#it's a more mature telling -- but so far no worse than what happened to the earth queen in korra

[ranger-kellyn]

decided to actually watch the last airbender and y'all...i can't lie. this is a gorgeous show

[trashytracktales]

Poking the bear | OB⁸⁷

🧸 summary ──── They say poking the bear never ends well, but after Ollie’s incident at the Brazilian Grand Prix, both him and his girlfriend find out that silence hurts more than anger.

🧸 pairing ──── Oliver Bearman x she/her reader

🧸 rating ──── mature

🧸 warnings ──── 16+, angst, emotional distress, description of racing incidents, passive-aggressive arguments, guilt and vulnerability, implied sexual content.

🧸 word count ──── 3k

🧸 date ──── May 28, 2025

🧸 a/n ──── Had this idea tap dancing in my head since Brazil 2024. It came back in my dream last night. I cleared my schedule so I can write a quickie. Enjoy 💋

📍 São Paulo Grand Prix, 2024

“OFF THE ROAD into the tarmac runoff for Oliver Bearman!” the commentator’s voice cuts sharp through the rain static on the broadcast.

It’s Sunday at Interlagos, and the weather tests everybody’s nerves. The skies are heavy and grey, brooding with thunderclouds that haven’t stopped spilling for hours. The asphalt has a darker shade, smoother, but far from forgiving; it offers little grip and even less predictability. Where there should be confidence in traction, there’s second-guessing and white-knuckled steering.

On-screen, the Haas is already facing the wrong direction, half-stranded in the runoff at Turn 10, its tires carving muddy streaks through the damp tarmac. With worn inters and a gust of crosswind hitting off the Senna S complex, it just snapped under braking, enough to slide, to lock up, to go straight off and miss the corner entirely.

Because that’s what rain does: punishes the smallest errors. And the lack of experience becomes a cure rather than an excuse.

Inside the cockpit, Oliver’s first reaction is confusion, his brain trying to make sense of what just happened. All it took was a fraction of a second, and the car pirouetted like it had a mind of its own. His heart jumps into his throat in an instant and, luckily, the young driver manages to keep it out of the wall, just barely. As the adrenaline fades, disappointment crashes in like a wave, forcing him to grip the steering wheel, only to give him the impression that he’s still got something to hold on to.

In the garage, the helplessness of his error settles into her chest. “No,” she breathes sharply, hand flying to her mouth instinctively.

The camera shifts from the replay of the spin to her. She’s standing by the monitors, arms crossed so tightly around herself now that it looks like she’s holding herself together by force. Her eyes are wide, and she is visibly horrified. She doesn’t blink as she stares at the screen, like if she looks away, something worse than that might happen.

Next to her, Oliver’s father reaches out gently, placing a comforting arm around her shoulder. His voice is calm, as he tells her something that the cameras aren’t able to pick up, but she nods stiffly, agreeing with the man, even though her body doesn’t seem to relax one bit. She’s not the kind to show her panic so publicly, never was. However, everything happened too fast for her mind to process, and now her nails are digging little crescents moons into her arms, and the camera captures it all.

She’s aware that the world is watching — she feels like throwing up the second she sees herself on the monitor — but at this point it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is her Ollie.

As if summoned, his radio is displayed next in the right-hand corner of the screen.

“I’m such an idiot, man,” his voice comes through strained, full of self-loathing. For a little while, there is no response from Slade. Just the deafening static, his heavy breathing, and the weight of his disappointment that hangs between the words.

That’s what breaks her the most, not the spin. Not the fact that he lost so much ground or that he deprived the team of a potential finish in the points. Hearing him so defeated and unforgiving of himself, like he’s not allowed a single mistake in the same conditions where even the most experienced drivers are put to the test, it’s impossible for her to make peace with.

What’s worse is that she knows there are hours that separate her from him after the race is over, and she won’t be able to beat some sense into his pretty head that will for sure overthink every single second of his mistakes.

Two and a half, to be exact, when she finally sees him from the Haas hospitality. His shoulders are hunched, head slightly down, and though there are cameras following him, there’s nothing urgent in his steps, just exhaustion.

He knows he’s about to lose them when he enters the building anyway, but right before he can do so, Ollie hears his name. His team principal intercepts him just a few paces from the door, and the cameras shift and pivot like vultures drawn to movement; a few journalists still hang around, hoping for scraps of reaction.

The girl catches everything, her heart reducing to atoms when she sees her boyfriend suddenly so tense. She wants to run to him, to put herself between him and the noise, like Belle stepping in front of the Beast when the village came with pitchforks. She wants to shield him and tell them all to fuck off. But she can’t. Not without tarnishing his reputation, anyway.

“We talked about just keeping it on the track,” Ayao reminds him, and even though the man’s tone isn’t quite accusing, there is a hint of scolding behind his voice. “That’s what you had to do today.”

Oliver doesn’t speak, just nods once. Tight. Only to show his boss that he understands, he gets the message, but has nothing else to add. Not now, at least. Unfortunately, like it or not, his body language talks for him: it tells them he wants out of the conversation, away from the cameras, away from the moment he keeps replaying in his head.

At this point, he is just embarrassed. He doesn’t smile, and doesn’t give a quote. Just turns, opens the door, and finally disappears into the hospitality unit.

She’s catching sight of him right before he disappears down the corridor toward the driver’s room. His steps falter slightly when he hears her behind, and he glances back over his shoulder, waiting with his palm around the door knob.

When their eyes meet, he’s still silent. It’s as if he has lost the right to words, as if they can’t describe what he’s going through now anyway, so he chooses not to give them any power.

“I’m okay,” he says at last, his voice sounding mechanical, like he’s just repeating the same lie he told everyone until he got to her.

