#if he did any more songs with his friend i don't have them unfortunately

[sleepanonymous]

Yes, that is a quote from Donnie Darko. More info below the cut.

[viennakarma]

My dearest friend and enemy

Part 1 | Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.

Word count: 7.8k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. Obviously we don't have all the facts with whatever happened to Lewis and Nico, but I have my own theories, that I tossed around this story here and there. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)

I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was getting way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

[If you have never listened to Tamino, or never heard this song, please do a favor to your brain and heart, and listen!]

Find me on Twitter!

PART 2 (END)

You wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry.

You repeated those words to yourself as you stared at your fucked up kart, it wasn’t even starting. You didn’t have any more money to repair it, and if you didn’t, then you wouldn’t be able to keep going in the competition.

“Hey, are you alright kid?” Someone stopped you, and your tears fell down. You used the sleeve of your overalls to wipe your face.

“I won’t make it to the final round of the competition,” you pointed to your kart.

The boy knelt down beside you, taking a look at your kart. It was the first time you really looked at him. He was a bit older than you, probably two or three years, since you had seen him in the next category, and you knew he was one of the best from what you could see.

He walked away suddenly, but came back a minute later with a tool box. He knelt down and started tinkering with your kart.

“What- what are you doing?” You asked crouching beside him. He only hummed, seemingly concentrating on his work.

After a few minutes of silence, he asked you to test to see if it would work, and you started your kart, and it did work.

“Oh my god!” You smiled, leaving the kart, “how- how much does it cost?”

“Don’t worry, I wanted to help,” he shrugged, putting back his tools.

“Are you sure?” You asked again.

“Yes,” he stood up, and as his eyes found yours, shining under the sunlight, you smiled at each other.

“Thank you so much!” You said, offering a hand for him to shake.

“I’m Fernando,” he said, and as you said your name back, he smiled a little shyly and just said, “I know.”

“You know?” You whispered.

“Yeah. I’ve seen you in your kart. You’re good.”

You bashed under his praise, cheeks warming and stomach full of butterflies.

From then on, you and Fernando became friends, always meeting up in karting competitions, despite being usually in different categories, since he was a bit older than you. But you’d always be seen together on those occasions, or either of you on the stands, cheering for the other. Your parents knew you were close friends, and after a while, your parents would take turns at taking you two for competitions, usually going together.

You met again when you got to the Spanish Junior Championship, it was your first time at that competition and it would be Fernando’s third. Your rivalry was mostly playful in that competition, you were still the best of friends, even when you got close to his score, you still managed to leave the rivalry on the track. When it ended and you stared up at Fernando from the second place podium, you felt proud of him, happy even. You understood that he had more experience than you, winning that competition three times in a row, and you always would have next year to catch up to him.

That day when he took your hand to walk back to his dad, he held your hand tight. And when they dropped you off at home, you winked at him.

“I’ll catch you next year.” You walked to the door hearing him and José Luis laughing back in the car.

You didn’t manage to catch him next year. Fernando reached new heights as he moved up to world championships. Life took you apart, and without your greatest opponent in the championship, you took it home for three years in a row.

The next few years, you and Fernando were mostly apart. The distance was eating you thin, even when you two managed to talk for a couple of hours on the phone, or whenever he sent you letters talking about his biggest achievements. You still saw each other over summer and winter, which was what mostly kept your bond strong. You also managed to kart for fun sometimes, or go for ice cream, or just sit on the porch of your house, talking about life. You two always shared an ice cream on your birthdays, a tradition that was born ever since you were 13, and you and Fernando gathered together every coin you had to be able to buy one ice cream cone that you happily shared sitting on a sidewalk.

“We’ll make it to Formula 1 one day, Nena.”

You laughed. Despite being the greatest dream of them all, by that time, it had been twenty years since the last woman had been in a Formula 1 car, really competing. You wanted to, so bad, but you didn’t want to get any hope for it to be crushed later on.

“You, most likely, Nano. You’re brilliant, I’m sure you’re going to be a world champion one day,” you said, playful, “just don’t forget us peasants when you’re rich and famous.”

“You have too much faith in me, Nena,” he shook his head.

“No, I just know stuff. When you get your world championship, I hope you will hear my voice in your head telling you I told you so.”

He laughed it off.

Fernando extended you a bottle of cheap wine, it was his way of celebrating your 18th birthday, now you were of age. The wine warmed you up, leaving a pretty stain in both of your lips. 

“What about that girl you liked? Are you dating her yet?” You asked to break the silence.

“No…” he shrugged then took the bottle from you to take a chug straight from it, “she’s not for me.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, even though he didn’t look particularly unhappy about it.

“Don’t be. It was just a silly crush,” his lips turned down, “The girls don’t find me attractive enough,” he shook his head, feeling shy for having this conversation with you, “and I don’t know, I’ve always been a little shy, I guess. I don’t have much experience in romance. None, if I’m being honest.”

“None?!” You sounded shocked at his lack of romance. He just shook his head. 

At eighteen you had your fair share of teen love, having crushes here and there, sometimes even sharing kisses under the bleachers at school. Fernando was your best friend and you knew him like no one, and you could see that he was lonely and feeling embarrassed, up until that point, his life had been school, karting and work to fund his karting.

“Would you like to?” You asked, suddenly turning to him after drinking a sip of courage from the wine bottle.

“Like to what?” He frowned.

“To be kissed?” You whispered, and looked behind you, inside your house, where your parents were inside.

Your heart raced faster than you ever did, his pretty eyes looking for your face, trying to find any sign of joking, like you were just being silly. But you were serious, looking at his face intently. You were about to back pedal when he nodded softly.

“What-” his voice failed, and he gulped nervously, “what should I do?”

“Just follow my lead, and you will feel what to do,” you said, extending a hand and holding his face, “close your eyes.”

He did, and you just closed the distance quietly, but when you had barely touched his lips with yours, he bursted out laughing, leaning back. You also laughed at the strangeness of the situation.

“It’s ok, we don’t have to, Nano” you recovered, but he shook his head, giggling.

“No, sorry, sorry! You’re my favorite person, I trust you,” he sighed, closing his eyes again.

You held his face, trying to get closer again, and this time he let you. With a soft press, you pecked his lips for a couple of seconds. You felt butterflies in your stomach, and they pushed you to push into his lips, mouth opening a little and him following your lead. One of his hands found your face, and you deepened the kiss. He was inexperienced but surprisingly patient, letting you lead and slowly picking your pace and moves. Your kiss turned into an almost make out session, lasting long minutes, with Fernando getting the hang of it with every passing second. When you parted, his cheeks and lips were red, and you two smiled nervously at each other.

“Was that ok?” You asked, suddenly insecure.

“More than ok,” he whispered back, “I think we-”

A loud noise from inside your house made you two jump away from each other, and a second later, your mom’s voice boomed through the door, reminding you of your curfew, and checking your watch, you noticed it was almost eleven.

“Sorry, Nano. I have to go,” you stood up and he followed you.

“See you Saturday to go karting?” He asked just to confirm the plans you had made earlier.

“See you,” you waved awkwardly before sprinting inside your house.

Skipping to your room, you locked the door behind you and pressed a hand to your lips, still warm from kissing your best friend. Going to your window, you pulled on the curtains and watched through the gap as Fernando left, calmly walking down the street.

You never talked about it. And when you met again at the end of the week, none of you mentioned the kiss, things quickly went back to normal as you two pretended it never happened. Over a few months, your heart never let you forget about the kiss you shared with your best friend, and whenever you laid in bed to sleep, your mind would wander back to that specific night. You spent months building up the courage to confess you had feelings for him, and you wanted to be more than friends. Your choice was to tell him on his birthday, when you usually would go for a birthday ice cream.

“I need to tell you something-” You said at the same time he muttered, “Can I tell you something?”

“Go ahead,” he said, gesturing to you, but at that point, your bravery quickly faded.

“No, you first. You’re the birthday boy!”

“Uh, I’m dating a girl. I’m going to introduce her to you and my family at the birthday party tonight.”

That moment, with a smile frozen on your face, a small part of you was ripped forever. The excitement and fear of a young love turned into stone at the pit of your stomach. To this day, you don’t know how you managed to not burst into tears that very moment. Instead, you kept smiling, asking Fernando for more details so he could get distracted and not notice the pain in your eyes.

Managing to bury what you decided to call a silly teen infatuation after a few months, your friendship with Fernando became even stronger everyday that passed. 

You made it to the international and European competitions, winning the former twice in a row, and the latter once. You were in the Euro Open when Fernando made it to Formula 1.

He told you personally, when he signed with Minardi, and you were so happy you jumped on his arms, hugging him tight and screaming.

“I told you! I told you!” You shouted, as he carried your feet from the floor, “My best friend is in Formula 1! Oh my god, Nano!” You let go of him, your smile barely fitting your face, “I’m gonna be insufferable! I’m claiming bragging rights right now!”

He only laughed at your happy ramble.

You balanced your competitions with working double shifts for almost two months, so you could afford to go to the Spanish Grand Prix the year of his Formula One debut. He didn’t win anything that year, but he still had your immense support every step of the way. When waves of self doubt came and left him shaken, you’d hug him and whisper softly how he was just a rookie, how he would still have time to prove himself.

“You’re gonna be one of the best there is, Nano.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

He also would show you support whenever your schedule at the Euro Open didn’t coincide with his at Formula 1. It was one of the best feelings to get to the podium and see your best friend as you held the trophy. When you finally found him after the podium, he hugged you for a moment, commenting on his favorite moments from your race. As you stood, he gestured to someone, and a beautiful girl came closer.

“Nena, this is my girlfriend, Lucia,” he pointed. Your smile froze for a second. Another one, since the girl from last year couldn’t handle the distance of dating someone who was constantly traveling the world.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You shook her hand, suddenly self conscious of your frizzy hair and sweat damp overalls. She was so pretty. So much prettier than you. 

Lucia was pretty and kind, a little bit clingy, but she treated you very well, and wasn’t jealous of your friendship with Fernando, different from the last one. All your flings never went as far as becoming boyfriend or girlfriend, so you decided to focus more on racing and trying to make a name for yourself.

“Fernando,” you called one of the rare days you two were both free and could laze around, this time, sitting on the ground of the garden, staring at the clear sky and sharing a pint of ice cream.

“Hm?”

“I talked to your dad, and you’re going to be free the day of the last race of the Euro Open, so I was wondering if you will come to see me become the champion?” You turned to him, a smile adorning your face.

“Confident, are you?” He teased your certainty that you would win the competition.

“Not confident, just focused,” you corrected him, and started explaining the date of the race, but as you talked, his smile quickly faded and you stopped.

“I’m sorry, Nena. It’s Lucia’s graduation that day, I can’t miss it.”

You swallowed, thinking it would matter so much to you that he’d be there, but at the same time, you didn’t want to be selfish or make it seem like you’re competing with the girl he loved. You tried to disguise the disappointment in your face, but he noticed. At that point he knew you for half of your lives, he knew very well when you tried to mask your sadness. And unfortunately, he had been on the receiving end of that sad face one too many times.

“Oh,” you nodded, “Don’t worry, I totally understand.”

Fernando pressed his lips thin, your meek voice doing nothing to soothe the squeezing in his heart.

The day you won the Euro Open, you could barely contain your happiness as you stood on the podium, showing your trophy to your parents, who were watching you all emotional. As the podium ceremony finished, you walked back to your parents, your mom wiping her tears and your dad the happiest. Then, you finally noticed Fernando was with them.

“Nano!” You hugged him.

“Congratulations, champion!” He said. Your heart was so full you thought it would explode, so all you managed to say were two words.

“You came.”

“You called.”

Later you found out through your mom, who found out through Fernando’s mom, who found out from Fernando’s dad, that Fernando and Lucia had broken up. They said it was because of the distance and the relationship didn’t last more than seven months. You couldn’t blame her, you as his best friend barely saw him that year either.

You became a reserve driver for Renault in 2003, meeting Flavio Briatore yourself after you won the Formula 3000 two years in a row. You knew that, by that time, Fernando had ties with Flavio, but the man assured you it had nothing to do with Fernando, and everything to do with you being extremely talented.

Still, that same week you found Fernando, to inquire if he had anything to do with Flavio’s invitation, but he assured you that you’d achieved that with your own merit. The unexpected chance to race came when by the end of the following year, Fernando’s teammate was fired by the end of the season. So you had to replace him for the remaining three races of the season, the team fighting for P2 in the constructors championship. The first two races you went alright placing P7 and P5, but still not where you wanted to place.

“Hey, you’re doing great, Nena,” Fernando told you right before the race started. He knew you were upset, frustration practically emanating from your body.

“Not as great as I can do,” you shook your head.

“Just do your best, ignore everything else.”

You nodded, before closing your overalls and gettin ready to get in the car. That race, you and Fernando managed to race just like in your karting days, with a silent partnership never seen before coming from Fernando. You placed a 2-3 podium, him ahead of you.

When you got out of the car, you jumped straight into his arms, screaming and celebrating. Your first ever podium in Formula 1.

During post race interviews you accidentally let out to the media that you and Fernando were childhood best friends, which they took as a personal reason to go digging into your lives.

Next season, Flavio signed you with the team. But before anything, he sat you down for a talk. He explained how Fernando would be top priority this year, you were a rookie, and they would offer you all the support but you had to help Fernando first.

“You will gain experience, work together with your best friend, and we can achieve great things this year. And depending on how good of a performance you show this year, next year you will be able to race for the championship, yes?” Flavio explained.

And you were fine with that, Fernando would be the main priority while you took the year to get used to the car, to being in an entirely new category, while helping your best friend reach his peak. It was the dream, finally. It was the thing both of you had daydreamed together, nothing could get in the way of that.

So you did just that. You kept your head down, fighting fiercely against your rivals, and keeping yourself out of the way whenever you and Fernando were close in a race. Your time would come, as Flavio had promised. That season you managed good results in the points, and even got five podium finishes, which landed you fourth in the drivers’ championship and managed Renault to win the constructors.

That day in Interlagos, during the Brazilian Grand Prix, you woke up knowing Fernando would become world champion. You didn’t tell him to not put any more pressure on him. He only needed a podium to mathematically become the champion of the world.

He finished P3, and you finished P7. Seeing Fernando radiantly happy, dancing, shouting and jumping was etched forever in your brain as one of your happiest memories. The way he eventually found you, holding you firmly against him, the both of you crying happy tears became headlines all around the world.

“I told you, didn’t I?” You broke the hug so you could stare into his red rimmed eyes.

“You did. You’re right more often than not, I’ve come to realize.” He whispered. When someone tried to put a mic in your faces, Fernando pushed it away.

“This is your moment, go.” You gestured to the other side, where he had to go before the podium.

Looking up from the ground to Fernando, you were so happy you thought your heart would burst open. And you couldn’t wait for it to be your turn, to feel this happiness the other way around.

That night, you, Fernando and the entire team got ready to party, to celebrate his championship. You dressed up to the nines, putting makeup and spending a good half an hour styling your hair. When you left the elevator, meeting the whole team at the lobby, they shouted and whistled saying you were pretty. It made you a bit shy but you liked the attention.

You and Fernando danced and drank like crazy that night, going strong all the way into the morning. When the party ended and you two sat on your suite balcony, watching the sun rise, you bought out an ice cream pint you had kept in the room minibar.

“How do you feel, Mr. World Champion?” You sat cross legged in front of him.

“Like a dream come true, sometimes I don’t even believe it’s real,” he said, staring into the horizon.

“Remember when we would talk about this moment?” You took his hand in yours, as he nodded, “Wow. This is great. I’m so happy for you, and happy for fifteen year-old Nano, the bright eyed boy that fixed my kart charge free.”

It’s barely a second after you finished speaking that Fernando leaned into your space and just kissed your lips. It took you a second to understand what was going on, but when his hand found your hair, you reciprocated. His lips, that had been cold from the ice cream quickly became warm under your ministrations. You held his shoulders and let him pull you closer, until you were straddling his lap. The kiss was messy, all over the place, clanking lips, teeth and tongue. You moaned softly as he squeezed your ass, and you pulled his hair at the nape, grinding down on his lap, making him groan too.

“We should not,” he said, breaking the kiss. You nodded, panting.

“Yeah, totally, we-” you tried to speak but he nipped at your neck and you lost all train of thought.

“No, we won’t ruin-” he tried again but you pulled his hair, forcing his head up so you could kiss him.

“You’re right-” you muttered against his lips, right before smashing it when you kissed him again. You stayed there, kissing, making out like you were teenagers again, too scared to reach for each other's clothes and take the next step.

When the sun was fully up in the sky, and whatever was left of the ice cream had melted, your alarm rang, and you and Fernando parted. You were about to invite him to sleep with you for a few hours when he paused, his face worried. Fernando took one of your hands.

“This is a one time- thing, right?” He frowned, and you swallowed before nodding.

“Yes, of course.” You don’t correct him with memories of your eighteenth birthday.

“I just, I don’t want anything to ruin our friendship,” he stared at you, visibly scared for your friendship, and you didn’t have the heart to ask for more.

“It won’t ruin, I promise. If you want, we can forget it ever happened,” you said, hoping and praying he would change his mind. But he looked relieved at your words.

After he left, you sat down on the bed, disheartened, knowing that these scraps of affection would have to be stored in a safe spot inside your heart, and would be nothing more than memories, and what-ifs you’d only dare to look at late in your sleepless nights. You wondered how many times he would have to undervalue your romantic affections for you to understand he didn’t want you and never would. That was the second time you shared a moment, and the second time he had dismissed it. It’s not meant to be, you whispered to yourself.

When the new season started, you had gotten a grip over your feelings for him, focused on moving on. Being in love with your best friend for around a decade was pathetic enough.

Fernando was great during the start of the season, scoring two wins within the first three races. And despite not being the results you wanted, you placed top ten in all of them, even managing one podium finish.

When the fourth race came, though, it was when you and Fernando started to collapse. It was a very carefully plotted race for you and your team, and after managing your tyres with care, you didn’t have to pit twice. And you won, for the first time ever, you stood on the top of the podium. Unfortunately, Fernando didn’t get a podium. Holding your trophy, you looked down from the podium looking to your team, and searching for Fernando.

He wasn’t there, and your heart shattered a bit with his absence.

Maybe he had a problem and couldn’t be there for you. Maybe he was busy.

You went down to speak to the press, happily talking about strategies, how you and your team masterminded it, how you managed to preserve your tyres for longer than expected.

“How do you and Fernando manage to balance your friendship out of the track with the rivalry happening inside the track?” Someone asked. You were caught by surprise, taking a few seconds to actually compute the words he said.

“Well, I haven’t seen Fernando yet, but I believe he’d be happy for my good result as much as I’d be happy for him,” you told him, but immediately regretted it as the reporter had a gotcha expression on his face.

“Well, actually, this is what Fernando said a few minutes ago when he gave an interview-”

The man gave you a tape recorder attached to a pair of headphones, and your stomach filled with dread as he pressed rewind and play.

“Fernando, today’s win puts your best friend as a contender for the championship, what do you say?”

“Well, I believe she is talented, but too young and not yet ready to face me and actually compete for the championship.”

