#i should be asleep because i have a job interview today lol

[vergilthelibrarian]

He watches.

Always watching.

The façade that he puts on was convincing to everyone, including you.

He never wanted anyone to see the sadness that sat in his heart, making it heavy, a contrast to the joking and carefree mask he wore.

No one needed to know the fear he actually felt. The unresolved trauma that he continues to push away like the few loved ones he had left.

And yet for some odd reason, you make him want to take off that mask. To be vulnerable.

But he just couldn’t do it.

He believed that if he did, you would die just like everyone else he has ever cared for, and Dante didn’t want to lose you.

If he lost you, he would truly become a devil.

Yet here he was in your bedroom, watching you snore lightly, sprawled out on your bed.

In Dante’s opinion, you were too damn kind.

Yes, we needed more kindness in the world, but he felt as though you just let people walk over you sometimes.

You didn’t like confrontations so you would always agree to disagree or shut down the moment a fight begins to occur.

He would see how your eyes would widen slightly. The fearful gulp. Your body slightly trembles as you glance away, avoiding eye contact as a quiet and shaky apology would leave your lips.

Dante hated to admit it, but he understood that feeling all too well. It was a feeling he had learned to ignore in order to never feel weak again.

He needed to be strong in order to protect himself and the few people he cared about, and you were one of them.

Though most people would think you were lucky to have the handsome demon hunter to have his eye on you; in reality, Dante wasn’t the most… stable man. Financially and mentally.

He had always pushed the ones he wishes to protect away… yet he just couldn’t push you away. It was just too difficult for him to do.

You were the light that he was always subconsciously looking for. The hope that he has been praying for.

To push you away means to be consumed by the fear he tries so hard to ignore.

And in Dante’s eyes, to deny you was like to deny God.

To him, you were his savior, his personal God, his very own piece of heaven.

He was beginning to understand all the things about religious worship because unbeknownst to you, he worshipped your very being and though he was a rather selfless man, he quickly realized that he wanted to be the only one who worshipped you.

You were too damn kind and he was too damn selfless, so it wouldn’t hurt to be a little selfish sometimes… that’s what he usually told himself whenever he stalked you.

It’s what he was telling himself right now as he was watching you sleep.

And it is what he would continue to tell himself when he eventually locks you away, being the only one who can worship your divine light, becoming the only one to receive your kindness.

[hellfirenacht]

Wing Man Bonus Story: Next October

This is a non-canon blurb for Wing Man. It’s non-canon because it gives Reader a specific birthday month. This was written for me and for @sheneedsrocknroll92 as we are actually twins with the same October birthday, ignore the gap year between us. 

You don’t need to know much about Wing Man to enjoy this, but you should read it anyway because it’s a finished 86k word Reader/Eddie fic and don’t you want to read a finished fic that long? Yes. Yes you do. (You also want to leave comments on all the fics you read when you enjoy them, js)

Anyway, say Happy Birthday to both of us. Also, sorry this is a few days late lol

1.8K Words

Plot: It’s your birthday, and you’re drowning in work. Thankfully, you have an amazing boyfriend to help you relax.

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, established relationship, fluff, overuse of the word slut (affectionate)

You loved your job, really. Most nights you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. You got to spin and talk about almost anything that you wanted, play music you enjoyed, and even spend the occasional commercial break with your amazing boyfriend when he stayed late at the studio. 

But there were only so many hours in the day. Your nights from midnight to 6 am were spent on air. Your mornings were chores and errands while everything was still open, followed by sleeping until dusk where you’d wake up and would head to work so early to spend some time with Eddie at the recording studio, or at one of his gigs, or do any other number of things around the studio. 

It didn’t even occur to you that it was almost your birthday. You had been so wrapped up in your own work and helping Eddie and Corroded Coffin that it wasn’t until you saw Halloween decorations being put up around the studio that you realized that October was right around the corner, which meant that it was also almost your birthday. 

It was a bittersweet seeing the decorations. It felt like only a few weeks ago that you had decorated Family Video with decorations you paid for out of your own pocket. Shit, that meant it had been about a year since you and Steve had made the little deal that had led you to where you are today. 

You should drop by and see him soon. 

Even though you and Eddie had started living together months ago, it still felt rare that you got to see him outside of work. Corroded Coffin was doing better than anyone (except you) could have expected. That meant lots of rehearsals, gigs, talking to local publications for interviews, and being awake when you were asleep. You were really starting to miss him. 

It was the morning of your birthday, and you stepped out of the old theater-turned-studio into the cool October air. There was a golden shine on everything as the sun peeked over the horizon, and the air felt crisp and cool but not uncomfortably so. 

I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. That quote floated through your mind as you got in your car. 

Even though it was your birthday, there were still things to be done. You grabbed your half of the rent, picked up some deodorant and toothpaste and the largest bottle of conditioner you could find for Eddie. You stood in the cereal aisle staring at the colorful boxes, allowing yourself the moment to pick out one that was appropriately themed for the month and that you and Eddie would both enjoy, and finally made it back home. 

Eddie wasn’t home when you got back to your apartment, it wasn’t unusual. You might have had set hours, but Eddie’s schedule was all over the place. Ever the life of an indie metal star. 

You put away your groceries and made your way to the closet where you kept all of the halloween decorations. You managed to pull out two boxes and open one before you hit the wall. These days of going non-stop were starting to catch up to you, and you found yourself just staring at the box as you sat on the couch for an undisclosed amount of time. 

Yeah, you needed sleep. 

It was damn near a miracle that your birthday lined up with your next few days off. You could sleep for a few hours, wake up, decorate and then figure out where the hell your boyfriend was. Most days you two would be at the studio together, but there were some days where Paige had him off doing something else with the band. 

You weren’t jealous that Paige was Eddie’s ex. You were jealous that she got to see him more than you did lately. You trusted him completely, but you really missed having a normal schedule with him. 

You found yourself crawling into his side of the bed and nuzzling into his pillow. Sometimes it was nice to have the bed to yourself, but there were mornings like this when you wished that he was here and you two could just talk nonsense until you fell asleep. 

Just a few hours of sleep and then you’d get back to work...

You felt something nudge you, and your eyes opened just slightly. There was something, no someone, in front of you. You hoped it was Eddie. It probably was. He said something. You mumbled something nonsensical in return and closed your eyes again. 

There was another nudge and this time you could only lift your hand slightly and let it flop down like a dead fish. 

It was quiet for a long while after that. You finally opened your eyes and saw... nothing. Shit, you slept longer than you meant to. If it was this dark then that meant that it was night time now and Eddie was probably already at the studio again doing who-knows-what.

You peeled yourself off the bed and sat there, trying to reorient yourself. You loved your job, but the sleep schedule had been hard to manage, especially as the days grew shorter and you saw the sun less during the day. 

After counting to three, you pushed yourself off the bed. You’d make yourself something to eat, and probably spend all night watching Halloween movies until Eddie came home. 

When you stepped out of the bedroom, you heard music. Your eyes adjusted to the lights that had been turned on and you were soon standing in the living room, stunned. 

Your Halloween decorations had been put up, well most of them. You could smell pizza, and there was a record playing- your favorite one. 

“Morning.” Eddie said as he stepped out of the kitchen and gave you a kiss on the cheek. 

“Eddie you- what are you doing here?” you asked, staring at him as if you couldn’t believe he was really standing in front of you. 

“It’s your birthday?” Eddie said, as if he were the one that was confused now. “I told Paige I’m taking the next few days off.” 

It was your birthday. You had barely remembered your own birthday, and so hadn’t expected Eddie to either. 

“Oh shit, what’s wrong?” Eddie asked in a panic, his eyes going wide. “Did I get the wrong date?”

You shook your head quickly, feeling something wet on your cheek. Oh, you might have been tearing up just slightly. Left Turn Studios had been running you so deep into the ground you hadn’t even realized how exhausted you were. 

“No! No, you didn’t. It’s my birthday.” you said, taking his hand. “I just... I had almost forgotten myself and didn’t expect...”

Eddie squeezed your hand. “I know we’ve been working a lot.” he said. “Paige said things will slow down after Halloween for a while and I’ll have more free time. I just.. I missed you. I know I’m still new to the whole ‘being a boyfriend’ thing, but I wasn’t about to leave you alone on your birthday.” 

You were sat on the couch now, and Eddie pointed at you dramatically. “Hear me now” he pointed at you. “For tonight, I am at your complete command. This humble bard will be your personal jester and do whatever you ask.” 

You broke out into a fit of giggles. “Could you do the dishes?” 

Eddie’s chest puffed up and he gave you a proud smile. “Already done.” 

“Shit, you’re good.” you sighed, starting to feel better already. 

There was a buzzing noise coming from the kitchen and Eddie quickly jumped in. A steaming hot pizza was placed on the coffee table in front of you. “I also have some cupcakes in the fridge.” He explained. “I couldn’t remember if you liked chocolate or vanilla more so I just got both-”

“Keep talking like this and I’m promoting you from jester to wife, Eddie.” you threatened, giving him a kiss before digging into the pizza. 

“Would that make me your queen?” he asked, sitting next to you with his own slice. 

“No, I’m still queen. I think there’s a bunch of weird rules about that and if we got married you’d be Queen consort or something.” 

“Doesn’t that just mean I’d be the Queen's slut?”

“You’re thinking concubine, probably.” 

“...Can I be that instead?” 

You nearly choked on your pizza with laughter, feeling lighter than you had in days. “Yeah, sure. I’ll promote you from bard to slut if you keep being nice to me. Wait, aren’t bards known for being that way anyway?”

Eddie looked at you in mock-offense. “You dare suggest that I, Eddie Munson, humble bard, would sleep my way to the top? That I could not wed you on charm and love alone and that I would sell my body?” 

“....Isn’t your current band manager your ex?”

His jaw dropped and twisted into a face that had you falling back on the couch, laughing with tears in your eyes. 

“That’s not- that.. No, that was- I’m- We’re-” he sputtered, unable to hold back his own laughter. “Shit, maybe I am a slut.” 

“As long as you’re only a slut for me, that’s fine.” You leaned over and kissed him, still feeling those butterflies in your stomach as he kissed you back, setting his own pizza aside. 

A while later, Eddie was cleaning you both up as you lay naked on the couch. You reached out to get some post-sex cuddling but he jumped up suddenly as if he remembered something. He cursed and ran into the kitchen. 

You sat up, amused as you saw his naked ass disappear and reappear moments later with the tray of cupcakes, a few sporting lit candles. 

“Eddie, my love, you are naked and handling fire.” you said, looking him up and down in amusement. 

“What would I not do to entertain?” he replied before launching into Happy Birthday. 

You took a deep breath and blew out the candles. 

“I meant to do this before sex, but...”

“We’re not exactly good at going in order.” you finished, grabbing a cupcake with heaps of pumpkin-orange frosting. 

It was well past midnight when half of the cupcakes were gone, and you and Eddie were laying on your cramped couch with him as the big spoon. You two would probably regret it in the morning, but right now there was nowhere else you’d rather be. 

The two of you watched as Pamala Voorhees revealed herself as the killer and you played with the rings on Eddie’s fingers. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest, and you knew that in a few minutes his arm that you were laying on would fall asleep. 

“Happy birthday.” Eddie mumbled, his grip tightening around you. “I love you.” 

You pulled his hand up and kissed his fingers softly. 

Last year, you and Steve had a deal to wingman for each other to help you both get dates. In the end, Steve only managed to help you get one date but that date led you to finding everything you could have ever wanted. 

“I love you too, Eddie.” 

Tag List @k8loo @terrormonster55 @sp1dyb0y1008 @crocwork-clockodile @ali-r3n

@mxcheese @josephquinnschesthair @gagasbee @peaches-roses-sins @witchwolflea

@vintagehellfire @royale1803 @cumslutforaemond @prestinalove @browneyedgirly93

@perpetualmessmachine @thebook-hobbit @cultish-corner @grishaversecaptivated @sortagaysortahigh

@siriuslysmoking @huffledor-able541 @pookiesnatcher @eddiesguitarskills @browneyes-8288

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @kores-mun-son-n-more @eddiebuttcheeks @kirsteng42 @dreamerjj

@moonisu @em022O @cosmorant @kurdtbean @wheels-of-despair

[purplesurveys]

1719

Do you still read the newspaper or have an online newspaper subscription? I have to check the news everyday for work purposes. That's multiple websites of newspapers, their social media accounts, and online magazines.

What's your favourite kind of meat? (vegan/vegetarian options count!) Chicken. I only like pork as pork belly tbh, and steak for me is always a hit or miss.

Have you ever been mistaken for staff at a store you were just visiting? Maybe once or twice; it doesn't happen often. I've been mistaken more frequently as someone's companion. Like people will think they're talking to their friend when it's me.

What's the coolest or most memorable animal you've ever seen at a zoo? The Philippine eagle, but I don't really get *amazed* per se when I see 'cool' animals at zoos. I just feel bad.

Do you share a bedroom with anybody? No. My sister and I tried to share a room once, but it lasted for all of a week because she hated sharing a room with anyone lol. The room also felt super cramped so we quickly decided it wasn't going to work.

What colour are the public buses where you live? We have these white mini-buses that'll pass by here every now and then, and they're white. The bigger buses that traverse Edsa are white and yellow if I'm not mistaken.

How often do you pay your utilities bills? I'm not assigned to any bills in particular, but I transfer to my parents' accounts twice a month. I let them decide how to allot the money.

What video game have you played the most hours of? If you don't know, just make a rough guess. I would guess The Sims 2; that or GTA San Andreas.

Do you own a two-piece bikini? I only own bikinis; I hate how one-pieces feel.

Is there anybody else in the room you're in right now? Nopes.

What have you got within reaching distance of you right now? My phone, my McDonald's orders, pillows, chargers, blanket, work chair, vape.

What have you been craving lately, food-wise? Anything non-food? McDonald's. I overordered last night because I was hungry so I got all my favorites lmao - a triple cheeseburger, large fries, and nuggets.

Is your short-term or long-term memory worse? My short-term memory is horrible; it comes as a disadvantage especially at work and I wouldn't blame my co-workers if they label me as forgetful.

Do you do anything in particular to help you fall asleep? I need to have videos on with the volume at the lowest setting. To avoid draining my battery I have a timer set so that when it runs out my phone will automatically turn the video off.

What was the weather like today? Too early to tell; it's only 7:20 AM. Right now the sun is out but I also wouldn't be surprised if it suddenly rains super aggressively later on in the day as that pattern has been happening lately.

Who will you see within the next week? My dentist, and I am guessing Angela, Hans, and Reena. We've been dying to go to the karaoke these days and I think we'll finally get to next Monday as it will be a public holiday.

Do you have any guilty pleasure music? Anything you're willing to admit in this survey answer? Idk if there's any? I don't feel guilty about anyone whose songs I like.

What was the last movie you watched that was over two hours long? It's been so long since I watched a long movie. It was probably either Titanic or Gone with the Wind.

Speaking of which, what's the longest you think a movie should be? I personally think most movies are too long. It depends on the plot and execution, so I'm not very nitpicky when it comes to this. If a movie needs to be 7 hours long to get its message and art across then so be it.

Do you know anyone who is a medical nurse or doctor? Yes so many people. I'm Asian (aka kids are pressured to be doctors) and Filipino (aka a heavyweight in nursing), so it checks out hah.

Have you ever worked night shifts? If so, did you like it? I have not. I once scored a job interview that would have been a night shift if I got the gig, but at the last minute I decided I didn't want to be in it so I didn't push through with the interview.

Are you good at fixing computer problems? I'd say just basic ones but I'll struggle with even those sometimes, so for the most part no. I leave the troubleshooting to my sister.

Do you tend to make decisions by following your heart or your head? Head.

What's the population of your current city/town? A little below one million.

Do your parents live in their hometown(s)? Nope.

What are you wearing today? My favorite purple pajamas.

Are you one to accessorise a lot? Not at all.

What language other than English do you know the most words of? Filipino.

When was the last time you ate? Did you eat something nice? I'm taking a few bites out of my cheeseburger every now and then this morning. Like I said, I overordered McDonald's last night because I was hungry LOL so most of the shit I got is still here with me today. The only thing I finished last night was the fries and that's because there's no way you can save fries that have gone cold.

[your-jellyfish-senpai]

I have. A phone interview in the morning.

[lucywrites02]

16. Falling Asleep Together

Main Masterlist | Flufftober Masterlist

A/N: aaaaa okay, here they are!!! The prompts from this weekend! Sorry it's so late! I had a job interview today (spoiler alert- I got the job) and then took a long ass nap so now i'm finishing the prompts 17 and 18 because I finally have time for that lol

And I'm sorry that I don't answer all of the comments you guys are leaving under the stories! I read all of them and you have no idea how happy they make me!!!! I just always forget to actually answer them...

Pairing: she/theyLoki x gn! Reader

Word count: 245

Tag List: @twhiddlestonsstuff @dreamingyouth @xladyxfatex @castiels-majestic-wings @lokistan @cozy-the-overlord ​ @whatafuckingdumbass @electroma89 ​ @dpaccione @gaitwae @poetic-fiasco @lokitrashfan @weirdfangirl2416 @rorybutnotgilmore @the-emo-asgardian @wolfish-trickster @serpentargo @darkacademicfrom2021 @imnotrevealingmyname @nyx2021 @theaudacitytowrite @high-functioning-lokipath @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @funsized-mimi @aliiiyyaaah @handmaiden-of-mischief @bouffantofdoom @mischief-siriusly-managed @selfship-mishaps @kozkalovesloki @sarahpaq08

The post credits were quietly playing on the screen as you pulled your blanket up to your neck and gave the trickster a kiss on their hair.

“We should probably go to the bedroom.” Loki yawned and stretched her hands over her head, almost hitting your face. “It will be more comfortable than the couch.”

“Maybe-” You murmured, putting your leg over Loki’s waist. You put your hands around their chest and embraced her tightly so that the goddess back was fully touching your chest. You loved being the big spoon and the trickster was always happy to be the small one. You can’t tell that to anyone though- Loki made you promise her that no one will ever find out about it. It was really cute in your opinion. “Or maybe we could just stay here.”

“Maybe you’re right….” Your lover whispered and wiggled their body on the tiny couch to get more comfortable. “We should at least turn off the TV.” She said, but neither of you wanted to get up to get the remote.

And so you just stayed like that, snuggling on your small couch ignoring whatever was going on on the screen. Neither you nor Loki seemed to mind though. You were already half asleep when you heard the rain gently hitting your window in the kitchen. You closed your eyes and listened to the sounds of the night. The goddess took your left hand and interlocked your fingers together.

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 10

Masterlist

Shoutout to my bestie @acollectionofficsandshit for all the drunk comments she made while betaing this one... Wish you guys could see them lol

Word Count: 4.8k

Recommended song: “Amnesia" by 5SOS

Pierre paces in his dinky trailer at the Circuit of the Americas and desperately tries to forget you exist. He had already taken down the pictures on the wall but the images were burned into his brain. He had shoved your shirt under his bed, having absolutely no idea how it had made its way halfway around the world to taunt him.

He was slowly unraveling like a spool of thread on a loom as you wove him irrevocably into the tapestry of your life.

The race in Austin started in less than two hours and you hadn't texted him. Not once in the handful of years he'd known you had you neglected to wish him luck before a race, even if it was 2 am your time or you had exams, you always took thirty seconds to warn him to be safe and finish well.

He was beginning to think you hated him for how he'd acted at the gala last weekend, jealous and possessive from afar. Talking to you would have been the better choice. But seeing you laugh and dance the night away had hurt too much. He’d slipped out early after Victoria assured him she could find a ride and sped home to fall apart.

He had only barely managed to piece himself together in time for the race.

Pierre checks his phone for the third time in as many minutes and swears under his breath. He didn't know why he expected it to ring and for your face to pop up at this point. Even if you called to tear into him, he'd still fall to his knees at the sound of your voice. He just wanted to hear you speak, didn't care what was said, only that he could latch onto your words and lose himself in them.

Hope sparks when his phone chimes but he nearly throws it across the trailer when he sees Charles' name.

Heard from her yet?

No. At this point I'm beginning to think I never will again.

Maybe she fell asleep early?

It's 5 pm in London. I'll bet you she's eating a bowl of takeout from the Chinese place down the street, not sleeping.

Its still possible. Don't dwell on it. This isn't the headspace you wanna be in before a race. Block it out. I don't wanna see my best friend wind up hurt today.

Pierre didn't reply, if only because Charles was right. Worrying would get him nowhere. After his shitty qualifying yesterday, he started thirteenth on the grid so he had his work cut out for him. Austin offered plenty of opportunity for overtakes; he could get the job done if his team made the right calls. 