It makes her stomach twist.

She exhales a shaky breath, steps closer to reach up and touch the side of his face, ignoring the dampness in his curls. Or the fact that he just flinched at her gesture.

“Ol…”

He doesn’t look at her when he adds, “I just need a minute, okay?”

She nods, even though he’s not looking. “Right,” she says, her heart breaking a little at the way he’s pushing her away. “But is that all? Just a minute?”

For a moment, he looks like he wants to turn around and just let her fix whatever it is that needs to be fixed. It’s not as if she didn’t do that before. For him. But this time is different; everybody saw. He can’t physically move. Just stands there, hand still on the doorknob, his back still facing her.

“Can you just wait in the car?” asks Oliver as he opens the door, then disappears inside without waiting for her answer.

SHE FIGURES THE room is way too quiet the second she steps out of the hotel bathroom, towel wrapped around her body. The lights are turned off, and there’s just a tiny lamp on the bedside table that casts some of its poor rays across the walls.

Oliver sits up in bed, back against the headboard, eyes tracking her silently; he watches her as she moves around the room in silence, going through her routine like muscle memory. Moisturizer. Hairbrush. Towel switched for one of his old Ferrari Driver Academy shirts, its worn fabric hanging loose on her frame with the sleeves too long and the faded logo barely visible now. She always wears it when she’s trying to feel close to him, because that’s the first shirt he gave her back when they started dating.

And he knows that.

Even though they’re about to share a bed, they are currently miles apart.

He wants to tell her that he is still present, because he notices how, in her routine, she’s not leaving space for him anymore. But she keeps going, unbothered, plugging in the blowdryer and flicking the switch on. The low hum fills the room the next second, and it makes Oliver close his eyes at the noise, like it breaks whatever opportunity to speak he’s had left.

Her reflection in the mirror doesn’t look at him. Not even a glance. And it hits him once again, the same sick twist in his gut from earlier, when he just sent her away. He didn’t mean to, but he needed to be alone for his own sanity.

Looking back, Oliver realizes how wrong and heartless he was towards her, the only person in the entire paddock who didn’t deserve that treatment from him. He hates himself for it, and that’s one of the reasons why he desperately wants to at least try to get inside her head. To snuggle there and apologize until they fall asleep and forget that today existed in the first place.

But it would be too easy that way.

When the blowdryer clicks off, the room falls into silence again. Until he finds the strength to finally speak.

“Can you stop ignoring me, please?” asks Ollie, his voice breaking through, rougher than he intends. “I’m sorry.”

She’s still in her own world, avoiding to look at him. Just hangs the dryer on the hook and smooths her shirt down over her legs.

“For what?” she asks with a calm in her voice that sends shivers down his spine. “You didn’t do anything.”

Ollie narrows his eyes. “Come on, now. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pretend.”

“I’m not pretending,” she shrugs, walking to her side of the bed and pulling back the covers to slip under them. “I just want to sleep, Oliver. We have a ten-hour flight tomorrow.”

His full name sounds unfamiliar in her mouth. It makes his face twist in disgust, physically cringe, because it’s so wrong coming from her. Too distant.

“So that’s it?”

She shrugs again. “I’m just tired. That okay with you?”

He lets out an unamused chuckle. “No, actually, it’s not,” he snaps, sitting up straighter. “I am just trying to apologize so we can move past this.”

She turns her head toward him then, finally meeting his eyes. There’s no heat in hers, just quiet exhaustion. “Well, I waited in that car like a neglected dog for forty minutes, Ollie. After waiting for you to come back from the media pen. And after sitting through two hours of a race that never seemed to end. Respectfully, you can take your apology and shove it deep down your—”

“Baby, I’m sorry,” Oliver cuts her off. “I’m so bad at this, I know. But I’m sorry,” he insists. He runs a hand through his curls, eyes closing for a moment, enough to try to put his thoughts in order. When he opens them again, she’s already turned onto her side, facing away. “I just… I didn’t want to dump it on you, alright?”

Her brow furrows, and wants to ask him what he means by that. But then she feels the bed shifting slightly, and his arm slides around her waist, hesitant, like he’s unsure if he’s still allowed to touch her. Then firmer, Ollie pulls her back into him until there’s no space left. His body curls around hers, big and warm and familiar, as his face finds the curve of her neck, his nose pressing into her hair like he needs to just breathe her in, in order for everything to be right again.

He tangles their legs together beneath the sheets, his hold tight, too afraid she’ll slip through his fingers if he’d give her the chance.

“Don’t ignore me, darling,” whispers Ollie. “Please.”

Her heart starts racing at the sound of his mellow voice. She loves it and hates it at the same time, that a single word has the power to melt her so quickly.

His hand slips beneath the hem of the shirt, until his fingers find the warmth of her bare skin. They brush gently over her stomach, covering it completely, a soothing touch in the midst of desperation. It sends a jolt straight through her chest, and her heart stutters against her ribs once again, every nerve suddenly wide awake, hyperaware of the way his fingertips trace lazy, featherlight patterns like he’s playing the piano.

“I saw your face on the replay,” he finally explains with a defeated exhale. “You looked like the ground had just been ripped out from under you, and I am…” he pauses, swallows hard, then continues, “I’m supposed to protect you from that. From feeling like that.”

As if an arrow passes through her heart, she closes her eyes and just waits for it to go through to the other side, hoping that it will do as little damage as possible.

“I’m the one in the car,” says Ollie. “I signed up for this. I don’t care about the risks, because I chose them. But you didn’t. You chose me. And seeing you like that, like you’d just watched something awful happen and couldn’t do anything… Yeah, I don’t know how to handle that yet.”