His voice was bitter, like he didn’t see you as nothing but a bug under his shoes. Instead of making you sad, it only left you seething in anger, but as you removed the headphones, you controlled the urge to smash the headphones on the nearest wall and smirked coldly to the camera that was waiting for your reaction.

“What do you think about Fernando saying you’re still not ready to become world champion?” The reporter urged, waiting for a beef that he would successfully get.

“Well, I guess he feels threatened by me, so I’ll take that as a compliment,” you shrugged, not caring about adding more fuel to the fire. If Fernando thought he could go running his mouth and you’d be fine or not jab him back, he was in for a surprise.

After wrapping up the interviews, you finally managed to go to your room and take a shower. You were getting ready to leave when Fernando found you again, walking into your room without bothering to knock. You didn’t even look at him, just kept packing your bag.

“Nena…”

“Don’t fucking talk to me,” you shook your head, holding on to the anger instead of allowing yourself to be sad. How he was able to ruin your first ever win in Formula 1, you couldn’t know.

“Nena, please, just-” He tried again, blocking your path to the door.

“No! Fuck you, Fernando!” You took a step back, letting your bag fall to the floor, an accusatory finger pointing to his face, “How dare you do this to me? You know how many times I cheered for you? How many times I wasn’t even on the podium and still, I was happy for you? Huh? I was there for you every step of the way, and you can’t be there for me once? Now you go out there and disregard my win in front of the whole world? What did I ever do to you for you to say that shit about me?” Your voice trembled, but you refused to cry in front of him, “I’d never do that to you, you selfish asshole.”

“I shouldn’t have said that, but I was pole and didn’t even manage to turn it into a podium? I was upset, the strategy fucked me up! I know I should not have said that! You’re right! I was selfish and an asshole-”

“Damn right you were!” You shouted, then picked up your bag, “I don’t want to see you right now.”

You walked past him, leaving at once.

That night, you went to celebrate with the team and without your teammate, you got pretty wasted, dancing and drinking like you had never done before. You refused to let yourself feel down because of Fernando’s big mouth. Dancing the night away, you didn’t stop even when people on the team asked you to, since you were getting out of hand. You were grinding on a stranger, dancing to reggaeton when you felt a hand on your arm.

“Let’s go,” the voice said and you turned, seeing Fernando in front of you. He looked like he was dressed in pajamas and hair all disheveled.

He was asleep when someone on the team called him because they wanted to leave and you were being difficult, so they hoped that your best friend could come pick you up and convince you to leave.

“Excuse me?!” You pulled your arm from him.

“We’re leaving!” Fernando said, pointing to where your team was, seeing it empty, “you’re not going to stay here alone.”

Begrudgingly, you let him lead you outside, one hand in your arm, and the other one on your back. You stumbled in your heels, and Fernando pressed you against the wall, kneeling to remove your shoes and help you walk better outside. Silently, he drove you back to the hotel, while you were with your arms crossed and sulking.

He walked you to your room, helping you change into pajamas, then tucked you into the bed. He stood there for a second, pushing your hair away from your face as you closed your eyes, letting his knuckles run over your cheek softly.

“I wish-” you mumbled, sleepy, “I wish you were happy for me.”

His eyes filled with tears, seeing just how awful he had been to you. A dream was coming true and all he could think of was himself.

“I am, Nena. I’m so happy for you,” He said, but you didn’t answer, already asleep, due to being tired from the race and heavily drunk.

You woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach churning hangover. Still, you showered, drank tea and got ready to go home. When Fernando knocked on the door of your hotel room later that day to apologize, you were already on a flight to Spain. Your birthday would be later that week and your family wanted to throw you a dinner party. 

Your birthday was nice, despite obviously feeling Fernando’s absence.

You were sitting alone on the porch, after the party, when he showed up, late in the night. You didn’t say anything as he walked up to you.

“Peace offering?” Fernando showed you a small ice cream pint “I’m so sorry. I never meant to undermine you. I was a jerk, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I’m so, so sorry.”

You hesitated for a second, but his eyes were so gentle, remorseful, that you couldn’t help but give in. You jumped into his arms so suddenly he almost dropped the ice cream, but he managed to balance it and hug you back with the other arm.

“Happy birthday, Nena,” he whispered, 

“Thank you,” you said, without letting him go, “I’m sorry too. I apologize for implying you felt threatened by me.”

“You should have called me worse things,” he whispered.

You ended up sharing the ice cream once again, talking about life.

Deep down, you hoped things would go back to normal, but a part of you knew that things would never be the same. You two were too much alike for anything to work. Too proud. Too stubborn. Too competitive. When you were good, it was great, but when you were mad, your words were daggers.

The both of you tried to stay normal the next couple of races, but it was strained, forced, especially when you were racing each other. You supposed Fernando was used to you backing down for him, since it was all you had done the year before when you were a rookie. But now you were used to the car, to explore all the possibilities while pushing your tyres to their maximum, while trying insane strategies and making it work. You were a risky driver, just like him, often seen as reckless.

All the while, the media started catching up to it. They went digging to find pictures of you and Fernando when you were kids, in karting and junior competitions, finding out people to interview, old classmates, people you two had met over the years, telling everyone about your close friendship, about you growing up together. Despite you both refusing to comment on your past, the journalists would always find a way to learn more and more about you.

Eventually, it got to your nerves, harsh words were often said whenever questions were thrown at you. You were in a press conference, where Fernando was also there along with a few other drivers.

“It is noticeable that you and Alonso’s driving style is very similar, would you say that he taught you everything you know?”

You didn’t like his tone, you hated whatever he was implying, not because of Fernando, but because it meant to reduce your efforts and abilities.

“No, Alonso has no part in my racing,” your tone was firm against the mic, and you could feel Fernando’s eyes on you, two chairs away on your left.

“But you grew up together?” The man insisted, and you loudly sighed, exhausted from everyone trying to make you talk about it all the time.

“And that doesn’t mean anything!” You said with gritted teeth.

There was a moment of silence right after your outburst, and you didn’t dare to look anywhere besides ahead. When the questions moved on to other drivers, you breathed again. Finally sparing a glance to Fernando, he only looked at you for a fleeting moment, but you knew him so well, you could recognize his teary eyes. Only then it dawned on you how badly you fucked up by insinuating he didn’t mean anything to you.

When the conference ended, you watched as Fernando left really quickly, not even looking in your direction. You ran, trying to find him, going to his room that was right beside yours.

“Fernando-” You walked inside, not even bothering to knock.

“So, our friendship means nothing!” He shook his head, looking disappointed.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Nano!”

“Now I’m Nano again?” He scoffed.

You wanted to cry and plead, to explain that you never meant it this way. You were just tired of people trying to attribute your success to others. You were tired of people comparing the two of you, and saying everything you were came from him, just because he joined the category five years before you. 

“Fernando, please-”

“Leave.” His eyes were cold, almost detached when he pointed to the door.

“Please, Nano…” You whispered, feeling your own eyes welling up with tears. He just shook his head ‘no’ again.

You walked out quietly, not allowing your tears to fall down as you got into your room, inhaling and puffing your chest. You didn’t let up, trying to talk to him again, because it was just a misunderstanding.

Three days later, you tried to find him again, after the race ended, hoping he would have calmed down after a good result, a P2 in that race. You knocked on his door and entered. He was changing clothes as you walked in, he finished dressing a shirt.

“What?” He said, barely looking at you, as he sat down on the sofa, brushing his hair.

“I wanted to talk about what I said during-” your words were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” Fernando said, and soon, two pretty girls walked in, wearing pretty dresses, one blonde and the other brunette, “pretty girls!”

You recognized they were grid girls, and they looked familiar from this weekend.

“Can we talk?” You said, trying to make him at least send the girls away for a moment.

“I’m listening,” he smirked, and you gulped as the blonde ran a hand up and down his chest. The brunette leaned into his ear with a seductive smile, whispering something.

“Fernando, please…” You asked again and he didn’t even look at you, laughing at something the girls whispered to him, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, before turning in your heels and leaving his room.

Shame and jealousy burned inside you.

He started giving you a silent treatment from then on and three races later, your silent strain came to a head, once again.

You were right behind him at the race, you P3 and him right ahead, but you had enough speed to outpace him soon, maybe a couple more laps and you’d equal him enough to try and overtake, you rode turn 2 smoothly, but as you two kept going, Fernando half a second in front of you, he suddenly hit the brakes, making you hit his rear.

“What the fuck? He brake tested me!” You shouted into the radio, reassessing, you gulped, noticing the damage to your front right tyre, “I’ve got damage!”

You called into the box to change your tyre, which fucked up your entire strategy, and made you go from the P3 to P9 in the grid. You managed to recover a little bit, but still ended P5 and out of the podium.

The rage was burning your chest as you went to the garage absolutely fuming. After all the podium proceedings and celebrations, you waited for Fernando, but he just walked past you without a care in the world. That made you even more pissed, and nobody managed to hold you when you tossed your helmet aside and marched up to him.

“That was really fucked up, Fernando!” You cut his path, making him stop short. Suddenly a bunch of people started gathering around you two, everyone ready for a show.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He shrugged, but you knew him like the palm of your own hand, and you knew that condescending smile he showed you.

“You are a fucking coward if you have to brake test me just to get a podium,” you said, venomous, feeling your dad trying to pull you away and dissipate the commotion. But you weren’t done, “you’re pathetic, Fernando.”

“That’s enough!” Your dad said, pulling you back.

“Or maybe you’re just not good enough, have you thought about that?” Fernando said back, and you jumped on him, trying to get close enough for violence, but your dad held your waist, removing your feet from the ground and pulling you back.

“Man up, Fernando! You fucking asshole!” You shouted as your dad dragged you back into the garage.

Your dad placed you inside your room, grabbing water so you could drink and calm down. When he turned back, a sob broke from your throat, and you covered your mouth with a hand, trying to muffle the sounds of your crying. You shook as you cried again, your dad hugging you close and murmuring to you to let it all out.

You never thought your friendship with Fernando would ever come to this. You weren’t even sure of how the buildup happened that led to this.

“I don’t recognize him anymore, Papá. I don’t recognize my best friend anymore,” you shook your head, your voice breaking in hiccups. You pressed the plant of your hand to your eyes to try and stop the tears falling down, but it was useless.

“It’s ok, bebé. You’re both hotheaded, you need to talk calmly, try and fix it.”

You didn’t try to talk to him. He was wrong when he brake tested you, and if he couldn’t apologize for that, and for the hurtful words he said, then it was better to stay that way.

It only got worse as the season went on, the team tried to force you to give him advantages, but you refused many times, making the competition for the World Drivers Championship be between the two of you.

“We need to talk,” Flavio called you a day after another one of your wins, one that Fernando placed third, one that he didn’t even look at your face when you were up there.

“What happened?” You sat down in front of him by the table.

“You have to follow team orders. When we say you have to switch places with Fernando, you switch. You are deliberately going against orders, what is going on? You and Fernando are now in a cold war, the media caught up, the other drivers caught up too, why-”

“Am I the only one getting lectured?” You crossed your arms, seeing Flavio getting red in the face, angry.

“No. I want answers from both of you, and the way you’re being aggressive with each other, we believe it’s better to talk to you separately,” Flavio sighed, “What is happening? Before it was interesting, a beautiful rivalry, but now you way past that. You’re harming your own races and the team.”

“You talk to Fernando. He thinks because I won’t back down he needs to use every dirty trick in the book to damage my race. If he can’t handle competition like an adult, then he shouldn’t be here.”

Suddenly, the door opened, which made you jump. Fernando walked inside, fuming.

“So that’s what you think of me?” He raised his voice.

“Yes, you have been acting like a fucking kid,” you stood up.

“Me? You told the whole world our friendship means nothing to you! Have you any idea how that made me feel?!” Fernando got closer.

“Do you know how many times people disdain my career to pin it to someone else? To attribute my successes to you, or to Flavio, or even my dad?! You’ve got no idea what it's like being a woman here!”

“Power got to your head! You think you have to walk all over everyone to get what you want!”

“Power?! Literally every man here does that! You do that too, Fernando!”

“Funny you say that since you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me!” He shouted, pointing a finger to the ground.

“Fernando, stop.” Flavio muttered, coming closer to where you were face to face with Fernando.

You frowned, your anger completely dissipated and what was left was dread. And a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“What?” You hated how your voice was nothing more than a vulnerable whisper.

“Fernando, enough!” Flavio commanded out loud, gesturing with a hand.

“What do you mean, Fernando?!” You asked again, ignoring Flavio trying to pacify the fight.

“I was the one to ask Flavio to sponsor you. I asked him to take a shot and invest in your career!” Fernando’s words were poison and in his eyes you couldn’t see anything left of your former best friend.

“Is it true, Flavio?” You asked but your eyes never left Fernando’s.

“Yes, but if we calm down, we can talk like adults.”

You couldn’t even come up with words, speechless not only from what Fernando told you, but from the tone he used. It was like he had punched you straight in the gut. You couldn’t contain your tears anymore, the lump in your throat threatening to suffocate you. You wanted to jump on him, to push him to the ground and punch his face. You wanted to scream in his face and call him all the dirty names you could think of. You tried to hold onto the anger but your limbs were still, and the pain expanded inside you like wildfire. He had lied to you, in the biggest step of your career he had lied to you. Even when you pressed for answers, he lied straight to your face.

You stared into his eyes one last time. It was the first time he had seen you really cry. He had seen you teary eyed or even emotional before, but it was the first time he had seen you truly cry.

“You’re dead to me, Fernando.”

Was all you managed to rasp, fat tears streaming down your cheeks. Flavio called your name as you walked away, but you never looked back and didn’t stop until you were inside your car, wailing like a baby. You sobbed all the way back to the hotel. You cried as you packed your bags, and tried but failed to contain your tears all the way back home, until you were at your parents’ door, sobbing on their sofa.

They didn’t ask anything until a couple of hours later when you managed to stop crying.

“I hate Fernando, so much, Mamá,” you whispered.

“Honey, don’t say that. Don’t do or say something you might regret later on,” She told you. You shook your head.

“I’m done with him. Done.” You bit back a sob, “he was so cruel, you had to see it.”

“He’s your best friend, dear. I’m sure it will be alright later on.”

“You should’ve seen the hate in his eyes, I don’t know him anymore. That’s not my Nano.”

So, your racing career was a lie. You didn’t make it because of your talent or your efforts. You were in Formula 1 because of Fernando. That was the cruelest thing someone ever said to you, not only because he was mean in the way he said it, but because with a few words he diminished your entire career. And what could you come up with to contest? He was right. You would never be there without him.

You wanted to give up so badly at that moment. You wanted to stay home and never come back, but you knew you couldn’t, your sense of duty was loud and you had to make it work. You had to prove that you deserved your spot in Formula 1, that all of Flavio’s forced investment on you was worth it.

You had to prove to Fernando you were more than a friend he pitied, more than a charity case he took so he could throw it at your face later.

It was one of the hardest things to realize and accept, the fact that he wasn’t your friend anymore. Maybe he never was. Despite all the disagreements the past couple of years, and all the beautiful history you had before the pinnacle of motorsport, maybe he never saw you as a friend. You thought you’d never treat a friend the way he treated you.

So you had to prove Fernando wrong.

NOTE: If you want to be tagged on part 2, please let me know in the comments!

[prettiestlovergirl]

SO IT GOES...

tw: MDNI; fem!reader; teasing; tipsy fooling around; under the table; fingering; reader has acrylics on!

concept: mom's friend's son!luke who only comes around when your parents are hanging out or for big events. song: so it goes... by taylor swift

a/n: you voted for this so... here you go! this is inspired by this post by @too-deviant ! i saw the concept and was immediately hit with inspiration. it's a bit short, but don't worry, there is a part two coming soon! i will link here when it's up. enjoy, my lovelies! 𓆩♡𓆪

was getting wasted a bit tipsy at your mom's friend of a friend's wedding reception a good idea? no. no, it was not.

but you couldn't help it! it was so. boring.

the ceremony was a drag, the small talk was unbearable, and you were going to be stuck here for lord knows how long while your moms talked the night away.

when some of your older cousins came around and offered, you just had to get a few shots! just to provide a warm buzz.

and a couple of cocktails couldn't hurt, just to keep you steady!

oh, and wait, no one wanted that bottle of champagne, right?

so here you two were, a pile of giggles and smirks as you passed the bottle between yourselves in your not-so-secret corner of the world. you both rambled on, reminiscing on old memories of your time spent together.

sharing glances and tipsy smiles when one of your mothers came by and commented about how cute you looked, how it seemed as if no time had passed.

eventually, the teasing started the same way it always did: his hand rubbing its way up and down your thigh.

it was especially easy for him to access your bare skin, the criminally short dress you wore barely covering the smooth flesh. you wore it with him in mind, of course.

last winter, you'd attended a holiday party in jeans, and you'd have thought you were in a chastity belt the way he pouted. he spent most of the evening complaining about missing the way your pretty thighs looked without the fabric, so you decided to be extra nice this time around.

unfortunately, you were starting to think that maybe you had been a little too nice when you felt his hand start moving up, up, up.

"luke, stop it! wait til we're alone!" you giggled quietly, swatting at his hand but doing absolutely nothing to deter him from his goal of getting his hand on your panties.

"oh, c'mon, baby. everybody's too drunk to even care." luke hummed in your ear, his warm breath on your ear making you shiver despite the heat. "besides, haven't felt you in so long, can't blame me f'being a little impatient."

you let out a soft moan when his hand finally found your panties, his palm applying some soft pressure before stopping, making you whine. "is that a yes?" he asked, his voice husky in your ear. you didn't even have to look at him to know he was smirking.

you bit your lip gently, glancing around the room to make sure you really were in the clear before nodding. "mhm."

he slowly rubbed circles onto your clothed pussy, relishing in the way you'd already soaked through them. "god, you're so wet..." he murmured, teasing you over your panties while you let out the occasional gasp or whimper.

"luuuke, stop t- oh." your complaint was cut off by your own quiet moan when he finally pushed your panties to the side and moved his middle finger up and down your slit. he spread your wetness around before finally easing it inside of you.

"oh, fuck." you moaned, bringing your hand up to your lips to try and discreetly muffle yourself. no one was paying you two any attention, but that didn't mean you wanted to tempt fate any more than you were!

luke draped his free arm over the back of your seat, forcing you in place and looking just oh-so-casual while his thumb found your puffy clit. he slipped in another finger, speeding up his thrusts while you struggled to stay quiet.

only you two could hear the squelching of your pussy while luke fingered you, the sounds of music and godawful karaoke blocking it out from the rest of the world.

"so. fucking. wet." luke groaned in your ear, punctuating each word with another toe curling thrust as you felt the familiar, delicious knot in your stomach start to grow. "fuck, fuck, m'so close!" you practically whined, trying to squirm against his firm grip, only to be met with his fingers curled up and made you hiss.