And if he made it to the podium, you would have to text him.

The thin mattress groans when he sits to unlace his hastily tied race boots. He folds his legs to sit criss cross and places his palms on his knees. The familiar pose already has some of the tension leaving his shoulders as his eyes slide shut. He breathes in for ten seconds, reflecting on what ails him. He holds the breath for five seconds before releasing it slowly.

He repeats the process until he comes to terms with the fact that you won't be wishing him luck. That was your choice; there was nothing he could do about it and therefore no sense reading into it. He had done all he could to convince you to trust him. The ball was in your court; he had to be patient and wait for you to take a shot.

“Focus,” he murmurs to himself, forcing any erroneous thoughts from his head. “Walk through the track.”

The circuit at Austin was challenging, consisting of a mix of 20 sweeping corners and scattered hairpins. He was almost lucky in a way to be starting so far back on the grid because turn one was only a few hundred meters from pole and their tires would be slightly colder and less grippy upon arrival than his would be. The few extra seconds afforded to him by starting thirteenth could mean the opportunity to leap frog past his rivals in the first corner.

The counterclockwise circuit meant he would have to keep an eye on his front left tire too, as it would wear faster than the others. He'd change gears an average of 66 times per lap, higher than similar length tracks like Monaco. Pit stops cost an average of nineteen seconds, meaning he would need to build a significant gap to the driver chasing him in order to avoid the threat of any undercuts.

There were too many variables occupying space in his mind to afford you a sliver of it.

Some time later he decides that his four leaf clover tucked safely in the worn leather of his wallet will provide all the luck he needs and switches on his pre race playlist after popping in his ear buds.

"Sights on the podium," he murmurs to himself, hand on the doorknob. "Let's race."

The bass flows through him as his feet carry him to the Alpha Tauri garage on autopilot, through the back entrance and to his plain white driver room. The familiar beats are a numbing salve spread on his frayed nerves, his anticipation rising like a crimson wave in his veins. He leaves his clothes in a haphazard heap in the corner and changes into the white fireproofs hanging nearby, thoughts momentarily veering to you knocking on the door and stripping them right back off.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he runs through his usual stretch sets until Pyry arrives to walk him through reflex exercises.

"How's your head?" Pyry asks, running him through more cool down stretches. "Do we need to take a minute and do some meditation?"

"Beat you to it," Pierre grunts out, pushing back against the hand on his head to work his neck. "I'm good."

"You sound better than you have all week, I'll give you that. Keep that focus, use it to propel yourself forward."

"Run me through the lineup again," Pierre requests, "I need something else to think about."

Because if he let his mind follow the path it wanted to, it would inevitably lead to you and undo the work he had done to avoid that. He needed to be empty of anything that wasn't racing, anything else was an unnecessary distraction that had the potential to end in disaster.

Pyry rattles off the grid in order of who Pierre needs to overtake, pausing between each name to give him time to recall their driving styles and potential chinks in their armor to exploit. He knew from tapes of previous years that Stroll often ran wide into turn one, giving Pierre the option to brake late and sweep up the inside. Vettel was half convinced the track was cursed, so his mind would work against him enough that Pierre could exploit it and get past at some point. He continued until he got to Hamilton and Max locking out the front row, where he would need a bit of luck to overtake.

"You got it?" Pyry asks, stepping back.

Pierre rolls his shoulders and nods. 

"Get shit done mate," Pyry says and bumps fists with his driver. He slips out to allow Pierre a moment to center himself before slipping into his race suit, leaving it half unzipped and tying it around his waist before following his trainer.

Pyry leads the way to where the matte navy and white car waits, mechanics swarming it like studious worker bees tending to their queen. No one talks to him save his engineer because words from anyone else threaten to break his carefully constructed race mentality. If they wanted him to bring home points, they knew to leave him alone once he was suited up.

His mind is blank of anything but statistics as he twists his ear buds in and pulls on his balaclava and helmet. As his vision narrows to the sliver of track he can see through his visor, so does his focus. With forty minutes to lights out, he's directed out onto the track. He rips the wheel to the right as he exits the garage, getting a decent powerslide for his efforts.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would land on the podium, if only to see the look on your face when he did.

**********

It took an unfathomable amount of restraint to keep yourself from calling Pierre to wish him luck.

You texted Max instead, wishing him a safe and comfortable podium a half hour before lights out. He hadn't responded, likely already in the garage with his trainer going through his pre race routine.

The pace Max had set the day before had awarded him pole position and the margin between him and Hamilton had been enough that you were confident in his ability to hold off the Mercedes for all fifty six laps.

If you were honest with yourself, you were disappointed that the Alpha Tauri you so desperately tried to ignore would be starting in thirteenth. You try not to think about it, instead queueing up SkySports and opening your laptop for pre race coverage. You avoid the interviews in favor of listening to the commentators analyze the grid.

"It should be an easy win for Max as long as he fends off Hamilton until the first round of pit stops. The undercut works well here, as Red Bull proved last year, and I'm sure they plan on doing the same thing this year."

You hum in agreement, gingerly sipping your steaming tea. You really ought to consider a career as a sportscaster at this point based on how often you came to the same conclusions they did.

"I think one of the biggest shakeups is Russell starting all the way up in eleventh after his amazing qualifying for Williams yesterday. Think he can hold onto that position?"

"He's got some fierce competition not far behind in the form of Alpha Tauri. Gasly starts thirteenth- surprisingly far back on the grid given the otherwise flawless performance he's shown this year. But it seems likely that he should be able to overtake-"

You flick the tv on mute, unable to stomach listening to them sing his praises. You numb your mind with social media until the Formula 1 theme plays on your laptop, alerting you that there's a few minutes until race start. Tire blankets are peeled off and the drivers weave their way through the formation lap with the exception of Kimi who takes his traditional straight line approach to warm up his supersoft tires. 

Most of the front runners are on ultrasofts, indicating a two stop strategy. It was Pirelli's recommended approach, and you were glad that Horner heeded their advice for once and let Max use the ultras in Q2. It would give Max the upper hand over Hamilton who starts on the yellow sidewall tire and thus slightly slower lap times.

Crofty and Brundle break down the notable turns as the cars line up on the grid, pointing out the sharp hairpin only a few hundred meters from pole position. If Max got away clean, he would be ahead of the cramped pack and have an even better edge over the silver arrows who would be forced to queue behind him.

The traditional "lights out and away we go" kicks off the grand prix, engines roaring into the first turn. Max does manage to get away clean and is awarded with an immediate advantage. Turn one proves tragic for the Alfa Romeo of Raikonnen and the Asthon Martin of Stroll who collide and cause Kimi to spin. They rejoin at the back of the pack, your eyes snagging on the navy and white of an Alpha Tauri as it streams past. 

Your heart spins in a similar fashion when the GAS driver tag leaps up two places in the timing table, suddenly in eleventh due to the incident. Your gaze snaps to the laptop humming on your legs before you remember its Max's driver cam you queued up. The Dutchman is silent as his engineer relays information about the incident and informs him of the widening gap between those chasing him. 

“Confirm received,” Gianpiero says calmly. No matter the situation or how heated Max got, he always kept his head. It was what made the duo such a good match and had likely kept Max from going off the rails on more than one occasion.

“Yeah,” Max says shortly, clearly pissed about how quickly Hamilton was approaching. “Let me know when I’ve got enough charge to get out of range.”

“Yep, will do. Just keep this pace and you’ll hold him at bay.”

Live coverage replays the incident between Stroll and Raikonnen from the view of onboard with Pierre. The instant the 10 on the halo appears in the center of your screen you suck in a breath. He yanks the wheel to avoid colliding with Ocon, who had to do the same to keep from hitting his teammate as they navigate through the carnage.

You chew on your lip and try to refocus on the battle between the front runners. Not much is happening in the midfield for the next thirty or so laps and Max just barely manages to build a solid enough gap between himself and Hamilton to dive into the pits comfortably without losing places. 

Your phone rings and you answer it without checking who it was as the only person you wouldn't answer was currently occupied.

"Hello?"

"Why the fuck didn't they pit Daniel?!"

You grin, noting the blistering beginning on his front left tire as SkySports switches to his onboard camera. "Because he's about to pass Charles," you tell Dan's girlfriend. She didn't call you often during races. It was likely that she knew you were nearing your wits end and this was her way of offering support.

"He won't be able to with those tires- oh." She breaks off when Daniel passes a DRS detection zone and his rear wing opens, allowing him to pass the Monegasque with ease. 

"Told you," you say with a touch of reprimand. "You're always too nervous about those things. Daniel knows how to drive, just trust him to get the job done and he'll bring home another trophy for your apartment."

"I don't live here," she points out and you roll your eyes. She had lived in London as long as you had known her, but she was almost always at Daniel's apartment whether he was in town or not. Daniel digs in as the camera follows him for a lap, highlighting the widening gap between the McLaren and the Ferrari.

"You basically do. At this point, you're paying rent for a dusty one bedroom apartment on the east side that you set foot in maybe once a month." She scoffs but you push on, "a waste of sterling if you ask me, when you're at Daniel's every time I ask you to do anything."

"You act like I never- there goes Pierre!"

His name sparks dread in your gut as your attention flicks back to the screen in time to see him overtake Bottas on the inside of turn one. He'd managed to claw up to fifth with the move, somehow gaining places while you weren't looking.

"Good for him," you croak, trying your best to be genuinely happy for him. He was pushing the car to the limit and you'd be amazed if he didn't wind up on the podium along with Dan and Max. Charles and Hamilton were the only ones in his way, and something told you Charles wouldn’t put up much of a fight when his mate reached his gearbox. Hamilton would prove a challenge but he had been making tiny mistakes all day. Nothing significant, though enough to add up to him barely holding onto second while Daniel rode his gearbox.

"He's got ten laps to get past those two," she murmurs as if momentarily forgetting you were on the phone. 

"Can we talk about literally anything else please?" You whisper, half tempted to shut off the race completely. 

"Babe, you have to face the music at some point. Either you never want to see him again or you love him, which is it?"

She never failed to be anything but brutally honest. You appreciate it because everyone else let you brush off your problems, but she called you on your bullshit. She would needle you about it until you folded.

"I think it's better for both of us if I pretend we never met, don't you?"

"Easier for you, yes," she agrees. "But it'll kill Pierre. You don't think you could keep in touch with him, just as friends?"

"I don't know if I can handle that. I can barely look at him without wanting to bawl my eyes out."

She sighs, pausing to contemplate what to say. Voice soft, she continues, "Why don't you just take him back? Clearly it's ruining both of you. Are you really gonna let the press wreck the best you ever had? I know its hard but-"

"I'm not like you," you cut in. "I can't just ignore the articles and the comments and pretend there aren't people out there that hate me for being with him. They came to my house, disrupted my family. Hell, Ben can't even go to school without being mobbed by his classmates demanding answers. If my suffering is what allows my family to go about their lives then so be it."

"If that's what you wanna believe."

You sigh, tangling your fingers in the hem of your shirt. "It is."

"Alright," she says, voice teetering on a knife's edge. "I know better than to try to change your mind when you're like this. He's on the podium by the way. Oh, and watch what you say to Max- Pierre will read into it."

She hangs up without a goodbye, leaving you to deal with the realization that the podium is indeed VER RIC GAS on your own. Your eyes are glued to the Red Bull and McLaren drivers, blatantly ignoring the one in the white suit as the anthems play and the champagne is sprayed, turning away to busy yourself with making coffee when Daniel hands his liquid filled race boot to third place.

You weren't quite sure how you were supposed to watch what you said to Max- there was no reason to in your mind. Max was your next closest friend on the grid and you had every right to congratulate him if you wanted to.

Resolute in your decision, you text Max and Daniel a quick congratulations before shutting off the TV and closing your laptop.

Max's insane custom ringtone he'd selected for himself nearly makes you jump out of your skin when it blares from your phone.

"Hey great race-"

"Did you see it? I wasn't sure if you'd watch it- did you see my move on Hamilton when he tried to get past me?" He was talking a mile a minute like he was still out on track. "I was like- and then Dan tried to overtake me on the final lap and I was like no way! And then-"

"Max," you chime in, dragging out the 'a' with a sing-song voice. "You're rambling."

"Oh right. Yeah but I made it! Led every lap and finished with another win."

"That's great." You force as much enthusiasm in the words as possible, trying to match his chaotic energy. "You did great. I know it probably doesn't mean much, but I'm proud to be your friend. You beat a world champ!"

"It means a lot-" 

"Who's that?"

You stiffen at the familiar cadence. You had assumed Max was back in the garage when he called, but he must have still been in the podium room. You could picture him in his race suit, smudges of grease and dirt staining the pristine white. Beads of sweat probably ran down his neck, begging to be brushed away by your tongue. 

"Uh, no one," Max says in a lame attempt to cover up his digression. "I gotta go," he whispers to you. 

"Let me talk-"

"Wait don't," you start, but the call ends abruptly and you blink. You stare down at your phone, completely dumbfounded. Of course his instinct would be to talk to you, to share the euphoria of a podium with you. It was the first victory in three years he wouldn't have you to celebrate with.

It was only a matter of time until his resolve popped like the cork on his champagne.

**********

Pierre's phone is in his hand as soon as Max hangs up. He hefts his trophy in the other, a wild grin on his sweaty face as he snaps a picture. He makes sure he's the only one in the frame, shamelessly wanting himself to be the center of your attention.

"Mate," Daniel pipes up, catching his eye, "you think that's a good idea?" 

Pierre sighs, cutting the Australian a glare. "I'm just trying to fill her in."

"Wasn't your plan to give her space?"

"It's been a week, isn't that long enough?"

"Take it from me, sometimes it takes months for someone to figure things out. Hell, you know how long it took me to sort through my feelings for-"

"I know," Pierre cuts in. "I know. I just- a snap can't hurt can it? C'mon, I just got a podium! If it goes bad I can blame it on the post race jitters."

Daniel holds up his hands and shrugs. "You're a grown man. Do what you want."

Pierre studies the photo, scrutinizing the way his hair was plastered to his head and the awkward way he'd posed to keep anyone but himself out of the frame. It's his genuine smile that he knows will do you in, and ultimately the reason he sends it.

His phone is a lead weight clutched in his grip as he winds through the paddock, constantly stopped by vips and team members congratulating him. None of what anyone says registers, he just tries his best to match their mood and sputter praises about his team's contributions to his podium. 

The snap you finally send back is only from the eyes up, but it's enough. He's surrounded by people in his driver room, but for ten seconds it might as well have just been him staring at a sliver of your face on a screen.

The tiny lines at the corners of your shining eyes tell him you're smiling, which is a step in the right direction even if you won't let him see your entire face. It's enough to reignite the hope that slumbered in his chest while waiting for you to pull the trigger and make a move.

He sends back a video of the people in the room, who cheer when they realize they're being filmed. 'Wish you were here,' is what he captions it and sends it without giving himself a chance to overthink.

Ten minutes pass with no reply.

The beer he’s already consumed have given him a pleasant buzz as well as an excuse to make a bad decision or two. He takes another video of the room to post to his Instagram story, 'Missing you' written in the lower left corner.

Fuck, he hopes you'll see it and regret leaving him on read. Instead all he gets is a text from Charles chastising him for stirring up drama.

Really Pierre?

Blame it on the alcohol, he texts back. 

I know you aren’t drunk. You can’t form a coherent sentence when you are.

Guess i gotta drink more then

Pierre doesn’t turn anyone bearing alcohol away. He's two celebratory shots deep when Daniel finds him sulking in a corner. "You've got my girl texting me freaking out over your story. I've seen it and I gotta agree with her. Was that really necessary?"

"She left me on read," Pierre says like that was enough explanation. His head was spinning and it was getting hard to keep the room upright. "And it's the truth. I miss her like hell. I want her here. She was supposed to come, you know? I was gonna have her fly in with me on the jet. She doesn't start class again until June. I had this whole week planned out. I was gonna show her Texas- she’s from New York and..." 

He trails off when he notes Dan’s pitying smile. Daniel sighs and runs a hand through his curls. "I know. I get it, okay? I know it's hard but you can't force it. You've gotta let her come back on her own, all you're doing now is pushing her away."

He was fucking clueless when it came to these things. He'd had you for a few precious moments and now that he'd lost you he didn't know how to act. His mind was running on hazy autopilot; he barely knew which way was up, let alone did he trust himself to make any sort of important decision.

He stares down at the shot he'd been handed at some point before throwing it back. The cheap whiskey burns his throat but he barely registers the sting. "Should I take it down?"

"She already saw it," Daniel says gently, as if he anticipates how bad the fuck up will hurt. And it does. It hits him like a tire wall at two hundred kph, knowing that you were probably ranting or crying on the phone with Daniel’s girlfriend. "But yeah, that's probably best. People are already wondering what happened between you two, no need to throw fuel on the fire."

"You're probably right-" Pierre cuts off when Charles arrives with a grimace on his face. He shakes his head and gives his friend’s shoulder a squeeze. 

"For once I'm not the dumb one."

"You're a dick, you know that right?" Daniel says, allowing Pierre to delete the post. It takes him a few tries before he gets it down, but undeniably rumors will be circulating in the morning if they weren’t already.

"Honestly what were you thinking?" Charles demands, edging towards full blown yelling. "I told you to leave her be. The gossip stemming from this isn’t gonna help.”

The last thing he needed was someone else telling him how stupid his decision had been. At least Daniel had the decency to show sympathy. 

"Honestly?" Pierre responds with the same intensity, his anger flaring. "Honestly, Charles, I was thinking that she was happy for me but was too afraid to take the leap. She haunts me. Every second I’m awake I have to force myself away from her. Even when I’m asleep I can’t get away from her. So I don’t know, maybe I wanted to haunt her too."

“This isn’t the way you win her back and you know it.”

“I know!” Pierre throws up his hands. “But what else am I supposed to do? She won’t talk to me. She has no problem talking to Max or Daniel but apparently she draws the line at me.”

“You know it’s not-” Daniel's eyes flick to his phone and he fights back a grin. All it does is remind Pierre that he lost the person that could bring that sort of smile to his own face. "Fellas I wish I could stay and help but I gotta get going. Charles, I think Pierre needs another drink." He slaps five American dollars in the Monegasque's hand. "First one is on me."

Pierre is too deep in a spiral to care when his friend drags him from the party to a bar just south of the circuit. Somehow it was within walking distance; the floor was sticky and the lighting was for shit but he didn't care.

Pierre's focus was on downing shot after shot, erasing the broken image of you his mind had conjured up. He never should have posted the story. It only served to feed into what the media had been speculating for the past week and dredged up more tension between you.

Pierre stops checking his phone two shots later. The liquor provides a wet blanket over his senses, dousing him in cold water and scrambling his brain. He could barely remember his own name, but yours still lived in the corner of his mind.

Even drunk, he refused to forget you.

Two hours and who knows how much alcohol later, Charles helps Pierre back to his hotel room.

Pierre falls asleep as soon as he hits the mattress, head too blurry to dredge up memories of you.

[retrievablememories]

the assistant | doyoung (m)

title: the assistant pairing: sub!doyoung x black!reader genre: smut request: “Sub Doyoung that works under a (Black) woc as an assistant. He gets turned on when she bosses him around and ends up in a situation where he can’t hide his feelings anymore. Hopefully it’s a smut.” word count: 4.5k warnings: oral (female receiving), handjob, dirty talk, public masturbation/sexual activities, humiliation kink *without insulting names*, dom!female/sub!male a/n: this came out a bit longer than i expected. the title’s a bit generic but the other one i had felt corny. i hope i didn’t make the reader too mean here lol

Taking a job as your assistant over a year and a half ago was both an easy and hard decision—though mostly easy.

Doyoung needed the money, so he wasn’t going to turn down the offer. And he had the skills for it, which he wasn’t going to let go to waste. But he wasn’t sure how he was going to handle the prospect of being sexually attracted to his boss.

It wasn’t just your looks, although they certainly helped. It was your air of authority and the way you knew how to get people to like you or do whatever you requested of them. There was practically no one you were afraid to call out if necessary, regardless if they were a lower-level employee or a fellow boss at the firm. You liked things to be done a certain way, and you wasted little time with hesitating like many others on the job did when they needed a task completed. 

He could tell your demeanor from that first interview, and it made him sweat. It pleased him and compelled him to achieve whatever he could during the hiring process to get close to you. Doyoung found it hard to get you off his mind, thinking about you from the time he left that interview to the hour before he fell asleep that night. He was undeniably pleased when he got the job, but even more happy that he’d be getting to work for someone like you.