She stiffens slightly in his arms, her fingers tightening around the edge of the blanket.

Oliver presses a kiss into the back of her shoulder. “I’ve been trying so hard to keep things normal between us. Same as before it got official, you know? Same stupid routines. But this is already changing things. Doesn’t it?” he asks, leaning in again to brush his lips over the curve of her shoulder.

She’s about to reply when she feels the tender heat of his tongue as he presses another kiss, on her neck this time. Her eyes sting, tears welling despite herself, and she turns in his arms, unable to keep her indifference intact. Her hands wrap around his torso, clutching him tightly, burying her face in his chest like she needs to feel every heartbeat to believe he’s here.

“I hate that you’re going to worry about me now,” he keeps going, as if his words have just returned from a long vacation, and he really needs to tell her everything. “Like, really worry. Not ‘what if his car breaks’ worry, but ‘what if he doesn’t come back in one piece’ worry. And I get it, because if this job ever made you regret being with me—”

She cuts him off before she even gets the chance to think of how to assure him best. “Ollie,” she breathes, shaking her head as her fingers press lightly against his chest. “That’s never going to happen. I could never regret you,” her voice is steady, in contrast with how fast her heart’s still beating. “I know what comes with loving you. And yeah, it scares me sometimes. But that doesn’t mean I’d ever walk away because of it. All you can do is be the best you can every time you’re in that car. That’s all anyone can ask of you, including Ayao. Including your team. And including me.”

He’s quiet, his eyes searching hers like he’s still not sure he deserves to hear that. But she doesn’t waver.

Instead, she reaches up, fingers threading gently through his curls, brushing them back from his forehead, her touch delicate. “I’m proud of you, my little cub. Not just when you get it right. If anything, it was pretty impressive what you did today.”

His eyes close for a second, her words settling into the cracks he’s been trying to hide all day. When he opens them again, they’re glassy and full of shame. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “For shutting you out. I didn’t mean to.”

She doesn’t need to say it. It’s in the way she leans in, closing the distance between them as her lips meet his, like they’ve both been holding their breath for too long.

As they kiss, his hand moves instinctively, sliding down her side until it finds her thigh. With one gentle motion, he lifts her leg over his hip, needing her closer than close. Her body pressed against his gives purpose a whole new meaning, the tension in his shoulders finally softening under her touch.

When they part, she studies him. His face is pale under the soft light, freckles stark against the skin that’s still slightly flushed from the day. His eyes are rimmed in exhaustion, but there’s something else beneath them that makes him look even younger than he is.

“By the way, just so we’re clear,” she begins, “I don’t need you to protect me, Ollie. I just need you to talk to me. Like we always do.”

He smiles now, brushing the tip of his nose against hers. “Can I now?”

As a response, she shakes her head, eyes dark with desire. “Nope, you missed that train, I’m afraid. I have other plans for that big mouth of yours,” she whispers, her voice laced with all the love that’s been hanging by a thread today.

She kisses him again, deeper this time, her hands sliding up his chest, fingers curling around his shoulders as she guides him, rolling them gently until he’s above her. Then, with a push, she urges him down, beneath the covers and between her legs, where her need for closeness matches his.

Oliver lets out a breath of a laugh, eyes never leaving hers as he disappears beneath the sheets. His hands glide along her thighs, parting them slowly, his smirk lingering as their eyes lock one last time before the world narrows to just the two of them.

And for the first time today, he doesn’t feel like he’s spinning out. Shame turns to lust. Exhaustion to hunger. His breath ghosts over her smooth skin, leaving goosebumps behind while savoring her quiet whimpers.

Impatient, she lifts her hips slightly, nudging his shoulder with her knee, “Keep taking your sweet time, and I’ll poke the damn bear if it gets him to move.”

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ MASTERLIST . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2025

[junglejim4322]

There was a certain point in my teenage years where I decided if I really felt something I’d be honest and sincere no matter what and if I really wanted something id try for it no matter what because rejection and failure are nothing in comparison to regretting and wondering what could’ve happened the rest of your life. However I was just a kid and didn’t really have the knowledge to always use this mindset in a meaningful way so it didn’t get me as far as it COULD have as a more mature person and STILL it got me insanely far like the relationships and skills and advancements that happened just from telling everyone how I sincerely felt and trying everything I wanted to do was insane.. man I’ve let myself lose track and fear has held me back sometimes but at the end of the day really WHAT momentary fail could be worse than wondering what could’ve happened if you’d taken action the rest of your life. All of this is to say: yolo

[bernardsbendystraws]

Fresh Air

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Check out my pinned post for more of my writing.

00 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 FINAL

Summary: One night at a party seems to change everything. A strange man with a friendly smile and a sleeve of patchwork tattoos seems to make you feel at home for a change. You're finally happy to have made a good friend to lean on - especially when it comes to your not-so-great relationship with your boyfriend. But what happens if you lean too much...what happens if you fall?

Warnings: 18+. This series contains mature themes, read at your own risk. (SMUT, angst, parental troubles, financial hardships, and more. Don't like, don't read.) This warning is made for all parts.

A/N: To be added to the taglist, send a request in my inbox or comment on the pinned post. I'm far more likely to see requests sent to my inbox.

With love and big tits, Rose.

09: Cum and go.

wc: 1500+

I could feel his eyes on me. The hot flashes of the camera didn’t feel as electric as his stare. It was pitiful, really. I found myself losing focus, constantly looking around to find his shadow walking around. And it always seemed to be so close. 

He didn’t have to be here. Matt had no obligation to stay for anything, but he did. It was because he wanted to be there for his brother and I knew that, but I couldn’t help but wonder if I played a part too. 

