't want."

"I appreciate it," she replied, smiling at him. "Thank you."

He nodded, opening the menu. "So I guess it's now just up to me to figure out what I want."

She hummed. "You're going to get the burger."

"So am I predictable now?" he asked her, looking over the edge of his menu at her.

"Maybe," she replied before smiling. "But I like it."

He chuckled. "Good to know."

Ruby returned, setting down a glass of Coke and another glass of ginger ale. "Okay, I think I've given you enough time to pretend that you've looked over the menu. So, you ready to order?"

"Yes," Regina replied, closing her menu. "I'll have the BLT. Please continue to hold the cheese."

"Alright," Ruby said, writing it down. "And Robin?"

He closed his menu as he said: "I'll have a burger, medium well, and some French fries, please."

She nodded, writing that down. "No surprise there either."

"We are predictable and we like it," he said, winking at Regina. She nodded as she laughed. "There is nothing wrong with it."

"Especially after the year we've had," she said, nodding.

Ruby chuckled. "I can't argue with that logic. So you two go ahead and enjoy your predictable and uneventful lives. You deserve it."

"You know, to anyone else that would've been an insult," Robin said once Ruby walked away. "But to us, it's a compliment."

"True," Regina replied. "But we're not your usual couple."

He nodded, taking her hand. "And I wouldn't want to be. I like us just the way we are."

Regina's smile turned softer as she seemed to melt before his eyes. "I like us just the way we are too."

"Here are your drinks," Granny said, surprising them as she set down Regina's ginger ale and his glass of Coke. "I must say, it's good to see you both."

"It's good to see you too," Robin replied, taking a straw from her.

Granny nodded before asking: "How are those beautiful babies of yours?"

Regina's eyes lit up as she pulled out her phone. "They are doing well and getting so big! I love watching as they develop into little people. They are just amazing. And Roland is doing well in school – he's now going three days a week! He's just a happy little boy. We're just really blessed. Right, Robin?"

"Right," he said, amused by everything she had said. "We're very lucky. Everyone is happy and healthy. I can't ask for more."

"No, you can't," Granny agreed. "I take it you're about to show me pictures?"

Regina nodded, holding out her phone to Granny. "Of course I am! I'm a mother with two adorable babies. I'm pretty sure I'm required by law to show them to everyone," she said.

"I've heard that too," Robin replied, nodding as well. "It's an actual law."

"Well, then, I wouldn't want you to break the law," Granny said, taking Regina's phone. Her gaze and smile softened. "Oh, they are beautiful."

Regina nodded. "They are. I go to bed thinking I can't love them more and then I wake up and find out I can."

Granny handed her phone back to her. "That certainly sounds like parenthood. Right, Robin?"

"Right," he agreed. "It's an amazing experience."

"I hope I can see them in person again soon," Granny replied. "Now, I think Ruby will be out shortly with your food so I'll let you enjoy it. Just come say goodbye before you leave."

Regina nodded. "We will. Promise."

Granny smiled. "Good. Then enjoy your free time and enjoy your meals. You both deserve it."

"Thank you," Robin said, sitting up straighter as Ruby approached with their meals. "I love how fast the service is here."

"We pride ourselves on it," Ruby replied, setting his burger down in front of him before placing down Regina's BLT. "Can I get you two anything else?"

Robin shook his head. "Regina?"

"I'm good," she replied. "Thank you, Rubes."

"You're welcome. Enjoy," Ruby said, walking away. Robin grabbed the bottle of ketchup on the table and placed it on the inside of his bun before taking a bite of the juicy hamburger. It never disappointed.

He looked up at Regina, watching as she enjoyed her BLT. After last year, he wanted to help make all her dreams come true this year. They were off to a good start – she had become a mother and now had her own car. Robin couldn't wait to see what dream she would achieve next.

[gurugirl]

I love stepdad Harry! Always brings a smile to my face when i see youve posted (guilty pleasure yum). Thank you for the last one!

but i cannot get enough of stepmom reader. You’ve made that one into something really special. In fact I told someone about it last week and they were like ~ nope. Not into stepmom stuff or older yn. Nope ~

but then guess what? they wound up reading it and binged all three parts and admitted to me that they were wrong 😂 I’m like ‘yeah I know’

just wanted to share that with you! Your stepmom fic is so shockingly good (not shocking bc you’re not a good writer, shocking bc it’s a trope most of us were not interested in) that it’s quickly become my top 5 all time favorite.

i cannot wait for part 4! I adore them and you so much. Do you have any idea when part 4 will come out? Any sneaky???

ps.. sorry for the weird capitalization stuff going on there. My phone decided when to capitalize randomly and I’m too lazy to fix.