Doyoung is a smart man, and he takes pride in a job well done. However...he’s not above making the occasional mistake just to hear you reprimand him. Nothing big enough to seriously impact your business, and never too often, or you’d probably have him kicked out. But every once in a while, he lets something “slip” his careful eye so he can hear your irritated voice or see your pretty eyes roll.

Sometimes he thinks he might be one of the strangest men on Earth to get enjoyment from things that would normally make others feel embarrassed and upset, but he doesn’t mind it too much. He knows what he likes, which is at least more than many others can say.

He’s not sure what he’d do if you knew about his secret, or about how he feels things specifically for you that an employee should never feel towards their boss. But he’ll continue to indulge as long as he can keep it to himself.

“I hope you’re ready for the presentation today.” You tell Doyoung this as you both take the elevator to your department floor. The only practical answer you expect is a yes, and he knows this. Thankfully for him, he’s not one to disappoint. “You’ve organized all the data I sent over to you and added it to the presentation, right?”

“Of course. Have I ever failed you?” 

You sigh, raising your eyebrows. “Those errors on your reports say otherwise, no matter how small they are. Don’t get too cocky about your track record yet, everyone messes up sooner or later.”

“Sounds like you don’t have any faith in me.” Doyoung laughs.

“Doyoung. If I didn’t have any faith in you, I wouldn’t have hired you.” You pat his shoulder good-naturedly, and he relishes that touch for a moment. “But I also know how humans work.” You both walk off the elevator when it finally stops, and Doyoung acknowledges a few people who pass by, though his eyes are always subtly drawn back to you. 

The conference room is almost full with the other bosses and higher-ups who have gathered for today’s meeting. It’s a panel, so there will be a few more people who go before and after you.

When it’s your turn to go up, you take the USB Doyoung’s given you with the presentation on it. 

The first few slides look as they should, which you pretty much expected, but you’re still glad to see that Doyoung got everything right.

You flip to the next slide of the presentation for the data and start going through it, but you quickly realize that something is wrong. None of the numbers match what you remember reviewing for this year’s report. You stop and blink for a few moments, trying to register what you’re seeing. Doyoung sits up in his chair, and his body goes stiff as he realizes his mistake. He knows for sure he imported the data into the PowerPoint, but he must not have been paying enough attention to which data he was using; all of this information is from last year.

There are a few disgruntled sounds from the meeting attendees, some born from secondhand embarrassment, others confusion, and some others annoyance. You clasp your hands together, putting on a fake smile as you regard the other members of the room. “Well...looks like there’s been a mistake.”

The meeting organizer speaks up. “We can continue on with the others and schedule your segment for another day. We’re all on a tight schedule right now, so I’m afraid there isn’t enough time to do this over today.” He gives you a regretful look, and you nod in response. You just hope you don’t get reprimanded for it too badly later.

Doyoung is sweating bullets when you return to your seat next to him. He glances over at you, though he can’t look you directly in the eye. You don’t even give him a glance back, instead keeping your eyes straight ahead on the next person’s presentation. He doesn’t need you to look at him, though; he already knows from your posture and energy that you’re pissed.

The rest of the meeting goes by fast. Maybe too fast. Everyone starts talking among themselves and packing up their things to leave, and you go to the organizer to set another date for your presentation. Doyoung waits until you’re finished with the other man before daring to approach you.

He stumbles over his words as he tries to speak. “Y/N, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

You give him a look and brush him off as neutrally as you can without drawing the attention of the others filing out of the room.“Let’s talk in my office.”

The walk to your office seems to last forever, though it’s only a minute or two in actuality. Doyoung doesn’t know what to think—will you decide to get rid of him? This is the first major mistake he’s made, but he is not so confident that you’ll be very forgiving with the past errors he’s made.

“Close the door behind you,” you say when you finally get in the office. Doyoung does as instructed and only sits down after you gesture for him to take the chair in front of your desk. After you’re both settled, you sigh and put your head in your hands.

You keep that position for a while, which makes him nervous. He isn’t sure if he’s supposed to speak first, so he keeps quiet and waits to see what you’ll do.

Possibly the weirdest part of all this is the thread of excitement that still pulses through him. He’s anxious to know what you’ll say to him, whether good or bad. He’s not ecstatic at the thought of losing his job, no, but he also can’t deny that he likes hearing you raise your voice at him.

You lift your head to look at him, and he feels immobilized underneath your gaze. “I should have you fired, you know that?” He tenses at that. “After making such a huge mistake in front of the upper management, and having to reschedule the damn meeting…everyone spent their precious time coming out here today, pulling themselves away from their own busy schedules...”

Your words make Doyoung panic a bit on the inside, yet they also stoke the fires of his attraction to you. He curses himself in his head. He’s usually better than this at keeping himself under control, but something about your pointed anger today is speaking directly to a deep part of him.

“Whenever I tell you to do something related to the job, you should do it.”

“I know, o-of course. It was a mistake, but—”

“But? Did you really not realize the information you had was from last year?” 

“I-it slipped my attention.” Doyoung can feel heat creeping up his neck, but also rushing farther down below the belt. He’s only seen you this upset before on a few other occasions, and none of them were directed at him. He’s a little ashamed to say that it’s still turning him on, though he also realizes the gravity of his mistake. “I know I can’t make up for what’s already happened, but I’ll do better.”

“You definitely will do better, because you’re staying overtime to fix it.” He figured that much. “There’s not enough time to deal with this mess now.” You sit back in your desk chair, crossing your arms. “Don’t look so anxious about it. I’m still pissed at you, obviously, but I’m not letting you go. There are a lot of fools around here, and I don’t need any of them trying to become my assistant if you leave.”

Doyoung’s shoulders deflate a little from the relief he feels at that, with some of the built-up tension leaving his body. There is still another uncomfortable problem left, though—the bulge in his pants. His face turns redder with the knowledge that he’s gotten hard in front of you, with the only thing to hide it being the folder of documents he’s holding.

You lean over the desk a little, examining your assistant closely. “Doyoung, you’re turning beet red. The hell? Are you getting sick or something?” 

“N-no! I’m not sick, really.” His hands tighten around the folder as he says this, and he tries to look at you as nonchalantly as he can manage, though the eye contact still sends his pulse throbbing.

You stare at him for a few more seconds, trying to read him and getting nothing but more nervousness. “You know what…” You shake your head. “Just go home early and do your overtime tomorrow. You clearly need a break to pull yourself together.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. I don’t need you messing up any more of my work if you’re this flustered. Go on, go.”

Doyoung nods, wondering how he’s going to get out of the chair without making it too obvious that he’s sprung a hard-on from your reprimands. You sigh and press your fingers to your temples for a long moment, and he takes this opportunity to stand up and try to zip out of the room before you can open your eyes again.

“Wait. Give me the folder.”

He freezes with his back to you.

“The-the folder?”

“Yes, Doyoung, that folder you’re holding right there.” You roll your eyes. “Come on. Don’t you need to be getting home?”

“Right, yes…” Doyoung hesitates for a moment longer before passing the folder to you, then he quickly covers himself by crossing his hands in front of his crotch. The movement isn’t as natural as he’d like it to be. You raise an eyebrow at his stiff demeanor, but you don’t say anything immediately. He takes that as his cue to escape, and he goes to the door as calmly as possible.

“Remember your overtime tomorrow,” you call out as he opens the door to your office. He turns his head to look back at you, nodding in response. He can’t read the expression on your face, and he doesn’t stick around much longer to find out what you could possibly be thinking.

Once Doyoung gathers his things, he sneaks off to the men’s bathroom. His hands shake a little as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants, pulling his hard cock out and gripping his shaft tightly. A tiny moan slips out, though he quickly silences his voice as he begins stroking himself.

All your words from earlier circle around in his head as he gets himself off, his breaths labored and echoing slightly around the walls of the bathroom stall. He imagines that you’re the one pleasuring him, your fingers wrapping around his dick as you laugh at how hard and desperate he is for you. Maybe if he’s good, you’ll let him cum in your mouth.

He’s learned how to get himself off quickly and quietly in the work bathrooms by now, so it only takes a few more minutes before he’s spilling over his fingers, the sound of your name passing through his lips almost inaudibly. After he cleans himself up and flushes the toilet, he spends a few more minutes in the stall to calm his mind and take some deep breaths.

“Ugh…fuck,” he mumbles to himself. The thought of doing overtime doesn’t thrill him, and he still feels shitty about making such a big mistake, but there’s nothing left to do except fix his errors.

Friday goes like any other workday, and Doyoung doesn’t notice anything unusual from you that would’ve indicated you knew what his “problem” was yesterday. He’s a little relieved about that, but he’s still not reassured enough to disregard the incident.

The day passes by more quickly than Doyoung would like, and soon it’s already time for regular office hours to end—and his extra work to begin. He seats himself at his desk, nodding goodbye to the last few coworkers who straggle out of the room. He didn’t see you leave your office, but he figures you must already be gone because the room is dark.

For a few minutes, it’s just Doyoung working by himself. He’s barely gotten started with the bulk of the document fixes when he hears rustling and a door opening. He wonders if it’s someone else doing overtime or somebody who forgot their belongings. What he doesn’t expect to see is you walking towards his desk.

“I thought you were going home?” Doyoung asks, looking up at you curiously. His hands pause over the keys.

“I am; don’t think I want to stay here all night. But I need to talk to you about something first.” You cross your arms, looking at Doyoung from behind his computer monitor.

A cold sweat breaks out on his skin, though he tries to keep his face neutral. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Your behavior after the presentation yesterday. In my office.”

As he thought, there was no way he could’ve hidden it or gotten away with it. He hangs his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “Y/N, please. Forgive—”

“Wait. Let me finish first.”

Doyoung stops talking immediately. He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and watches you carefully to see what you’ll do.

“I have enough sense to figure out that you were far from sick, but I sent you away to save us both the embarrassment of you nutting in your pants.” His fingers twitch at your words, but he remains silent as he wearily waits for you to continue speaking. At this point, he’s unsure which direction this will go in; will you decide to go ahead and fire him after you said you wouldn’t? Will you scold him and then pretend like none of it ever happened? “You’re crazy as hell, you know that?”

He can’t meet your eyes anymore and instead looks at where his hands still rest on the desk. He stays quiet, mostly because he’s unsure how to respond in any justifiable way.

“You’re acting like a scared puppy now, but you were pretty damn shameless yesterday. Getting hard in front of your boss, really?” You reach out to him. He doesn’t know what your intention is, but he surely doesn’t anticipate you grabbing his tie. You’re not even trying to pull him closer; you simply hold the fabric in your hand, passing your thumb over its patterns. “Do you think any of that was appropriate?” you ask, your voice calm.

“N-no, it’s not.”

“Don’t think I didn’t see you practically sprinting to the bathroom, too. Are you gonna tell me what you did in there, or do I have to guess?”

Doyoung’s cheeks are blazing again, and he can hardly believe that you’re questioning him like this, or that he’s actually about to admit to it.

“I...I, um. I...jerked off.”

“Jerked off to the thought of me. Right?” He can only nod, keeping his eyes firmly on your hand—which is still holding his tie—instead of your face. “And do you think that’s appropriate?” He shakes his head no.

“Good answer. But you’ve also forgotten that I can do what I want, too. Do you think it’s fair that you’re the only one around here who gets to have any fun?” Now you pull him closer, and you lean forward to meet him halfway. The implications of your words have him risking a glance up at you, surprised that this is your answer.

“Fun?”

Any other thought he might have promptly disappears when you kiss him. He’s taken entirely off guard by your actions, and with his walls down, he lets a particularly needy moan slip out. He likes the feel of your lipstick smearing slightly against his mouth, and most of all, your lips themselves.

Doyoung is embarrassed to be getting hard from a single kiss, but whenever it comes to you, he’s gotten it up for much less. Now that he’s had this one taste of contact, he wants you to touch him more, wherever you see fit. It doesn’t much matter as long as your hands are on him in some way. He leans forward minutely, kissing you a little deeper and wanting to push his tongue into your warm mouth.

You part from him as soon as you feel him push closer, though you still keep a grip on his tie. “This is gonna go my way. Got it? If you don’t want this, say it now and I’ll leave.”

“No, I—stay, please. I want this.” His voice comes out more pleadingly than he meant for it to, but he realizes he’s not really concerned about that as long as you understand how much he really does want this.

You move away from Doyoung and he’s momentarily alarmed that you’re going to leave anyway, but you only shrug your coat off and step out of your heels, leaving them strewn on the office floor. You push him away from the desk in his rolling chair so there’s enough space for you to enter his cubicle and sit comfortably on his desk.

Doyoung’s eyes drop to your legs, which are shiny and smooth under your skirt and most likely just as soft as they look. “Get out of the chair and on your knees,” you tell him. He does so, and you kick the rolling chair away so it’s just you and Doyoung, you sitting on his desk and him kneeling in front of you.

“If you want to make up to me for that embarrassment yesterday, you’ll have to do a lot more than fixing a presentation.” You spread your legs a bit, your skirt riding up as you do, and Doyoung’s eyes hyperfocus on the gift that’s waiting between your thighs. His mouth waters a bit at the thought of finally getting to taste you. “So, don’t keep me waiting. Like I said, I’m not staying here all night.”

Doyoung nods and brings his hands up to the sides of your thighs, feeling buzzed at how he’s touching you in a place he’s never been before. He’d like to take his time peeling off your blouse and skirt, exposing your nude form to his mouth and hands and cock that would like to do nothing but worship you, but he hasn’t been given that much permission. So he keeps within his boundaries and hikes your skirt up more so he can reach your underwear to pull it off.

Your underwear, to his surprise, already has a considerable wet spot on it. It makes his dick throb to know you’re as eager for this as he is, even if you don’t necessarily express it. When you notice him staring at your panties, you grab the hand that’s holding your garments and push it into his face, making him smell your scent. “If you like it so much…”

The smell of you appeals to him on a visceral, primal level. His hands return to your thighs with renewed enthusiasm, gripping your body and pulling you closer to his wanting mouth.

The first stroke of his tongue between your lips makes you shudder, and it makes Doyoung moan out loud. He pushes his tongue into you as his nose nudges your clit, wanting to have more of you as you leak onto him. You grab his hair, though not hard enough to hurt, as you push his face closer into you and arch your hips up.

He responds to your actions by bringing his mouth back up to your clit, enveloping it and sucking it fervently. He doesn’t think to bring his fingers into the mix, as consumed as he is with simply tasting you right now, and your body’s reaction says you are more than content with letting him work his mouth on you.

“Doyoung…” The way you speak his name is surprisingly gentle, much unlike he’s heard anyone else say it before—even previous lovers. Maybe he believes it to be so because of how wrapped up he is in you. He tries not to read into it and get his hopes up, instead focusing on pleasuring you.

His cock strains uncomfortably against his pants, though he ignores it to keep licking into you. There seems to be no limit to how much wetness he can coax out of you. The small cubicle, and the office itself, is quiet except for the subdued hum of computer machinery and Doyoung’s mouth sucking your pussy.

The muscles in your legs flex underneath his fingertips as you get closer to releasing. Your hand slips to the back of his neck, caressing the heated skin there as Doyoung pushes you higher and higher until you’re cumming in his mouth. Your legs tense and try to close around his head as you moan softly, and Doyoung accepts the sensation of being caged in by you. Everything down here is hot and wet and delicious.

You are satisfied and properly spent after your climax, but Doyoung is still hard and you’re not quite done playing with him yet. “Stand up.”

He does so and watches with bated breath as you undo his pants and bring his dick out. It’s already dripping precum and flushed with arousal, but you decide that isn’t enough lubrication and carefully spit on his member to make your strokes smoother. His knees almost give way at seeing your pretty mouth so close to his dick, and he has to grab onto the cubicle wall to steady himself.

“Y/N…” His voice shakes as he speaks your name. Your hand moving across his shaft seems too good to be true, and he wants so much for you to take him into your mouth or even let him press in between your legs. But he certainly can’t deny that being touched this way is ridiculously good, too. You only concentrate on his dick for a little while, but your eyes soon venture up to his face, with his bangs sticking to his forehead from sweat.

“Do you like that?”

“I-I do. So much.”

“So easily satisfied, aren’t you…” you murmur, not really caring if he replies or not. You grip him a little more tightly, and he can hardly stop the whimper that results from it. “What do you do when you’re at home? Nevermind—I bet you hug your pillow and jack yourself off thinking it’s me. How embarrassing, Doyoung.”

You continue on, stroking him faster all the while. “Seriously, when’s the last time you had a warm body? You’re so sensitive.” You slide your thumb over the slit of his cock, and he reacts by pushing his hips closer to you and moaning loudly. There’s no one left on this floor but you two, so he isn’t too afraid of being vocal here. “Don’t tell me you’ve been holding out for me. Maybe I‘ll let you fuck me someday, though...you seem like the kind of man who knows what to do with a wet pussy, don’t you?”

You can guess when he’s about to come from his increasingly loud moans and how he has to hold your shoulder to keep himself upright. When Doyoung finally climaxes, you angle his dick so his cum splashes all over his shirt and suit jacket. You don’t stop stroking him until he whines out loud and nudges your hand away from his overstimulated cock. Some of his cum has dripped on your hand, too, and you wipe that on his pants. Lucky for you—and not so lucky for him—he‘s wearing light gray today.

It takes him a minute to recover from his orgasm, and you watch him with a devious smile as he regains his senses. You’re even more delighted when he looks down and sees the mess he’s made of himself.

“Y/N, my clothes…” You’re already standing up from the desk and pulling your underwear back on, along with your coat and shoes.

“That’s too bad, isn’t it? Gonna stain, too. You’ll have to walk out of here like that, and let’s not forget how you always take the subway on Fridays to save gas money.” Once you’ve tidied yourself back up, you give him another pitiful look. “Well, see you at work on Monday, okay?”

Doyoung can only watch your retreating figure as you walk to the elevator and get on, giving him one last amused wave before disappearing to the ground floor.

Perhaps the wildest part of it all, despite his soiled clothes and the night of work still ahead of him, is that he’d do it all over again if you asked.

[stevesnailbat]

what the future holds | steve harrington

REQUEST: hey! can you write a fic where reader feels really bad over future/college/career stuff and steve catches her crying over that and comforts her? thank you 💗

summary: Steve comforts you after finding you worrying about your future plans.

warnings: mentions of anxiety

word count: 1.4K

a/n: this is very self-indulgent but I'm not sorry about it <3 hope you all enjoy!

An English paper due by Friday. Three exams and two quizzes this week. Ten scholarship applications due by the end of the month. A job interview next week.

It feels like you have an endless to-do list and that you’re adding two more items to it every time you cross one off. It’s overwhelming, to say the least. You haven’t gotten a break from life in months, it had been almost half a year now since you’d had more than three days in a row to yourself. Life isn’t slowing down any time soon, so you can’t either. 

You can’t help but feel hopeless, like there’s nothing you can do to keep up with everything whizzing past you. It’s hard not to feel like you’re so far behind compared to your classmates, or that you’ll never be as successful as them. Everyone around you seems to keep it together so well, you spend your days fixated on how to get yourself into that routine but it never seems to happen.

The list in front of you as you sit at your desk is daunting, looking at the fifteen tasks to tick off in the next ten hours makes your stomach twist. It’s eight in the morning and—for some reason—you’re up. Being productive is the only way you know how to feel satisfied anymore, nothing else gives you the same gratification. You wonder if you’ll even get past the first four before your anxiety gets the best of you, but you shove your feelings down and start to get to work.

It only takes a few hours for you to feel completely defeated. You’ve been distracted the whole time, the only thought on your mind the whole time is how you can’t compare to everyone around you. You tell yourself your grades aren’t good enough, you’re not competitive enough, you’ll never stand out in the scholarship applications or the job interviews. Everyone else with your major and career track will always seem better than you, and you feel like giving up.

Focusing on the four-page paper in front of you is impossible now, so you opt for distracting yourself with a nap. It seems like the easy way out, sleeping the feelings and doubts away. But, it’s never that easy. You never fall asleep fast enough and your thoughts consume you, anxiety taking over as you think of everything you should be doing instead of sitting in bed. It’s even harder to get yourself out of bed once you’ve gotten there, so you stay.

The tears come soon after, spilling down your cheeks as you run through your to-do list in your mind over and over again. You don’t really know how much time passes from your bed, but you know you’re wasting it. Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear the front door to your apartment open, signaling that your boyfriend is there. There’s not much you can do to stop him from seeing you like this, but you try to cover it all up by wiping your tears and going back to your desk.

When Steve knocks on the bedroom door, he sees you at your desk but knows immediately that you haven’t actually been doing any work. The tear-stained sleeve of your sweatshirt and puffy eyes are the first things he notices when you look up at him. You furrow your brows at him when he frowns at you, setting his bag down on the floor before walking over to you. 