“Do you need a break?” Danny asks from behind the camera. Her management voice seems to soften with the question - the same question she had asked me at least four times now, but I just couldn’t seem to be just a puppet for once. My smile kept falling, my eyes kept trailing wondrously. 

Shaking my head, I bite on my inner cheek, trying to peel my attention away from the racing thoughts and back to the shoot. 

I wish he didn’t affect me so much. Even freshly out of a relationship, I didn’t even think about Hayden this much. In fact, I had rarely thought about Hayden at all. Just a taste of bitter regret when his name floated into my mind. 

A couple more snapshots and the photographer finally calls it good. I walk over to my stuff, gathering everything back into my bag before flinging it over my shoulder. My body just feels sore. Random aches and pains were multiplying, a lack of sleep starting to catch up to me both physically and mentally. 

The hiss leaving my mouth from the sharp sting is barely audible, I look around to take one last look, my eyes landing on him, Matt. And he’s staring right back at me. 

Concern is plastered on his face. I don’t bother trying to look anymore, brushing past a small crowd of people and trying to get to the door. It’s a morning shoot, it’s barely noon and I’m exhausted. 

Grabbing the handle to the door, my heart drops as I hear fast footsteps run up from behind me. 

“Wait -,” 

Turning around, I come face to face with Matt. A reeling weight of guilt pummels down as I feel the urge to launch myself into his arms. 

Why do I still feel like this? 

Shouldn’t it be… different? 

“Are you,” he pants, rubbing his hand over his face, “-are you okay?” 

Am I okay?

No, but telling him would only make things worse. 

“I’m okay.” I state shortly. 

Matt’s eyebrows furrow, his hand reaching up and scratching behind his neck. “I, um - do you wanna…can we maybe -,” 

“Not today. Sorry,” I spit out, rushing my words painfully as I turn and walk out the door. 

Waves of air fill my lungs. My chest gets heavier, each step feeling more forced as I further the distance between myself and Matt. 

I want to be with him. Today, tomorrow, and everyday. But, I shouldn’t, I shouldn’t want to be with the person who I cheated on someone with. That would only end in disaster - a disaster bigger than the one already in place. 

My feet stumble to a stop on the pavement. Should I turn around? Manon was a good friend, I loved her, but she didn’t give me the feeling he did. Nobody did. 

Maybe no one ever would. 

“Hey,” I feel his hand on my shoulder, Matt’s hand. I don’t have to turn around or look over my shoulder to know it’s him, the wave of comfort from the heat of his touch lets me know, something relaxing deep inside of me tells me it’s him. 

“We shouldn’t be talking, Matt-,” 

“Then let’s not talk. But I’m your friend. I know when you’re not okay, we don’t have to talk, but I’m not gonna let you be alone while you’re going through something.” 

His words slip through every crack of the wall I had been mentally building. I just can’t stay away, I can’t resist him. The feeling I get while being around him is something irreplaceable. I was addicted to the heat of his touch, the comfort of his words, and the way he made everything feel so… light. 

No words. I simply nod, letting him guide me by pulling my elbow, opening the passenger door of his car. 

Sitting down, I stare up at him. “Don’t you wanna stay for Nick?” I ask. 

Matt shakes his head. “I didn’t come for Nick.”

He buckles my seatbelt across my body, his hand lingering on my knee for a brief moment before he stands up and softly shuts the door. 

He didn’t come for Nick. 

He came for me. 

___

Silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward. Not even in the slightest. Matt had given me a change of clothes, one of his baggy T-shirts and a pair of our matching pj pants, the pj pants. 

The ones that had led to this disaster. 

What really happened? 

We lay on his bed, a foot of empty room between us as we stare at the TV mounted on his wall, playing reruns of shows. My body seems to ache, trying to maneuver closer to him each time I shift myself in the bed. I don’t even realize it until I feel our knees touch. 

“Do you…can…” He stutters over his words. I let myself curl under his arm, laying on his chest and nuzzling my cheek against his soft shirt. Matt stiffens. His body slowly falls back limp, his hand hesitantly starting to rub my shoulder as he pulls me in closer. 

It feels so peaceful, so calming. The lack of sleep seems to catch up with me quickly, my eyes feeling heavy as I let my lips start to speak the words balancing on the tip of my tongue for what felt like ages. 

“What happened that night?” I question. 

Matt goes rigid. He clears his throat, taking a deep breath. I can hear his heartbeat quicken. 

“I, uh, I -,”

“I won’t be mad,” I cut off. “I just want to know.” 

The drum of his heart seems to calm slightly. His hand starts to tangle with the ends of my hair, nervously fidgeting with it as he clears his throat once again.

“I’m…I’m sorry. I had a dream and I never meant to make you uncomfortable - all I know is that I woke up with um…I just - I changed pants and I hoped you didn’t notice. I’m so sorry, I never meant to make you uncomfortable -,” 

“You didn’t.” 

The interruption makes his ramble of words come to a halt. His fingers stop fiddling with my hair. I feel him move, looking down at me as I stare back up at him from the uncomfortable position. 

I lay back down on his chest comfortably, my hand gliding over his chest, feeling the soft material of his shirt. “I woke up. It…it wasn’t very long, but…I didn’t want you to stop.” 

Silence. Matt seems to process the information slowly, his heart returning to a normal beat. “You…you didn’t?” 

“No.” I say simply, sighing before peeling myself out of his embrace, laying on my back as I cover my face with my hands. “I went to talk with Hayden. I…I knew I couldn’t do it anymore, but when I went to his place, some girl answered his door.” 

Ugh. The same rush of emotions waves in like a hurricane. 