A Good Boy sneak peek under the cut below!

🥹 thank you so much, babe. Really glad you liked the stepdad!harry from yesterday! That was a quick little fun thing to write.

As for stepmom!reader - wow! I really love that you're liking it so much and talking about it with other people and that your friend changed their mind 😂 Seems to be the theme for that fic. So many of y'all didn't think you'd like it based on the trope alone but I'm surprised that you guys did enjoy it anyway! Makes me smile.

So, I'm almost done with part 4. I think I can have it out by Thursday? Maybe? I'm super busy today (well, busy for me LOL) and gonna try to write but I've also got something I'm working on that someone paid me to write so I'm prioritizing that. Thursday at the earliest I'll post part 4 but I'll let y'all know.

And the random capitalization? My phone does the same. 😂 The words can't, can, and don't often get capitalized in the middle of sentences and it's a crapshoot on when the beginning of a sentence will be capitalized or not. I need to turn it off so it just leaves everything lowercase. So no judgement from me!

Sneak peek below !! (just remember this is literally copied from the word doc I'm writing in and hasn't been proofread or edited so some changed may be made before I post part 4)

Y/n was wearing her newly altered peach silk dress. The alterations were simple. The straps and hem were adjusted and the back column was dropped down a bit to drape to her low back. Her strappy nude heels were well-worn but comfortable because she was just simply not in the mood to wear the stiff, new heels she’d just bought.

The estate of Rebecca Manera was impressive. Probably equally as impressive as Leonardo Styles’. Most of the guests had already arrived by the time the Styles’ walked through the front door a little late.

Leo scolded Y/n for taking so long to get ready and making them run behind but in all honesty, she didn’t give a fuck. They could be half an hour late. No one would care. Why rush to go to a party? It’s not like they needed to clock in and earn a paycheck.

“It’s rude, Y/n. That’s why it matters. You’re so goddamn rude sometimes. You only think about yourself.”

She turned sharply to look at her husband in shock. That was the first time he’d ever said such a thing to her. Normally he had no opinion on how she conducted herself. She was chronically late. Yes, she could admit that was a flaw in her character but she was on time when it really counted. But to get so worked up over a party? And to insult her on top of it?

That had set the whole mood for the night. And now she was even more suspicious about this Rebecca.

But when Rebecca did make her appearance and introduced herself to Y/n she was taken aback. The woman had to be in her 50s. She was pretty, sure, but not quite Leo’s type. If Y/n were any sort of indicator of a type.

Servers walked around with trays and served the couples in attendance. There were only ten couples there as well as Rebecca’s two daughters, Y/n learned. Quite the intimate affair really.

Leo brought a glass of wine to Y/n as she chatted with Mrs. Topman (she never learned her first name, as the woman literally introduced herself as Mrs. Topman).

“Here you are darling.” His green eyes shined down at her before searching the room casually. She was on to Leo. But she found it odd that the woman he was with in the Hamptons was Rebecca. She was intrigued.

She watched Rebecca mingle and sip wine and laugh and there was nothing there that made Y/n think Leo would be interested in her sexually. But maybe that was it, Y/n thought to herself as she cocked her head to the side watching the woman speak boisterously. Maybe it wasn’t sexual. Maybe it was a woman he felt a deeper connection with than he did with Y/n. Perhaps it hadn’t started sexual but led there.

The snack table was set up with decadent treats. Y/n picked up a toast smeared with something pink, topped with heart-shaped tomatoes on top as she scanned the room for Leo, wondering where he’d gone off to. It hadn’t been that long but knowing about Rebecca being with him made things feel like she was in some kind of true crime detective story and was trying to get to the bottom of a mystery. Though there was no crime being committed, she could entertain herself with that thought.

“Are you enjoying your time tonight?”

Y/n turned her sight to Rebecca who was next to her picking up the same toast with pink schmear.

“It’s amazing. Your home is so lovely, Mrs. Manera,” she smiled and noted the woman’s massive diamond ring in addition to her massive diamond wedding ring.

“Why thank you. Phineas has put in so much work to make this large shell into a lovely cozy home.”

Y/n nearly spat her bite out. The home was anything but cozy.

“It’s incredible. Where is Mr. Manera tonight?”

“Oh, just over there,” she pointed to a man in tweed with thick black-framed glasses, “You haven’t met yet?”

Rebecca led the way as Y/n walked in her wake to meet Mr. Manera. She had still not spotted her own husband.

“Phineas, dear, this is Mrs. Styles. Leonardo’s wife.”

The man held his hand out, “Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Styles.”