“What?” you ask with a confused frown, but you know exactly why he’s looking at you like that.

“What’s wrong?” Steve questions while standing in front of you at your desk chair, reaching out to run his thumb along your cheek gently. 

“Nothing?” you lie, but he gives you an incredulous look and you sigh. “It’s nothing, Steve.”

“Are you sure? Because this kinda says differently.” he implores, tugging at your soaked sleeve. 

“I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” you snap, pulling your arm back as you curl your legs up against your chest. 

Steve watches quietly as you rub your hands across your eyes, trying to hide the tears you just blinked away. His heart aches at the sight of you struggling, but isn’t sure how he can really help. He reaches for your hand again and jerks his chin towards the bed, motioning for you to come with him. Once he gets you to stand up, he sits on the end of your bed and pulls you into his lap, his hand running through your hair slowly.

“Y’know you can talk to me, right?” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your forehead as you nod. “Then will you tell me what’s on your mind right now?”

You look up at him with teary eyes and a quivering lip, blinking a few times as he strokes your hair. You open your mouth to speak, but only a small whimper escapes your lips as tears finally spill from your eyes. Steve’s gaze softens at the sight, pulling you closer to him as you bury your face in his chest. 

“I—I can’t do it.” you cry, voice muffled by Steve’s shirt. “I’m so scared that I’m gonna—gonna fail, Steve.”

He frowns at your words and looks over to your desk, noticing the disarray and unfinished to-do list on the table top. Even looking at the list you wrote concerns him, you’re spreading yourself too thin and it’s starting to show. Steve listens to ramble about wanting to quit and how you think you won’t ever succeed for a moment, but can’t take hearing it for too long. He finally reaches down, hooking his finger under your chin to make you look up at him. His eyes are sad looking back at your teary ones, you can tell he’s hurting for you.

“I don’t really know the exact words to say to you right now, but I do know that you’re not a failure and that you’re so—so smart.” he says softly, sighing as you shake your head in disbelief. “Hey, please. Please, I want you to feel better.” he pleads, a desperate look on his face as he speaks. “I just want you to see what I see, okay?”

“Everyone else is doing so much better than me. I can’t compete, Steve.” you whine, shaking your head once again. 

“Yes, you can! You’re just putting too much on your plate at once, it’s making you stress out more than you need to be.” he explains, pointing to the to-do list on your desk. “You don’t need to do that much stuff in one day to be successful, I know all of that isn’t due today. You’re already so successful without all the cramming and shit.”

“I—I just don’t stand out like the rest of the people in my classes.” you say, leaning into his touch as he cups your cheek. “They’re all getting job offers and internships and I—I know I’m not gonna be able to compete.”

“Please, stop saying that.” Steve says, shaking his head at you. “You are just as good—honestly probably better than most of the people in your classes. I wish you’d see that.”

“You don’t have to say that, Steve.” you say quietly. 

“I’m not just saying it to make you feel better, if that’s what you’re thinking.” he replies. “It’s the truth, you’re amazing.”

“You mean it?” you question, looking up at him with hopeful eyes, needing the reassurance more than anything.

“Of course I do, you’re the smartest person I know.” he says with a genuine smile, pressing a kiss to your lips. “An absolute genius.”

“Okay, now you’re pushing it.” you giggle, wiping some rogue tears from your cheeks as he leans down to kiss you again. 

“I’m being serious! You’re my beautiful, successful genius.” he chuckles, staring down at you adoringly. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Steve.” you say, blushing at his kind words. 

“How does this sound? We can go catch a movie at the theater and then go to that diner downtown that you like. Just forget the real world and our responsibilities for a little bit. Then when we come back, we’ll work out some kind of plan for you and I’ll help make sure you aren’t stressing yourself out too much.”

“That sounds great.” you say with a grin. “Thank you, Steve.”

“Anything for you, baby.”

taglist (join here!): @sourapplebaby @harringtown @nxncywheeler @charmed-asylum @heart-eye-harrington @daddystevee @a-magey @lemonypink @igotmadskills @ilovebucketbarnes @simplesammyx @willowrose99 @scooprtroopr @stranger-noah @thegirlthatsfalling @beverlyparkerr @multi-fandom-freak-lol​

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 267: My Name Is

Previously on BnHA: Hawks stabbed Twice in the back of the head. Twice stabbed another guy in the back of the head. Everyone’s just running around stabbing or being stabbed. I should probably clarify that Twice actually died, because this is a shounen manga, so sometimes you have to clarify that this particular stabbing was actually fatal. Not just one of those flesh wound stabbings. Anyway so it was super sad, and now Dabi’s gonna face off with the sexy scarred murderous Hawks, and Toga and Compress are also going to be feeling a bit stabby after all this probably, and so that’s the general mood here I guess. I kind of need a break now so I’m wondering if we’re gonna cut to any of the kids. Because if we stick around Horikoshi may actually have to give us Dabi flashbacks. God forbid.

Today on BnHA: Tokoyami has a flashback to when Hawks told him he’s weak to being set on fire. This terrible thought weighs on his mind as he and the other lads and lasses of U.A.’s child soldier vanguard are escorted away from the battle via Fatgum and his absolute goat of a quirk. Dabi is all “:D you killed Twice, I’m gonna set you on fire repeatedly now” and Hawks is all “ffff no that’s my weakness also WHO ARE YOU” and WE GET SOME HAWKS FLASHBACKS?! and then Dabi is all “:DDDDDD [CENSORED]” and it’s literally fucking censored fuck my life. but also !!! because he actually fucking said it, though?? He really went and revealed it just like that?? And now Hawks knows, and he’s all shocked, and Dabi goes to kill him afterwards but TOKOYAMI IS ALL “ON YOUR LEFT!!!!” and OH SHIT. Also Endeavor saves Miruko so DOUBLE OH SHIT. Oh my god. I’m sorry this summary is all over the place but I can barely type a coherent sentence now so just TAKE THESE EXCLAMATION POINTS AND GO!!! SPREAD THE WORD. BE FREE.

everyone before we begin I would just like to tell you about my discovery this week. I learned that when I type the word “Dabi” on my phone the next word that the keyboard predicts is “flashbacks.” google keyboard is on to me. so now the FBI and the CIA and whoever else google is selling all my data to all know. I can only imagine. “she seems to spend an inordinate amount of time talking about ‘Dabi flashbacks.’ what’s a Dabi.” I’ll tell you what a Dabi is. it’s a guy whose fucking flashbacks we never fucking get that’s what

anyway so let’s read this chapter whose spoiler tags have already been filling up my dashboard, which is always a good sign. who will die this week? Horikoshi please have mercy on us in light of recent real life global events. maybe you can just have everyone abruptly decide that they are all done fighting and want to go home

-- GOD BLESS US EVERYONE

who could have known, years ago when the very first mangaka was drawing the very first color page, that this medium would one day soar to such great heights. who could have imagined that we would one day be witness to this masterwork, this magnificent fucking triumph of a colored manga page. holy shit. I will cherish this always

for real you all think I’m joking but I genuinely don’t want to scroll down lol. let’s just stay with Miruko forever. where it is safe. and sexy. goddammit

OH SURE, THEY GIVE US HAWKS FLASHBACKS

anyways but lol

guys. we’ve been over this. fire is everyone’s weakness. just. I’m not quite sure people like Hawks and Kamui Woods actually grasp that. do they think normal people catch on fire and they’re just “oh, this is actually all right.” also, side note kids, please don’t use this answer if this ever comes up during a job interview

wow

what a gamechanging plan of action. don’t catch on fire. Toko write that down

WOW

you guys. YOU GUYS. IT GOT BETTER

who could have known, years ago when the very first mangaka was drawing the very first gag panel, that this format would one day ascend to such lofty summits. who could have envisaged that we would one day behold such a showpiece, such a grand fucking slam of a joke panel in a shounen manga

anyway Horikoshi sure does love his English portmanteaus. I’m kind of stunned by how great this is you guys. but getting back to more serious observations, all I can say is thank fucking god somebody is actually thinking of the children! nothing terrible had better happen to them or I swear!!

so Fatgum is explaining that the plan was to have them use their respective quirks to help take out a bunch of bad guys at once, and that the grown-ups will now proceed to rope them all in and capture them. and dammit, I was trying to avoid having to post the panel because it takes forever if I post a lot of them, but I just noticed Mt. Lady over there stomping fools in the background and so now I have no choice

A+ chapter so far you guys. 5 stars. keep it up

one-and-a-half year-old Kaminari Denki has already fallen asleep. he wishes he could live there. I wish I had the words to adequately convey how utterly delighted I have been by this entire “everyone rides around in Fatgum’s belly” mini-arc, which is now my favorite part of the entire series (as always with the exception of “Dear Midoriya I’m really sorry”)

and I also just really love the timing of it?? right after the “here’s that angst you ordered” emotional sobfest of the last chapter, we’re taking a quick break to cut back to the Fatgum Express (excuse me, Fataxi) just to keep things from getting too heavy. this is such an important balance to strike. please don’t let this arc get too dark, Horikoshi

oh shit

right, Dabi?? but I’ve had an entire week to process my feelings about it and I’m more or less good now! how are you

not particularly great, then

and also, fuck. so Horikoshi was gracious enough not to show Twice’s murdered body even though he confirmed he was indeed killed (so apologies to anyone who was still holding out hope. it sucks but at least we’ve got closure). first he cuts off the bottom of the panel, and then he has Dabi literally cremate him on the fucking spot. there’s really going to be nothing left at all of him or any of the clones. I’m just gonna sit here and try not to think about that or else I’ll get sad all over again

anyway, so also Hawks’s wings have been totally incinerated now it looks like, and he’s just barely yeeting himself out of the way with whatever he’s got left

boy this is getting rough

love how Horikoshi is avoiding showing Dabi’s face!! that was sarcasm by the way because I don’t love it! he pulls this shit all the time with Bakugou too! show us their emotions dammit!

anyway. how kind of Dabi to stomp out Hawks’s flames for him like that. you see. they’re still friends

HOLY SHIT

APPARENTLY IT IS??? I GUESS WE ALL GRIEVE DIFFERENTLY LMAO. SOME PEOPLE GET SAD AND CRY AND OTHERS JUST GET REALLY SCARY AND CRAZY

like. not to nitpick or anything, but your tear glands are actually located above your eyes. maybe he means his tear ducts. also I’m not a doctor or anything and I can barely name like three bones actually so maybe I should just shut up!

anyways though, out of courtesy let’s just take Dabi at his word that grinning like a deranged lunatic is a perfectly normal response to watching your friend get murdered by your sexy archenemy. who is to say

and what exactly is your dream again? to make Stain’s will a reality or something like that? so purging the world of false heroes I guess?

DAMMIT DABI FIRE IS HIS WEAKNESS

most people would at least scream, wouldn’t they? Hawks??? does that not hurt??!

DSFKJSL:DKGHLSDKGHL

no!! I won’t be fooled!! Horikoshi and Dabi flashbacks is like Wile E. Coyote and painting a fake tunnel onto a cliffside! don’t be conned by his deceitful forced perspective!

LOL YOU SEE

apparently this man really will do anything to keep us from getting a Dabi flashback, even if that means giving us Hawks flashbacks instead lmao. WELL SHOOT. OH DARN. POOR US. WE’LL JUST HAVE TO SETTLE try not to look too happy guys he can sense satisfaction

anyway so here’s baby Hawks

okay, so -- does fandom still hate Hawks. like, I haven’t checked the bnha tag much since this weekend so I don’t know if the general consensus is still “yeah he’s cancelled” or if we’re cooling down at all yet? anyway so I apologize if liking Hawks is still A Wrong Thing To Do, but just fyi he’s still adopted and I haven’t unadopted him and I love him unconditionally even though he’s in timeout. and so now that Baby Hawks has appeared to rival all other Baby Characters (BABY YODA WATCH YOUR SIX!!) with his lil wings and his Endeavor plush and his quiet lil nodding head, I just need you all to know that I would die for him without hesitation and that’s just how it is friends

(ETA: also, jesus christ. “Keigo-kun, you can say goodbye to your name from now on!" I’m surprised they didn’t assign him a fucking number. what the fuck. time for some grueling training, lab rat #184. better get ready. jesus. he’s like 7.)

sdlkfjLSDGHOSIDFOIOOIIO

THE MAN THAT -- WHAT. WELL HOT DAMN, TAKAMI THEORISTS! GO ON AND GIVE YOURSELVES A BIG PAT ON THE BACK. YOU EARNED IT.

snap. gotta calm down. too much hype all of a sudden. easy does it

OH ARE YOU KIDDING ME THAT’S IT??

noooo go back. fuck

and how the hell do you still have eyebrows, Hawks. how are you still even alive, let alone sexy. is fire your weakness?? is it really??! WELCOME TO BNHA THE MANGA WHERE ANYONE CAN SURVIVE ANYTHING. EXCEPT FOR BEING KILLED OFF-SCREEN AFTER WEEKS AND WEEKS OF BUILDUP

WHAT THE MONUMENTAL FUCK

HORIKOSHI WHERE ARE YOU I’M READY AND WILLING TO VIOLATE SOCIAL DISTANCING RIGHT NOW TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FACE SO COME ON

what the fuck. is this a Tarantino movie. or an Eminem song. anyway but we all know what he actually said though so let’s just scroll down and see how Hawks is going to take the news

oh my. I suddenly understand Dabi’s “grinning like a lunatic” reaction to witnessing a tragedy now. ohhhhhh that’s the good angst right there

so now Dabi says that if he wasn’t Hawks’s target in the beginning, then Hawks “would’ve been done for from the start”? ...what. lol what. am I just too tired to understand this you guys. I’m so confused

okay well I still have no fucking clue what that all meant but on the next panel he’s saying that Hawks shouldn’t have been focusing on Tomura or the League

is he suggesting that he has the power to bring down the hero system by revealing that he, the son of Endeavor, was made into a villain? am I reading into this right?

holy moses. I can’t believe this is really happening. this plotline is finally on the move oh my god I can’t even I’m getting way too excited I can’t??

HEY WHAT

well it matters to me you big melodramatic jerk!! don’t even pretend like you’re really gonna do it. I have zero fear of Hawks actually dying right now, not after that. there is way too much plot attached to him, gtfo with this fakeout shit

but more importantly, why the fuck are we cutting to Gigantomachia now oh shit. don’t tell me Fatgum got the babies out of there just in time

FUCK ME I NEARLY SCREAMED OUT LOUD

HE CAN BE ACTIVATED BY THE RECORDING OF AFO!! SOMEONE HAS THE FUCKING ON SWITCH IN THEIR HANDS OH SHIT, THERE’S THE DISASTER WE WERE ALL FUCKING WAITING FOR RIGHT THERE

WE’RE CUTTING BACK TO MIRUKO NOW??? CAN THIS CHAPTER GET ANY MORE HYPE MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS

let the bodies hit the floor let the bodies hit the floor let the bodies hit the floor let the bodies hit the [deep breath] FLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO --

OH NO!?

okay like any reasonable person I am very concerned by the implications of this. and yet a part of me just wants to focus entirely on the “AM I GETTING TIRED AFTER LOSING AN ARM AND A SHITLOAD OF BLOOD AND FIGHTING FIVE NOUMUS ALL BY MYSELF FOR LIKE AN HOUR? ...NAH.” you’re absolutely right Miruko that would be ridiculous

ARE YOU SERIOUS

either she’s about to die and she knows it, or SHE WAS JUST TOYING WITH THEM WHAAAAT. I genuinely don’t even know which it is?? but it better not be the former and it absolutely is the latter though

GOSH DARN THAT MIRUKO

THERE SHE GOES. MY CZARINA

excuse me did this guy just fucking impale her

SHE ONLY HAS THE ONE GOOD HAND LEFT LIKE CAN YOU PLEASE. can you fucking not, though?! and also I forgot that being impaled through the torso is another thing in this series that’s actually fatal. well fuck

(ETA: also he ripped out her hair!! look here you piece of shit I’m gonna --)

lmao but yeah, somehow

Horikoshi. if you kill off your one cool strong top ten female hero character. just so you know. I will. ...you know what, just don’t do it, how about that. just don’t

ohhhhhh I might be about to get really mad you guys. we’ll see. we’lllllll see

SON OF A BITCH

GODDAMMIT, OBVIOUSLY TOMURA CAN’T FUCKING DIE SO WHY DON’T YOU FUCK OFF WITH THIS ENTIRE SCENARIO YOU’RE PRESENTING TO US RIGHT NOW HORIKOSHI, HOW ABOUT THAT. fuck everything I can’t believe chapter 267 page 16 was the last page of the entire manga you guys. tell me I’m reading way too much into this

ffffff

you literally had the perfect chapter. Fataxi!! Baby Hawks!! censored Touya reveals!! why would you go and. ...

I knew it was a mistake reading past that amazing color page you guys

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OH MY GOD I DIDN’T SCREAM BUT I SAID “HA HA!” OUT LOUD?!

-- AND AGAIN!!!!!

YOU WANT SOME??? YOU WANT SOME?!?!

FUCK YES. EXCUSE ME WHILE I CRACK OPEN THE WINDOW AND SHOUT SOME EARNEST “WOOOOOOO!!”S DOWN UNTO THE CONFUSED STREETS BELOW

y’all. I was this close to cancelling every damn thing. you don’t even know. my god I think I was grinding my teeth there

“you know what this manga has had quite enough of as of last week? tragic deaths! you know what it has not had nearly enough of? dramatic last minute saves! you know what it hasn’t had any of? TOKOYAMI VERSUS DABI, A.K.A. YOUR NEW FAVORITE MATCH-UP OF ALL TIME, YOU’RE FUCKING WELCOME.” geez. calm down Horikoshi. be cool man be cool

you guys. it was almost perfect, and then it wasn’t, and then it very much was. my god. how did I not see that Tokoyami save coming with all that buildup in hindsight. clearly he saw the fire on page four and was all “oh no! his weakness”

only thing is. it’s yours too, bud. :/ don’t think I’ve forgotten how this all played out during the forest arc. and meanwhile on top of that we’ve got Gigantomachia about to have the rudest of awakenings. goddammit. why is everything so dangerous and so awesome thanks I love it but geez

[evansfm]

𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 –– 𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 .

every  morning  evan  woke  up  to  a  london  sky  that  refused  to  let  the  sun  in  ;  summer  was  drier  than  spring  ,  but  the  clouds  seemed  to  linger  year  round  .  .  .  not  that  she  minded  .  she  had  ,  after  all  ,  grown  up  in  county  dublin  ,  where  things  were  always  a  bit  damp  .  still  ,  the  lack  of  COLOR  could  be  draining  .  .  .  so  she  searched  for  it  in  unexpected  places  ,  creating  little  pockets  of  color  for  herself  in  a  rather  grayscale  world  .  golden  lights  strung  on  her  balcony  ,  isla’s  bright  red  hair  and  matching  smile  ,  an  array  of  bright  letters  boasting  NME  lining  a  wall  ––  covers  from  past  decades  ,  a  rainbow  rubik’s  cube  next  to  her  keyboard  ,  two  framed  photographs  perched  on  her  desk  .  the  first  seemed  like  forever  ago  ,  a  beaming  eloise  with  a  twin  on  either  side  ;  beck  on  the  left  ,  evan  on  the  right  ,  both  planting  kisses  on  her  cheek  one  valentine’s  day  years  and  years  ago  .  the  second  was  more  recent  ,  backstage  at  a  show  in  galway  ;  kieran  sat  in  his  chair  with  his  fingers  intertwined  with  evan’s  as  she  draped  her  arms  over  his  shoulders  from  behind  ,  chin  resting  on  top  of  his  curls  and  a  smile  that  looked  SOFT  compared  to  the  goofy  one  ruairi  wore  ,  looming  behind  her  with  his  chin  on  her  head  .  she  felt  warmth  every  t​​ime  she  looked  at  them  ,  but  there  was  always  a  tug  in  her  stomach  .  .  .  the  undeniable  feeling  of  something  missing  .  she  found  her  little  pockets  of  color  ,  but  they  still  seemed  muted  w​​ithout  the  people  she  loved  ––  the  PERSON  she  loved  .

their  schedules  had  begun  to  clash  ––  and  evan  hated  the  way  she  was  beginning  to  get  used  to  the  dull  ache  of  his  absence  .  distance  had  been  a  part  of  their  relationship  for  months  ,  but  the  time  zones  were  killing  her  .  they  couldn’t  always  make  time  for  hours  wasted  away  on  facetime  ;  she  couldn’t  always  fall  asleep  to  the  sound  of  his  voice  on  the  other  end  of  the  line  .  they  were  both  where  they  were  supposed  to  be  ,  chasing  their  dreams  together  ,  separately  .  .  .  but  evan  was  beginning  to  wonder  if  the  path  she  was  on  ––  the  desk  ,  the  deadlines  ,  the  distance  ––  was  actually  what  she  WANTED  .  there  was  a  lack  of  creative  control  at  nme  ;  she  was  a  part  of  a  greater  whole  ,  confined  to  a  desk  when  she  wasn’t  out  in  the  field  .  she  felt  restless  .  .  .  bored  ,  almost  .  and  with  her  most  recent  deadline  met  and  a  job  of  her  own  ––  evan  connely  ,  sans  nme  ––  waiting  at  the  end  of  the  week  ,  she  was  distracted  .  