"you gonna cum f'me, baby? gonna be a good girl and cum on my fingers?" he cooed, to which you could only nod rapidly and dig your nails into his arm, afraid that if you opened your mouth, you would moan too loud and bring attention to yourself.

after a few more rough thrusts, you turned and quickly buried your face into his shoulder, unable to hold in your moans as you squeezed your eyes shut and came undone.

he continued to rub your clit as you came, enjoying the sting of your nails digging into his arm and the fabric of your panties scraping his knuckles while you rode out your high.

eventually, however, he stopped and pulled his hand out from between your thighs, allowing you to catch your breath. he lifted his hand up, fingers and thumb glistening with your juices all over them.

"fuck, that's hot." he stated, looking at you as he popped his thumb into his mouth to clean it off. you blushed and smacked his chest, attempting to bring his hand down. "luke, stop it!" you hissed, your blush only seeming to egg him on more.

"ah, ah, ah. i earned this, doll." luke tutted, a wicked smirk on his face as he licked all your juices off his hand, groaning at your delicious taste until your mother came by to check in on you, asking if you felt okay, telling you that you looked a bit flushed.

"don't worry, i'm here to take great care of our girl for the night." he told your mother, his best, charming smile on his lips. "in fact, i'm gonna go grab us some waters." he stated, casually adjusting his hard on under the table before getting up and walking away.

your mom continued to talk, going on about how cute it was that you two were still the best of friends, but you weren't paying attention.

no, all your attention was on your phone as you waited for the usual text message to arrive in three... two... buzz, buzz.

you picked your phone up off the table and smiled to yourself as you read the messages.

"meet me in the stairwell" "don't make me start without you."

maybe getting dragged to these random events with your mom wasn't all that bad after all...

ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ

[jaylver]

ALL OF THE GIRLS YOU LOVED BEFORE — P.JS

SYNOPSIS: growing up, you've always known this one boy who was your father's best friend's son. as you grew older, you watched the girls come and go, at the same time, you somehow got closer to him as well. feelings sparked and you progressively found yourself liking him. what were you going to do? kiss him.

PAIRINGS: childhood friend!jay x afab!reader

GENRE: childhood friend to lovers, romance, a pinch of angst

WARNING(S): profanities, two of them being a bit dumb

WC: 3049

AUTHOR NOTES: i'm in a jay brainrot and after hearing miss swift's newest song, i knew i needed to write something. it isn't the best i admit, i rushed it HEKSJ but i hope you'll like it! PLEASE GIVE SOME FEEDBACKS THANKIES 🫶

masterlist | © jaylver 2023 all rights reserved

Ever since you were a kid, you knew this boy from your father's best friend. Park Jong Seong, also known as Jay. He was the son of your father's life long best friend, but unlike them, you and Jay didn't happen to be as close.

You were six when you first met him. It was his birthday and your dad had dragged you over to his house against your will, typical. You didn't have any high expectations for him as a kid, just wishing he had some legos for you to play.

Up till the moment you were facing him, your fathers introducing you to each other, you only realised how cute he was. Yes, little six year old you might've had a love at first sight moment. You can't blame yourself, his chubby cheeks and shy demeanour made you more curious.

You handed him his present silently, watching as he accepted it and in the next moment, his face broke into a small smile, grabbing your wrist and bringing you into his playroom.

Unfortunately, you and Jay barely met up after that, both of you having busy lives and your parents having no time to bring you to playdates either. You didn't think much of it as a kid, thinking of him as the funny boy who had tons of legos and that was it.

You figured you'll never see him again despite him being your father's best friend's son, but you were wrong. In the next few years, you would always go over his house for birthdays and the new years, it basically became a tradition. 

Of course, only seeing one another once or twice a year, each year would be a different version of him, and you began noticing the big change he went through when you were sixteen. 

Jay was much taller, voice deeper, his hair parted in a different way, his style evolved and the way his face had changed too … lord, he evolved like a pokemon.  

You being a sixteen year old teen wasn't helping either. It was the prime year for a girl like you to be having crushes, chasing after guys, basically overwhelming hormones that had you thinking Jay was cute. Cute cute. 

On that specific new year, you remembered having to do a double take when you entered the Parks' house, not realising he was, in fact, Jay. You hid the shyness and did what you always do whenever you're around for New Years Eve. 

But that night, both of your parents were out for a party, in their words 'a party for adults', dumping their kids alone at home instead. It was awkward to say the least, having to sit on the far end of the couch with a movie playing in the background, Jay seeming half entertained by it.

"Hey," he scooted over and you turned over to see him inching close and closer until his shoulder was against yours.

"Yeah?" He can't be trying to hook up, right? You can't help but think, nervousness creeping up your throat.

"I heard there's a New Years party in town, let's sneak out?"

"Really?" 

"Do you trust me?"

"I–I guess?"

"It's a 'yes' or 'no', Y/N,"

Panic and adrenaline rushed over you, fearing your parents would beat your ass knowing you're sneaking out, but it was Jay. You couldn't really say no. "Yes, fine,"

Jay replied only with a happy grin, snatching your wrist and switching the tv off, dashing out into the garage. "Don't worry, I've driven before,"

"If you crash, I'll kill you," you hissed but Jay ignored your threat, blissfully driving to the town.

Along the way, it felt like a scene from a coming of age movie. The radio was turned to the fullest volume, the two of you screaming your lungs out to the lyrics and having the windows opened, wind blowing against your faces. 

The ride was quite short but memorable, your hand was in Jay's the whole time as he led you through the fun fair, the whole town alighted with bright lights and loud music. 

The clock was ticking and Jay had finally dragged you to a specific spot. The place was empty and quiet, but the sky was clear and there weren't any buildings to cover your sight.

"This spot is the best for fireworks," Jay mentioned, sitting on the ground, which you followed suit.

"Really?"

"Yeah, my friend's brought me here once,"

"That's … cool," you said uneasily, an awkward tension unknowingly settled between the two of you.

"How's life for you?" Jay glanced at you, a hint of genuine curiosity in his eyes.

"It's fine. Typical highschool stuff. A guy did confess to me once, but I didn't feel the same," you found yourself babbling secret information, unsure why you were suddenly so comfortable with Jay. Maybe it was his presence, or maybe it was just him in general.

"You're amazing obviously, I'm not surprised he confessed. Just a shame it wasn't mutual," Jay said and your ears perked up.

Jay thought you were amazing. 

"Right," you choked out, slightly flustered. "What about you?"

"It's chill, not much going on," Jay was fidgeting with his fingers, chewing on his lips. "I'm in a band with my friends though,"

"Oh! That's really cool,"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you repeated. "I'm sure you're super good. What position are you?"

"I play the guitar,"

"You should teach me someday,"

"You should come by more often," he confessed, gulping a little after realising what he had said. "It's been a long while since we've met,"

"You're right, come pick me up then,"

"Only on nights my parents are out," he laughed, pausing for a second. "Come to my show one day,"

He wasn't asking, he was making it clear he wanted you there. 

"Of course, I'd love to."

The night faded off into colourful fireworks, small jokes that would soon be inside jokes in the future, and tired laughs rang into the quietness.

This was the only time you were sixteen and doing something wild, considering you would never ever have the balls to sneak out, but you were glad you did it that night, and all of it together with Jay. 

Your lives went on and though you and Jay barely kept in contact, his request rang in your head from time to time. You felt like you've known him all your life, yet you knew completely nothing about him at the same time.

Around April the same year, you went over to his house to celebrate your birthday together with him since you two shared close birthdays and it pretty much became a tradition by now. 

Upon arriving, you awkwardly stepped into the house, your parents too busy talking with Jay's parents out in the garden. Everything was familiar to you, but also unfamiliar as you've never travelled further in, feeling slightly tense while you sat yourself on the couch.

"Y/N?" 

You turned your head around, meeting Jay's eyes, his body leaning against the wall. He smiled at once, approaching you and taking a seat next to you, he was a little too close.

"Jay, hi," you breathed out, blinking slowly. 

"How have you been? We haven't seen each other much lately, but you do seem like you're having fun in your stories," for a moment you've forgotten you and Jay were following each other on Instagram, having the access to view your day to day life.

"Oh, it's nothing, just a girl's trip," he was referring to the day you went out of town with your friends, quite surprised he somehow took note of it.

"Sounds fun," he mused, nodding a little. "By the way, my girlfriend's coming, I hope you don't mind,"

You totally just experienced whiplash, completely bewildered that he had a … girlfriend?! You weren't surprised since he's cool, tall, handsome and super smart, but you hadn't expected it this early.

"I'm chill with it," you laughed it off, trying to seem nonchalant. "I didn't know you had a girlfriend,"

"Oh, yeah, we met at a gig of mine," he gave you a half grin. "Which you should totally come and get blown away by my skills,"

"As if," you giggled. "Send me the place, I'll pop by soon,"

"You promise?"

"I do."

Your sixteenth birthday definitely did hurt more compared to your past ones and it had a simple reason behind it. Well, it was because of Jay. The same Jay you couldn't help crushing over despite having the slightest contact with, but you didn't care, you knew him all your life, and he's the Jay you've always recognized, the same sweet and caring one.

Seeing his girlfriend's birthday card that was written for him on the table had you swallowing your cake sadly. Hearts were drawn around his name in her handwriting. Totally cool.

You kept your promise to Jay and stopped by one of his gigs without letting him know, which surprised him. On the other hand, you were the one who's more surprised. He did live up to his expectations, charming you and the crowd with his guitar skills and honey vocals. Gosh, whatever you were feeling for him, forget it, it's not dissipating.

To repay your kindness, Jay promised to turn up to one of your football games and you just laughed it off, waving your hands, but you knew for a fact that once he had said it, he was really going to do it.

And so he did. He was a man of his words. Luck was on your side too, winning the game victoriously and seeing Jay running up to you once the game was over, the biggest grin plastered on his face. He was practically telling you how good you were that day, bringing you for ice cream after.

Ever since then, your relationship with him grew unexpectedly. You were 17 together, then 18, watching the girls in Jay's life come and go, but the moment you had a boyfriend yourself, he wasn't the most keen on it.

You told yourself he was probably just protective, going through a phase where you thought he just "wouldn't get it". Oh how terribly wrong you were. He did get it, and your first boyfriend ended up breaking your heart.

You cried over a boy whose name you couldn't remember now, hiding in the bathroom until Jay had to drive to your house and slammed your door repeatedly for you to get out.

You said nothing, just falling into his chest with a thud and crying your eyes out. You knew he had a secret 'I told you so' in him, but he didn't say anything, keeping you in his arms until the sun had set.

21, college and being legal enough for alcohol, you and Jay explored frat parties, both being single and available, it was a hidden opportunity. Shots were downed into your throats and thankfully, you shared good alcohol tolerance levels with Jay, meaning it would be a long night ahead.

Someone had brought up hide and seek as the night's party game, and you initially thought it was stupid, but once you heard the winner getting a deal of a 100 dollars, you were in, partnering with Jay naturally.

On the count of ten, you dashed around the frat house with Jay's hand in yours, him following behind like a lost puppy. You entered someone's bedroom, finding a lucky hiding spot in a closet, pulling Jay in.

You closed the closet door shut, not realising how tight the space actually was, your chest pressed against Jay's, heat radiating off of each other's body. You've officially dug yourself a grave.

"Hi," Jay whispered, his gaze soft paired with a childish grin on his face.

"Hi," you smiled back at him, your eyes wandering all over his face, scrutinising his features.

"It's a little hot in here," Jay fanned himself a little awkwardly from the limited space. 

"Definitely," you looked away for a second before staring back at him. "You have a really nice mole here," your finger grazed against his face, but he didn't flinch, accepting your touch.

"Do I?"

"Yeah," you murmured, your fingers moving to the side of his face, gently brushing loose strands of hair away from his face. He was so painfully pretty, you quietly thought in your head.

"You're really pretty, Y/N," he said out of the blue, causing you to freeze, catching you completely off guard. "I don't think I've said it once, but I've always thought you were pretty, beautiful even,"

Uh oh, you're falling in love.

"I don't know what to say," you said truthfully, gulping nervously. "I'm flattered, really, I—uh—thank you," you laughed, your cheeks getting unbearably red.

"You're flustered," he leaned in close to you, his eyes not leaving yours. He was inches away from you, his cologne infiltrating your senses, the scent a little too familiar.

Oh no, you're falling in love again.

"Shut up," you punched his shoulder. "You're such a tease,"

"You love that about me," 

"Sure," you rolled your eyes, ignoring his piercing gaze.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Will you regret it?" Uncertainty laced in your tone, scared, anxious, that you'd ruined something between the two of you.

"No," he answered with a certain sureness in his voice, his eyes truthful and honest. "Will you?"

"If I do, I wouldn't be doing this—" you pulled him in close by the back of his neck, pressing your lips onto his, your brain turning into mush. 

His lips reciprocated back, kissing you deeply and having to place his hand on the side of your neck for some stability. The kiss was more than just a simple one, not the kind that would be forgotten easily, there was something more to it.

It felt like aeons before you finally broke apart, panting heavily against each other's lips, your hands still on his shoulder; his hand now on your waist. 

Oh, you're falling in love.

There were many things you've regretted in life, but this? You would do it over and over again if you had the choice to, and maybe you do.

"I—"

"Is there anyone here?" A voice came from the outside and the two of you froze, hoping it wasn't the seeker. "The game's over," the person yelled out before you heard the door shutting.

"We survived it," you muttered cheekily, trying to ignore Jay's gaze.

"Yeah—uh—" he brushed his hand against his pants, the tension in the air thick enough to be sliced by a knife. "Should I drive you home?"

"Please do."

Ever since that night at the frat party, you've been on and off with Jay. You were caught up with work and Jay was busy, but the part where he said he was having a date did set you off completely.

None of you talked about the kiss. You didn't like the fact that you didn't, waiting for him to speak up about it first, but you hated the waiting game, yet you still couldn't make the first move. Jay seemed like he was about to talk about it every time he hung out with you, but he never did.

Days turned into a week, having only seen Jay once or twice, you figured you were avoiding each other. You hated the feeling, you were dreading it, dreading the fact that one day something like this would happen, and it did.

The silent treatment ended the moment when you were forcefully pulled into his dorm room when you passed by one day. Letting out a yelp in fear until you realised it was Jay. 

"Jay?"

"Hi," he gave you an apologetic smile, holding onto your hand softly. "I—uhm—figured we have to talk … about that night,"

"Oh,"

"Are you avoiding me?" He cut to the chase, shocking you a little.

"No, I thought you were,"

"I wasn't," his eyebrows were furrowed, a quizzical look on his face. Were you two just in denial?

"Look, you asked me if I will regret the kiss and up until now, no, I didn't," sincerity shone in his eyes, his chest heaving. "But did you?"

"Of course not," you breathed out truthfully, noticing a sign of relief in his features.

"Good, because I like you, Y/N," Jay confessed, his gaze dropping to the ground to avoid your wide eyes, hands squeezing yours gently. "All of the girls that I've had in my life, they couldn't compete, you were the only one who mattered most to me. I never realised that, I admit, until I found myself trying to find a little bit of you in the girls I've dated, but none of them could ever compare to you."

You were stunned speechless, your heart twisting and pounding hard against your chest.

"I didn't want to repeat the mistake of doing all the avoiding, it's dumb, so I just want to talk to you here, one on one," he continued. "I'm sorry it took me years to realise. I was in denial that I liked you, I was scared you didn't, and the date I went to, I just couldn't stop thinking about us,"

You resisted the urge to smile, watching as Jay rambled in panic. "I like you too, Jay, ever since we were kids," you shook his hand, trying your best to put on the most reassuring smile. "To be fair, I'm in the wrong too, I didn't really have the balls to say anything either, but I'm just glad we're here now,"

Jay processed your words, features twisting from shock to relief, clear euphoria in his gaze. "Can I be your boyfriend?" 

"I thought you'd never ask,"

You pulled him in by his collar, pressing your lips onto his and you let your hand wander into his hair, feeling him smile against your lips at the gesture. You grinned into the kiss, eliciting a small laugh from Jay in between. You wished to stay like this forever with him.

The stars were aligned, your past and his were intertwined to bring the both of you together. All of the girls he's loved before, forget about them, they made Jay the man you've fallen for in the end, and you're thankful for that, loving him a lot. More than anything and everything.

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

[moonlight-tmd]

Whenever I listen to Hooked On A Feeling by Björn Skifs I imagine a scenario of Blitzwing just being totally smitten by the little yellow autobot he just met and he's trying his best to court him.

He doesn't even hide it, he will just straight up ditch the entire fight to go talk and compliment the yellow mini and either the Autobots or Lugnut has to chase/drag him away.

The worst part is Bee is totally into it. He doesn't see why the heck this would be a bad idea, the big goofy weirdo(affectionate) just wants his attention and love. Said goofy weirdo is also not that bad-looking and strong. All of his oddities are just more of a lure to capture Bee's curiosity and interest.

Blitz would go and draw attention of citizen so the Autobots come and he'd sing and dance on a makeshift disco ring to flirt with Bee. When that fails he'd carve a giant ice statue of Bumblebee and present it to him and Bee will be so amazed. And when that fails due to the other Autobots dragging Bee away (as always) he'd show up to the emergency at the bridge Bee is at with Ratchet, stand nearby and hold up a sign saying "Please go on a date with me! <3" while blasting some love song he heard that the lyrics literally describe his feelings. Bee did jump off the bridge to get to him that time... unfortunately Ratchet had caught him and lifted him back up with the magnets before Blitzwing could catch him and run off.

Bee's teammates have to keep an eye on him at all times so he won't sneak out and go do something he'll regret. Bee is not happy that his friends don't want him to go and try be happy with another mech, he's very pouty whenever they tell him no he can't do that. So what if it's a 'con? He's never truly taken a side and only wears an insignia for the sake of having some leeway with other Autobots. All of them could be organics, monoformers, 'bots, 'cons or other-faction for all he cares. He just wants to have friends, doesn't matter what or who they are.

I imagine at one point in time on earth Bee took off the window in his room and has it on a latch or something so it opens like a hatch so he can sneak out via his room. He has a big trash container with a lid on the other side and few crates so he can climb down from the window. One time he manages to fool whoever is on the nightly watch over him so he won't sneak out (aka they check if he's still in his berth, this time he waited until the check pretending to recharge and then snuck out). He got out and drove to places he usually saw Blitz hanging out on patrols. He wasn't in any of those places but Bee waited some in one of them and sure enough Blitz did happen to come to that location that night. They were so happy to finally talk with each other properly without anyone hearing anything and interrupting every 3 minutes.

They hit it off near instantly. Bee is so curious and amazed by a unique mech like Blitzwing and Blitz is so enamored with Bee's personality and cute appearance. They dance, sing and laugh under the stars and it's like a love story come real. Of course, they meet few times in secret after that. Bee thinks about how to make others allow him to meet with Blitz... but just as he does that they hear a knock at the shutter and wouldn't you know, Blitzwing is standing there with big boquet of flowers and some small packages. Somehow he learned the location of where Bee lives by himself. Of course Bee grabbed his servo and led him in to play games together despite the others being very much startled by what the heck a 'con is doing in their house on a tuesday morning.

By that point they just give up all efforts to try to keep those two apart. It's pointless... At least Blitz doesn't seem as bad as they thought he was- he did bring them gifts to come into their favor after all.