“Likewise. You can call me Y/n.”

 “Well, Y/n. We’re happy to have you here. Where’s Leo anyway? Haven’t seen him.”

Turning around quickly to look over her shoulder she shrugged and faced the man and his wife again, “Not sure actually. I haven’t seen him in a bit myself,” she laughed. And before she could even think about what she was implying she spoke to Rebecca, “But I’m sure you’ve seen enough of him since you saw him in the Hampton’s this weekend.”

Rebecca and Phineas’ smiles dropped as they looked at one another and then back to Y/n, “I haven’t been to the Hamptons in over a decade. Are you sure you’re not mistaking me for Parker? Our daughter? She was just there all weekend with her girlfriends.”

A Good Boy Masterlist

A Good Boy tags: @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @shishcabobsworld @daphnesutton @spinnerswife69 @holy-macncheese-balls @cookielovesbook-akie @lilfreakjez @itsgigikay @amateurduck

[beneathsilverstars]

For the isat ask game

3, 21, and 8 please

gonna throw in #4 first because the character i relate to the most is unfortunately..

4. Which character do you wish you didn’t relate to?

loop... hold on i just scrolled through my blog for twenty minutes to find the post where i realized this

me looking at posts online: wow all of you poor souls relating to siffrin, personally i am too well-adjusted and mentally healthy for that though me thinking about my own life: i am so sick of having to do hard shit all day every day, but i can't simply stop doing it. i desperately need help except no one else in the world other than me could possibly provide it. or maybe what i need is to be forcibly moved to a different timeline where i have to do nothing all day every day. haha if i was siffrin i would just spend nearly every day hanging out at the favor tree with- oh. ah, fuck. shit. fuck

3. Which character do you relate to the most?

on a more surface personality level i think the only moment in the game where i went "oh just like me fr" was about the stylish one, when Mirabelle said she thought she was scary. irl i am rather quiet and very flat, and people often think i'm angry at them even though that's an emotion i rarely feel! and i enjoy dressing up partially bc i love outfit design, but partially bc it makes me feel like i'm giving off cool intimidating vibes instead of plain i-hate-you vibes.

21. Your favorite Ship?

loopdile!!! i usually happily enjoy rather popular ships, i've never had such an odd rarepair grab me by the THROAT like this before. weird nonhuman x serious researcher is just silverstars catnip i guess... and. i suppose i did just say that i relate to loop on some level fjkghfg so ofc i ship them with the hot older lesbian -_-

8. How many Loops did your first playthrough have, If applicable?

108! i think i played the game fairly normally. other than the fact that it was over the span of three days.

[mrporg]

Lonnie and Sam

Another day, another #Fullbright character, this time from Gone Home.

You never meet Lonnie. Heck, you never interact with her at all. You just read about her in your your sister's, Sam, diary (with her permission!), from which the entries are distilled throughout the game. And all the while, you are trying to piece together what the hell happened back home while you were away and why everyone has disappeared.

But wow, you should hear Sam speak about Lonnie!

=== SPOILERS below - Diary entries ===

"You know that feeling where the first moment you see someone, it's like they have a big gold star around them, and you have to get to know them? Well, there's this girl. I think she's a senior; [...]

She's always drawing in this notebook, looking so intense. I had no idea how I would ever, like, have an excuse to talk to her... "

---

"It's weird hanging out with girls. Daniel was around ever since I was little, and other girls... I dunno. But being around Lonnie is, like, instantly just right. [...] I dunno, I finally found someone I feel normal around."

---

"Lonnie brought her hair dye over today. She said, "I need to fix these roots. Think you could help?" Dyeing hair is weirdly intimate. I don't know if I've touched someone else's scalp before. That's pretty intimate, right? It felt intimate.

We looked in the mirror together after and I expected her to say something about how it looked crappy, or good or whatever. But that's when she said, "You're so beautiful." And she was looking at me. Right in that moment, I wanted to say... something. But I waited, and the moment was gone."

---

"At Todd's brother's place after the show, there was only a futon to sleep on, so Lonnie and I shared it. The lights went out... I was turned toward her... my eyes started to adjust, and then I could see she was looking at me, too. In the dark, she smiled. My heart was beating so fast. I rolled over, I felt so... I don't know, nervous? After a minute she put her arm around me, and was so close, and whispered in my ear, "I really like you." I just nodded my head and I really hope she could tell. I really hope... that she meant what I think she did. I've felt like a shook-up can of soda ever since. I hope we have a chance to talk before I explode."

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Now of course, it's not that simple, because that wouldn't make a good story I suppose. But enough spoilers, go play the game if you want to know the rest ;)