“  WHAT  are  you  doing  ?  ”  isla  popped  up  behind  her  ,  coming  out  of  nowhere  to  look  over  her  shoulder  .

“  jesus  ,  ”  evan  startled  ,  nearly  dropping  the  plastic  puzzle  in  her  hand  ,  “  where  t’e  fuck  did  you  come  from  ?  ”

“  charlotte’s  office  .  answer  my  question  .  ”

“  playing  wit’  a  toy  ,  ”  she  held  up  the  half  solved  rubik’s  cube  ,  then  let  out  an  audible  sigh  as  isla  looked  unimpressed  ,  then  jutted  her  chin  towards  the  computer  screen  ,  “  trying  to  put  together  a  mood  board  for  t’is  gig  i’ve  got  wit’  saint  valentine  on  friday  .  ”

perfectly  shaped  auburn  brows  raised  ,  “  we  got  saint  valentine  ?  ”

“  no  ,  ”  evan’s  lips  lifted  into  the  faintest  smirk  ,  “  i  got  saint  valentine  .  ”

“  you’re  bloody  joking  .  shut  UP  ,  ”  isla  gasped  ,  rounding  to  her  side  of  the  table  desk  ,  just  to  roll  her  chair  around  ,  “  and  you  didn’t  fucking  tell  me  ?  ”

“  no  ,  because  you  couldn’t  keep  a  secret  if  you  tried  .”

“  well  that’s  because  it  shouldn’t  be  a  fucking  secret  ,  ev  .  this  is  fantastic  ,  ”  hazel  eyes  widened  with  excitement  ,  “  so  you’re  shooting  them  for  ––  .  .  .  ”

“  t’ey  weren’t  too  explicit  about  it  .  i  know  for  certain  i’m  covering  bot’  shows  at  t’e  o2  ,  documenting  t’e  whole  thing  from  t’e  moment  they  get  there  ,  ”  evan  huffed  a  curl  away  from  her  face  ,  nodding  to  the  screen  ,  “  and  t’en  a  shoot  on  site  at  t’e  venue  .  so  i’ve  got  to  work  wit’  what  i’ve  got  .  i’ve  got  ONE  chance  here  ,  and  nicky  haven  scares  t’e  absolute  fuck  out’a  me  ,  so  i  can’t  blow  it  .  ”

“  nicky  haven  scares  EVERYONE  .  it’s  part  of  h​​is  charm  ,  ”  isla  leaned  in  ,  ma​​king  herself  perfectly  comfortable  in  evan’s  space  as  she  took  the  mouse  and  began  clicking  through  different  ideas  opened  on  photoshop  ,  “  let’s  see  what  you’ve  got  so  far  ––  .  .  .  ”

“  isla  ,  it’s  not  a  big  deal  .  really  i  shouldn’t  even  be  working  on  t’is  HERE  ,  right  now  .  it’s  not  exactly  nme  related  stuff  ,  you  kn––  ”

“  i  TOLD  you  she  was  here  today  ,  ”  a  girl  called  sophie  ,  who  manned  nme’s  front  desk  in  the  mornings  ,  materialized  on  the  other  side  of  evan’s  desk  .  a  junior  writer  ,  andrew  ,  was  hot  on  her  heels  .

“  soph  ,  now  really  probably  isn’t  the  best  time  and  it  really  isn’t  your  busi––  ”

“  someone’s  got  to  show  her  ,  ”  sophie  was  ,  admittedly  ,  obnoxious  .  and  coming  from  EVAN  ,  that  was  a  feat  .

“  show  WHAT  to  WHO  ?  ”  isla’s  voice  changed  in  tone  ,  taking  on  a  hint  of  authority  as  she  looked  at  andrew  ,  “  aren’t  you  meant  to  be  doing  some  social  media  research  right  now  ?  ”

“  i  WAS  ,  but  ––  ”

“  but  we’ve  found  something  that  evan  HAS  to  see  ,  ”  sophie  .  again  .

“  we  ?  ”

“  ME  ?  ”  evan  said  in  tandem  with  isla  ,  brows  lifting  as  she  clicked  the  final  piece  into  place  on  the  cube  .  she  glanced  over  at  isla  and  felt  a  strange  twist  in  her  stomach  when  she  saw  the  redhead  had  gone  rigid  .

“  is  this  about  ––  ”

“  rebecca  stringer  ,  ”  andrew  nodded  solemnly  ,  as  though  evan  was  supposed  to  know  who  the  hell  THAT  was  .

“  better  known  as  BEX  ,  ”  sophie  added  .

it  was  evan’s  turn  to  go  rigid  .  her  back  straightened  ,  and  it  felt  like  ice  had  just  been  shot  through  her  veins  .  truth  be  told  ,  she  was  more  worried  about  conflicting  schedules  lately  .  .  .  not  the  way  bex  sing-songed  a  shortened  version  of  kieran’s  name  .  .  .  or  the  way  she  answered  his  phone  and  simply  couldn’t  remember  who  evan  was  .  .  .  or  the  way  she’d  made  sure  evan  could  hear  her  promise  to  personally  deliver  kieran  to  his  hotel  room  that  first  night  in  los  angeles  .  it  wasn’t  exactly  PLEASANT  being  reminded  of  the  instinct  that  she’d  shut  down  ,  intuition  telling  her  something  wasn’t  quite  right  there  .  her  brows  pinched  together  as  the  rubik’s  cube  slid  from  one  hand  to  the  other  and  back  .  she  glanced  over  at  isla  with  a  prompting  look  .

“  we’re  .  .  .  doing  a  piece  about  nepotism  babies  in  the  industry  ,  and  she’s  a  PERFECT  example  of  one  so  i  was  having  andrew  look  into  the  way  she  interacts  with  fans  and  her  socials  and  what  not  .  she’s  one  of  like  TEN  people  we’re  look​​ing  into  ,  ”  she  explained  with  an  apologetic  look  .  it  was  then  that  she  turned  a  sharp  eye  to  andrew  and  sophie  ,  “  don’t  know  what  THAT  has  to  do  with  evan  ,  though  .  ”

“  see  for  yourself  .  ”

“  SOPHIE  .  ”

“  what  ?  it  probably  isn’t  even  new  information  for  her  ,  ”  she  shrugged  ,  reaching  over  two  monitors  to  hand  evan  a  phone  .  twitter  was  opened  to  a  profile  with  bex’s  beaming  face  in  the  icon  ,  but  the  handle  wasn’t  hers  .  she  gave  the  pair  of  them  a  skeptical  look  before  glancing  over  at  isla  who  only  offered  a  half  -  hearted  shrug  .  it  didn’t  take  long  to  see  what  ,  exactly  ,  sophie  had  been  talking  about  ,  a  slew  of  tweets  and  retweets  .

bexupdates  :  bex  &  kieran  pulled  up  to  the  venue  together  .  .  .  and  then  left  at  the  same  time  .  why  are  they  lowkey  so  cute  annathefound  :  not  bex  wearing  a  baby  tee  version  of  the  found’s  merch  .  .  .  stanning  her  boyfriend  just  like  the  rest  of  us  

ruairidailyposts  :  ok  wait  are  evan  &  kieran  even  dating  anymore  bc  i  could  be  down  with  a  bex  &  kieran  moment  cheerupbailey  :  @ruairidailyposts  you  know  two  people  can  have  a  relationship  without  posting  about  it  right  ???  they’re  in  separate  countries  rn  lol

babybexxx  :  i  just  think  that  bex  &  kieran  walsh  as  a  power  couple  .

bxhq  :  no  offense  but  bex  is  simply  so  much  better  for  him  than  some  rando  from  ireland  like  what thefoundupdates  :  @bxhq  babes  they  LITERALLY  grew  up  together  ????

totallyconan  :  be  honest  do  u  guys  think  the  reason  evan  isn’t  on  tour  with  them  is  bc  they’re  not  together  anymore  like  she  literally  never  misses  shows

adamfitzupdates :  why  are  y’all  so  obsessed  with  a  relationship  that  doesn’t  concern  you  ???  chill bexlevitates  :  @adamfitzupdates  bc  it’s  weird  that  evan  knew  him  for  so  long  and  only  started  dating  him  AFTER  the  found  started  to  get  big  like  that’s  shady

bexupdates  :  find  someone  who  looks  at  u  the  way  bex  looks  at  kieran  on  stage  wtf  did  y’all  see  that

newruleshq  :  no  waaaay  this  man  has  a  gf  when  he  and  bex  look  so  good  next  to  each  other  LMAO  

thefoundupdates  :  according  to  the  girl  who  wrote  the  article  kieran  literally  WALKED  OUT  on  the  interview  ???  rockstar  behavior  but  also  hope  he’s  ok

evan  could’ve  kept  scrolling  for  hours  as  her  heart  rate  began  to  rise  and  rise  .  the  crease  between  her  brows  deepened  ,  and  she  reminded  herself  of  everything  she  knew  to  be  true  .  kieran  LOVED  her  .  twitter  was  a  BRUTAL  place  .  it  was  as  though  the  worst  parts  of  her  subconscious  had  come  to  life  in  280  characters  or  less  .  her  head  began  to  swim  as  her  heart  sank  into  her  stomach  .

“  what  does  t’is  ––  .  .  .  ”  her  voice  cracked  ,  and  she  cleared  her  throat  ,  finally  looking  up  from  the  phone  screen  ,  “  why  ,  exactly  ,  are  you  showing  me  this  ?  ”  

sophie  looked  as  though  she  was  shocked  by  evan’s  question  ,  “  because  i’ve  dated  musicians  .  .  .  and  like  HALF  of  those  are  in  bex’s  likes  .  which  are  public  ,  by  the  way  .  just  doesn’t  seem  subtle  to  me  .  ”

“  are  you  trying  to  insinuate  something  here  ,  sophie  ?  ”  her  tone  shifted  ,  irritated  as  she  handed  the  phone  back  .

“  like  i  said  ,  i’ve  dated  guys  in  bands  ,  too  ,  and  ––  ”

“  enough  ,  ”  isla  snapped  ,  “  you’re  sticking  your  nose  where  it  doesn’t  belong  .  BOTH  of  you  should  be  off  doing  your  jobs  right  now  ,  so  ,  run  along  .  ”

both  of  them  scurried  off  without  a  word  .  

evan  was  still  for  a  moment  ,  but  her  fingertips  were  itching  for  the  keyboard  .  she  was  no  stranger  to  things  like  this  ,  unkind  words  from  strangers  who  didn’t  LOVE  the  idea  of  her  ––  despite  not  knowing  her  .  the  good  outweighed  the  bad  on  the  internet  ,  but  the  voices  who  didn’t  like  her  were  always  the  loudest  .  even  BEFORE  she  and  kieran  had  gone  public  with  their  relationship  .  .  .  even  before  they  were  ever  in  a  relationship  at  all  .  over  time  ,  she’d  learned  to  tune  it  out  and  focus  on  the  kindness  that  flooded  her  comment  sections  and  mentions  .  .  .  but  every  now  and  again  something  slipped  through  the  cracks  .  .  .  and  when  they  did  ,  she  absorbed  them  like  a  blow  to  the  abdomen  .  they  settled  into  her  memory  and  cemented  themselves  there  ,  tucked  away  until  they  found  the  perfect  moment  to  make  her  self  conscious  .  like  the  fan  who  had  commented  on  the  shape  of  her  body  before  and  after  going  to  uni  .  .  .  and  another  from  galway  who  made  it  their  business  to  let  everyone  know  she’d  slept  around  while  living  there  .  .  .  and  every  time  someone  said  she  wasn’t  good  enough  for  kieran  or  any  of  them  .  that  she  had  bad  intentions  ,  leeching  onto  the  boys  for  fame  .  that  her  career  was  based  SOLELY  on  the  four  of  them  .  

if  she  caved  and  kept  scrolling  ,  she’d  commit  it  all  to  memory  .  .  .  everything  that  made  her  intuition  about  bex  STRONGER  .  

instead  ,  she  launched  forward  and  snatched  the  rubik’s  cube  back  up  ,  immediately  distorting  its  perfect  faces  and  mixing  it  up  again  .  it  was  good  to  keep  your  hands  busy  ,  she  knew  ,  when  your  mind  began  to  run  away  .  

the  worst  of  it  wasn’t  even  TRULY  comments  about  their  relationship  .  .  .  those  hurt  ,  but  they  didn’t  sting  quite  as  bad  as  real  -  time  updates  about  kieran  and  bex  showing  up  or  leaving  venues  together  .  she  dulled  the  pain  by  reminding  herself  that  THREE  other  boys  were  never  too  far  behind  .  that  kieran  would  never  .  .  .  COULD  never  .  .  .  

but  then  again  ,  there  was  the  tweet  that  weighed  heaviest  in  her  mind  .  kieran  walked  out  in  the  middle  of  an  interview  ,  and  he  hadn’t  told  her  .  something  rattled  him  to  the  point  of  his  version  of  an  outburst  ,  and  he  hadn’t  told  her  .  that  seemed  like  something  he  would  have  told  her  .  .  .  it  seemed  important  enough  ,  she  thought  to  herself  ,  right  ?  RIGHT  ?

her  throat  felt  tight  ,  and  she  kept  running  the  tweets  she’d  read  over  in  her  mind  .  there  was  a  deep  furrow  in  her  brow  as  she  looked  down  at  her  hands  ,  still  vehemently  mixing  up  the  toy  .  something  felt  off  kilter  .  .  .  but  she  couldn’t  pin  down  which  hurt  more  :  the  slew  of  tweets  from  people  pretending  to  know  what  went  on  in  her  relationship  .  .  .  or  the  thought  of  kieran  doing  something  as  rash  as  storming  out  of  an  interview  ––  and  then  not  telling  her  .  

“  i  didn’t  know  about  t’e  interv​​iew  bit  ,  ”  she  said  quietly  ,  eyes  still  trained  on  the  colorful  cube  .  she  was  certain  her  face  was  the  opposite  ,  color  drained  .  

“  evan  ––  .  .  .  ”

“  it’s  fine  ,  ”  she  said  firmly  ,  “  it’s  probably  not  true  .  just  like  t’e  rest  of  it  isn’t  true  .  ”

her  voice  sounded  distant  .  .  .  and  she  wasn’t  sure  if  she  was  trying  to  convince  isla  or  HERSELF  .  clearing  her  throat  again  ,  she  set  the  toy  back  down  on  her  desk  and  scooted  towards  the  computer  .  

“  i’ve  got  work  to  do  ,  ”  she  said  quietly  ,  getting  back  to  the  monitor  .  though  all  she  wanted  to  do  was  go  home  .  how  many  more  people  thought  that  she  wasn’t  GOOD  ENOUGH  for  kieran  ?  how  many  people  thought  someone  like  bex  was  a  better  fit  ?  how  long  would  it  take  for  the  suggestion  to  become  potent  enough  to  make  the  people  who  KNEW  them  question  it  as  well  ?  and  if  kieran  had  walked  out  of  an  interv​​iew  ,  WHY  hadn’t  he  told  her  ?  

she  glanced  down  at  her  own  phone  screen  ,  hoping  that  maybe  she’d  missed  a  text  or  a  call  .  .  .  but  all  she  got  was  nothing  .  nothing  but  the  words  she’d  seen  written  down  ,  now  cemented  in  her  mind  :  bex  is  simply  so  much  better  for  him  .  .  .  because  SHE  was  there  ,  wrapped  up  in  the  same  world  he  was  in  .  she  was  accessible  .  immediate  .  beautiful  .  

and  evan  was  stuck  in  london  with  nothing  but  time  to  wonder  .

[professorspork]

today in the Andromeda Galaxy, *screaming*

so like listen. I had this whole PLAN for this post, about how the Brandeis motto is taken from Psalms 51, “truth, even unto its innermost parts,” and how my Ryder reflects that. I had a lot of last little errands I wanted to run before starting the endgame of the next big phase of main plot, and over and over again-- telling Maariko the angara astronomer that it was exiles who destroyed his stuff and hurt people, even though it turned him against humans as a whole; siding with Sid over Addison that we should go public with the fact that the Nexus was backing the Three Sabers even though it makes us look sus as hell; convincing the angara historian on Voeld that he shouldn’t whitewash the fact that the angara cooperated with the kett during early first contact-- I stubbornly insisted that what’s TRUE matters a heck of a lot more than what’s “convenient” or “inspiring.” I told the same to Keri, later on. 

but then like. WOW DID A BUNCH HAPPEN, the latest of which REALLY DOESN’T FIT WITH THAT WHOLE THEME.

so we went to Khi Tasira, and I brought Jaal and Peebee with me because of course I did. (in my defense, Big Kett Offense + Giant Remnant Place = perfectly good reasons to have them as my party, but lbr I probably would have taken them anyway). AND WHO BOY WHAT REVELATIONS. the Scourge is the leftovers of a superweapon explosion that went off here in a galaxy-wide terraforming accident! makes sense! we still need another widget because of course we do! and the big one: THE ANGARA WERE DESIGNED AND MADE. (sidebar: after that reveal, they had the sweetest little conversation of Peebee assuring him if he wanted to talk she’s there for him, and he was like “why because now I’m a remnant curiosity? ... SIKE lol ur FACE” and I just. don’t understand. why I’m not allowed to date both of them.)

once again, I cannot emphasize enough how much better and more thematically resonant this game would be if Ryder were quarian and instead of the human ark we were from the quarian ark. like, the parallels! the depth and nuance! the hard questions! it’s a bummer in general that they decided no quarians in Andromeda, but this really just does seem like an obvious and illuminating solution to so many pitfalls and half-problems. it makes me so frustrated.

checking on everyone after, I was really touched by Liam’s take, which is ‘fuck the people who made the scourge, minefields make life unlivable for civilians.” he’s such a good egg. Gil’s gonna co-parent with Jill, which is incredibly sweet. and Jaal was dreamy as all get-out, what with his “There's a peace in knowing that though the universe is beyond your understanding, it doesn't need your understanding to function” and his “I’m not broken, I’m excited” and his “this changes nothing except ourselves.” IF NOTHING WE DO MATTERS THEN ALL THAT MATTERS IS WHAT WE DO. he told me i made him feel safe, which is just. that’s some top-tier shit right there, and thank goodness, because later on bioware would TRULY TRY MY PATIENCE (lol spoilers). also he sent me an email with the subject line “from your romantic friend Jaal” which is just. my heart. i can’t.

so that was all great! i was having a good time!

and then I went to the Nexus and gave my next interview with Keri, and she was like “hey come cheat on your boyf at the bar with me.” and I was like well I’m sure not doing that but I do have to complete the mission so I guess I’ll have another agonizing conversation like I did with Vetra where I let her down easy. ONLY THAT IS NOT WHAT HAPPENED, BECAUSE THE GAME DID NOT GIVE ME A WAY TO TURN HER DOWN. LITERALLY ALL DIALOGUE OPTIONS WERE CONSENT TO CHEATING SEX. WTF??????? i really feel some kind of way about that, and like I get that I didn’t have to flirt with her and I guess I could have just not gone to the Vortex, I don’t understand the utility of a side romance you’re locked into. it made me feel super gross, and both violating and violated.  NOT EVEN PLAYING FIRE CHESS WITH DRACK, KESH AND VORN COULD CHEER ME UP.

Jaal tried to lift my spirits by choosing me over a fancy new job with the Resistance, but I couldn’t really get into it seeing as I was wracked with guilt over being forced to bang someone else. but he invited me to a date on Aya, so I went there and talked through all the angarans’ existential crises over the new ~revelations.

and then-- MY FAULT, REALLY, I COULD HAVE PICKED THE NO-SEX OPTION BUT AGAIN I WAS MOTIVATED LARGELY BY GUILT-- I had to endure the world’s most off-puttingly milquetoast Obligatory Act Three Side Boob (or as Helen calls it, the “pre-climax climax”). only IT WASN’T SIDEBOOB, IT WAS FULL ON BOOB. BOOBS LIKE A CHEST PLATE. IMMOVABLE, GRAVITY-DEFYING BOOBS. SOME MATRIARCH BENEZIA BADONKERS I HAVE BEEN CARRYING AROUND APPARENTLY. THAT STAND STRAIGHT UP EVEN WHEN RYDER IS SUPINE, AND ALSO I FEEL WEIRD THAT JAAL IMMEDIATELY UNDERSTOOD ORAL SEX WITH HUMANS????