“I’m so sorr-”

“For what? That my ex boyfriend was cheating on me? I cheated on him. I don’t even have the right to be upset. I…I’m more upset with myself than him. I mean, I…I really like you and I just…I don’t think we could ever be together, it’s so… wrong.” 

Time seems to freeze. I hear his breath hitch, finally uncovering my face to see him sitting up, staring into his lap with glossy eyes. 

“...Matt?” I ask, sitting up and placing a hand on his shoulder. 

And that’s when I feel it. The slight shake of his body before a harsh cry purses through his lips. I’ve never seen Matt cry. At least not like this, it’s always been tears of laughter. I could feel every wall I had built up crumbling down, the stamina for holding some sort of restraint disappearing as I wrap my arms around him and hug him in towards my chest. 

“I - ‘m sorry. I didn’t - didn’t mean to and I -” He hiccups, grasping onto my waist for stability as he sobs into my chest, soaking the material of the shirt. 

Before I know it, a tear glides down my cheek, falling into his hair. Matt freezes, pulling himself up before staring at me sadly. “Can I just…can I just hold you? Pretend that none of this ever happened? Just…just us. Please.” 

An offer I can’t refuse. I nod, laying back down, my eyes feeling wet and heavy as Matt pulls me into his chest, his hold impossibly tight. And I know why. 

He knows he’ll have to let go. 

[pinkiemachine]

Hello! I've really enjoyed your work for a while and have a Batman question for you!

How do you feel about Maps?

I HAVE PLANS

I’m just a little nervous to share them because it ties into shipping…

But since someone in the comments asked...

Okay, so, before, during, and/or after Damian's crush on Amythest (link to that full story below) he was going to West-Reeve School and had a group of friends there, including Jon Kent (jus kidding, Jon had a friend group, and Damian just happened to be in it, lol). One of these friends was Mia, aka Maps. Now, like a lot of characters, I haven't gotten around to really truly reading up on Maps as much as I want, so there are a lot of details I'm missing from this story, but what I have so far is:

Maps was always getting caught up in adventures, intentionally or accidentally. She's a bit rambunctious, and very intelligent. For example, she wound up stumbling into a serious criminal case that Damian and Bruce were working on at the time, and she was completely oblivious (like, she was focused on this other thing at the time). Damian was with her during their trip into Metropolis' version of Crime Alley, so he had to protect her from (idk, scarecrow? riddler? whoever, I haven't gotten that far) all while trying to make sure she doesn't notice that he's doing all this karate and parkour and bending over backwards to keep the villains from hurting her. lol. BUT, actually, one day she does notice. One day she puts two and two together and realises that Damian is Robin. She doesn't confront him, though. She actually doesn't tell anyone. Quite frankly, she's a little starstruck at the idea of her classmate being ROBIN, and she doesn't know what to do with that information. She decides to simply keep his secret, for his sake. Imagine if the whole school found out, or worse, Gotham's criminals. But so, to sum up, Dami and Maps are good friends, nothing more.

Eventually, Damian gets kicked out of West-Reeve and starts going to Gotham Academy. Which means he and Maps part ways.

We are now in the depths of high school. I know. Ew. During this time, Damian meets and begins dating Nika, aka Flatline. They have a very exciting, very fun relationship, forged in the heat of youthful passion! Aka, it's cute. But, as time goes on, some of their flaws start cropping up. Like the fact that Damian is beginning to understand what a terrible thing death and killing are, while Nika is actively fascinated by death--drawn to it. She also looks up to Damian's mom for her awesome assassin skills. Also, it begins to become clear that while they do like one another and have fun together, there's not much more to it than that. Nika and Damian both have a hard time communicating their feelings, but after a year of being together, Damian is beginning to want to take the next step, and... Nika isn't.

Valentine's Day. Damian and Nika's first. All of Damian's bat-sibs have been in his ear about how to plan the perfect date--where to go, what to eat, what to wear--they will not shut up about it. In the end, he goes to the trouble of planning out an elaborate date and feels rather proud of himself. He waits at the table for Nika to arrive--since they had agreed to meet at the restaurant--but... she doesn't show. He waits a little longer... he texts her... she still doesn't come and doesn't text. And now he's starting to just feel depressed. He put in a lot of hard work, and she's ghosting him? Why? She's never done that before. It begins to rain outside.

While he's sitting alone at the table, who should approach him but Maps herself, a little older now, and a little more mature. She and her parents are in town for some business stuff her dad's doing and when she spots Damian--out of the manor, alone in the restaurant--she just has to stop and say 'hi.' Well, she ends up saying a lot more than just 'hi.' Damian is happy to see an old friend, and they start talking... and talking some more... there in the cozy restaurant while the rain patters against the windows. Damian is smiling. And laughing. She is too. Then Damian offers to walk Maps home, and they talk a little longer, not wanting the night to end. It's only when they're waving goodbye, and Damian watches that big smile spread across her face and feels his cheeks growing warm that he gets this sinking feeling.

He goes to Dick's house at once, seeking council. It doesn't matter that it's midnight and he's got a baby now, Damian needs to know what just happened and what to do about it. So, tired but sympathetic, Dick lets him in and they talk about the events of the evening. Dick reaffirms what Maps said, "Maybe there's a good reason why Nika didn't show" and that there's no reason to panic. Just take this one day at a time. Nothing truly bad or irreversable has happened yet.

So Damian goes and finds Nika, asking why she flaked on their date, and she says it was an honest mistake. Something (plot) related came up and she forgot to tell Damian that she wouldn't be available anymore. Whoops. So crisis averted. Damian convinces himself that the night with Maps was just two old friends catching up--his relationship with Flatline is fine--and there's nothing to worry about.