So Blitz is a regular guest at the Autobot base. Bee is happy, Blitz is happy, and the others still keep an eye on them just in case. But they definitelly stopped being so paranoid over Bee.

[daisynik7]

Iris

And I don't want the world to see me, ‘cause I don't think that they'd understand. When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader

Rating: Mature – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~4.5k (I went way over than I was supposed to, lol)

cw: switching POVs (2nd person reader, 3rd person Eren), canon-universe, VERY canon-divergent, consider this a what-if scenario, major AOT spoilers up to season 4, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), fingering 

Summary: At the Battle of Fort Slava, Eren Jaeger, hell-bent on launching his ultimate attack on Marley, injures himself to pose as a wounded soldier, granting him admittance to the hospital to finalize his plans. You, an Eldian volunteer working at the hospital, start treating this new patient, nervous about his mysterious demeanor. Eventually, you learn that you have much more in common with each other than you think. 

Author’s Note: Thank you @ichinosejager13 for your second request for the y2k karaoke party! I did something totally different this time; I wrote a fic set in the canon universe. I thought it fit well with this song, so I hope you like it! While it’s set in the canon universe, it is very obviously canon divergent, so please remember I took a lot of liberties with this. I am in no way suggesting that any of this is what I wish happened in canon. I just think it was an interesting idea to write. Also, I understand that this will seem very out-of-character for Eren, but let’s just roll with it because it's all in good fun, lol. 

Like, reblogs, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated! Thank you for reading! MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune.

Fort Slava, huddled in the trenches. Blade through his leg, bullet in his eye. This is the last vivid memory Eren can recall as he stands in line outside the hospital, waiting to be admitted. Some asshole Marleyan imitates explosion sounds, causing all of those around him to fall to the ground, cowering in fear. They suffer trauma from the battlefield, and even Eren, with a clear conscious now, is affected by it. A kid, another Eldian dawning the same yellow armband as he is, steps towards them, kneeling down to help them up. He even assists Eren, correcting his armband to his left arm instead of the right. Luckily, it goes unnoticed by everyone else, which is exactly what he wants. 

It's all part of his plan; the attack on Marley. It’s been in the works for months now, starting with his infiltration of the army, fighting alongside Marleyans and Eldians alike. He thought he’d have better clarity of the situation, maybe get convinced to call the whole thing off after bonding with other solders through the tragedies of violence and war. Unfortunately, it’s only made him realize how much more he needs to follow through with it. Nothing will ever change in this cruel world unless he’s the one to do it. 

There are days when he gets cold feet. He’s tempted to re-evaluate, find a way back to his home of Paradis, reunite with his friends, devise a better plan and figure it out together. But in all the futures Eren can see, his current plan is the only one that will work. The only one that will grant him the freedom he’s been chasing his entire life.  

The process is slow to get a room in the hospital. Luck remains on Eren’s side when he’s assigned a private room. It’s barren; a single-bed, just long enough to accommodate his stature, withered sheets and rusted iron on the frame. There’s a small nightstand beside it with two drawers to hide his belongings, which is essentially nothing, and atop is a small lamp, illuminating the room in a dreary glow. It’s not luxurious, but it’s enough for the time-being. Because that’s all Eren needs right now: time. 

Eventually, Zeke will find him. They’ve been contacting each other for a while now, and Eren has a firm grasp on what his older brother is trying to convince him to do with the Founder’s power. While he doesn’t agree with his idea to euthanize the entire race of Eldians, Eren needs to entertain it long enough to manipulate Zeke into letting him use his royal blood. 

It's all convoluted and fucked up, he’s aware of that. Somedays, he wishes he could escape this curse without doing anything at all. That one day, he’d be gone from this world, liberated from his Titan power, saved from this burdened life. This isn’t what he imagined while reading all those books he and Armin would marvel at as kids. This isn’t the freedom he was hoping for. 

He rests in his pathetic, yet oddly comforting bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. His leg and eye are still wrapped in bandages, so a nurse should be coming soon to check on him. There’s a faint commotion out in the hallway, but Eren is too lazy and too uninterested to investigate. Soon, it subsides, and the door swings open, revealing a women around his age, wearing a nurses uniform and the yellow Eldian patch on her left arm. He recognizes the attire from battle; the army had a few nurses stationed at the fort for casualties. 

“Mr. Kruger?” she asks. 

It takes him a second to remember the alias he decided to use. He confirms it, nodding his head silently. 

She gives him a warm smile, introducing herself. “I’ll be helping you from now on.”

~~~

You started working at the hospital a few months ago. For Eldians, it’s nearly impossible to be accepted into higher education, so nursing school was never an option. With opportunities so scarce, your best bet was to apply for a volunteer position at the hospital in hopes of using that as a steppingstone for an actual paying job. You don’t expect a promotion any time soon, not even in the near future, but at least you’re spending your time helping others.

While it’s rewarding, it isn’t glamorous or pretty in the slightest bit. Because you lack the proper education, your tasks mostly include bathing, feeding, cleaning up any accidents or messes. Occasionally, if your patient is open to it, you spend time with them chatting, doing activities with them, listening to their stories. This is rare, though. Most that are admitted are Marleyans who refuse to speak to you because of your status. Some are even reluctant to have you help them in the first place. The Eldians, sadly, are usually too traumatized to open up, so you do your best to make them comfortable however you can. 

When you meet your newest patient, Eren Kruger, you don’t expect him to be any different from the rest. You are, however, surprised at how young he is; he can’t be any older than you, judging by his appearance. His records show nothing except for his name and his status as an Eldian, which isn’t unusual, so you don’t think much of it. “Mr. Kruger, I know you must be hungry,” you start. “Lunch will be arriving soon. If you need assistance, I’ll be here to help you.”

He acknowledges you with another curt nod, remaining silent. You can’t help but notice how brilliantly green his eyes are. Have you ever seen irises like his before? You let the inappropriate thought vanish quickly before you ask, “Would you like me to bathe you now or after you eat?”

At this, his brows tighten. “Bathe?” 

“Yes, Mr. Kruger. We can bathe you before or after lunch, it’s up to you – ”

“I don’t want to bathe,” he says, avoiding your gaze. 

You blink at him, unsure how to respond. “Surely you must want to be clean – ”

He interrupts you again, muttering, “How can I, when I’m like this?”

You understand his hesitation now, not needing further explanation. Sometimes, patients with missing limbs have expressed concern submerging themselves in a tub full of water, not wanting to get their bandages wet. Quickly, you clarify, “It would be a sponge bath. We can do that while you’re lying in bed, actually. And your bandages will stay intact.”

This seems to be the answer he’s looking for. His expression relaxes when he says, “After. I want to do it after I eat.”

You smile softly at him, noting it on your checkboard. “Understand. I’ll go check on your meal now. Is there anything else you need from me?”

A beat passes before he replies, “Pen and paper. For letters.”

You write it, reminding yourself to bring it when you return with his meal. “Got it.”

A few minutes later, you return with a tray of food along with a wad of paper and two pens. You set it on his nightstand beside him, waiting for him to move it. When he doesn’t, staying still, staring blankly at the foot of the bed, you clear your throat. “Mr. Kruger?”

“I’m not hungry,” he murmurs. 

“But you haven’t eaten all day. You need nourishment if you’re going to get any better.”

“And who says I want to get better?” He glares at you, startled by the intensity in his gaze. 

You swallow hard, nervous, but still resilient. “You have to eat. You owe it to yourself after what you’ve been through.”

“And how would you know what I’ve been through?” His voice is steady, a hint of venom, barely enough to sting. But you’re determined. You sit at the edge of the bed, careful not to touch him. Reaching for the tray, you set it down on your lap, sighing. “I don’t know. I have no idea what war is like out there. All I know is that it’s not great for us here. At least out there, you’re fighting together as a unit. Marleyan, Eldian, it doesn’t matter. You’re working to defeat our enemy. And who knows? If we ever win the war, maybe life will be better for us here.” You shove the tray towards him, glaring back at him. “So the least you could do is try to see it through and survive, right?”

He studies you carefully, contemplating how to respond. Glancing at the tray in front of him, he smirks, scooping a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. You ease up, tension releasing from your shoulders. 

After a few more bites, he speaks. “Who do you think the enemy is?” 

Just when you thought you were in the clear, he asks you another question. “It was the Mid-East Allies. That’s who you fought at Fort Slava.” 

“But who do you think the real enemy is?” He’s finished with his potatoes, now moving on to his meatloaf. 

“Well, I suppose it’s whoever the government says it is.” You’re unsure what kind of answer he’s searching for.

“And if they say that we’re the enemy, then what?” He points between you, leaving you confused. 

“We…?”

“Eldians. Devils.”

“No, no. The Devils are on the island. We’re…we’re not like them.”

“Are you sure?” He stuffs the rest of the meat into his mouth, chewing and swallowing it all down. “What makes you think you’re any better here than you are there?”

Your face feels hot now, and you start to stammer. “Because…because that’s what we were told. We’re on the right side. They’re on the wrong.” 

His plate is nearly clean now. He slides his fingers on the remnants, licking it off before chugging half a glass of water. “What if I told you there’s a place for people like us? A place where you wouldn’t have to walk around with an armband. A place where you were treated fairly. Would you want to go to a place like that?” 

You feel yourself drawn in by his words. The idea of it sounds impossible. Ever since you were born, you were taught to know your place in this world. That place was here in Marley, destined to be a second-class citizen. You were told that the island across the sea was full of devils like you, but because you’re here, you’re better. You can’t deny that you’ve been curious what life is like out there. All this time, you thought it must be worst, secluded on an island, hated by the rest of the world. 

But is this life any better? Secluded in your own community and still hated by the rest of the world?

You pick the tray up from his lap, muttering, “I’ll go get your sponge bath ready.”

He doesn’t add anything else, watching you silently. You walk towards the door, ready to leave. Before you do, you say, “And to answer your question: I would.”

~~~

It was supposed to be innocent banter, that’s what Eren intended. He figured he could chalk it up to the trauma speaking for him, that she wouldn’t even be remotely interested in what he had to say. He thought she’d be like all the other naïve, brainwashed Eldians, ignorantly believing everything that was told to them. He realizes soon enough that he was wrong to underestimate her.

She comes to him every day, fulfilling her volunteer duties. Their daily routine begins with breakfast, then a morning stroll in his wheelchair out in the courtyard. Sometimes they’ll play chess at one of the tables, sometimes it’s checkers. Lunchtime comes, and then it’s time for a bath, one of Eren’s favorite parts of the day. Her hands are always gentle, gliding along his skin with a damp sponge. They’ll do another stroll outside, this time on his crutches, where he practices how to walk. Dinner arrives when it’s already dark out, and occasionally, he’ll ask her to read the latest news from the paper. 

While all this happens, they talk. They talk a lot. 

As expected, she figures out that Eren is from Paradis, though he bends the truth about his true intentions for being here. She doesn’t know about his Titan powers, thinking he’s a refugee seeking sanctuary here. Surprisingly, she isn’t offended about it; in fact, she’s curious. They spend most of their time together sharing stories of their childhood. Eren describes life in Paradis, she describes life in Marley. While there are stark differences between their upbringings, there are also blatant similarities. And together, they come to the gut-wrenching conclusion: Eldians are terrorized wherever they are, whether it’s here, or across the sea. 

Eren has only sent one letter in the past two weeks, and that was to his friends back home, informing them that he is in Marley, safe and sound. He doesn’t disclose his plan to them yet. In all honestly, he’s not sure what the plan is anymore. Zeke still hasn’t found him, nor has Eren gone out of his way to be found. What Eren does know is that he enjoys spending time with the woman who helps him. So much that he’s losing grip on what he’s supposed to be doing here. He has to do something soon.

It comes to a head one night, three weeks after he was admitted to the hospital. Eren requests for another sponge bath after dinner; it was a hot day and he worked up a sweat during their afternoon walk. She helps him strip his shirt off, starting with the wet, warm sponge at his chest, massaging small circles onto his sticky skin. He watches her carefully, noticing her eyes lingering on his body more so than usual. 

He speaks softly into her ear, leaning in close. “I have something to tell you.”

She continues above his waist, hands gently scrubbing, not bothering to look at him when she responds. “What is it, Eren?”

He’s thought about this all day. The plan. “Would you like to visit Paradis?”

This time, she does look at him, confused. “What?”

Louder now, and more confident, he says, “Come to Paradis with me. See what it’s like there.”

She scoffs. “I can’t just leave.”

“Why not?”

“Because this is my home.”

“They treat you like nothing here,” he argues. “At Paradis, you’re somebody. We can be safe at Paradis.”

She stops, tossing the sponge into the bucket of water beside her, frustrated. “Safe? After everything you’ve told me? You said it yourself; you’ve been terrorized by Titans since you were a kid. Every nation in the world wants Paradis gone. How can it be safe?”

He swallows thickly, gripping her hand delicately in his. “I can’t explain everything right now, but I have a plan. We have a plan.” He recalls one of the last memories he has of Armin, his brilliant friend, suggesting a small-scale Rumbling, enough to scare the rest of the world from attacking Paradis for centuries. He dismissed it quickly then, but now, he considers it. Could this be their best option? Instead of the billions of casualties Eren had originally devised? “You just have to trust me for now. Once we’re there, I can explain everything.”

She stares at him, clearly in shock from his suggestion. He doesn’t blame her. Eren is asking her to give up everything she knows. 

“Eren,” she starts, squeezing his hand tighter. “I don’t know if I can do that.” 

He smiles at her, brushing his thumb across her knuckles delicately. “I understand. I know it’s a big ask, and I shouldn’t have expected you to say yes. I just…I just think I know what I can do for Paradis to make it safe for people like us. Somewhere we can be ourselves, where people will know us for who we are, and not for what they see on our armbands.”

“It sounds like paradise,” she says quietly.

“It does. And I think I could make it that way. I know I can.”

She sighs, retrieving the sponge again. “I want to believe you, Eren. But I don’t think I can throw away my life for something I’m unsure of.” She starts to slide his pants off, ready to wash below his waist.

“Please, just consider it. I plan to leave soon, within the next few days. I just have to send out a letter tomorrow, and I should be ready to go.”

“You’re leaving? Already?”

“I know what I have to do now. I can’t waste any more time when we can end this war now.”

She peers at him, tears welling in her eyes. “I…” 

“What is it?” He sits up, leaning in close to cup her cheek, brushing away her falling tears. 

“Will we ever see each other again?” Her voice is trembling, lips quivering. His heart sinks into his stomach, seeing her like this.

He presses his forehead to hers. “I’ll find you when this is all over. I promise you. Whatever you do, don’t go anywhere near the shore, okay?” The small-scale Rumbling should only affect the fleets, which will be in the middle of the ocean, far from the shore. Still, he can’t risk anything happening to her. Not when he isn’t there to protect her.

She nods, not asking for any further explanation. He presses a small kiss to her forehead. “I’m going to do whatever it takes to bring us peace.” 

~~~

Eren asks you to drop off a letter in the mailbox, addressed to someone named Azumabito. Apparently, she is an ally to Eldians who is stationed here in Marley, so she can arrange a ship for him to head back home. 

There are still so many questions left unanswered, though you decide not to ask them. Maybe it’s foolish to trust someone you’ve only known for a month. But Eren has given you more truth about this harsh world that anyone else the entire time you’ve been here. And he’s the only one who’s ever promised you a better life. 

Two days after you mailed the letters, you receive a response. It’s addressed to you, though you’re sure it’s meant for Eren. There’s a fancy insignia stamped to one corner of the envelope: a circle with a triangle in the center, formed by samurai swords. You keep it safe in your pocket as you head for the kitchen, ready to deliver Eren’s dinner. 

He reads it when he’s finished with his meal. You watch as he scans the letter carefully, mouthing a few words under his breath. When he reaches the end, he looks up at you, a small grin on his face. “She’s arranged a ship for tomorrow morning, before sunrise.”

You gasp, surprised at how soon his departure is. “Tomorrow?”

He nods, folding the letter and tucking it beneath his pillow. 

You let out a deep breath, unsure what else to say. Noticing your quiet demeanor, he reaches for your hand to hold it. “I know this is happening so fast. But I’ve never been more certain about what I need to do until now.” He interlocks his fingers with yours, smiling. “And you helped me with that.”

“Me? How?”

“By being you. By giving me a chance to explain myself. Even when you found out I was from Paradis, you didn’t judge me. You got to know me. It showed me that there are people, good people, on this side. That even in a ruthless place like this, there is beauty to be saved.” 

You don’t say anything, throat too heavy with emotion to respond. Blinking away your tears, you take his tray from his lap, walking quickly to the door. Before you can leave, he asks, “Can you please come back to help me shave?”

Without turning to face him, you nod, exiting his room, stifling your sobs on your way down the hallway. Your heart yearns for more time with him. For the past few weeks, being here has been an escape from your painful reality. You’re not seen as an Eldian, you aren’t considered a second-class citizen. With him, you’re just you. 

You know that you can’t keep him caged here forever. Like a bird, he’s ready to spread his wings. He’s ready to be free. While you’re heartbroken to see him leave, you’re thrilled for him to fulfill his destiny. All you can hope is that one day, you’ll be reunited in a better place than here. 

You return to his room a couple of minutes later with everything you need to give him a close shave. His facial hair has grown out quite a bit since he arrived. You lather his face with a small amount of soap, scrubbing the suds off with a warm, wet towel. He closes his eyes, indulging in your relaxing touch. After mindful preparation, you begin to shave his goatee with a straight razor, pulling his skin taut, gliding the blade carefully across his chin, cleaning it after every stroke. When you’re done with his beard, you focus your attention on his mustache, delicately moving the razor until his skin is smooth and shaven. You smile as you wipe off any remaining residue with the towel. 

With everything discarded into the bucket of water set on the nightstand, you take this time to admire his face, memorizing every detail. The flutter of his lashes, the bridge of his nose, the sharpness of his jawline, the plush of his lips. It’s only now that you realize how close to him you are. You’re kneeling beside him on the bed, noses almost touching, your fingers grazing his smooth skin. He opens his eyes to look at you, and his breath hitches at the intimacy, glancing at your mouth. 

Before you can move, he closes the short distance, kissing you on the lips. As quickly as it happens, he pulls away, blushing. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have asked first. I’m sorry – ”

You cut him off with another kiss, hungry for more. It’s his last day; in mere hours from now, he’ll be gone, and you’re not sure when you’ll see him again, if ever. It’s crossed your mind many times by now, how it would feel to be with him like this. The feeling of his lips on yours, the slide of his tongue in your mouth, the taste of his spit. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you’ve never thought about it. In fact, it’s been on your mind every night as you fall asleep, wishing you were in his arms instead of alone in your bed. 

He doesn’t pull away this time, sinking in deeper, slipping inside your mouth to swirl his tongue with yours. He’s just as sweet as you fantasized he’d be, luscious and rich in your mouth. His skin is smooth against your fingertips, tracing his jawline. One hand slides around your waist, tugging you closer to him, the other wraps around the nape of your neck, holding your head steady. You swing one leg over him, straddling his lap, hoisting the hem of your dress past your hips, revealing your panties. He moans, shifting beneath you in the bed to slip his trousers down, displaying his erection bulging in his underwear.

“Is this okay?” he huffs, catching his breath. His voice wavers, his only visible eye half-lidded with arousal, unable to keep his cool.

“Yes,” you answer, grinding yourself on him, kissing him sloppily. His grip is on your hips, guiding you to rut against his cock faster. The friction between you is enough to make you wet, your slick soaking through the fabric. 

“You’re an angel,” he whispers, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth. “I want to make you feel good.” His thumb teases the elastic of your waistband, hand slipping inside to rub your clit against his fingers. 

“Eren,” you moan, his sensual touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. He slowly slides two digits inside you, massaging your bud with his palm while he pumps his fingers into your sopping cunt. His cock is stiff beneath you, watching you ride his hand, cursing under his breath until you reach your climax, coating him in your arousal. 

You’re breathing heavily, in a daze from your orgasm. He removes his hand from you, slipping it past his underwear to jerk his cock. You reach for him, tugging his bottoms down his legs, replacing his fist with yours, stroking him eagerly. He whispers your name, bucking his hips in tandem with your movements. You’re aching for more, desperate to feel him inside you, feel him deeper. You position yourself correctly, pulling the crotch of your panties to the side to  tease the head of his cock up and down your folds. He sits up on his elbows, watching you with a nervous expression on his face. “Are you sure?” he asks.

You nod, smiling at him. “I’m sure. I want to be close to you, Eren.”

He swears, letting his head fall back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. You sink down on him, his dick stretching you out smoothly, still sleek from your previous orgasm. He moans, craning his neck to take in the lewd sight before him. “Oh my god,” he groans, thrusting his hips into you. 

You ride him slowly, his entire length filling you up to the brim. He plants his feet into the mattress to fuck you deeper, the metal frame creaking with every thrust. It doesn’t take long until you’re both coming together. He shoots his load inside you while you gush all over him, creating a wet mess between you that you couldn’t care less about in the euphoric state you’re in. You lift off him, rolling to his side, relaxing into the pillow with him beside you, cradling you in his arms. He gives you a smooch on the cheek, nuzzling his nose with yours. “I meant what I said earlier.”

“What?”

“You really are an angel,” he says, smiling at you.