I’m disappointed. which I figured would be inevitable given how poorly I think Bioware handles romance in general, but I was really hoping Jaal would be an exception because the only reason I romanced him at all was because his unique quirks took me by surprise and felt consistent and well-rounded. like! he’s so sweet and fuckin weird! where was any of that???  and then he called me TEMPTRESS in his follow-up email which I uhhh did not love.

luckily I was able to get the taste out of my mouth by having movie night with the crew my whole family, and Kallo reminded me why he is in fact my stealth fave. the body language in this scene was a surprise, but not an unpleasant one-- Cora leaning on Liam’s knees! Peebee cuddling Kallo! Helen said if I hadn’t romanced anyone I would have fallen asleep on Drack and that is Good, Actually.

only thing left is the end game! we’ll see how it goes. 

[screamxqueenx94]

The Tell Part 1/ Teen Wolf Series Rewrite

A/N: Finally got access to the show again nd wrote this in like a day lol! I'm working more, but I'll post as soon as I can

Bold= texts; italics= inner thoughts

Warnings: arguing, blood and a dead body

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Charli's POV

I had just fallen asleep after I finished cleaning up the broken glass in my room when my dad comes through the front door.

"Charli! Hey, come down here, I got good news!" He calls cheerfully. 

I come downstairs, messy bun bouncing, zip up hoodie hanging off one shoulder and a pair of plaid boxer shorts I use for pajamas on, half asleep and rubbing my eyes. 

"Can this wait until morning? I just got to sleep." I reply in a groggy voice. 

"No, it's too good to wait." He answers happily as he shuts the front door. He gently, but excitedly, pulls me into the living room by my sleeve, then stops right in front of me. 

"I talked to the owner of the video store in town and he said he's hiring. Now normally, he'd only hire someone who's 18 or older, but I got him to reconsider and…" He explains excitedly as I just stare at him, eyes half open and barely holding my head up on my own. 

"And what?" I ask sleepily.

"... And he agreed to hire you!" He finishes. "I got you a job!" He holds his arms out as if he's one of those models showing game show contestants what they won. 

My eyes grow wider. Suddenly I'm more awake. "I'm sorry, what?" 

"I got you a job at the video store!" He repeats cheerfully. 

I just stand there in stunned silence for a moment. 

"So…you woke me up at--" I look at my phone to see the time, "11:36 at night to tell me you got me a job?" I ask sassy. 

He nods his head happily. I just turn around and slowly walk back upstairs while giving him a sarcastic thumbs up. I should've been more excited, but all that activity from today wore me out. I'll have to remind myself to really thank him in the morning. He really didn't have to go through the trouble.

I lay in bed, not able to go back to sleep. My phone pings for a text alert.

Isaac: hey, u still up?

I text back.

Charli: ya. wats up? 

Isaac: i was wondering if u wanted 2 go 2 the movies w me next saturday? 

Charli: sure :) id like that 

Isaac: great! I convinced my dad 2 let me borrow the car so I'll pick u up at 7? 

Charli: ya sounds good 

Isaac: great! C u then

~

I wake up the next morning, get cleaned up and head to my dad's office as he is finishing up a phone call. 

"Do you have a minute?" I ask when he looks at me.

"Sure." He answers as he removes his glasses. I step forward into his office, picking at my nails. 

"I'm sorry about last night, I didn't handle that well. I should've been nicer…" I sigh and sit in the leather padded chair across from his mahogany desk. "You went out of your way to do something nice for me and I was rude--" he cuts me off by putting his hand up. 

"Charli, honey. I'm not mad." He answers smiling.

My eyes shift. "Y--you're not?" I asked surprised.

"No, I get it. It was late, you were tired. I was just excited for you is all." He answers, putting his glasses back on and opening up a manila folder sitting in front of him. 

"I'm excited too though!" I reassure excitedly.

"You are?" He asks, looking up over his glasses with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah! Completely!" I answer back.

He smirks, takes his glasses off and reaches into a bottom drawer in his desk.

"Perfect!" He places an ugly purple and golden yellow button up on the desk and slides closer to me. "Because you start tonight!" He adds. 

I reluctantly take the shirt and set it in my lap. I look at it for a moment then look back up at my dad when he speaks up again. 

"Your shift starts at 3. They close at 11." He puts his glasses back on and looks at the case file again. "Dress code is jeans and sneakers." He looks up at me one last time before turning his attention back to the file. "Have fun." 

I trudge back up the steps and get to work on my weekend homework. I regret all of this morning…

~

Three o'clock rolls around and I'm inside the video store wearing my shirt open to show off my Rolling Stones t-shirt with ripped jeans and vans with my hair up in a messy bun. I'm greeted by my new coworker, Leveque, who gives me my orientation and shows me my locker. After that, we just head back to the counter and wait for business. 

~ 

Hours have passed and we've had maybe two customers, which was Scott and Stiles coming to bring me food and to rent some dumb bro movie. Meanwhile, Leveque is changing the flickering lights while I'm checking the returns and preparing to put them back on the shelves. 

"Dammit." I mumble as I get down to pick up the DVD I just dropped. As I hit the floor, the phone rings and the bell on the door rings to inform me a customer has come in. Fuuuck me…

"Can someone help me find 'The Notebook?" I know that voice. 

A few seconds pass, I put the disc in the box while on the floor hurriedly. 

"Hello? Is anybody working here?" Hold on, douche nugget. 

I pop up and set the box on the counter, making Jackson jump a bit. I let out a snarky chuckle.

"The Notebook, huh?" I ask, striding from behind the counter. "Didn't realize you had a sensitive side there, Jax." I reply sarcastic.

"Are you gonna help me find it or not?" He asks sharply. 

"Check the romance aisle." I tell him as I head towards the phone to answer it. 

He just rolls his eyes and walks the direction I pointed. "Gotta be kidding me." He mutters under his breath. 

I go to answer the phone when Jackson calls out terrified. 

"Charli! Come over here!" 

I run over to where he is and when I'm about to ask what's wrong, I instantly smell blood. I slowly turn and see Leveque laying on the floor with a big gash in his neck. I put my hands over my mouth. Jackson and I slowly back up and he trips over the ladder, making a lot of noise and making the lights short circuit. I help him back up, but as soon as he's standing, we both see something in our peripheral vision and slowly start to turn to face it. We look at it in utter fear, when suddenly Jackson grabs my hand and has us run and hide behind a horror movie shelf. 

Him sitting on the outside with an arm reached out to hold me back. Thanks, Jax, but I could've totally had this one. He sneaks a peek around the corner only to quickly whip his head back around. He looks at me with a finger to his lips when a bunch of movies fall on us. We cover our heads while staying quiet. Once they stop, he looks back again, only for the shelves to start falling like dominos. I start crawling the other way and slide behind a wall. When the shelves are about to fall, he jumps to the side only to get his legs stuck under a shelf. He lays there, clearly in pain, but remains still as the creature walks over him. The creature stands over him for awhile, which made me decide to come up with a plan. 

Why I'm saving him, I'll never understand, but I'm going for it. I crawl to the counter and quickly grab the emergency industrial size flashlight that's under the counter. I crawl back over to where I was and start flashing the light, making it look at me and I shine the light in its bright red eyes, scaring it away. It runs and bursts through the window as I hear a girl scream. 

I run over to Jackson to check on him. "Jackson?" Silence. "Jackson, are you okay?" He must be in shock. I lift up the shelf and throw it off of his legs. He's still breathing, but not moving. I focus my attention on the broken window, then I see Lydia in her car, screaming. I grab my phone out of my back pocket and call 911.

~

Lydia and Jackson are both being seen by EMTs while I'm talking to an officer, telling them what I saw. I stop mid sentence as I start to smell blood again and I become nauseous again, covering my mouth like I'm going to vomit. The officer looks at me concerned, then leads me to his cruiser and opens the door so I can sit down and puts a blanket over my shoulders.

Suddenly, the Sheriff's car pulls up. "Paul, let's get this area locked up." I hear Sheriff Stilinski say. I quickly jump up and start running towards him, when the officer who was interviewing me tried to grab me and stop me.

"Mr. Stilinski!" I cry out. He turns towards me and signals the officer to let me go. I run to him and hold his forearms with tears in my eyes. 

"Charli, what happend?" He asks concerned. 

I don't answer his question. I just beg him in panic, "please don't tell my dad! Please don't tell him what happened! He can't know! He'll make us move!" I'm in tears again, makeup running down my cheeks. 

"Oh--okay, Charli, listen to me, alright? Deep breaths." He coaches me through taking deep breaths. 

"Why don't you let an EMT take a look at you, okay? I'll be right over to talk to you… I promise." He calmly tells me. I listen and go see an EMT. As she examines me, I'm listening to Jackson complain. We just went through a traumatic moment and you wanna complain? Suck my balls, Jackson…

"Why the hell can't I just go home? I'm fine." Jackson bitches to Noah. 

"I hear ya, but the EMT said you hit your head pretty hard. They just want to make sure you don't have a concussion." He answers back, understandingly.

"W--what part of 'I'm fine' are you having a problem grasping? Okay, I wanna go home!" He sounds like a literal child.

I wince as the EMT pulls splinters out of my palms. " I understand that." Noah answers.

"No you don't understand! Which blows my mind since it should be a pretty basic concept to grasp for a minimum wage rent-a-cop like you!" Jackson yells, shoving his finger in Noah's face. "Okay, now I wanna go home!" He continues to scream. 

"Jackson! Shut the fuck up and show some respect for once in your life!" I scream back as I rise to my feet while the EMT was wrapping my hands with gauze. Noah looks back at me and signals to me that he's got this under control.

As I sit back down I hear a familiar voice yell, "Oh, whoa! Is that a dead body?" As other EMTs roll out a stretcher with Leveque's body on it, covered with a sheet and his arm hanging off the side. Fuckin aye, Stiles. 

I start to feel sick again. "Do you have anything for nausea?" I ask the EMT as I cover my nose and mouth with the blanket. She hands me two pills and a bottle of water. I take them like candy and chug the water like my life depends on it. After I finish off the water, I see Derek and Scott on top of the video store, watching everything happen. The hair on my neck starts to stand. I watch them leave and see a familiar face in the crowd. Dad…

He tries to come over to me, but an officer holds him back. "Dammit, that's my daughter!" He pushes through and comes straight to me. He wraps his arms around me and I just burst into tears. I hold him tight as his hand rests on the back of my head while the other wrapped tightly around me. He holds me until I let go.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt? What happened to your hands?" He asks frantically as he holds my face inbetween his shaky hands. 

"I--I'm okay… I just had some splinters from lifting a shelf off Jackson." I tell him quietly as I direct to Jackson with my eyes, making him look over at Jackson, who's still bitching about wanting to go home. 

He pulls me in close again, kisses the top of my head and hugs me tight again until Mr. Stilinski comes up to us. He relaxes his hold a bit and faces him, shaking his hand. 

"Ambrus." He greets.

"Noah." My dad greets in return. "What happened here?" He asks.

"An employee here was murdered and the kids not only stumbled upon the body, but we're also attacked." He answers, resting his hands on his belt.

"Well who did it?" My dad asks conceringly.

"We don't know yet, but Mr. Whittemore and Miss Martin described it as some type of man-dog creature. Mr. Whittemore said it had bright red eyes." 

My father looked at me with concern, but I just looked down at my feet and turned slightly away from him.

"Charli, can you confirm what they saw?" Mr. Stilinski asks. 

"I--It..it was d--dark. I--I couldn't tell w--what it was…" I stutter out, turning away from them. But I knew exactly what it was. An alpha… 

"Can you try and remember?" Mr. Stilinski asked again, stepping closer. 

I start to shake my head. Then my body shakes and I put my face in my hands and start crying. My father comes to me and puts his hands comfortingly around my shoulders and leads me towards his car. 

"Noah, I think she might need some rest. I'll bring her in another day to talk to you, once she's in a better frame of mind." My father insists.

"Of course. I understand." He then looks to me. "Get some rest, Charli. We can talk another time okay?" 

I don't look at him. I just sniffle and nod my head. My father wraps his arms around me again and leads me to the passenger side of his car. He opens the door and guides me in while slipping the blanket off me as an officer hands him my things from my locker. He takes them and puts them in the backseat, then comes around front and starts driving home. 

The car ride is quiet. I just keep my hands balled tight in my lap, shaking, not looking up. My father keeps looking over at me. I can tell what's going through his mind. He wants to move again, I know it. Once we get home, he pulls into the garage and shuts the car off. We're quiet for a moment as we just sit there. 

"It was an Alpha wasn't it?" He asks. 

I'm quiet, but I nod my head. He punches his steering wheel, making me squeeze my eyes shut. He puts his hands over his face and slides them down until one hand is back in his lap and the other is resting on the steering wheel. He looks at me and is quiet for a little longer. 

"Did he hurt you?" He asks. I shake my head. He exhales deeply. 

"Does he know?" 

"I don't know…" I whisper.

We sit in silence again. Too long. 

"Please don't make us move again…" I whisper.

"That's not up to you." He answers harshly.

"Of course it's not…" I comment back, still never looking at him.

He looks at me with anger in his eyes.

"What the hell is that suppose to mean?" He asks with fire in his eyes.  

"You know exactly what it means, Dad." I spit back, still not making eye contact. I pull the door open and slam it shut then head inside the house. 

He punches the steering wheel again and follows me in. By the time he tries to catch up to me, I already have my bedroom door locked. He knocks on my door. 

"Charli?" I don't answer. "Charli… I'm sorry, okay?" I still don't answer. "C'mon, Charli, let's talk about this...please?" He waits before he talks again.

"Look, honey I'm not mad at you okay? I was just scared…" I get off my bed and listen by the door. 

"I was scared because I thought I lost you…" I can hear him tearing up. "I already lost your mother, I don't wanna lose you too, okay?" I continue to listen. 

"If I lost you… I--I could never go on. You're all I have left. We are all each other has, I don't wanna lose that, okay?" I start to tear up too. 

"Look, if you don't feel like talking anymore tonight, I understand… but can you at least let me know that you're okay? Please?" He starts to beg. I stand up and unlock the door. As I open it, we just cry in each other's embrace, falling to the floor and doing what we should've done a long time ago. Letting ourselves cry. 

After I finish crying, I wipe my eyes and look at him. "Promise me that just because this happened that we won't move again… I'm sick of running, Dad." He puts his head down. "Dad...please…" I rest my hand on his. He looks into my eyes and brushes some loose strands away from my face and wipes away the last few tears trying to escape. 

"I can promise that we can try this out…" he pauses. "But my main concern is your safety. The last thing I want is something happening to you." 

I nod my head. "I know, Dad, but please… promise me we're not going to just run away anymore." 

He sighs, wipes his face, then looks back at me. "If we stay… then you start your training after school." 

"What about my new job?" 

"I have a good feeling you probably won't be going back there ever again." He informs me with a half smile, resting his hand on my shoulder. I half smile back at him. 

"Well, get some sleep, you have school in the morning." He kisses my forehead, helps me up and heads off to his room. 

~

I couldn't sleep a wink last night. I try focusing on getting ready for school, but I can't cover my dark circles to save my life. I just throw on a beanie again with a hoodie and jeans with my beat up converse. I say goodbye to my dad, grab my bag and start heading to the Stilinski house. Just as I reach their driveway, Stiles is coming out, keys in hand and backpack over his shoulder. He spots me and looks like he's seen a ghost. 

"Charli! Hey…" 

"Could you give me a ride to school?" I ask quietly. 

"Uh, y--yeah, sure." He speedwalks over to Roscoe and opens the passenger door. 

He helps me in, closes the door, then jogs to the other side and hops into the driver seat. He starts Roscoe up, backs out and heads to the school. It's a quiet ride. There's not even music playing and for once, I welcome the total silence. Just the sound of the engine. We pull into the school parking lot. Stiles shuts off Roscoe. 

"Thanks for the ride, Stiles." I tell him as I'm gathering up my belongings and reaching for the door handle. 

I push the door open slightly, only for him to reach over and pull it closed. I look over at him and he looks calm on the outside, but his whiskey colored eyes are drowning in worry. 

"Charli, last night--" I cut him off.

"Stiles, thank you, truly, for caring… but I'm not ready to talk about it. Not yet." He looks down, almost disappointed, but he turns to me and his eyes are filled with understanding.

"When I'm ready to talk about it, I promise you're the first person I'll come to." I reassure him, resting my hand on his that's resting on the center console. He looks at me with reassurance.

"Promise?" 

"Promise." I tell him, holding out my pinky for a pinky promise. He looks at it with a raised eyebrow, then chuckles and wraps his pinky around mine. We smile at each other then head inside the building.

~

"Just a friendly reminder, Parent Teacher conference is tonight. Students below a 'C' average are required to attend. I won't name you because the shame and self disgust should be more than enough punishment." Mr. Harris drones on as Stiles and I are sitting at our lab tables. 

"Has anyone seen Scott McCall?" He asks, putting his hands on his hips while eyeing Stiles who's highlighting literally everything in his book. 

I start biting on my thumbnail while Stiles looks up at him with the highlighter cap in his mouth. As I'm about to speak up, everyone's attention turns towards the door opening and in walks Jackson. He walks over to his table and sits down. Mr. Harris walks over to him and gets close to him and places a hand on his back.

"Hey, Jackson. If you need to leave early for any reason, you let me know." Jackson just nods his head. 

Mr. Harris then looks at me. "Charlotte, same goes for you too." I just give him a slight nod. 

Stiles looks at me in confusion and I just shrug to tell him I don't understand why he's being nice either. He starts walking up to the front of the room. 

"Everyone, start reading chapter nine." Everyone opens up their books and starts reading. 

"Mr. Stilinski…" Stiles looks up. "Try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs… it's chemistry, not a coloring book." Stiles spits the highlighter cap straight up and catches it with ease. It's weird that I think that was kinda hot isn't it? Yeah...it is…

I start reading, but of course, Stiles is distracted. "Hey, Danny… can I ask you a question?" Oh no…

"No." He says blatantly. Wise choice, Danny Boy.

"Well I'm going to anyway…" I should've known better…

"Um, did Lydia show up in your homeroom today?" Okay, that's not at all what I was expecting. Good question. 

Danny sighs. "No." Stiles and I just look at each other with a knowing look. 

"Can I ask you another question?" There it is. I knew it was coming… 

Danny is clearly getting frustrated. "Answer's still no." 

"Does anyone know what happened to her, Charli and Jackson last night?" Wow, okay another good question…"He wouldn't tell me." Weird.

"But he's your best friend…" Exactly, that's really weird. 

Danny just shrugs and goes back to reading. "One more question…" Based on his body language, I think it's safe to assume that Danny is rolling his eyes. 

"What?" He replies a little too loud. 

"Am I attractive?" There it is, I knew it was coming… Danny is quiet. As the silence grows longer, Stiles keeps leaning forward, then falls off his stool. 

I cover my mouth, trying not to laugh, but at the same time, worrying if he hurt himself. I look over and Jackson is giving Stiles a dirty look. God I wanna punch him in his face so bad…

~

As we leave class, Stiles is trying to get ahold of Scott while I'm trying to get ahold of Allison. Stiles calls Scott while I'm texting Allison, Stiles and I keep looking back and forth at each other. 

"Finally! Have you been getting any of my texts?" I hear Stiles say. Must've finally reached Scott. 

"Do you have any idea what's going on?" He asks. I try to listen in but he's pulling the phone and himself away, so I poke him in his ribs to make him react. "Lydia's MIA and Jackson looks like he's got a time bomb inserted into his face, another guy's dead and you gotta do something about it." 

"Something!" He continues, frustrated. "Hello?" He then looks at the phone and makes an angry face at it. 

"He hung up, didn't he?" I ask snarky with my arms crossed, genuinely enjoying seeing Stiles feel the way I felt the night we helped Derek. 

"He better not make a habit of this or…" I cut him off.

"Or what? What are you gonna do?" I ask with a smirk. He looks at me through his lashes and licks his lips.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" He asks.

"A little bit, yeah." I continue to smirk, then walk ahead. He pauses for a moment then catches up with me. 