Just kidding.

Nika has a few more little incidents after this, like flaking again, or showing up when she wasn't expected (often at inconvenient times) Damian keeps getting frustrated with her, not just because of her seemingly immature behaviour, but also (as stated before) there doesn't seem to be anything truly substancial holding the relationship together besides some rather surface-level things, and Nika is intentionally trying to keep it that way. Eventually, they have a fight where Damian confronts her on this. He just wants to know the real her, he doesn't want just a "fun" relationship. Nika, however, still feels like she isn't ready, and she deflects. She falls back on old habits, she ignores, she retaliates, she tries to make things stay the way they were before, but Damian has outgrown that.

The fight ends bad. They try to make up after, but they have another fight a while later... and then, in a twist, it's Nika who breaks off the relationship. Maybe they could have worked, but... not right now.

When Maps shows up again, it's not as a rebound, don't worry. She shows up as a friend. She's there to console Damian, nothing more. She feels partially responsible for all of this, actually, and regrets any part she played in it, but Damian assures her that this was a long time coming and wasn't her fault. During her visits, they end up talking more, completely just by chance. No pressure, no elaborate dates, just two friends talking. Once Damian is moving on and getting back into his old groove, (aka a brief timeskip) he decides to call up Maps and asks if she would like to hangout.

Not sure how fast I want things to move, or what kinds of challenges they will face as a couple, all I know is... Maps is a serious contender for the title of Mrs. Damian Wayne. I'll leave it at that.

Your thoughts?

Oh, previous stuff about Dami's love life here:

[foreverromanticising]

renegade | ln4

(3) a minor confession has lando rethinking his choices and, again, ends with you back in his bed

lando norris x fem!reader | 2.1k words | a perfect summer with lando norris

masterlist<3

To ask you to play twenty questions with him on the drive over to your hostel would be a total and utter cliche of Lando, so he never phrased it as playing twenty questions. Instead, he suggested the two of you simply get to know one another - a far more mature approach, he thought so.

And so, he soon learned that you had two cats back home, got straight As when you were in school, and that you had never had a boyfriend. Two of those facts made sense to him, however one did not.

“So like, never? Never never?” He tried to keep his eyes on the famously twisting roads of Greece but he couldn’t help looking over at you in pure shock. You had to be lying to him, surely? “Not even for, like, a few weeks in school? Something stupid?”

“Yes, Lando, I’ve like never never had a boyfriend,” It wasn’t that you weren’t used to this reaction from people whenever you revealed this, it was expected of anyone to have hit this minor milestone in life by their early twenties. But you weren’t so sure why Lando seemed so shocked, he had only met you a mere 12 hours ago. “I don’t know how else to say to make you believe it.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, like yeah, you’re telling the truth. I just can’t get why - do you just not, like, want a boyfriend?” Lando was sure that if he had become - only slightly - enthralled by you in such little time then he was certain back in your hometown must have felt the same way. 

“No, I did, for a while,” You shrugged your shoulders and averted his gaze, looking out at the sea front instead. “But, I mean, guys say one thing to you and do the other. Y’know, make you believe what you want to believe instead of what’s actually happening in front you. I just- I don’t want to be stupid again, I’d rather just be myself.”

A beat passed and Lando never said anything, instead he simply pulled into a parking spot across from your hostel.

“Sorry, I dunno why I’m telling you all this - I don’t even know you, really,” You rambled off apologies, embarassment suddenly flushing your face. “You don’t want to hear about my boy troubles.” You quickly jumped out of Lando’s car before he could get a word in as you hoped to escape any further embarassment.

He sat perplexed, to say the least. Truly, Lando hadn’t meant to make you feel embarassed for telling him, for revealing a part of yourself to him, and he realised he should’ve changed his reaction ever so slightly. You didn’t need to be made to feel any worse for this than he was sure other people had already made you feel. 

It was a quick ten minutes before you had your way back to his car, backpack slung over your shoulders as you slumped back into Lando’s passenger seat.

“Look, I’m sorry for making you feel-”

“I shouldn’t have unloaded all of that-”

You both spoke at the same time, not allowing another moment of silence to float throughout Lando’s car before you huffed out a laugh, realisation of how absurd this entire situation was finally hitting you. Then, Lando finally spoke up again.

“I asked you because I wanna get to know you, you don’t need to feel embarassed or whatever,” He was never the most articulate but Lando wanted to make you feel comfortable, he didn’t want you to feel anywhere near humiliated in his car nevermind because of him. “I wanna hear what you have to say, and not because I’m like prying, but ‘cause I think you’re cool. And I think it’s really cool you’ve never had a boyfriend, I’ve had nothing but horrible reviews from old girlfriends so I don’t think you’re missing out on too much.” 

Your time outside of the car had given Lando time to think about your words, about how you had described your experiences with guys in the past. He was sure that how you felt about whoever you were referring to was exactly how girls from his past would describe him, and he wasn’t one to be proud of that. Instead, a pang of guilt rang through his chest.

“If it’s any consolation, in the time I’ve known you, I’d be forced to give you a glowing review.” You weren’t sure you wanted to know about Lando’s exes, whoever they were, because you weren’t sure that it mattered to you.

The Lando you knew had been nothing but considerate and kind, and you wanted to keep it that way. You didn’t know what this was between the two of you, but you knew that you didn’t want to taint it - even if it were to end that night, you wanted to leave with a happy memory of Lando.

“Yeah, I’m sure they all said that the first night too then they changed their mind once they got to know me.” Lando laughed, his words light and he didn’t pay much thought to them as he drove away from the hostel.