~~~

Eren wakes up alone, and he’s almost convinced that it was all a dream until he spots the small note scribbled on paper laying his nightstand. 

It’s too hard to say goodbye, so I won’t. I trust you to keep your promise. We’ll see each other again soon.

With daybreak approaching, Eren leaves for the docks quickly with only the clothes on his back and letters in his pocket, including hers. With sunrise teasing the horizon, he makes it to the meeting place just in time. He recognizes Azumabito and greets her, explaining the situation as they board the ship. She informs him that they are waiting for several other passengers, so he makes himself comfortable by a window.  

A few minutes pass and one of the crew approaches him. “Mr. Jaeger, there is a woman trying to board, claiming they are with you. Do you know anything about this?”

He glances out the window towards the docks and to his shock, he sees an angel with a suitcase in hand, talking to Azumabito. His heart races, overjoyed as he jumps out of his seat, sprinting out of the ship to meet her. 

[powerpuffobsession]

Am I the only one who feels that Hazbin Hotel's overall vibe is far too naive and upbeat for an adult cartoon about hell and redemption of sinners?

I feel like before writing this cartoon, Vivzie and the other writers should have made a trip to unfortunate areas of the world and watch how the lifestyle there rolls. Because hell is said to be a place of misery, where there is no trust and a lot of hate, both internal and external... Adam is an object of pure unfiltered hartred (both from writers and fandom) because he dares to live in heaven, such a safe and friendly-natured place...

And yet the sinners who happen to be main characters act more like school kids on a field trip (even more carefree than those, lol) - their selfish and sinful motives are so artificial and are brought up only when these characters need to look like a victim, not like criminals who somehow deserved a place in hell

Obviously, it's a manipulative trope to put them in a better light than Heaven and Adam (who is forever silenced by the writers and not allowed to voice any thoughts and reflections other than "hurr durr murder I luuuv murdering and being evil because that's what I was since I was born, even though Lilith and Eve, born literally the same way as me, were innocent victims from the get go, and no logical explanation for that will be provided whatsoever - men bad, women good")

In the light of all that, the sinners are too eager to trust each other and form "da epic powar of friendship" mlp-sonic-style

In a society built on terror, anarchy and survival instincts, no one would ever bother wasting vital power on noticing someone's problems and helping them out. Everyone is focused on their own problems and desires, and that's what drives them to act. Well, the exception may be family members, and even that varies

That's why Husk's intent to comfort Angel after the later attacks him over nothing at the bar, looks really fake, considering the setting. At first I thought that "loser baby" where Husk insults Angel, was some sort of revenge and Husk laughing in the spider's face. But no, it actually turned out to be a comforting song that started their friendship. Husk literally had no motivation to want to help Angel, because he was annoyed by him all the time prior. If there was some kind of basis for their bonding, I would have believed it. But not like this.

And Angel had no reason to actually like that sort of comfort. I get it when your best friend or a family member cheers you up in a harsh way - you know them. And even when coming from people you trust that can hurt. Now imagine a complete stranger doing that to you. That's actually something that shouldn't be done - trying to playfully insult or jester a person you haven't communicated with for a long enough time to gain their trust. And to make this even more strange, Angel at first reacts negatively, but then suddenly snaps to liking that disrespectful way of comforting for no reason at all.

And why did Angel even vent his problems to Husk, a stranger bartender who he'd hurt before. Wasn't he actually afraid of being laughed at and of Husk using his trauma to spread gossip around or something?

Next, Sir Pentious. In the pilot (which is officially part of canon, mind you), he already felt like a joke sunday cartoon villain, but at least he had some edge to him that made him look like a sinner with some dark history. In the series however, he gets nerfed the very moment he steps into the hotel to the point where it's painful to look at

His tendency to abuse his henchmen, his physopathic demeanor, his hartred for Cherri (instead of embarrassing attempts to get blue balled by her), his sincere power hunger - where did all that go? Vanished in a blink of an eye. All that's left of a promising snake demon is a pile of fanservice. So morally unchallenging and harmless that a viewer theoretically simply cannot resist loving him

Well i'm kind disappointed. We don't even know in what way Sir Pentious had to improve, because the plot never focused on his past, his life goals, whatever made him want to lead turf wars and whatever awful things he did in life, what was the point where he started degrading... none of that. He just became a better person after one "sorry song" and acted perfectly innocent ever since and didnt put any effort into getting ready to sacrifice himself for other main characters

The sacrifice... to me it's baffling how fast the sinners, over the course of just 6 months, actually became Charlie's family figures and risked their lives for her hotel. Such pure child-cartoon-styled power of friendship, built in hell, with the aid of a princess who cant even think through her project of helping sinners without bringing them more trouble... realistically, Charlie would have had to fight angels alone (how convenient it is that no main characters died in that chaotic brawl, right?)

And Charlie herself is far too naiive and soft-natured for someone who is free to walk along the streets of hell looking at all the muder, rape and othe horrible stuff that's happening there. Given that she's 200, Charlie had more than enough time to built up her street smarts and guts and learn to be more practical and mindful, instead of staying with the mind of a 12 year old who needs other characters to do everything for her (Lucifer, Vaggie, Alastor) and then get praised for THEIR efforts. That's hell's royalty and our main character?

Aaand since sinners are portrayed as Charlie's "people" (as if they are a nationality), sweet babies who all deserve redemption and are called innocent by Emily (I can't believe how dumb the writers made angels be) - the true essence of exterminatons is never focused on. Adam and his exterminator army are seen in the wrong, like some kind of monsters who terrorize poor souls. However, think about this - child molesters, rapists, torturers, bullies, nazists, actual racists etc died in those exterminations. Doesnt that seem like something a lot of us would want? To have scum like this disappear as revenge for people they have hurt/driven to suicide?

Exterminations are not really an act of racism, bigotry or something like that. They are an excecution of criminals, which a lot of sinners are.

But the black and white writing is trying to conceal that rather prominent highlight of the rotten part of Charlie's plan (not all sinners deserve mercy or redemption). All that was needed was to make exterminators these icky "villains" who luuuv killing and are never willing to listen

All in all, a cartoon that has an ambitious premise that should be driven by psychological reasearch/analysis and dark serious themes... makes me roll my eyes with its cliche use of "power of friendship" and " strictly good main characters, strictly bad villains" tropes. Too bad such beautiful animation was wasted on such juvenile writing that never had any effort put into it

There shouldn't even be any villains or heroes in a setting like this. Allow the lead roles (sinners in hell) do something actually questionable and be unlikable, don't coddle the viewer in fear of making them even the slightest bit uncomfortable. Allow those, who opposes sinmers, have personalities and reasons, not cliche sociopathy for sociopathy's sake to cause forced sympathy for the main characters

Pristine "safe" writing should not have a place in adult cartoons. Or else they will stay a product that'd rather be watched by 7-14 year olds instead of adults (I can't picture a single adult over 22 who would unironically call hazbin hotel a show that tackles realistic issues in an observant way)

[piastriesque]

leave the scent fa14 x reader

⤷pairing: fernando alonso x fem!reader

⤷warnings: cheating, manipulation, suggestive

⤷summary: fernando may be a cheater but at least he smells so good

⤷word count: 1.1k

note: 'cologne' by beabadoobee inspired me to write this. i wanted to add link, but it didn't look the way i wanted it to, i didn't know how to make it smaller. anyways, it's really fun song. i apologize for any mistakes

“Mmm,” you murmured, hugging him. “You really smell so good. I absolutely love your cologne.” “I noticed,” Fernando chuckled. “The bottle of it is nearly empty. But I guess I should buy another one since you like it so much.” “Yes, please.” You rested your head on the nape of his neck to smell it better. “Speaking of scents… you smell different today.” he whispered in your ear, “Do I sense musk?” “Yes, white musk. I bought it yesterday.” “Hmm, what else do we have here?” he inhaled deeply, “Vanilla, cedarwood, bergamot, and…” “You are so good at it. I believe there’s also pear, rose, jasmine…” you were thinking “Wait. I'll just show you the packaging.” After a brief moment, the man held the perfume box in his hands. He read the product description with interest to find out what fragrance notes he did not detect. He then opened the box and slowly took the bottle out of it. Inside was a small glass rose. He had to admit that it looked quite realistic. “The bottle was the first thing that caught my eye. Look at these thorns!” you were quite excited, “This rose is tiny, but attention to detail has been maintained.” “It’s gorgeous,” he agreed. “Okay, enough about the bottle.” You put the perfume back on the shelf and walked closer to the man. “What do you think of the fragrance?” “It’s quite… intense.” “Intense? Is this a bad thing?” you laughed, but actually felt a little insecure, you really cared about his good opinion. “No. Of course not. You smell great. It was definitely a good choice,” he reassured you. “But very different from what you used before.” “I know. I guess I want to be more… seductive.” You could feel your cheeks turning red. “Seductive?” he smirked and came closer to you. You nodded, embarrassed. “If so,” he grabbed you by the chin and lifted it so that you looked into his eyes, “How about showing me how seductive you are?”

You were lying on his chest, drawing zigzags on it with your finger. You wanted this moment to last forever. “Nena,” he kissed your head, “I have to leave in a minute.” “No, please stay longer,” you pouted. “I can’t. I have to go home. Javi is sick,” he explained while stroking your hair. You weren't going to argue anymore. You knew how important his children were to him, and you understood that. Nevertheless, the position you held in his life did not satisfy you. On the other hand, what could you expect going into a relationship with a married man with children? This is the question your voice of reason should prompt you to ask. Unfortunately, your voice of reason and moral compass have drowned in the Spaniard's brown eyes. Sometimes when remorse would catch you, you would recall his words about his wife. About how badly she treats him. How the feeling between them had faded years ago, and they are only together because of the children. About the fact that the children are growing up, and it will soon be the right time to divorce. “What's going on in that beautiful mind?” his voice snapped you out of your reverie. “Do you love me?” “Of course,” he kissed you softly, “I love you. Where did this silly question come from?” “I wonder if you are taking me seriously. We only meet at my place. We can't go to the park together or to any restaurant. Nowhere. I can't call you when you're at home. I don't know your friends. You don't want to introduce me to your parents. You're even hiding your address from me,” you were upset and tired. “Mi amor.” Fernando started caressing your cheek, “I will soon introduce you to my children, parents, and friends. I will brag about you in front of everyone. We will go on romantic dates regularly. And as for my address, one day you will know it by heart… You will live in this house.” “Are you serious? Are we going to live there?” “Of course, cariño. You, me and my… sorry, our children. I mean, only if that’s what you want” You smiled widely and kissed his lips, “I want it.” “I’m glad,” he smiled and unlocked his phone to check the time. “I think I really should go.” “Why don't you stay a little longer? I don't think this will hurt anyone. I’m not done yet.” You put your hand on his chest, slowly running it down his body. “Let’s go for another round,” you whispered in his ear. “You know what,” he kissed your neck, “You really are seductive.” You knew you wouldn't be able to drag out the moment of his leaving, but you hoped he would at least leave the scent of his cologne.

Fernando was right; your new perfume really was intense. After leaving your flat, he could smell them on himself all the time. His cologne was also strong, but a sensitive nose could sense that it was mixed with some other scent. He was afraid his wife would do it.

“Mi amor,” he greeted his wife, entering the room. “Hi. Your meeting lasted a little longer than it was supposed to.” She said while cutting vegetables. “Unfortunately. But you know how it is” he sighed “As a little compensation, on my return, I went shopping. Kids still in school?” “Yes, they will need to be picked up soon.” “I will do it,” he declared, “But first… I have something for you.” “Really? What’s that?” The man pulled a box from his shopping bag. He then handed it to the woman. “Perfume?” She smiled, holding a bottle with a glass rose inside. “As soon as they fell into my hands, I immediately thought of you.” “The design is really beautiful.” “Design? Wait until you smell the fragrance,” he laughed and took the bottle from her hands. Fernando sprayed the perfume in the air and walked into it, with a proud face. “Stop it” she couldn’t stop giggling, “You are about to use up all the perfume.” She walked up to the man and hugged him, and he kissed the top of her head. “I must say, it smells really nice,” she acknowledged. “You see, I have a taste. And it's not just this perfume, I've also chosen the most gorgeous woman to be my wife.” The woman looked deep into his eyes, “Thank you. For the perfume and for everything. Thank you for being in my life. I love you.” “I love you too.”

[theblogformydeluluself]

Bittersweet Butterbeer ~ M.R.

Summary: You meet an old friend with her best friend at three broomsticks and they ask you about the slytherin boys, so your friends, because her bestfriend has a huge crush on Mattheo. Little do they know, he's you're boyfriend.

Warning: Englisch is NOT my first Language, so I'm sorry for any misspellings, shitty grammar or bad wording.

Other information: female reader, use of Y/N, slytherin reader

Word Count: 1.2 k

Song recommendation: Back to december (Taylor's Version) ~ Taylor Swift

Likes, comments and reposts are appreciated ♡

Today me and an old friend are gonna meet at the Three Broomsticks. We grew up in the same village but started to grew apart after I got accepted at Hogwarts and she got into Beauxbatons.

But since it's the Triwizard Tournament, she is at Hogwarts and asked if we wanted to meet.

I was very happy that she invited me, so of course I accepted. She wants to meet in half an hour, so I put my shoes on and leave my room and seconds later also the common room.

»Y/N wait!« I hear someone call, so I turn around. Nott stops in front of me, quite out of breath.

»Are you going to Hogsmeade?« »Yes.« I answer simply. »Would you like to have some company?« »It would be a pleasure.« I say in a joking voice, and Theo just laughs before putting an arm around my shoulder.

•••°°◇°°•••

»There you go madame.« he says as he opens the door for me. »Thanks Teddy.« I giggle before entering the Three Broomsticks.

I look around and recognize my friend at one of the corner tables. She hasn't changed a bit and she also doesn't seem to be alone.

»Hey Stacy.« I greet her the second I arrive at the table. Two faces turn to me in super speed.

»Y/N, hi! I'm so happy to see you and WOW you look so different! « She gives me in a small hug after she stood up.

»Well I mean it's been a while since we last met so…« »Yeah, right, right. Come sit down. And yeah, this is Lucilla by the way.« she points at the other girl that's sitting at the table.

»Oh, you can call me Lucy of course.« she says with such a fake smile and voice, that I just want to get up and leave.

»Did you guys ordered something or were you waiting for me?« »Oh, we arrived just a few minutes ago, so there wasn't even the possibility to order something.«

»Okay, so three butterbeers then?« I ask but i was not really expecting an answer.

»Eww, no. Why would I drink something like that? It's too many calories. Don't you have anything healthier here?« Lucilla interrupts my walk to the counter.

I slowly turn around and take a deep breath »Well, I can ask if they have something more healthy but it is a specialty that you usually drink when you are at hogsmeade.« I guess my smile now is as fake as hers was a few moments ago, but I don't really care.

I thought it would be a nice reunion of old friends, but instead I have to deal with a snake. I mean I should be used to it, in my common room I'm surrounded by snakes, even my best friends are snakes but they are harmless in comparison to her. If she would get sorted into a house, she would open up a new one just for the shittiest of them all.

•••°°◇°°•••

I thought this reunion couldn't get any worse, but unfortunately I was wrong.

It seems that these girls just invited me, because they wanted to know more about my friends and not to know what's been going on in my life lately.

At first I was disappointed but at second thought I'm glad, because now I don't really want to be friends with her anymore. Also it's quite amusing how obsessed Lucilla is with Mattheo.

Every second sentence she asks something about him. Like »What's his favourite colour?« or »What is he doing after class ends?«.

I thought about telling random shit, just to start some dumb rumours, but I decided against it.

»Do you know his friends?« she asks me, breaking me out of my thoughts. »Well I think so.« I slightly chuckle about my answer, but I don't think they understand it. Understand how dumb this question was.

Everyone at hogwarts knows that I am a part of this friendgroup, that I am one of the cool kids. I mean, I am part of this friendgroup since it exists. But they won't know it because they don't go to hogwarts.

»So you know Lorenzo?« »Yes.« »And Theodore?« »Yeah.« »Draco and Blaise?« »Yes, also them.«

»Did you hear that Stace, she knows them all.« I hear a sort of disbelief in her voice but I decide to don't care because I know I'm not lying.

»And did you know, that Pansy and Mattheo are together?« »Oh, they are together?« I ask half confused and half amused. »Hah! Knew it. You ain't friends with them. A friend would know something like that. I mean as if someone like Mattheo would willingly be around someone like you.«

»Luce, Luce.« interrupts Stacy, Lucillas offensive speech. »He just came through the door.« »Who?« »Mattheo.« »Really? Do I look good?«

Lucilla strokes her hair several times and touches up her lip gloss. And I'm just thinking about the fact that even the best make-up couldn't do anything against her ugly character.

»Oh my God, he's coming right at us. He is getting closer and closer. I knew that he just couldn't resist me. I mean, look at myself, I'm pretty, blonde-« »And so modest,« I add, because I just can't keep my mouth shut anymore.

Lucilla gives me a dirty look before turning her attention back behind me.