"So…" he rubs the back of his head nervously. I look at him. "Do you wanna go with me to go talk to Lydia?" 

"And miss out on you making a fool of yourself in front of her again? Of course I'm coming." I chuckle. 

"Maybe I'll just leave you in the car." He shoots. 

"Maybe I'll go talk to her myself while you wait in the car." I shoot back.

He scoffs. "You're not gonna make me wait in my own car." 

"I may be smaller, but I'm definitely stronger than you." I inform him with a smirk and slight bite of my lower lip. 

He scoffs again. "You're not stronger than me." 

"You really wanna debate that?" I ask, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. 

He's quiet. I think he remembers what happened over a week ago when Scott almost attacked him in his room because he's pursing his lips. He looks down, then back to me. "Nah, I'm good. I think you made your point." He replies, knowing I'm right. 

We go over to Lydia's house and are greeted by her mom, who is actually really sweet. She leads us to her room where she's just laying across her bed, looking at her nails and resting her head on her other hand. 

"Honey, there's a Stiles and Charli here to see you." Lydia's mom informs her. 

Without looking away, she mumbles, "What the hell… is a Stiles?" I try not to laugh, but Stiles elbows me. 

Stiles looks at Mrs. Martin, almost offended. "Uh, she took a little something to ease her nerves." She moved so we could go in. "You can go in." She continues. 

We both thank her and she leaves the door open behind us. Stiles looks back as she walks away while I make myself comfortable in a chair that's in the corner of her room as Stiles approaches her. Lydia looks back at him and places a hand on her hip. 

"What are you doing here?" She asks.

"We were making sure you were okay." Stiles replied. You came to make sure she was okay. I came because this was my only source of entertainment for the day. 

"Hmm." She barely replies and makes a weird sound with her mouth. "Why?" She continues as she pats the bed. Omg, she's is so freakin high… this is gonna be interesting

He sits down where she patted. "Because we were worried about you today." He tells her. I roll my eyes. Uh… you care about her. I'd push her in front of a bus if I knew I could get away with it… 

"How are you feeling?" He asks her. She starts caressing his arm. Okay, this is starting to get uncomfortable…

"I feel…" She gets close to his face. "...fantastic." Oh yeah, she's definitely high…

Stiles clicks his tongue and inhales sharply, letting out a chuckle. "Oh!" He quickly snatches up her meds that are on her bedside table. He reads the name of it and shows it to me. I almost start laughing, but instead I come up with a winning idea. 

"I bet you can't say I saw 'I saw Susie sitting at the shoe shine shop ten times fast." I smirk. Stiles gives me dagger eyes, then reverts his attention back to Lydia. She takes a minute before she replies. 

"I saw Shusie…" she stops. Stiles and look at each other. I raise my eyebrows and he whips his hand under his chin to signal for me to cut it out. "I shaw…" She tries again. I giggle. Stiles puts the pill bottle back. 

"I saw…" she trails off, staring into space. Stiles and I notice something isn't right. 

"Lydia, what did you see?" Stiles asks, placing his hand on hers. 

"Something…" she trails off. 

"Something like… like a mountain lion?" Stiles ask. 

"Mountain Lion…" she repeats.

"Are you sure it was a mountain lion or are you saying that because that's what the police told you?" I ask her as if I was talking to a child. 

"A mountain lion." She repeats again. 

Stiles grabs her stuffed giraffe. "What is this?" He shows it to her. She looks at it dazed. "A mountain lion." She replies, almost childlike. 

"Okay..." Stiles retorts, then puts the stuffed animal back. 

"She is so dru--" I begin to say, but stop as soon as she puts her head in Stiles' lap, passing out, making his whole body react.��

I walk over and help her off of Stiles as he slides off of the bed, which wakes her up, makes her prop herself up with one arm and face us. 

"Okay, well we're just gonna go, uh, let you get back to the whole… Post Traumatic Stress thing." I tell her as I start closing the door. 

"Mmm, stay." She replies weekly. Stiles is quick to go back in while I'm still standing in the doorway, waiting on him so I can get home and start my training. 

Stiles looks around, shocked and then points to himself, "Me? Me stay? You want me to stay?" He asked surprised. 

"Mhm." She mumbles, patting the spot on the bed in front of her, weakly smiling. Is he really dumb enough to go for this? 

He quickly sits down. "Yes, please." She tells him as she inches closer. I roll my eyes and close the door then go sit in the jeep and text my dad. 

Charli: sorry Dad. Running late, needed to stop & drop off homework 2 Lydia

I lean back and rest my head on the headrest as I wait for Stiles to finish up his little rendezvous with Lydia, who apparently wants to get with everybody. I'm getting ready to text him when I see him rushing out. He hops in on the driver side.

"Wow, thirty seconds… that's the best you could do?" I joke.

He gives me a look, then starts up Roscoe. "We gotta try to call Scott again." He informs me.

"Why?" I ask. He looks me in the eyes. "Because I think I know what that was that attacked you guys last night."

"Well, you're on your own for this one, cause I promised my dad I'd be home right after school." I remind him as I look out the window.

"C'mon, Charli! I need your help in this too! I mean, you know more about this supernatural stuff than I do." He begs as he drives us home.

Sorry, Stiles. After last night, my dad needs to know exactly where I am and what I'm doing at all times…" I look at him. "In fact, I can guarantee that he's gonna be pissed that I wasn't home twenty minutes ago." I continue in a matter factly tone. "Do you really wanna piss off my dad?" I finish.

He exhales sharply. "No, I guess not." He mumbles.

"Okay, then I need to go home." I insist. 

~ 

My dad is in the kitchen when I get home. 

"For someone who doesn't eat, you sure do spend a lot of time in the kitchen." I remark as I cross my arms over my chest.

"Well you seem to be back to normal." He chimes.

"Not really…" I sigh and sit at a stool placed in front of the kitchen island and put my head down. "I couldn't sleep a wink last night." I continue. 

I pick my head back up and rest it in my hand, looking down at the counter, picking at the skin around my thumbnail. "When I did, all I could see was that face...those red eyes." I tell him, starting to tear up. 

He comes around the island and places a comforting hand on my back and rubs in small circles and just looks at me with understanding eyes. I look up at him. 

"How do you get used to it, Dad? How do you get used to facing creatures like them and not have nightmares or PTSD?" I ask softly.

Honey, I don't sleep. I never did, but your mother…" he trails off, looking away. I look at him, hoping he'll finish that sentence. He does, "...your mother would always say 'it comes with the territory, but if I can live, knowing that I'm protecting others and protecting my family, then it's all worth it'..." 

I look down at my hands. He pats my back. "One day… one day, you'll understand what she means, Charli." He tells me softly.

"But for now, I want you to get your homework done before I get back." He pats my back then starts walking away. 

I quickly turn around. "B--but what about training?" I ask cautiously.

That can wait. What can't wait is parent teacher conference." He explains as he puts on his black peacoat and adjusts the collar. 

"Shit…" I mumble as I put my head down. 

"You forgot didn't you?" He asks as he grabs his keys from the wall hook. I just nod my head slowly, looking at him with my bottom lip poking out. 

"Well, I'm assuming I'm going to hear all good things,right?" He asks, placing his hands on his hips. 

"You should...unless of course there's a teacher that's out to get me." I joke. He rolls his eyes and chuckles. 

"Stay here. Be good. Get your homework done…" he says as he starts walking down the hallway, then stops and points at me. "...and no boys." He finishes sternly.  

"Not even Stiles?" I ask sweetly.

"Especially Stiles. I see the way you two look at each other." He uses his hands to signal the eyes to eyes motion. "Why don't you call Allison or Lydia, or another girlfriend or something? Why does it always have to be boys?" He asks, with his arms half out. 

"Because boys don't care about shopping or makeup or what dress is perfect for homecoming." I inform him. 

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say, kiddo. I'll see you later. Love ya." He calls back as he walks out of the kitchen. As soon as the door closes, I run upstairs, jump onto my bed and text Isaac...

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@softpeteparker @mummybear @ficus-fig @stiles-o-dylan24 @cry-btch @sporadiccookiebagel @inschi @wil2space @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @nicole-lynne @fullangelimagines

[swiftlythebest]

Au where Nico and Levi were already established in season 14. Maybe Levi is talking about this hot boyfriend he has and nobody believes him but then Nico comes and they're all shocked and Levi is just like i told you so. Nico's just confused lol.

Okay, this one took a bit. I was debating for a while whether I should rewatch Season 14, but I ultimately decided I was too busy to be able to commit to that. Therefore, if this differs from canon (beyond the obvious AU aspect), that’s all on me and my lack of rewatch. I could see myself continuing this because it does feel a little open-ended. I really like the prompt and hope the execution was as fun and fluffy as I wanted it to be. I wrote this in the wake of buying Lover Fest tickets, which was a nerve-wracking mess so I hope this fic is more coherent than I feel at the moment. It’s a bit longer so a lot is under a cut. I hope you enjoy! 

“...But then my boyfriend called so she had to calm down, at least for a bit,” Levi Schmitt took a bite of his sandwich as he finished the story chronicling his mother’s latest freakout. He expected some laughs or maybe a few understanding nods but was instead met with five confused expressions.

“I’m sorry, your what now?” Taryn Helm was the first to snap out of whatever trance the five other interns had fallen under.

“My mother. That was a story about my mother. Duh.” Levi rolled his eyes at Taryn’s question.

“I think she was asking about the boyfriend part.” The interns nodded at Sam Bello’s suggestion.

“Oh, have I not mentioned him? Huh. Yeah, my boyfriend.” Levi shrugged, focusing his attention back on his lunch.

“Is he hot?” Dahlia Qadri smacked Vik Roy’s arm at the question. “Ow! What, you were all wondering too!”

“Who, my boyfriend?”

“No, your fish.” Casey Parker was already getting fed up with this conversation and couldn’t suppress an eye roll at Levi’s expense.

“I think so.” Levi dug his phone out of his pocket and pulled up a photo of a tall Asian man with a chiseled face, swoopy hair, and magnificent muscles. He was smiling fondly at the camera, as though the photographer were his favorite person in the world. 

“Glasses, you can’t just Google ‘hot guy’ and use some image result. We’re not gonna believe that,” Roy scoffed.

“What? No! That’s Nico! That’s my boyfriend, Nico!” Levi turned the phone towards him as though checking he had the right picture.

“That’s the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. You’re telling me he’s not only real but your boyfriend?” Sam raised her eyebrows almost to her hairline as everyone else looked expectantly at Levi.

“I… he… we… we overlapped a bit when I was in college and he was in med school. When the pre-med students would visit the med school, he always sought me out. Wanted to show me whatever stuff he was working on. We became study buddies and then friends and then best friends.” Levi shrugged through the story, trying to downplay it.

“But you slept with Jo!” Taryn exclaimed.

“We got together after that. I was venting to him about the whole ‘Glasses’ thing and how I’d never get a job here. We stayed up all night on the phone, me freaking out and him listening. He flew out the next day and showed up on my doorstep. I guess he sort of proclaimed his love for me? He said he’d loved me since we first met and hearing me so upset on the phone made him realize he needed to step up and give me something good. I don’t know.” Levi fiddled with his fingers, looking down after baring his soul.

When he looked up, the other interns were all just staring at him. Roy broke the silence with a big laugh.

“Yeah, okay. Here’s a tip, if you want us to believe you, don’t make it seem like he was the one chasing you. It just makes no sense.”

Levi looked hurt and confused, “But… that’s what happened!”

“Okay, prove it. Call him,” Roy smirked.

“I can’t. He just got off a 48-hour shift and I like to let him sleep.” 

“Hm, convenient.” While Roy was still enjoying the teasing, the other interns started to look uncomfortable and guilty. Thankfully, Jo walked in just then to give out their assignments.

“Are you too hot for me?” Levi asked as soon as Nico answered his FaceTime.

“Well hello to you too, love.” Nico smiled, used to his boyfriend’s bluntness.

“Yeah, yeah, hey, what’s up? But are you too hot for me?”

“What does that even mean?”

“Like, you’re hot. That’s a known fact. But are you too hot for me? Are we horribly mismatched?” Levi fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt, suddenly more self-conscious than he usually was when speaking to Nico.

“You’ve literally been the object of my fantasies for years now, so I’d say you’re pretty hot.” Levi choked at this comment, eliciting a deep laugh from Nico.

“I’m serious though.” Levi’s voice was small, smaller than Nico had ever heard it. 

“What brought this on?” Nico did away with his teasing tone.

“I mentioned you to the other interns. They didn’t believe that you were my boyfriend after I showed them your picture. They said it made no sense and there’s no way you were the one pining for me all these years. They thought I got a picture off of Google.” Levi gave a sad smile and a soft sigh.

Nico furrowed his brow in annoyance and confusion, “They didn’t believe you?”

“No. Why would they? It is definitely illogical.”

“I love it when you talk Vulcan to me.” Levi gave him a put-upon look, “What does it matter? You know how I feel about you, right? You know you’re my guy.”

“I know. I know! It shouldn’t matter. But I never even thought about our mismatched looks until today.”

“Look, I know you’re way hotter than I am but please don’t rub it in.” Levi gave a watery, surprised laugh, “I’m serious! Screw what other people think. I’m blown away by you. Floored. Overwhelmed. Okay?”

Levi sighed, “Okay. Okay, yeah. I’m sorry for spiraling, love. How was your day?”

“You never have to apologize to me for something like this. Never, okay?” Levi nodded, causing Nico to smile wide. “But my day was good! I’m starting to look at fellowships and my old mentor may have a lead for me.” 

Levi and Nico spoke for another two hours, only stopping when Levi almost began snoring, promising to pick it back up the next night. Even though there was still a nagging in the back of Levi’s mind, he fell asleep with a smile on his face.

A few weeks, and many failed attempts to prove his relationship, later found the Grey + Sloan interns huddled together by a nurses’ station, waiting for their assignments.

“Levi!” All six interns’ heads whipped around at the excited shout, eyes landing on a suited man rushing in their direction.

“Nico! Wh- you’re here! What are you doing here?!” The man swept Levi up into a hug, picking him up slightly, a dazzling smile taking over his handsome face.

“I wanted to surprise you! I had an interview here for my fellowship and I took a few days off so I could see you.” They gazed at each other, matching smiles on their faces, too caught up in their moment to pay any mind to the gaping interns next to them.

“Wait, you’re that guy! The one Glasses keeps trying to convince us is his boyfriend!” Sam Bello snapped her fingers as the pieces slid into place, the other interns nodding next to her at the realization.

Nico turned his head, giving the other five people his attention, arms still around Levi, “I am his boyfriend. Hi, Nico Kim. Current resident at the Mayo Clinic, but I’m hoping to get a fellowship here.”

Levi smacked his chest, drawing Nico’s attention back towards him, “Why didn’t you tell me?! I thought San Francisco was your first choice!”

“Nah, you’re here. Plus, my mentor may be getting an attending job here so I’d work with him. I wanted to surprise you, love.”

“So this is real? This is a real thing?” Helm had a small smile on her face. Having spent more time with Levi over the last few weeks, she’d grown quite fond of the clumsy man and liked seeing him so happy.

“It’s so real. The realest.” Nico grinned at Helm.

“Wow, okay. Sorry to have doubted you, Schmitt.” Casey patted Levi’s shoulder as Sam and Dahlia nodded in agreement, wide-eyed.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I stand by my disbelief.” Roy stood with his arms crossed as everyone rolled their eyes at his stubbornness, ignoring him in favor of getting to know Nico.

The interns (minus Roy) and Nico chatted for a few more minutes, Nico’s arm slung casually around Levi’s waist. Levi beamed as his coworkers got along so well with his boyfriend, glad they finally believed him. Not that he needed any sort of validation from them because he knew the man next to him loved him no matter what, which was all that really mattered. 

I’m (hopefully) back on my bullshit, so send in prompts, if you want!

[purplesurveys]

1057

survey by lets-make-surveys

1 - When was the last time you had a roast dinner? What kind of meat or vegetarian option did you have with it? That’s not really a thing we do here, but for our noche buena dinner we did have roast chicken with rosemary as one of our dishes. It was surrounded with bangus (milkfish), lumpia with cheese, callos, baked macaroni with cheese, and mashed potatoes with gravy. My family has never been traditional when it comes to Christmas food and I’ve never tried hamon or queso de bola.

2 - When was the last time you drove or travelled for over an hour? Where did you go? It is for sure going to be today because we’ll be driving to Laguna to visit my dad’s family wearing our face masks, face shields, equipped with alcohol and hand sanitizer, and ready to follow social distancing.

3 - What’s your favourite kind of coffee to order (eg. cappuccino, latte etc.)? I’ve been ordering caramel macchiato in the last...6–7 years. If a coffee shop doesn’t serve it, the next thing I go for is whatever sounds like the sweetest drink on their menu, like a chocolate chip truffle frappe or something like that.

4 - When you get old, are you going to let your hair go grey or dye it instead? I will probably dye it for a bit, like what my grandma used to do. But I guess it’ll also depend; I might end up liking grey hair and not feel the need to change how it looks.

5 - What genre was the last book you read? Was it any good? I can’t remember which one it was but it was definitely a wrestler’s memoir; I must’ve read around four this year. The best ones I read are always of Chris Jericho since he has fantastic stories but he also knows how to write well. A lot of wrestlers have great stories, but are so-so in writing.

6 - Did you ever wear braces on your teeth? Yeah, briefly from the end of middle school to freshman year of high school. I need to get braces again, though.

7 - When was the last time you were relieved about something? What caused you to feel that way? Continued from earlier today. We brought both dogs to my dad’s family’s place today and I was glad that they were fast asleep on our drive back home and that neither felt bad and puked.

8 - Where was the last place you went that required you to wear a mask? Are you used to having to wear one now? Everyone is required to wear masks as long as they find themselves outdoors, period. I wear one even if I’m just walking one of my dogs in our backyard. I’m definitely more used to it now, compared to months ago when I had just started going out again and would be forgetful when it came to masks.

9 - How often do you receive calls from unknown numbers? Do you ever answer them? I get them a lot more often now that I’m working and have to coordinate with third-party people...I get unknown numbers once or twice a week. As much as it irritates me, I have no choice but to answer all of them now.

10 - What’s your favourite condiment to have with sausages or hot dogs (or the vegetarian equivalent)? Whenever I have a sausage/hotdog in a bun, I’d be glad to simply have mayonnaise on it.

11 - Which fictional character can you relate to the most? Is this a character from film, TV or a book? Monica Geller from Friends.

12 - Do you groom your eyebrows? If so, how? Nah, haven’t in a long time. It’s just not something I’ve ever particularly cared about. Whenever I have to, I just shave them. I also haven’t had a trichotillomania episode with my eyebrows, which is a relieving thing to realize.

13 - Did you get “told off” for anything the last time you went to the dentist or was everything okay? My last trip went smoothly. I just had a tooth extracted and there wasn’t really anything to reprimand me for since the tooth was already damaged.

14 - Would you rather get a starter or dessert? Have always been more of a savory girl than sweet, so I’ll go with the starter.

15 - Have you ever been involved with the police? Did you find them to be helpful? I mean...I guess? Kind of? I wasn’t arrested by any means, but I was a journalism student, so *shrug* pretty self-explanatory lol. There was one time in one class where we were all required to write a story covering the police beat, so I had to stay at a police station in Manila and wait for any tips or leads to come in. I was in freshman year and was absolutely scared, but I did have a classmate/friend with me ‘cause we were in the same class and she needed a lead as well.

16 - Are you tired at the moment? Is there a specific reason you feel that way? I am extremely tired and would pass out in a second if I let myself. But I had been out all day and didn’t have the chance to do anything I wanted to do whether it was doing embroidery, watching 2 Days 1 Night, or taking a survey, so I’m making up for all the lost time and powering through this survey.

17 - Are you big on colour coordination? Does that just apply to your outfits or to the rest of your life as well? It rarely comes to mind. It’s not something I feel the need to maintain, precisely because I’m very inconsistent with maintenance. Even though I know I possess the necessary effort and patience to organize a group of items by color, I also know it would be disorganized in less than a week.

18 - What shoes did you last wear? How long have you had them? Puma sneakers. Yep, I’ve had them for the past two years.

19 - When was the last time you wore make-up? What kind of make-up was it? September, for my first job interview. My items were simple; just an eyeliner pencil and some lip gloss.

20 - Have you ever slipped or skidded on the ice? Did you end up getting hurt? Continued from last night because I’ve been so sloppy at taking surveys lately, loooool. I’ve slipped a few times on ice skating rinks before. I don’t know if it’s the same experience, but whenever it happened to me I usually felt more embarrassed than hurt. It only hurt quite a bit when the cause of my fall was crashing into someone on the rink.