However, before you could open your mouth to comment on them, he changed the topic. Sure, you could open up to him but he wasn’t sure he wanted to open up his soul, not just yet. He liked knowing you had a positive perception of him in your mind.

“And a backpack, really? You’ve been travelling for how long and all you’ve got is that tiny bag?” He shook his head as he looked at the regular sized backpack in your lap, it looked no different to a backpack someone would take to school rather than a professional backpackers bag. “There can’t be more than five outfits in there.”

“Seven actually, one for each day of the week and then pyjamas - that’s all I need,” You were quick to correct him, a grin stretching over your lips as you proved him wrong. “You ever heard of a washing machine, Lan?”

“Yeah, ‘course, what’d you take me for?” He scoffed and continued driving, though with no particular destination in mind. “I’m just saying, surely, you’d want some difference in your life.”

“I’m not exactly getting the excitement in my life from my clothes, I dunno about you.”

“And where are you getting that excitement from, hm?” Lando’s hand made its way from the steering wheel to your thigh, pushing up the material of his basketball shorts and giving your skin a subtle squeeze - his eyes flicking over to the faint marks from his nips and bites the night before, a smirk making its way onto his lips.

“Travelling’s nice, y’know, seeing cultures and places really excites me,” You knew exactly what Lando wanted to hear but it was fun to play with him, even the in the smallest ways. “Just really gets me going, Lan.” Your voice dropped slightly, purposefully trying to sound airy and light as you felt Lando’s grip on your thigh tighten as you batted your eyelashes at him.

“Yeah, just the different places, what about what’s in the places?” He wanted to hear you say it, to say he excited you - to say you had had just as much fun as he had the night before.

“You’re not too bad, I suppose,” You shrugged your shoulders and let out a laugh whilst he pinched your bare skin, swatting his hand away. “Travelling is cool, though, it’s exactly what I wanted it to be.”

“And what was that?”

“It’s stupid but I wanted to get out of what I thought I wanted - uni, a boyfriend, a normal job. I didn’t want the same life as all my friends from school, I wanted something else,” You absentmindedly slipped your fingers through Lando’s, still on your thigh, as though it was the most normal thing in the world - and he didn’t think twice about it. “I took a gap year, and then another, and here I am.”

“What’d you do with your gap years?” Lando wanted to hear you keep talking, glad you felt more comfortable that what you first did when you had started opening up.

“Worked, like, a lot - I knew I wanted to travel for a while so I knew I’d need to afford it somehow,” You grimaced at the thought of your time back at work, the gruesome reality that was retail haunting you even across the globe. “Money’s not ran out yet so I did something right.”

“How long do you think you can make it work ‘till you need to head back home?” Lando was in awe of your dedication to travelling, that familiar pang of guilt hitting him once again - you had worked for years for trips he could simply decide on a whim if he wanted to go on. The sudden realisation of how different the worlds you had come from had dawned upon him.

“Depends how I’m living, I could make it stretch for at least another few weeks,” You shrugged and really thought about it, a few less nights out and meals out and you would be able to stay afloat for a few more countries. “Hostels are cheap which is good, it’s just the people you end up living with that make me wonder if it’s really worth it- shit, I need to figure out a hostel for tonight.”

Suddenly, you were reminded of your lack of a place to stay. You were meant to be on a boat as you spoke to Lando, sat in his car, with his ringed hand sitting pretty on your thigh and instead you were left with nowhere to go ‘home’ that night. You hadn’t exactly thought this far ahead but who could blame you? You couldn’t be expected to think properly when you had Lando’s curly head between your thighs as he offered up his bed for the night. Now, that night had passed and you were left stranded, in a sense.

“Don’t be daft, pretty,” Lando laughed at the absurdness of your words, shocked that you would even think you’d have to search for a place to stay that wasn’t his bed. “Stay with me tonight, my bed’s sat patiently waiting for you to come back. Dunno if last night was enough for me, if I’m honest.”

“Lan, I really appreciate the offer but I couldn’t possibly just waltz back into your villa like it’s nothing,” You heart swelled and your cheeks flushed with Lando’s words but you didn’t want to intrude in his villa, never mind on his holiday. “And, like, the whole point of travelling is to travel - you don’t really spend a lot of time in one place, I’m meant to keep moving.”

“I can keep you moving, that’s for sure.” 

“Lando!”

“No, but I’m serious, baby,” He laughed as you dropped his hand and swatted his shoulder, trying to dodge your light hits. “I’m sure you can spare a night or two here, and it’s not waltzing if I invite you into my villa - I want you there.”

“I don’t know, your friends are there too, I wouldn’t want to make them feel uncomfortable by staying there.” You could feel yourself warming up to Lando’s offer, toying with the idea in your mind but you couldn’t help but think of the cons of the situation too.

“They won’t bat an eyelid, don’t worry about it.” Lando knew for certain that his friends wouldn’t question that he had a girl staying over, in fact they would probably expect it, but he knew they would probably think twice about the fact it was the same girl over multiple nights - that was uncommon for him.

“Mhm, that’s just what I want to hear before I agree to stay with you.” You rolled your eyes at what he was implying though you tried not to dwell on it, trying to force yourself to stay present with him.

“Please.” He wasn’t above begging you, he craved to have you back in his arms for a few more nights, if you would want that too.

“I mean, if you’re offering.” You smiled brightly and accepted his offer for a place to stay, to stay with him on his holiday for a few more days - the prospects of what was to come left you utterly cheesing beside him. Lando wasted no time in rolling up to a stop sign and leaning across the console of the car to capture your lips with his, and you could simply feel his smile through his kiss.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 11

Source for pic

Trouble 11 🔞

Word Count: 6979

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Reader in a terror-like state; Dead Animals Mentioned; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: Okay, you guys know I like to write smut, but in this story... it just felt so oddly out of place to just write a "porn" scene. So it evolved... it's something deeper. I hope it's still satisfying to read, I've put some thought in it. That being said, special warning for this chapter: NSFW - Explicit Sexual Content, MDNI.