»Hello, my love.« I hear him and lean my head back to get my kiss. He leans over me and gently presses his lips to mine.

Without me being able to control it, my body relaxes and my inner restlessness fades.

»Aren't you going to introduce me to the two ladies?« »Oh, I'm-« »Actually, I wasn't planning to, no.«

I stand up and take my jacket from the back of the chair. »I'd like to say that the meeting was really nice and we should do it again, but that would be a lie. It would have been nice not to see you, hopefully we won't bump into each other again.«

I turn my back on the two of them and hook up with Mattheo. »Matty, thank you for picking me up. Love you.« »You know I love you more don't you?« »Yes, I know that. But I love it when you admit it.«

Tagglist: ---

[amalgamate-exe]

Dye Dye My Darling

IRL's plz dont read ^^

Eli -Hawk- moskowitz x M!reader

This is like my first full fic so enjoy!

~~~~~~

Warnings: Unedited, Earlier series hawk, Flirting some and a whole lot of hair dye.

___________________________

Hawk and you have been dating for about 6 months which would make you the luckiest girl in the entire tri-state area if this was some cheesy rom-com, but alas that's not how life worked out for you two. Unfortunately hard-core Karate kids and of course… kyler wouldn't be so chill with you two together, but that was beside the point. You were sitting with your friends at lunch admiring Hawk from afar Admiring him, the way his liberty spikes stood larger than life, the way his nose crinkled when he was laughing, probably about the Miyagi- do kids, or some new internet video that hasn't become post ironic yet, His cleft lip his-

“Earth to Y/N?” One of your friends ask 

“Hm sorry? Yeah what's up?” you ask still wanting to keep an eye on your boyfriend, you had no reason to stare but he was just… so pretty, like a Greek sculpture with his liberty spikes seeming to tower on forever

“Did you get the answers for number 6 for Math? You’re a nerd and like- Hey are you even listening to me?” Your friend follows your gaze to see “Oh for the love of gods Y/N I understand you want to live out your little romance but how many times do I have to tell you? He’s taken and… no offense, You're not his… his type!” this was almost a weekly conversation at this point, your friends and anyone else just assumed you had a crush on Hawk, but it didn't matter you two had each other and he invited you over to his house to hang out and play Tekken, and maybe… just MAYBE he’d let you dye his hair, his roots were overgrown and his hair was more of a blue-green bleached color rather than the aggressive red or any other color he has had in the past 6 months. 

“Sure thing F/N, anyways here are the answers for the homework,” You say keeping an eye on Hawk. And sliding F/N the answers

The rest of your classes after lunch went by fairly quickly, nothing interesting or notable except that on Friday there would be a huge party at the creek. The final bell rang as you started walking to His house, when you heard the clop-clop of heavy boots on the pavement behind you you turned around and see Hawk 

“Hey! Were you just gonna walk off and leave me back at that hell hole?” He asks giving you a playful nudge in the side

“Oh sorry I figured you wouldn't want to be seen with me, social hierarchy and stuff,” you say with a smirk, understanding the cliques in high school are very important, just like 80’s movies. 

“Not that I don't want to see you! I get like during lunch where you’re playing all stealth, but I love seeing you, I crave you” he says with a smirk as you walk back to his house.

Once you get into his house you both drop your bags and sit on the couch next to each other, you start playing Tekken 7 on his play station, He selects Devil Jin and you select King, as you two start playing and getting into the groove of the game, you decide to pop the question,

“Hey Pigeon~,” You ask in an almost sing-song voice

“yeah, babe?” He asks Lasered focused on the game, some things never change

“I was thinkin’ like your hair is just bleached now all the colors faded out, and I was wondering if I could dye it for you?”

“No way in hell” Responds quick and toneless

“Aww, why not?” You ask attempting to counter His attack and failing miserably 

“Because you're going to mess it up then you made a fool out of both of us! I'll trust you a lot, however my hair dye, my spikes? No one touches those”

“Well, you weren't complaining when I was touching them the other night!” You quickly retort back

“That's– that’s beside the point,” he says slightly flustered “No one touches my hair for upkeep except me!”

“So you're saying that you trust me to give you a PERMANENT tattoo over more or less Temporary hair dye?” You ask with a smirk

“What-? No, that's not what I'm saying at all!” He seems annoyed but that could be because you're beating him at video games rather than you attempting to get permission to dye his hair

“I've been dying my hair since I was like 13 if anyone knows anything I do. Also, would you rather have a little purple on your forehead or the weird half-blond green with roots you have going on now?”

He thinks for a moment as he hits a combo on you, the TV plays a little sound and goes “Player 2 WINS!” 

“Wanna know what, Fine, you can dye my hair ONCE” and if you fuck it up you will have to be the one who goes out to buy black box dye to fix it, AND deal?”

You smile and steal a kiss “Deal” 

You guys go to his bathroom and he changes into his hair-dye shirt, 

“Can't you just be topless?”

“No! You're going to be messing with MY hair. I don't need your eyes somewhere they shouldn't be!” 

“Oh sure! I'm the one ogling you when your shirt is off, I swear if you think i'm bad you should SEE your teammates when you take off your Gi top”

“Well last time I checked, I wasn't taking my teammates to bed with me” he responds with a smirk as he takes the bright Red hair dye bottle from under the sink and hands it over to you, then he kisses you on your cheek, “Ok now don't make me regret letting you do this… ok”|

“Fine” 

After you start mixing the dye and put on gloves you start applying the dye to his head,

“Are you sure you didn't forget a step?” he asks with a smirk as you apply the dye to his hair

“Well if I did it's too late now… here my phone is in my pocket. play some music” You shift your weight so he can take your phone out of your pocket and he plays something, the noise of chiptune and 8-bit music fills the room, it is lively in its way 

“Hey this is kinda good what is it?” you ask about halfway done slopping (painting) on the red pigment to his hair

“You're not gonna believe me,” he says with a smirk

“Oh come on, you've seen my taste in music at times, this is good, what is it?” 

“It may or may not be the undertale soundtrack by Toby Fox?” he says almost embarrassed, which causes you to burst out laughing

“God pigeon, no matter how much of a karate badass you are, you're still a nerd at heart… I could kiss you right now” 

“Now now, focus on my hair, need your blood in your brain…’ he looks you up and down “Other places,” he says smirking and giving you that damned look of flirtation 

“You know you’re making dying your hair seem like way more of an in-depth process than it is… also for your hair being bleached so many times it's still soft” You liked the conversation also the silence no matter how long you've been together still felt off-putting, he smiles 

“Thanks the hair dye I use has some conditioner property or something, also I use a shit load of conditioner you know it couldn't damage your hair too much if you wanted to dye your hair too” he was just straight flirting with you now but he seemed genuine with his offer causing you to blush, a lot 

“That doesn't sound like a ‘no’ to me, c’mon we can match,” he says with a smirk that you could never say no to. The way his cheeks moved, the way his-

“Hey space cadet, can I dye your hair while mine is setting?” He asks while he's turning his head making sure every bit of the hair is saturated with the crimson dye’

“Yeah, that would be nice… though you better not fuck it up,” you say playfully.

Once you are done dying your hair and rinsing it out, the bathtub looks like a murder scene, with red dye along the bathtub and partially up the wall

“Holy shit your mom is going to kill me!” You say looking back at the mess you've made, hair dripping in front of your eyes, which causes Eli to scoff

“She's fine with it, who do you think took me to buy the dye in the first place? It just needs some TLC and it’ll all be good, baby” He says in a playful tone of voice while wrapping his arms around your waist. “The red streak looks cute on you too,” he says kissing your cheek, it feels nice his hands around your waist, and you lean more into him 

“Hey since you don't have to get going for a few more hours, wanna watch a movie? Something cheesy like clueless or… 10 things I hate about you?” He shrugs holding you close

“Both sound perfect”

[imperiuswrecked]

So I was browsing through some of your old posts and one of them mentioned that Namor was r*ped? When did that happen? Would you ever consider writing something that deals with the fallout of that? Hope you're doing well btw

Thank you, I am doing fine, and I hope you are too! CW for Heavy/Dark Themes, Rape, Sexual Assault.

(During the 90s Reed Richards was written out of Fantastic Four comics, and presumed dead by literally everyone in the comic world except for Susan who believed he was still alive. In real world time Reed was gone for years, and this was really unheard of for one of Marvel's important characters because the Fantastic Four were Marvel's big team. So it really looked like Reed wasn't going to come back. I say this to let you know why Reed wasn't around in these comics, and to mention that Susan never cheated on Reed.)

So I was browsing through some of your old posts and one of them mentioned that Namor was r*ped? When did that happen?

Yes, Namor was canonically raped in Namor, the Sub-Mariner (1990) #49-50; Empress Llyra (the shapeshifting half Human/Lemurian woman who poisoned Namora, killed Lady Dorma, and helped Tiger Shark kill Namor's father, and tried killing Namor) shapeshifted into Susan (The Invisible Woman) and raped Namor. The next day Namor finds out that Susan never slept with him and that it was Llyra, he snaps and tries to kill her but is stopped by Susan, and the text is very explicit in saying "There's a word for what she did to me, Susan. Had it been committed against you, would you not feel justified?", and this was confirmed by the writer Glenn Herdling in an interview by Twomorrows Back Issue #91.

Back Issue #91: Namor #50 (May 1994) deals with a touchy subject, as Herdling points out. "My friend Chris Cooper, a former Marvel editor and author of Songs of the Metamythos, recently reminded me that Namor was raped in an issue I wrote. In her attempt to spawn an heir to the throne of Atlantis, Namor's nemesis Llyra seduced him by disguising herself as Sue Richards. Chris asked me if I regretted writing that scene. I told him that I thought it was a powerful story, and if I had to tell it all over again, I wouldn't change a thing. People don't think a strong, virile hero like Namor - who represents the essence of masculinity - could ever be a victim of rape. Namor is a attractive, stalwart individual with a magnetic personality who has always been portrayed as having an insatiable appetite for the fairer sex. When a female adversary takes sexual advantage of such a man, a common reaction is, 'So what?' Sue Richards illustrates this double standard when she demands to know why Namor was in a homicidal rage. Namor retorts, 'If the act had been committed upon you, Susan Richards, it would be called something else.' At the time if I had proposed such a story and the victim had been female, it would have never seen the light of day."

Would you ever consider writing something that deals with the fallout of that?

I have written many scenes that deal with the fallout of Llyra's actions towards Namor, and a have planned a big portion of my fic, Sub-Mariner: Ascension around the 90s and all that happens. Is any of it published on my Ao3 yet? No, but it will be sometime in the future.

Unfortunately I don't have a set date for when I update fics, it depends on my schedule, and my ability/energy to write. I've been struggling a lot with writing lately so I am working on trying to finish my other works before devoting myself back to my Sub-Mariner: Ascension fic as that's really my long time pet project, it's a fic that is more of a novel, or several novels, that chronical Namor's life through the comics but with a more in depth look at his adventures and his character, it's darker at some points than the comics ever go, and deal with a lot of heavy subjects like the above mentioned incident, as well as Namor's time growing up, his time in the war, with each team he's been on, and each loss he's endured. It's supposed to flesh out and connect a lot of threads that the comics never pick up on while including new original elements. I did commission a fanart of for this too, and I hope over time to commission more arts for this story, as well as finish writing it.

I have toyed with several ideas of a stand alone fics that covers what happened to Namor, this time and other instances*, but I was never sure if anyone would be interested in dark fics that has heavy angst/whump as well as dealing with this topic for Namor.

*This also isn't the first time Namor was raped, or sexually assaulted, however it's always played off, never spoken of again, or turned into "well he wanted it".

The first time a shapeshifter seduced and tricked Namor into sexual relations was in The Defenders (1972) #93; The dead Lady Dorma seemingly comes back to life and places a spell/mind control on Namor to do her bidding and attack the surface world. The Defenders figure out something is wrong with Namor and "Dorma" reveals herself as Nebulon, The Celestial Man. He was recurring enemy of The Defenders, and when Namor finds out that "Lady Dorma" was Nebulon he fights him and says, "You have violated my very consciousness, Nebulon -- defiled the memory of the fairest creature I have ever known! You have used me scum -- and The Sub-Mariner is not lightly used!" -- "When I think that I... held you in my arms -- let my lips brush yours... I am sickened."

(So while Herdling thinks he's written this happening to Namor for the first time, it's not, however Herdling does point out in no uncertain terms what it is. Which is a far better writing than what Johnny Storm (The Human Torch) got stuck with. It's actually so interesting that both Namor & Johnny got a story arc about a green skinned shape-shifter Llyra & Lyja who takes on the shape of other women to trick the men into sleeping with or marrying them only for the truth to come out. In fact Namor in these issues even thinks it's Lyja who raped him before figuring out it's Llyra.

While Namor got to say what happened to him was rape, Johnny doesn't. Johnny gets made fun of for Lyja. More about this subject in this post by @/ Traincat) )

Marvel Comics Presents (1988) #58 - Just an issue ago Namor was thinking suicidal thoughts over losing his wife, Marrina, and gets roped into helping some humans. Sandra touches and kisses Namor thinking that him being annoyed by her is just a front for unresolved sexual tension between them, but Namor rebuffs her and tells her that his affections are not so easily won. Later a mysterious old man tells Namor he needs to relax and to appreciate the pleasures life offers him.

Basically the comic dismisses Namor being uncomfortable with a strange woman who came onto him, and tells him he needs to enjoy himself. Nothing romantic happens between Namor & Sandra in later comics.

Namor, the Sub-Mariner (1990) Annual 3 - Namor is visiting a friend in Tokyo, and the friend's (wife? girlfriend? text just says woman) woman comes to Namor in the middle of the night seeking to sleep with him. He tells her this is improper, and she leaves, she returns more dressed, and seduces Namor again, against his protests, touching, kissing him, before a panel shows Namor giving in. It's later revealed the woman is a cyborg assassin.

The framing of this pretty much shows how uncomfortable Namor is with the whole situation.

Namor, the Sub-Mariner (1990) #36 - The Neried seek to seduce Namor by shifting their forms to look like Lady Dorma & Marrina, his dead wives, but he rejects him, and just like in The Defenders, he is enraged someone would take on the forms of women he loved so deeply and dearly.

The Invaders (1975) Annual 1 - The Shark, knocks Namor out, ties him up, changes his clothing to steal his speedos. While it's played for comedic effect, this isn't the first or last time a villain has tied Namor up, but I make special mention of this because of the fact that at one point while unconscious Namor was stripped naked against his will.

Villains often admire Namor's body, and remark on it. Honestly the amount of times Namor's been tied up, abused, experimented on, etc. happens so many times that it'd need it's own post.

One more I'd like to mention because of the implications is Dark X-Men: The Beginning #1 - Norman wants Namor on his side, and has a talk with Namor while he's in the shower (full comic) and while Namor definitely has the strength to defend himself, this is more of a psychological play by Norman, talking to a person while they are naked is a very vulnerable moment, the hand touch, etc. Norman knows he can't control Namor through brute strength so he positions himself in a way that gives him power over Namor while also offering Namor things he wants, a mention of how he can give Namor a place to belong, with Emma, a home on his team.

As many Namor fans know, Namor does not like to be touched without consent, even if its a tap on the shoulder, and while the comics have often implied it's because Namor is royal, he's arrogant, he doesn't want peasant hands to touch him, etc. honestly I personally just headcanon that after years of people touching him when he doesn't want to be touched he's just put up a wall of arrogance to defend himself from further molestation. It wouldn't be too far fetched to think so because even as a kid he was (physically & verbally abused) by his grandfather (Namor: The First Mutant (2010) #4), beat up by other Atlantean kids, etc. so why would he want people he doesn't trust touching him. He's unclothed a lot, and people think that means it's ok to touch when it's not. Even when it's just a person he knows, he doesn't like it.

Defenders (2001) #7

I know this is a long reply, but it's just a subject that I don't think gets discussed enough tbh. Also to make one final point is bringing this back to what Herdling said in his interview: When a female adversary takes sexual advantage of such a man, a common reaction is, 'So what?'

While I'm not a fan of Herdling's writing, his run on Namor, the Sub-Mariner (1990) had so many issues with plot, etc. I do think he makes an interesting point in this interview (that took place in 2016? I think) about the double standard male characters face when it comes to Rape, Sexual Assault, and on another note Domestic Abuse, or any time of crime that we typically associate with men doing to women, how there's a general lack of care. It's turned into a joke when a woman abuses a man, or how the man is treated as something less if he doesn't perform masculinity to societies standards. Namor + Masculinity is a topic that could be discussed further, because he is one of the characters that many people think has toxic masculinity but they just haven't read his comics. While Namor definitely has some bad qualities, he's also very confident in himself and his masculinity, so by Herdling not shying away from the subject that "yes, Namor was raped, no I don't regret writing it", it's so interesting. A lot of creators often just shy away from confirming anything or try to defend their choice to have a male character raped/sexually assaulted, or excuse it, or ignore it, or make fun of it, or blame the male character. ESPICALLY when a character is, like Namor, a lover, a flirt, probably promiscuous, they are blamed for what women do to them. One example that drives me so insane is Gambit. I'll put the rest under a cut since it's more graphic than what I've shared so far, and further down I analyze Namor, the Sub-Mariner (1990) #49-50 in more depth.

I think the only male character who's depiction of rape (twice) is actually done differently and not brushed off or treated as a joke is Captain Britain. (Of course there's probably other stories out there with other characters but I'm just going off what I know in the big 2, Marvel & DC comics). You can read this post that goes more into Brian's experiences by @/ Thisiswhatwereupagainst.

CW for Heavy/Dark Themes, Rape, Sexual Assault, Incestuous implications.

If you haven't read X-Men (1991) #171-173, then I'd warn you about how bad the writing is; a student, Foxx, propositions Gambit, comes onto him while he's in the shower, he rejects her. He's blamed for taking advantage of a student (why do characters think the worst of Remy, he's not a bad guy!), then he finds out Foxx is actually Mystique who claims to want to sleep with Remy for the sake of her daughter. He rejects her again, but doesn't tell anyone about it, and when it gets out that it's Mystique then Rogue is mad at Remy for keeping it a secret. The sexual assault isn't ever brought up again and is ignored, but again it was framed as "Remy is a sexual dude, he would be ok with it, besides who cares?" Just because a character is promiscuous doesn't mean they want/deserve something like this to happen to them.

Both Namor and Remy are seen as charming, they get the girls, "so what if they are subject to unwanted attention? They should enjoy it..."

It doesn't help that both Remy & Namor have had moments of queer writing, with Remy & Namor nearly being made Bisexual/Gay, (Namor's was in an AU) but they were barred from being canon lgbtq characters in Marvel by the bosses, even though there are times throughout their 616 comics where you can interpret them as not just cis straight men.

--- At the time if I had proposed such a story and the victim had been female, it would have never seen the light of day."

Nightwing (1996) #93 - Nightwing is raped while in an emotionally compromised state, but if he had been a woman would that issue have seen the light of day?

Wonder Woman (1987) #214 - The Flash (Wally West) is beaten and sexually assaulted by Cheetah.

He's a married man, but Cheetah calls him lover as she beats him, and is about to rape him before she's stopped. If it was reversed would this have been allowed to see the light of day?

Flash brushes off this experience.

I'm not saying that women in comics haven't been raped or assaulted but I'm just pointing to a few examples of how differently male vs female characters are treated, "because it's not acceptable for it to have happened to a woman but it's ok for a man" Herdling basically says.