21 - Do you wear glasses or contacts? I wear glasses, but I already need to change mine since my eyesight has gotten worse and the lens that are on my current pair aren’t for me anymore.

22 - Do you own any photo albums? Are they dedicated to special occasions or just a random selection of photos? My mom made several photo albums for her kids from our childhood days so each of us have lots of photos from age 0 to about 7 or 8. I haven’t made a photo album just for myself, though I really should. Making memories with a film camera and having them developed still sounds very appealing to me.

23 - What was the last reason for you using a spoon? I was mixing my coffee to make sure all the granules are mixed into the water.

24 - Did your state/region go into lockdown or similar back when Covid hit in March? What did you do to pass the time while you were stuck at home? Of course. I would be more surprised to hear of a city or region anywhere in the world that did not go into lockdown. March was a livelier, more optimistic time, so I tried out lots of new things while the lockdown was still fresh and no one had any clue for how long it would actually pan out, and continue to pan out until the literal end of the year. I played the Switch for longer hours, tried making dalgona coffee, watched Descendants of the Sun, pulled more all-nighters, revisited computer games from my childhood, and did my thesis chapter by chapter with Andi.

25 - What’s your favourite meal of the day - breakfast, lunch or dinner? In my family, lunch and dinner are very identical so I’d go with either of them.

26 - Who was the last person you texted? How do you know that person? I have not touched my phone in a while, believe it or not...I haven’t needed it much during the holiday break. I think it was my cousin? He’s a relative, so I’ve known him since birth.

27 - What was the last thing you put in a sandwich? A hotdog.

28 - What was the reason behind the last time you shouted or raised your voice? I was at my dad’s family’s last night and I had ordered four boxes of empanadas from their business, and I was trying to hand over the P500 bill to my aunt (the total was like P300, but I gave them bonus to serve as my treat and my gift). I kept trying to give it and she kept rejecting it and putting it back in my pocket hahaha, so it became like a game for me to see which tiny space in the house I can squeeze the bill in so she can stop retorting. It turned into a funny cat and mouse situation and I ended up raising my voice a few times.

29 - Are you a citizen of more than one country? Would you ever use that advantage to move abroad? No.

30 - Do you know how to change a tyre? Could you do it without help? HAH, no. I am fucked if it ever happens and when it does, I really hope luck would be on my side that day and have a kind stranger that knows how to change tyres walk or drive by.

[delectablyalicee]

Nick Jonas’s New Assistant (part 6)

Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four  Part Five

You get a call one day, someone asking you to fill a personal assistant job. They give you little information as to who for, but when you found out, things get a little more interesting

I promised Nick that I would be back way before we had to go to dinner, and despite everything going on I wasn't going to break that promise. I showered at my apartment and threw on some comfortable clothes. Just bringing everything I needed to get ready with me in a bag. It was only a little after 3, so I didn't want to show up all ready for dinner. I also brought with me everything I needed for Joe's birthday party tonight. George had helped me pick out a present for him, since I don't really know Joe I was pretty lost on what to get, but thankfully George had been around him for years and knew the things he loves.

I also had secretly snagged George and his wife a few gifts while we were out to thank them for all they did for me today. I got George a tie I saw him looking at and picked out a beautiful diamond necklace for his wife, so when he came to pick me up I handed them both to him with a grin. "sorry they aren't wrapped up or anything, but I wanted to thank you both for today." I said as he took the bag with the gifts inside from me. When he sees what's inside I see a wide smile spread over his face, he thanks me and gives me the best hug he can while we're in a car before we head off to Nicks house. I'm not sure what I expect when I get there, but I really hope things are just back to normal, that's what I really need right now.

I say goodbye to George once we get to Nicks place, and he thanks me again and even gets out of the car to give me a proper hug. I squeeze him tight before we part ways and I turn to face Nicks front door. Okay, you got this. I walk up to the door, using my key to open it. Once I step inside I hear noise coming from the living room, it sounds like the TV.

"It's just me" I called out.

"Hey, I'm in the living room" he calls back to me.

I slip off my shoes and set my stuff down on the counter before making my way toward the living room. There is a movie playing on the TV, nothing I recognize, and Nick is sitting on the couch. He turns his head to look at me and flashes me a smile. Relief fills me up. It's back to normal and I couldn't be happier. I grin back at him before falling down into my usual spot beside him on the couch.

We spent the next few hours sitting on the couch, watching movies just like we always did in our free time. Everything felt so normal, I couldn't be happier. The only problem is that... I'm still falling in love with him. It felt like this was more than him just being my boss, or him just being my friend, but it wasn't until I saw that girl in his bed this morning that I knew it was really true, but am I willing to give up my dream job? Am I willing to give up my best friend? I don't know... I don't know if I can do that. If I let it go past what we have now, and it doesn't work out, everything I love about my life will come to a screeching halt. I just don't think I can handle that.

I checked my phone, it was 5:30. Shit. I didn't realize it was that late.

"Fuck. We really should start getting ready, I don't want to be late, this is a huge meeting for you." I said, getting up from the couch. "Do you need to shower? Do you know what you are going to wear? Oh, also, do you have your present for your brother ready? I can get someone to get it together if not while we are gone" I let the words fall carelessly from my mouth as I make my way to the kitchen, Nick is notorious for putting things off, so I've gotten used to asking these questions. I can hear him chuckle from behind me, as he follows me to the kitchen, helping me with my bags. I turn around with a small laugh "What? It's literally my job to make sure of all those things." "True." He says, following me up the guest bedroom.

I had basically made the guest bedroom my room. There's been plenty of nights I just crashed here after getting home late or accidently falling asleep while we were hanging out. He sets my bag on the bed and immediately shewed him out of the room. "please go get ready, don't be late!" I speak sternly yet jokingly, closing the door once he is out of the room.

I step in front of the full-length mirror hung on the wall beside the closet and double check how I look. I smooth out the blouse I have on then pull on a cute, but casual pair of heels to top it off. I'm topping my hair off with some hairspray when I hear a knock on the door followed by Nicks voice "It's almost 6" I grab my purse off of the bed and open the door to greet him. "I know, and George is already outside waiting so let's get a move on."

Dinner went well. Nick always does great in interviews and thankfully the head of the magazine wasn't a complete asshole. Unfortunately, during my time working for Nick we have definitely run into a few of those. Although, he always impresses me with the way he handles them. Always smooth and graceful. We got back from dinner with a good amount of time to spare before we had to head to Joe's party. We both go our separate ways to get ready.

I step in front of the full-length mirror once again, I made my hair into tighter curls and added some volume. I have on the dress I picked out earlier today. It's a tight lacy black dress that hits me right in the middle of the thigh. It's perfect, not too long, not too short, but definitely sexy for sure. I have a cute pair of black pumps to top it off and some beautiful jewelry Louise picked out for me. The dress hugs my figure in all the right ways, and I really do feel great. All finished getting dressed I open the door and step out of the bedroom, greeted by Nick who looks as though he was just about to knock. His eyes immediately dart down, taking a glance at me from head to toe. I can't help but blush at his reaction.

"Wow... I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude and stare, but you really do look amazing..." he speaks but his eyes are still on my body. He's seen me dressed up for things before, but I usually keep it still pretty lowkey. Louise told me I needed to have a little fun with my outfit tonight, and I guess she was right. My cheeks are still burning and the fact that Nick cannot keep his eyes off my body is not helping anything. I playfully hit him in the shoulder with my purse.

"Okay okay, calm down pervy McGee. We have places to be... Oh, and you look wonderful yourself." I say as I start to make my way down the stairs. He really did look good, but then again, he always looks good. That's another thing that is impressive about him. It doesn't matter where we are going or what we are doing he looks great.

When we stepped outside it was weird not seeing George there, but I remembered he had plans with his wife. The man picking us up is named Nicko, he has driven us a few times before and is always a very nice guy.

"Wow, you look beautiful miss (Y/L/N)." he says as he opens the door for me. I thank him with a smile and slide into the backseat, Nick following right behind me.

"I guess I am going to have a lot of competition tonight." Nick says jokingly

I laugh, shaking my head.

Nick and I talked the whole drive, apparently, since we barely talked all morning we had a lot to catch up on that we didn't get through when we were watching movies. The drive seemed to go by quickly because before I knew it we were pulling up to a gorgeous house. It was a little more rugged and modern than Nick's and there were people flowing into the huge front doors with gift bags in hand. I did see a few familiar faces, as well as a lot I didn't know. I knew the birthday party would be a big deal, but people were coming in droves, and I really did not expect that. Although, I am excited to have some fun. I am here tonight as Nick's friend and not his assistant, which will make having fun a lot easier. Nicko stops the car and gets out to open the door for us, Nick steps out and thanks him and I follow doing the same. He offers me his arm as usual and I take it, walking up to the doors.

We are almost immediately greeted with hellos, I'm sure Nick knows most of the people here tonight, so I expect it to be filled with a lot of mingling. As soon as we step inside we are handed drinks which we both take graciously. Nick politely steps us away from the people we were talking to on the way in and keeps our arms locked tightly together so we don't lose each other in the crowd. He leans in close to me before he speaks so I can hear him.

"I want to find Joe, I texted him before we came and made him stay put so we don't end up never seeing him tonight. I want him to meet you."

His last few words spread goosebumps over your body. He is really making this whole "trying to remain professional" thing almost impossible. I am honestly surprised I haven't broken sooner. The things he says to me come out of his mouth like butter. Smooth and warm. Like if you were able to touch them they would melt instantly against your skin. Just the simple words "I want him to meet you" have me swooning and considering Nick flirts with me any chance he gets, tonight should be interesting.

Note: I promise things are going to get a little more fluffy, and romantic and steamy ;) here soon lol I hope you guys are enjoying! I always love feedback too!

[patsdrabbles]

Duet

Title: Duet Fandom: Dhani Harrison; Jakob Dylan Pairing: Dhani Harrison/Jakob Dylan Rating: Gen Word Count: 2054 Summary: “Anyway, you remember his cover of Must Be Santa?” “Oh my god.” In which Dhani is invited to do a Rolling Stone interview with a mystery person, allegedly an old friend he hasn't seen in a long time. And he is certain he won't get any sleep until he finds out just who that person is...  A/N: A dear friend of mine wrote a gem of a Dylarrison Jr. fic called “They’ve Trapped Us Boys” which made me low-key start to ship this ship. They I had the idea for this fic and let’s just say, I ended up giving myself a whole lot of feels. ❤ Thank you @szappan  and @savoy-brown-shoe for the kind support of this rarepair fic and lots of thanks to my amazing beta, @smittyjaws <3333 Anyway, this is 100% fluff, so please enjoy ❤

(links to AO3 and @ill-be-your-tennessee-lamb‘s fic are in the reblogs!)

It all began, as these things have a tendency to, with a harmless enough enquiry.

Dhani had received an invitation to do an interview with the Rolling Stone magazine sometime late in November. Now, that was nothing unusual in his books. He had done his fair share of interviews over the years, in part due to being his father’s son, in part due to long being a musician of his own right. Now, this invitation, though? It caught his attention far more than any usual invitation to an interview would have done. Because it required some navigation, some shuffling dates around in his calendar – and someone else’s. Just that Dhani didn’t know who that mysterious other person was, that was supposed to be interviewed together with him.

Dhani reread the letter a good couple dozen times.

It said that he was to be interviewed together with someone he already knew. Well, he thought. I do know quite a lot of people…

Furthermore, it was someone also from the music field. Kinda obvious. He scratched his head. Still doesn’t limit the amount of people it could be.

The letter also hinted that it was someone he had known for a long time - long was relative, wasn’t it? – and someone he likely hadn’t seen in a long time either, given what was known to the magazine and the public. It was supposed to be a fun sort of reunion.

That last part was what Dhani couldn’t get off his mind. Sure, he was thrilled and excited that they were – hopefully – trying to do something nice for him, but... Just whom was he to be reunited with?

He knew that it was supposed to be a surprise. He knew better than to get impatient about this matter. And yet.

So, a few days after the date for the interview was finally settled on, he found himself unable to sleep and opened his messenger app.

And created a group chat with all the people he could think of that the Rolling Stone might want him to meet.

 Dhani: Hi :) Any of you doing a Rolling Stone interview with a mysterious other person sometime mid-December?

Kris: Wtf mate it’s like 2am

Dhani: 2am where you are, perhaps

Kris: That’s fair

 Dhani yawned into his hand and replied immediately after Kris’s response.

 Dhani: 4am where I am

James: Not the one you’re looking for, btw. Sorry, pal

Dan: Nope

James: Want me to make enquiries?

Dhani: Nah, they probably won’t like that. Thanks tho

Dhani: Seriously, though. None of you guys were invited to do a RS interview mid-December? With me?

Jakob: Go to sleep, Dhanster

Dhani: Don’t tell me what to do, Dylan

Rufus: lol

Lily: Seriously, could you guys be any more married? :’D

Jakob: You know that’s not possible

Dhani: GUYS. Did y’all just evade my question??

Jakob: You should stop fretting abt this Dhani, it’s gonna be fine

Dhani: *eye-rolling emoji*

Jakob: Srsly, go to sleep Dhani, it’s late af

Lily: Yeah, we should all head to bed now. Sleep well, kiddos

Rufus: night, my American friends

Kris: Nite

 Dhani sighed and put his phone away. His friends seemingly weren’t involved in all of this. He should probably try to get some sleep instead.

Rolling onto his back, he pulled the covers up to his chest and squinted. There was still light coming from the other side of the bed. Dhani rolled onto his side and stretched so that he could reach farther across the body that was blocking his movement. Then, he swatted lightly at the phone emanating the light in question.

“Cat.”

“Hmpf.” Dhani pouted, but he only got a grin in reply.

“Who are you to judge?”

“Goddammit.”

But it was only a few seconds later that the light on the other side of the bed was turned off and Dhani found himself wrapped into a warm, tight embrace. He fell asleep within minutes, the mystery interview completely banished from his mind.

 The day of the interview came sooner than anticipated. The usual whirl that seemed to catch everyone before the holidays didn’t spare Dhani either, and before he could say “oh, I should have fuckin’ known it”, he found himself seated in a nice room at the Rolling Stones’ headquarters, right next to none other than Jakob Dylan.

Very much embarrassed at how he had allowed Jakob to fool him, he just buried his head in his hands and groaned theatrically. Jakob only looked at him and snorted.

“I never told you I wasn’t the mystery person!”

“You told me you wouldn’t be doing any more interviews this year??”

Jakob scratched his chin. “Okay, that’s fair. But I said that before I was asked to do this with you.” He grinned and didn’t falter even a tiny bit under Dhani’s dark gaze. He shrugged: “It’s not my fault, is it? And I have a feeling that this is gonna be fun, Dhanster.”

“Oh my god, please don’t call me that in public,” Dhani just breathed out in a hushed voice. “Seriously, Jake.”

Jakob nodded. “Alright. But in turn, you’re gonna try to relax now, okay?”

This was the moment that their interviewer chose to appear. He greeted them cheerfully and explained that Tony, who had done some interviews with each of them respectively over the years, wasn’t doing this interview because the whole editorial team had sent him on a much needed vacation.

“Guy doesn’t know when to take a break. He hadn’t taken a day off in three years,” Ryan explained to them. He sat down opposite of them and quickly looked through his note cards. When he looked back up, the cards in one hand, his phone ready to record in the other, he seemed to notice something that made him halt, however. Two shiny rings. He grinned.

“Huh, didn’t know you guys had gotten hitched.”

Dhani’s breath caught in his throat. Jakob noticed and placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

“Would you wanna talk more about your significant others today, or-“

“Maybe later.” Jakob gave him a smile and they began the interview, Ryan all too eager to hear whether the two of them were appropriately thrilled to have met again and be able to do this interview together. Dhani actually found himself relaxing after a while and had to suppress a laugh several times. Judging by the twinkle in Jakob’s eyes, he felt the same way about the interviewer’s excitement.

Sooner than anticipated, the interview was over and Ryan invited them to play a song together. This, too, had been hinted at in the enquiry letter they both had received last month, but Dhani hadn’t prioritized it as much as finding out who his interview partner was going to be. Now he wished he had.

“Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer is always a favorite around this time of year?” Ryan suggested with a smirk. Dhani couldn’t suppress a snort and heard Jakob laughing next to him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jakob giving him a nod and turned around. Their hands brushed when he did and Jakob’s smile widened.

“You know that Christmas album my dad recorded?”

“How couldn’t I? You didn’t stop mentioning it that holiday season.”

“True.” Jakob grinned at the memory. And the holidays that year spent with his dad.

“Anyway, you remember his cover of Must Be Santa?”

“Oh my god.”

“Yes.”

Dhani gave him a searching glance, then gave in. He waved his hand at Jakob. “Gimme your phone, I need to listen to the song again to at least make an attempt to get it right.”

Jakob obeyed – all too happily, if he was being honest – and turned toward Ryan. “Can we get a couple of additional studio musicians to do this in, say, an hour?”

Ryan beamed like Jakob had just hung the moon. “Sure!” And, after showing them to one of the studios, off he was.

After Dhani was done listening to the song a couple of times, they started practicing with the studio guitars they had been provided with. It was fast-played chords and almost shouting the lyrics breathlessly into each other’s face as fast as they could from there on.

“This is insane,” Dhani said when they took a breather, but he was grinning, enjoying the silliness more than words could express.

“You know what kind of life you agreed to when-“

The door burst open and in came Ryan, a studio band they didn’t know, as well as two cameramen with their equipment.

It was a blast. That was the only way to put it. They made it through the song on their third or fourth take, but the second the cameras were off, Dhani collapsed into a fit of giggles and had to cling onto Jakob to steady himself.

“That was fun.”

His face was red and Jakob looked at him like he wanted to kiss him right then and there. Instead, he wrapped his arm around Dhani and pulled him up against his side. Dhani shuddered, but the smile didn’t leave his face.

“I should have hoped so.”

They thanked the studio band for the job well done as well as the fun that they had had, shook everyone’s hands and left to say goodbye to Ryan.

Jakob’s hand had long left Dhani’s shoulder and, after a tentative brush or two against his knuckles, was now firmly clasped in Dhani’s hand. They were smiling and their faces were still slightly red from singing the fast holiday song several times in a row when they left the room together.

It was their giddy and relaxed selves that ran into Ryan in the hallway. While they thanked him for the fun interview and jamming session, Ryan’s gaze wandered down to their joined hands and he smiled. Ah. He wouldn’t need to take Jakob up on his earlier offer to elaborate. He felt that he had gotten the right idea and wouldn’t ask – nor tell.

“You guys have a good evening, yeah?” He smiled at them and shook their respective free hand.

“Thanks, mate, you too,” Dhani smiled and looked at Jakob with a fond gaze. He gave a gentle tug on the other man’s hand and, after another smile and nod at Ryan, off they were.

Once they had put on their coats and were out of the building’s front door, he turned his head toward Jakob, only to find the other man already looking at him with a gentle smile on his lips.

“That was... a lot of fun, actually.”

Jakob grinned, just a tiny bit smugly. “You did choose your spouse wisely, after all.”

Dhani just gave him an amused look out of the corner of his eye. “You didn’t choose too badly, either, I’d say.”

It took them only two seconds before they were laughing once again. And just like that, despite the freezing evening temperature, Dhani was feeling all giddy and warm again. To think he had stressed so much about finding out who his interview partner would be until earlier today...

“C’mon.” A gentle tug on Dhani’s hand. “I think dad wouldn’t mind us dropping by. Wanna go?” Jakob grinned as Dhani just buried his face in the crook of his neck. And didn’t move away.

“Huh. Dhanster?” Jakob asked and lightly poked Dhani’s back with his gloved hand.

“Don’t wanna move right now. You’re comfy.” His words were barely audible, as his face was hidden in the fake fur of Jakob’s winter coat. His cold nose was pressed against Jakob’s throat though, and Jakob tried to shift away from it – but to no avail.

“Alright, then. Then I’ll carry you.”

“Nooo.”

“Don’t tell me you still have your so-called polka dot PTSD,” Jakob half-teased.

Dhani only groaned and Jakob laughed.

“We’ve been married for how many years now?”

Dhani finally pulled back from Jakob’s neck and made a face as though he was pondering the question seriously.

“Not long enough for me to get over the polka dots. Never long enough.”

Jakob snorted and shook his head. Taking hold of Dhani’s hand again, he squeezed it in encouragement.

“So- you coming?”

Dhani gave a plaintive sigh for the sake of drama (mostly) but smiled back at Jakob and, squeezing Jakob’s hand back, nodded.

“Always.”