A more in depth look at Namor, the Sub-Mariner (1990) #48-49.

First off the cover is just Bad. Like really bad, like "What on earth possessed you to make THAT cover?!" The theme of one man with a haram of sexy ladies isn't unheard of, that's not why it's bad though I do side eye it anyways, but the reason it's bad is because of who the women are.

Andromeda - Namor's friend, a proud a fierce Atlantean warrior, the daughter of Attuma, who has Namor's trust and confidence. Namor appointed her as Peacelord, she's basically become the captain of Namor's guard. While Andromeda has/had a crush Namor, nothing ever came of it and Namor never viewed her in a romantic light, only as a friend.

Marrina - Namor's second wife, they were happily married for a short time before Marrina turned into a sea monster, she breifely turns back into herself only to beg Namor to promise to end her life so that she no longer harms anyone else, and Namor honors her wish after she turns back into a sea monster, killing her with a magic sword. It makes sense for her to be on the cover.

Princess Fen - Namor's mother. Yes. His mother. Do I need to say more? Like why the fuck would you put Namor's MOM in a sexy lady Haram group shot with a title card that reads "Haunted by memories of lost love!" we know the writer intended romantic love, not platonic or familial love. Namor & his mom have never had an incestuous relationship ever.

Lady Dorma - Namor's first wife, who was murdered by Empress Llyra. He loved her very much. (I know people will always point out that Dorma was Namor's "cousin" but honestly the comics never state they are blood/close cousins, only a loose term of "cousins", Dorma was a Lady of the Altantean Court, a noble family.) They grew up as friends in court, and she was one of the only people who treated Namor kindly, and he doesn't even realize his true feelings for her until they are both adults. It makes sense for her to be on the cover.

Namorita - Namor's younger cousin. While I know there's people who will point out that Nita had a crush on Namor when she first knew who he was, I will also point out that Nita was like 16 years old, a stupid horny teenager who was raised alone (and probably abused) in the court of Empress Llyra after Llyra poisoned her mother, and Namor was the first person to defend her when she needed it, AND I will also point out her "crush" lasted barely a comic before she found a cute human sailor boy her age to crush on instead. Namor's only ever treated her like a little sister and again not in an incestuous manner. So again, why do we have her in a sexual position here?

Susan Richards - a married woman who long ago told Namor she doesn't love him several times, the Namor/Sue ship was dead in the water, and Namor had moved on from his infatuation, and was married twice. He never had his feelings reciprocated. I understand why she's on the cover but I just don't like it. lol.

The comic promises to dive into Namor's lost romances of the past, but out of all the women featured here the only 2 who loved Namor & he returned their love were Marrina & Dorma. For Andromeda it was a one sided crush on her end, and for Susan it was a unhealthy obsessive infatuation on Namor's end. It really feels like they just wanted to have sexy ladies on the cover and that's why its framed this way. Furthermore Namor is chained to the bed, while his arm is around Lady Dorma, he is staring blankly past everyone.

Namor is haunted by nightmares of losing his mother, of the Witch-Queen Artys-Gran, and of his dead wives.

He awakens and learns he's in a decompression chamber to stablize him. Susan and Namor talk about their lost spouses, and rekindle their friendship. However nothing romantic has happened between them. Later in the comic Namor is in bed, reading a book, at Oracle Inc. the company that he owns and runs, he has personal rooms, and a private pool, because he was living there most of the time, when a mysterious shrouded female figure enters in a short robe.

The comic ends in a cliff hanger, and the next comic it's revealed that it was Susan (Storm) Richards. Or is it?

The cover shows Namor kissing Susan while Johnny, Ben, and Lyja look on in shock and horror. The tagline on the inner splash page reads "Someone's been sleeping in my bed".

Namor and Susan get dressed for the day while discussing what happened last night. Namor feels uneasy but doesn't know why.

Namor goes off to his company for a meeting before going to Hydrobase to speak with Andromeda, and the off to see Nita who gives him some advice about dating, a tux, and flowers. Namor's happy but nervous, however when he gets to Fantastic Four and gives the flowers to Susan, Susan is confused and angrily snaps at Namor for touching her.

Ben punches Namor, everyone thinks Namor is trying to make a sleazy move on Susan for some reason, and while Namor's trying to explain and say it's between him and Susan, still believing that she was with him last night, all four of them battle, in the end Lyja shapeshifts into a monster to join the fight, and Namor seeing her change her form realizes that it wasn't Susan who slept with him last night. Mistakenly he believes that Lyja was the woman who came to him last night and attacks her. However he realizes it's not her, but that it was another shapeshifter. He leaves the Fantastic Four, and they follow.

Phoebe Marrs, an employee who took over running Oracle, and a recurring character from the series (earlier on in the series it was implied that her son's father was her twin brother Desmond, and Desmond died by suicide, however she's been seeing his "ghost") Namor figures out that the "ghost" is real, and it was a shapeshifter, his theory is right and it's revealed that Llyra has been around for ages posing as both Desmond and Phoebe on occasion. Also Llyra (as Phoebe) slept with both Jim Hammond (earlier in the series Jim thought he was sleeping with Phoebe who came onto him, so he was shocked to learn that it was Llyra, so she had raped him as she had Namor), and Leon McKenzie (*sigh* a secret son of Leonard McKenzie/his second wife, who then had a son named Leon, who would be Namor's nephew and works at Oracle, no one cares or remembers him).

At this reveal and the realization that he slept with his most hated enemy, again the woman who has poisoned his cousin Namora, who killed Lady Dorma, and helped kill his father, a woman he despises. A woman who since day 1 has wanted Namor romantically even though he never wanted her in that way. A woman Namor has vowed to kill in revenge for Dorma's death. Llyra raped him because he would have never slept with her if he knew. He snapped, and tries to kill her, and demands to know "why?", and Llyra spits on him as an answer. Namor tries to kill her, but is stopped by Susan. His hurt, his pain, his abuse, his rape is met with a "so what?" "no matter what she did to you, you can't kill her". Namor can't kill his rapist because Susan says he can't. Llyra then says he can't because she is pregnant with his child (She's not, it's Leon's child) and Namor is shocked, he lets her go, calls her a sick woman, Namor chooses not to press charges against Llyra and let's her go.

Then Namor loses it, like he starts laughing manically, and it makes the Fantastic Four uncomfortable so they just leave. Namor doesn't tell the rest of the Fantastic Four that he is sterile (this has since been retconned), and he can't have children, so he doesn't believe Llyra is pregnant with his child.

Later Susan shows up to check up on Namor, and he tells her he wanted to be alone with his shame, and they discuss how they could never be.

Then for some stupid reason Herdling has Susan and Namor kiss. It makes no sense, but Herdling liked the idea of Namor/Sue, but though the writer wanted, he knew he couldn't go further than a kiss. (Back Issue interview) I suppose people could look at it as a "a comfort/pity kiss" but honestly I hate the Namor/Sue ship too much to see it as anything but a writer's ship preference. People point to it to say Susan cheated on Reed by kissing Namor (this is the ONE time this happens) but at this point in the comics Reed is "dead". I hate when people try to say Susan is a cheating slut so it feels so disingenuous to say this was a kiss made of love or lust or whatever, instead of acknowledging that the writer really wanted to get a Namor/Sue kiss in.

Personally I think the issue of what happened to Namor is very overlooked by fans and creators, that Namor is a victim of rape, and how although it is acknowledged in it's moment, people still don't give it the gravitas it deserved, especially for a character like Namor. True this comic didn't brush off or ignore what Llyra did to Namor, but by the end of it, the Namor/Sue kiss, it really does feel like "ok, Namor is a little sad but he's ok once Susan REALLY gave him a kiss" so it does feel like the writer brushed off the effects of his abuse.

What's more, why? why would Namor ever feel comfortable kissing Susan when her likeness was used to hurt him? Why would be ok with any physical touch or sex or kissing when just a day before he was raped? Again, comics do not handle the fall out of rape well at all.

Now with Aaron writing Namor, and underwater politics, and a war for the Atlantean throne, I suppose we'll see if Llyra will ever return to make a play for the throne that she wants so badly, but I won't be surprised if Aaron doesn't ever use Llyra, because then he'd have to actually write about Namor confronting his rapist after Namor left Llyra to die in Fantastic Four Unlimited (1993) #11 (she survived somehow of course, but she hasn't interacted with Namor since.)

Anyways like Namor's canon PTSD, we won't get much depth into heavy subject matter and deeper characterization unless a good writer really wants to write it. And that's the full story of Namor's rape in Namor, the Sub-Mariner (1990) #49-50.

[the-kr8tor]

TTN oneshot request :): reader who's been invited to one of the parties after Hobie's band gigs. Hobie,being his usual teasing self,tries to make r dance with him to one of the songs that come from the speakers but he can't dance at all,so reader ends up teaching him.

-🎸 anon

Ahhh 🎸 anon!! I love this prompt thank you for sending it 🫶 I changed some things around hope u don't mind ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (r is mentioned to wear makeup though) cw drinking, poop jokes lol, TTN! Hobie, TTN! Reader. FLUFF

Thread the Needle Masterlist

TTN oneshots

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You lean against a railing overlooking the spacious backyard. Watching Yuri dismiss the third man who tried his luck tonight is better than any cable tv, she scoffs, waving the disappointed man away with her long nails. Yuri notices you giggling by yourself, she beckons you over to the dance floor with a smile. You shake your head with a laugh, gesturing to your half empty cup. She sighs dramatically, miming a crying face. You blame the booze in her system on why she's so lively. It's a nice change though, you love seeing her prance around the dance floor, looking for a more worthy partner.

The bass booms, playing all the classic punk music in the speakers. The sky is dotted with twinkling stars, cool air blowing past the grassy backyard. Roaming your eyes around the venue, you spot James chatting up a familiar figure, his arm slung comfortably around her shoulders. She laughs at something he said, her curls bouncing on her shoulders. You smile softly, happy for them both.

You turn around to face the inside of the ridiculously huge house. The home is packed with bodies bouncing around, the glass shakes from the loud music blaring inside. You see Ned becoming an unwilling bartender, mixing drinks for everyone after he got a particularly nasty bloody mary from someone who's so drunk they shouldn't even be near the kitchen.

With all the people watching you're doing, there's one person you haven't seen in a while. You wonder what he's up to, hopefully not to sneak behind you to carry and throw you into the icy pool—

“You're not very good at sneaking up on me anymore, Hobs”

Hobie groans right behind you, looking over your shoulder, you smirk at him. “How?” He effortlessly lifts himself up on the railing, arms envelope around you, his chin resting comfortably on your shoulder. You help secure him with your hands around his elbows.

“I can sense you a mile away.” You whisper the next part. “I think I got your spidey senses from hanging around you too much”

“You make it sound like a disease!” The alcohol makes him all gooey inside, just for you. “Y’know I have the cure right here”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Oh? What is it then?” Turning around, you face him fully, his arms never leaving your waist whilst your hands never leave his skin.

Hobie points at his lips quickly before he falls on the ground (like you would even let him fall with your hands holding him steady)

“Here”

“Ah! Is your cure tried and tested? Peer reviewed by scientists?”

“Only one way to find out”

You giggle, meeting him halfway to kiss his lips. He tastes of beer and licorice he's been chewing on since you've arrived at his friend's' house. Your hand blindly slides to the back of his neck, fingers scratching lightly. Hobie smiles into the kiss, his hands tucked into the back pocket of your jeans.

Unfortunately, you need air to survive so you reluctantly pull away. He chases your lips making you peck him thrice to ease his suffering from apparent lack of kisses.

“I think I just overdosed on your cure” you hold him close even with the wooden railing between you.

Hobie chuckles, “You'll be fine” he swipes away the sheen left on your lips.

“So considerate. Where have you been, huh?” You lean close to his ear. “Did you go out and fight crime? Are you okay?”

There's goosebumps on his arms, not from the cold. “Nah, I was in the bathroom, taking a huge dump–”

You clasp your hand over his mouth, Laughing through it. “I literally just ate, babe”

“Just answerin’ your question, Gromit. ‘m being honest it was big,” he measures using his hands, “this big. Record size” Hobie loses his grip on the railing, falling flat on his ass.

“Huh, I see a bigger one right here” you look down, seeing him feign offense with his hand clutching his imaginary pearls.

“I should've thrown you in the pool when I had the chance and then we’ll have a floater” he nonchalantly rests on the grass by his elbows. Looking up at you with a smug grin.

You roll your eyes, walking down the steps to help him up before he gets grass stains all over his leather jacket. Hobie clearly doesn't need your help getting up but he would take any opportunity to hold your hand. Your hands are still slightly cool from the drink, a stark contrast to his warm ones, a welcome difference to the both of you.

Heaving him up, Hobie meets you in a tight embrace, smothering you in his hold; you love it though. Slowly he sways you to the beat of a punk song you recognize from back when you and Hobie were in highschool together. A reminiscent of your younger days with only homework and school to worry about and the deep longing you have for your best friend now turned partner.

If only your younger self could see you now, she’d think you did well for yourself. She'd be proud of all the things you've accomplished with the love of your life with you.

“D’you remember this song?” Hobie whispers in your ear, his piercing kisses the shell of your ear.

“How could I not remember?” You lift your head from the comfort of his chest, eyes staring fondly at Him.

He chuckles, you feel the happiness vibrate from him. “Yeah, but d’you know the backstory?” you shake your head.

“I requested this song to the bloke who was holding us hostage with his shitty songs.” You chortle, Hobie continues his story. “I had to bribe the wanker,” he sighs. “So I could ask you to dance with me.”

Your eyes soften, heat behind your sockets, your hold on him tightens.

“Then I realized I can't fuckin’ dance and I'll make a bloody fool of myself in front of you. So I let the music play and continued to talk to you throughout the party because that was enough for me.” He pauses, your eyes are glossy, glimmering under the porch lights. “Being with you was enough.”

You feel the tears fall so you hide your face on his chest once again, feeling sorry for soaking his shirt, you let your hug tell your feelings.

“Don't hide from me right after I poured my heart out to you.” He laughs, his fingers spread across your nape, rubbing softly, finding you endearing. “C’mon, I need to see my Gromit”

You look up with red eyes, mascara and eyeliner smudged. “Fuck you” you say with tears on your cheeks, trying to sniff it away. But your wide smile and grip on his shirt tells your true feelings. “You're such a little shit”

Hobie laughs loudly, fingertips cleaning away smudged makeup. “Yeah, yeah, but you love this little shit”

You lean up to kiss him, as gentle as he holds you, as affectionate as he loves you.

Sighing, you cup his face. “I do, so much.”

He presses your foreheads together, enough to make tears escape your eyes once again. Hobie's fingers catch them, wiping it away from your skin.

“If you let me teach you will you ask me to dance with you?” Whispering, you loop your arms around his neck, swaying with the beat.

“I might be a lost cause, love.”

“I'm patient, don't worry” you can't seem to keep your lips away from him as you kiss the corner of his lips.

Hobie suddenly pulls away, leading you towards the makeshift dance floor. “Alright then, no time to lose!”

You let him guide you, laughing all the way. He shimmies on the dance floor, long limbs flailing about, eyes staying on you.

You've got your work cut out for you.

[simpingland]

'Alone' together// Lucerys Velaryon x fem!reader.

Y/N Celtigar and Luke have been betrothed for years, but the reader is having a hard time finding true friendship on Dragonstone. Some tutoring makes Luke change his mind about his wife to be.

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧

No one could stand Jace when he was ahead in any of the classes you all shared with the Master. That's why you took every lesson so seriously, just so you could take him down a peg or two. And it could be fun most of the time, but in the long run, you and Jace never quite clicked, causing Rhaena and Luke to stay somewhat aloof from you, preferring the favour of the prince to the favour of a pupil like you.

When everyone heard the news about Lady Celtigar's death, you were only eight. Rhaenyra saw in you a child who longed for her mother as she had longed for her own, and made a pact with your father to take you into her care. He agreed, proposing a marriage in return. It was a good idea, Valyrian blood with Valyrian blood, extending and strengthening houses that moved across the Seven Kingdoms. Unfortunately, though you were the same age as Jace, Baela was also a close child and the idea of her being queen in the future protected Rhaenyra and Jace's reign...so you were promised to Luke.

It could have been worse, they could have promised you Joffrey...or worse...Jace! At least Lucerys, as you found out a few days later, turned out to be a good boy, if a little too childish for your taste. Growing up in Dragonstone had been quicker than anyone expected, but no less hard. The siblings were very close to each other, and they were also very close to their dragons. Rhaena was sweet and pleasant, but there was something about her company that made you feel as if she was there out of obligation. You never had the feeling that you belonged there.

Arguments between the four of you were very common, never worrisome as they were usually the typical ones caused by going on adventures together, by stealing things from each other... although if someone came out crying, it was usually you. You were a studious young woman, always alert and if Rhaenyra found out about all the shenanigans of the group, it was because you told her. They never listened when you justified yourself by saying that lying was not an option for you. At dinners together you were usually the one who was left out of the conversation, even if they were talking about you. If you were lucky and Luke got mad at Jace too, you had the young man sitting next to you as he prattled on about Arrax and how much he hated Jace that day. He never failed to make you laugh. Sadly, that didn't always happen, and it was more common for him to give you the same dirty looks as the rest when you didn't play along.

Rhaenyra already knew about this problem, and she tried to educate you on how being friends with your husband was always the best way to be married. The problem was that you didn't really know how to make friends...because no one understood how you loved them, everything you said or did ended up being used against you. And no matter how much you made up your mind that you shouldn't do anything, you couldn't help but stay at the table with Luke after he failed his geography lesson with the Maester. Jace had already left for his dragon with a victorious smile, and Rhaena accompanied him, the Maester would show her how to feed her little Morning.

Luke was more embarrassed than sad, you could see it in the way he looked down at you as you paced the table with the map.

"Don't you have one of your sewing classes or one of those lame things you like to do?" he asked.

"I don't like boring things...I just like to be quiet. It's different. And no, I can stay and help you."

"No need, thanks..." he tried to concentrate on the map.

"You should learn some trick to memorize the map...a song, a rhyme..."

"That's just stupid." He interrupted you and you instantly stopped wanting to help him. Something must have crossed your eyes because Luke felt bad right away. "Sorry...it's just...Jace will laugh at me if he sees me burst into song if someone asks me to point out the Isles of Tarth."

This made you laugh, and Luke smiled at your reaction. It wasn't very casual to see you laugh genuinely, it was always usually out of politeness or only brought on by the Maester, Rhaenyra, or some guard. Although, if he thought about it, Luke had seen you laugh at times when he had focused more on you than on the dinners.

"It's just a trick, you end up memorising it eventually. Besides, by the time you're Lord of Driftmark you'll have travelled more. It will be easier."

"How do you memorise it?"

"Oh..." you didn't expect that question. Perhaps because the answer was so personal. "I think about my family. Where my grandmothers were born...where my uncle died...where my grandfather won a battle...where my mother was a ward when she was my age..."

It seemed like a sad thing, but it wasn't really sad for you. The maps served you like a history book. You'd always had a head for remembering stories, and it was all because you felt too trapped there, too lonely. You enjoyed visits to the castle, something the others hated, for even the dullest Lord had an anecdote about someone in your family. However, if the Targaryen children wanted to know something about their family, all they had to do was open any history book.

"It's very nice, really, though I think I'd go mad if I used your method." Luke tried to lighten up a bit the turn the conversation seemed about to take.

"Right, I think the simplest thing to do is for us to decorate our own map." You suggested.

"I don't have enough inks to make a nice map."

"I do!"

Luke had to follow you at a quickened pace, even though he was even slightly taller than you, your enthusiasm to show him your full artistic arsenal outweighed physics. You let him into your rooms, where he hadn't been for many years, and he was surprised to see that it was more cluttered than he expected. There were piles of books in every nook and cranny, many open and with notes on their sides. You also had a small desk in front of your balcony. When he looked out, he noticed that you overlooked the beach. It made him tender to know that he could watch you study while he trained with Jace.

The afternoon flew by as Luke decorated a map with colours assigned to houses, animals and creatures. He made trees and mountains, and you taught him to draw castles for important towns. On a thinner piece of paper, you wrote the names of all those places and Luke tried to name the points you pointed out and then you checked it by putting the paper over it. And it didn't take him long to match what he said with what it really was. He was so happy that he even gave you a hug.

From that day on, geography lessons were much more fun for Luke, as he spent more time drawing than memorising, and he showed you all the things he was doing. Jace's concentration would be thrown off by your whispering and giggling. Sometimes you would show him the annotations and drawings you had on your map, and you would have fun imagining an tracing a dragon ride.

He started helping you in Valyrian, Luke's favourite subject. And at dinners he always sat next to you, apart from Rhaena and Jace. Luke always did the talking, for he always had more to tell than you, who spent the whole day engaged in something completely alternative to what the others were doing. Day by day, he would let you feel open enough to give him your opinion on the books you were reading or telling him some childhood stories.

One of the days when Jace and Luke were training, Luke remembered that afternoon, and your little desk overlooking the beach. He stopped to look for you with his eyes, and it took him a while to find your figure, but he did. He couldn't see you clearly, but he could make out that you were leaning on your balcony, concentrating on something, with a pen in your hand.

"It would be good if you were concentrating on something, Lucerys," the older scolded him.

"Sorry, you're right...I'm really getting better though." Luke smiled mischievously at her.

"Only in geography, I'm not going to applaud your need to draw trees in the woods." Jace landed a lazy first punch, pulling Luke's gaze away from yours.

"Hey! Easy!" Luke tried to hit him back, but clearly Jace was better than him.

"Oops, sorry...I didn't remember how much of a pussy you've become since you and Y/N are the best of friends."

It was silly, but the fight that was supposed to be a rehearsal turned into something all too real, and Jace and Luke were soon fighting without swords, using shoves and fists. From a blow that Jace threw disproportionately, Luke felt part of his lower lip split. At the sight of blood, both stopped instantly.

Of course they were brought before Rhaenyra by the guard who at the time was unable to stop them. And you, who could hear all the commotion, went down to check what was going on. Both were dishevelled but only Luke was bleeding.

"I want an explanation, right now!" Rhaenyra looked furious.

"Luke is being unbearable, mother." Jace gave her a terrible look.

"It's you who can't stand to be outdone. You're always the most important." Luke accepted the water-soaked handkerchief you gave him. He let out a small whimper as he felt the sting.

"Maybe it's because I'm the heir to the throne, my education is vital. And you only know how to giggle and be a shitty student."

You couldn't take it anymore, he always used that excuse, that he had to be the best to be a good king. Luke had already confessed to you over dinner that the love and admiration he had for Jace causes him a lot of anxiety, because he felt unfit to rule something as important as Driftmark.

"That doesn't give you any right to hit him..." everyone turned to look at you, and Jace was relieved to find himself back in the same situation where you were making a fool of yourself.

"You weren't there to see it, it would be nice if you stayed out of this for once."

"I didn't do anything wrong, don't talk to me like that." You were getting that high-pitched, agitated voice again that you get when you're feeling overly nervous. Luke could see it, his hand rested on your arm gently.

"It's your fault Luke's an twat now. All you know how to do is be a pain in the ass to everyone, and now you're filling my brother's head with your bullshit."

"What's wrong with you is that you're unbearable and jealous because Baela isn't here to tell you how well you're doing everything."

"And what's wrong with you is that you're such a pain in the ass that your father put you on the first boat that offered to take you off his sight."

"Jace!" Rhaenyra snapped at him. "I command you to stop talking like that. I remember teaching you some manners, didn't I?. Apologize. Right now."

Jace gave a sigh. And with a forced smile, he focused on them both.

"Luke, I'm really sorry I hurt you, maybe I went too far, considering you're also going to spend the rest of your life next to this absolute bore and insufferable woman. It's a big sacrifice on your part."

Jace gave Luke a friendly slap on his shoulder and turned away, forgiving himself. You, on the other hand, had already started to feel the tears forming at the thought of disappearing from your father's sight. It was too delicate of a subject, and you longed for him, Jace had struck another blow too hard.

"Apologize to Y/N, Jace." Luke's voice sounded serious, demanding. Jace turned away.

"By what right are you commanding me around now?"

"I'm your brother, and Y/N will be my wife, your sister-in-law, and we'll all be a family. Show her the respect she deserves, and ask for her forgiveness."

Jace was quiet for a second. Luke's hand moved to reach for your hand and squeezed it, it was cold, but at his touch, it began to warm.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." It was dry, and it was surely not for you, but for Luke. It was still humiliating, and of course, it was you who left that room crying.

You tried to hide your tears from Luke, who was asking you not to leave, but you couldn't even come up with an excuse, you just disappeared from there.

When you didn't show up for dinner, Luke couldn't eat a single bite. Rhaenyra watched as your empty seat provoked something in him that hadn't happened before, he became quiet. Jaxe was also quiet, stressed and recovering from the scold he received from his mother after all that scene. With a nod of his head, Luke had permission to get up and look for you. Your door was open, but inside your room you were hard to find. On the floor, your back against your bed, a candle illuminated one of your maps. You tried to wipe your face a little as Luke sat down next to you.

"You're missing your favourite dessert..." he tried to get a smile out of you, he couldn't. "I'm sure Jace regrets what he said, he didn't say a single word at dinner."

"He regrets a lot of things I'm sure, but never that he spoke ill of me." You told him without so much as a glance at him.

"That's not true. There may be friction, but we're all family."

"Yeah, but I'm not in it. All I try to do is to be fair, to do the right thing. Your mother is a future queen to me, I must always tell her the truth. And none of the three of you seem to understand the great danger you are in every day..."

"I do understand that you do it for us, but soon she will be like a mother to you too." Luke held your hand.

"I miss my family so much...All I really have from them is just memories I didn't even get to live, few years with my mother... I try to love in the present but then I'm faced with this ignorace against my person.Lucerys, every day I feel this sorrow, this silence...I feel so, so lonely."

Then he understood your great passion for maps. And he suddenly felt like a tremendous idiot. I could have been there for you much earlier. But he was convinced that it was a good time to start.

"I've had dreams too...well, they were really nightmares...about being heir to Driftmark and spending my whole life alone. Jace would be here, Mother at King's Landing, Rhaena married, and everyone else would be dead...and you would be left, as always, locked in your rooms, not wanting to talk to anyone."

At last you looked at him, he too had a sad expression. His lip was split at the bottom. His eyes connected with yours.

"I'm sorry you had that impression of me...you...I actually, genuinely like you. A lot."

You watched as Luke smiled mischievously, like his mother did.

"It'll be the only thing I beat Jace at..." he finally got a laugh out of you. "Maybe, we could feel 'alone' together."

"Sounds like a good idea..."

"And we can go to sleep together, but alone." He continued to joke.

"And have lonely blonde and brunette children..." you continued.

"And sail the ocean alone..."

And in unison you both said "but together!"

At the coincidence, you burst out laughing. And more you laughed when Luke got a stitch of pain in his lip from smiling. His little scream was too funny.

"Hey...don't be mean!" he scolded you with a totally fake frown.

"Oh, my prince, I'm sorry! That wound looks bad..."

"Well, the Maester says nothing that can't be fixed with a kiss on the wound in question."

"Haha! Now I really feel sorry for you if you need a kiss from the Maester..."

"I'm afraid you're out of luck, the sages say only kisses from beautiful, blonde women, lousy with Valyrian but great readers with a strangely amusing laugh."

In that light, Luke had made you happier than you had ever imagined. He might still be a little more childish than you'd like, but it was this that made you laugh during dinners and lessons. This dedication to your could be the beginning of a fun and pleasant future, much closer than your inner child had imagined when you read those love stories in your books.

It was you who reached first, and Luke was the first to close his eyes. A tender kiss on the lips, first on his bottom lip, soft and slow, trying not to hurt him. But above was his upper lip, intact, and there you gave him another kiss, more intense, but just as sweet. And Luke pressed his lips together as hard as he could, letting himself be carried away by your soft lips brushing his. When you broke apart, he saw you blush a little, but you immediately laughed at him, who was much more flushed than you were.

"Actually...if I'm going to be your wife, you didn't have to memorise all those places. I would know them for you." You told him as you walked on your way to the kitchen, ready to dine alone with the leftovers from dinner.

"Right..." Luke led the way, holding your hand. "Although then you would never have realised how much you really like me."

[joyaphoria]

the first time you and bokuto met, you guys were ten. you had just moved to tokyo and your mom got a job at the same place bokuto's mom worked. they became friends almost instantly, and once they realized they had children the same age, a play date was set immediately.

contrary to popular belief, you guys didn't get along well at all. bokuto was a stubborn child; he wanted to be outside playing volleyball with his friends, and the idea of having to stay inside to acquaint himself with a little girl that probably didn't know a thing about the sport seemed catastrophic.

he was right after all — you didn't know (or even care) about bokuto's treasured sport, and you were just as fond of being there as he was. you'd give anything to be at home, burying your face in some mangas, or playing piano.

you fought like cats and dogs the first four years after you guys met, both at school and outside of it, since your houses were close and your families were even closer. unfortunately, keeping a distance was just never an option.

the first time you and bokuto had ever gotten along (if you could even call it that), was when you turned fifteen. bokuto was invited to your party by default, as well as everyone in your homeroom class by your mother's request, nevermind the fact that you got along with hardly any of them.

you had just finished helping yours and bokuto's mom in the kitchen with prepping the food, and made your way back to the living room to check on your guests.

you froze in place once you caught them grouping around your piano, realizing that you forgot to put away your piano books.

you've always been big in the arts, but piano was your thing. you liked to think of yourself of a composer of sorts, writing sheet music and occasionally adding a few lyrics.

you would've thought you might have learned from a similar incident a few years ago, when you caught bokuto reading through your sheet music. though he never said anything — never hinted at any emotion at all — you still ended up a sobbing mess.

this however, was very different. they were snickering and laughing, pointing at the lyrics and your 'odd penmanship', trying to make out the words on the paper. you felt the tears swelling up in your eyes already, your hands trembling as you find yourself glued in place.

before you could even blink, a familiar figure's shoving past you into the room, and you watch as bokuto snatches the sheet music from the boy holding them.

he laughs then, snickering at bokuto before looking over at you. "hey, y/n, did you write all this bull—"

there is a fist colliding with his nose in less than half a second.

all the girls shriek and shove at each other as they back away from the commotion, screaming as bokuto scrambles on top of the boy, maintaining the upper hand from the very beginning.

you watch them fight, bokuto sporting a split lip and bruised fists as his mother runs in and yanks him off of the boy, your mother rushing in behind his to assess the situation.

you're utterly confused, even more so once he turns to find your eyes, and the side of his lip quirks up into a lopsided smirk.

later once everyone leaves and situation was managed and dealt with, you find yourself staring once again, as he takes a cotton ball to his bloody lip, and runs his fists under the tap.

once he turns off the water and looks up to address you, you catch sight of that intoxicating smile yet again, and you don't even need to ask anything. bokuto can read the question right off your face.

"can't have anyone else reading the songs you write about me now, can we?"

what if i turned this into a short written series, the five years of bokuto and y/n as enemies until this happens and everything changes?

composed

[kpop-s-akura]

Like to Be You || b.cc

TEASER / Release Date: TBD

🌸Pairing: Bang Christopher Chan x fem!Reader 🌸Description: You and Chris have been dating for roughly half a year, not very long by most people's standards.

As expected in a relationship between an idol and a college student (and relationships in general), there's obstacles to overcome and things to learn, but you know you love each other very much — and love should be enough. And yet, there comes a breaking point and your and Chris' relationship hits a wall, as you two don't yet understand what it's like to be the other. 🌸Genre (s)/Content: SFW; angst; established relationship; curse words; mentions of familial issues; these will be added to and(/or) edited in the final work!

🌸Teaser Word Count: 540

🌸A/N: At the end; was too long lol

Happy reading!🖤🖤

🎶Now Playing:🎶 Like to Be You (feat. Julia Michaels) by Shawn Mendes

❀❀❀

“All right everybody, that’ll be all for today. I’ve uploaded the outline and I’ll see you all for the midterm; study hard!” The bustling of the students around me mingled with the low playing music that flowed through my earbuds — but neither did anything to distract me from the pounding headache that thumped my brain for the past day. 

Week. Month, more like it.

Ever since the professors had us start thinking about our midterms and semi-preparing for them, it’s like a fire lit under my ass and I felt it in my temples.

While I wasn’t pulling all-nighters to study (yet) and explicitly killing myself over the prospective tests (yet), I was stressed to hell in a way I couldn’t even fathom.

Was it because the school made an internal error, and now our midterms were weeks earlier than other colleges?

It’s inconvenient, but there wasn’t much I could do about it.

I mean I am in my senior year. But it wasn’t even my final midterm, I still have another in March; thank fuck the school didn’t screw up both testing dates.

Perhaps the ugly feelings of my depreciating status with my mom was still busting my back. Was I not as truly indifferent to what was going on? 

Not like I thought I was.

My mom and I disagreed on many things, including how I would continue on with my life. It made for quite the strain on our bond and my mental health for a bit.

It was upsetting, but I adapted to our new dynamics and I often try to not think about it.

There was also the situation of my full-time job, which wasn’t offering me any rest from the business of school. 

I had been working at the same department store for almost my entire college career, and I got promoted to manager status because of that.

So it wasn’t a matter of first-day (or even first-year) nervousness, it was just an adult job that gave me adult stress and adult anger.

There were many other problems going on in my life, substantial and infinitesimal, but I never once considered my relationship with Chris to be one of them.

Bang Christopher Chan. Stage name, Bangchan.

Leader of fourth generation K-pop boy group and global sensation: Stray Kids.

Never, in my wildest dreams — even the ones I had during a fever — did I imagine myself dating an idol.

While I rarely ever listened to K-pop before, I did like a couple of songs and recognized the occasional idol thanks to friends who were a part of the fandom; of which almost all were Stays.

And it’s not like Stray Kids weren’t one of the biggest names in South Korea, at the time. I could usually recognize their faces from the numerous billboards, media ads, or pictures my friends would show me.

But at first, I didn’t recognize Chris.

In the middle of the National Museum of Korea, amidst the dozens — maybe even hundreds, that day — of visitors, it’s no wonder he had his identity wrapped up so tightly.

Unfortunately, when you’re a global superstar like Chan, you’re bound to be recognized in public by one of your superfans.

And that’s how we crossed paths.

❀❀❀

🌸A/N: Happiest birthday to my dear, Channie!!!!🥳🎂🎊🎉

In America at least lol.

I wanted to post this for his birthday, but many complications happened (including, but definitely not limited to, Hurricane Helene). Even now, I'm posting this much later than I originally meant to🫠🫠🫠

Regardless, I'm happy to post this teaser for his special day instead☺️ I have no idea when this'll actually be posted, I'm crossing my fingers for it to be before the end of October, but I have much more free time to work on it as I'm on an extended break!

Happy birthday again to my special boy!🥰🫶

[solarwynd]

Fine, I'm miserable. But I asked a valid question, because I want to see better for Jimin and do better for him, and I don't care that you hate it. And I didn't "resort" to any kind of negativity; these are the questions I've been asking since mid to late 2023 when we were still streaming for Like Crazy, and I was met with the same hostility in these blogs, called an anti, a fuckass jjk cosplaying as a Jimin fan lol. It just came up again because of @tomuchabotme 's last post. I would have asked the same question had it been any other time, it has nothing to do with Jimin reaching yet another milestone today.

I get that it's dumb to let antis get under your skin, but I'm sorry that's just who I am, just as you are who you are. And they'll 100% always get to me if it's about something that makes sense to me, because unfortunately their taunts do make sense this time. Like I said, I had been asking myself the same question way before they even started mocking Jimin. Why his members, especially the one whose stans halfass his music, are able to chart more than one song, but we can't. Why Love Me Again/Friends and Seven/SNTY were simultaneously on the charts but only Like Crazy was standing when we could have put SMFPt2 right up there with her. And I thought when Who came, we'd still be able to chart both songs, but look what happened.

The title track should and always will be the priority to me when it comes to comebacks. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Not saying to neglect the rest of the album, cause for MUSE I do feel like outside of BE MINE, (and SGMB) the bsides did not get their fair chance to shine streaming effort wise because the focus was on WHO getting a huge debut. Yes it would be nice to have multiple songs continuously charting at once, but I’d rather maximize the streams the title track can get than divide amoungst bsides that realistically are not gonna last beyond a week at most anyway on global.

And all the comparisons to what Taehyung and JK stans are doing with their songs like we don’t all know both of them are being carried purely by Thailand and Vietnam. They brought 3D back to global for one day before it fell right back out and SNTY dropped out as soon as it hit 1B because it was pulling mainly from those two countries. Those two countries are dominated by people who bias Taekook. Jimin stans are in the minority. That’s why they can only give him big debuts first day, but fumble the rest of the week. Charting multiple songs at the expense of stability is not gloat worthy or worth it in general. That’s why I feel like it’s pointless use them as the standard in that aspect.

And I’m sorry, but I still will never see the reason why anybody would take antis, who stan people who can barely enter top 40 much less chart on global at all seriously about who can’t keep multiple songs charting on Spotify. These are the same people who have made it their mission to nitpick everything about Jimin’s numbers because they find joy in any kind of shortcoming or flaw that he has. They’ve been stuck on these inconsequential city charts and mls for months now. They find any way to discredit him, no matter how meaningless or nonsensical the accusation is.

I understand wanting to work towards a goal, but their taunts should not be one of the driving forces of why you’re trying to achieve it- just to shut them up. I’m not gonna call you an anti for genuinely wanting to do better for Jimin, nor do I believe you should’ve been called one. But at the same time I believe that the energy you’re expending dwelling on what antis think can be better put towards other things. These people do not matter once you close these apps.