Masterlist

“I knew you’d be here.” Zoro drawls as he enters Mihawk’s office and closes the door behind him. “The workaholic that you are.”

His captain sneers, his amber eyes never leaving the folders he has neatly scattered in front of him in a controlled chaos on his desk.

“Takes one to know one.”

Zoro glances at bloodied pair of hands in one of the photos and sighs. “Still no leads?”

“We’re nowhere close. I feel like we’re missing something crucial. If I just–”

“I think I know who he wants.”

Mihawk’s gaze finally leaves the photos and reports and settles on Zoro. His eyes widen slightly as he takes in his pupil’s dishevelled form and leans back on his office chair, entwining his hands as he crosses his legs, waiting for Zoro to continue. 

“I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I’m pretty sure.”

“Spill it out, Roronoa.”

And Zoro does. With a deep sigh, he shares his worries about how you’ve become distant, ghost-like, a shell of your former self. He shares details about the gifts you received earlier and the way you’ve been acting as if someone is watching you. He tells Mihawk that Lucci flirted with you at the yacht party and that the store clerk did too. Too many fucking coincidences.

But more importantly, he describes the bruise he saw on your wrist today. It seemed somewhat recent, but worse than that, it looked dangerous. 

“And she’s not letting me in! She keeps pushing me away when all I want to do is help! If this fucker–”

“Language.”

“...is the one doing this to her, he’s fucking deranged and needs to be fucking stopped!”

Zoro keeps pacing the office, twirling one of Mihawk’s chess pieces in his hands as he seethes and rages.

“I understand your concerns, Roronoa, but you’re far too invested in this. It’s personal for you and–”

“Damn right it’s fucking personal!”

Mihawk sighs, his index finger and thumb pressing against the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stop an oncoming headache.

“I agree with you, coincidences don’t happen like that in our line of work. But I need you to be sure. Take an emotional step back and analyse it.” Zoro opens his mouth to interject, but Mihawk rises in his chair, hands supporting his weight on the desk as he leans forward, forcing Zoro to listen. “What if the gifts were only from an admirer? What if there’s something personal in her life making her act the way she’s acting? There’s no assurance she’s being harassed by the person who’s committing these crimes.”

Zoro’s eye burns into Mihawk, and he grips the back of the chair with so much force he can hear the wood groan beneath his hands. 

“She’s not like this. She’s not herself. I know her.” Mihawk opens his mouth, but Zoro turns on his heel with a hiss. “Fine. I’ll investigate myself, and when I bring you all the fucking evidence you need, you just make sure the fucking bastard rots in jail.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t help.” Zoro stops, his hand gripping the doorknob as his jaw clenches and unclenches. “You go keep her safe. I’m calling the special squad from the city precinct. If we’re dealing with the same person, I’m sure he’s not acting alone.”

A deep exhale leaves Zoro’s lips as he closes his eye, his chest feeling lighter. You might not want his help, you might want to push him away, but he’s not giving up on you. 

Never.

He nods and turns the doorknob just as Mihawk’s phone starts ringing. Zoro’s about to leave when his captain stops him by calling his name. When he turns, Mihawk’s wrinkles are more prominent, he has a hand in the air to signal Zoro to wait and is nodding at whatever is being said to him over the line. 

With a heavy sigh and something that resembles a small grin, Mihawk bends over his desk to gather the photos and neatly stacks the folders, then locks eyes with his pupil. “The store clerk wants to have a word with us, crucial information, he’s saying.”

Crucial? Zoro’s chest tightens again. He knows it’s about you. 

“Are you coming?”

Mihawk’s question feels daunting. Obviously, he wants to go, but what about you? Are you all right? He can’t stop thinking about that damned bruise on your wrist. What if the fucker who did that to you wants to finish the job?

“Can I meet you there? I just want–”

“To make sure she’s safe?” His Captain’s tone could be perceived as teasing, if Zoro believed his Captain to actually feel any kind of emotions. “Go, Roronoa. Meet me there, or I’ll fill you in tomorrow. Dismissed.”

The knots in Zoro’s stomach finally loosen. He’ll solve this fucking case and protect you. 

He won’t let you push him away anymore.

-*-

Fear turns your insides into jelly, and your breath comes out in irregular wisps. He was in your room. He put his hand on your hair. What else could he have done– no. What else did he do?

Nausea churns your stomach, and you muffle a sob, your eyes still boring into the polaroid. Mine. That possessive scrawl summons another whimper and you rise from your bed with a start. This has to stop. 

You can't tell Zoro, but you'll talk to his captain. 

Fighting back tears, you shake your head, trying to push away the phantom sensation of his hands on your hair, and grabbing your phone and polaroid - evidence - you rush downstairs, putting on your sneakers and not bothering to dress in anything else before you bolt out the door and into your car. 

By the time you reach the police station, your cheeks feel wet and puffy from all the crying and as soon as you push open the heavy doors, your heart thrums against your chest. 

Bzzzz. 

Unknown: Wrong move, Kitten. Are you sure you want to do this? 

Yes. You have to. This has to end. 

Unknown: Telling the cops is the same as telling THE cop. I'll still hurt him. 

No. No! 

Every time you feel like you’ve found a way out, he blocks it. It’s impossible to get away from him.

The bright lights from the station force your eyes upwards, and you put your phone away with shaky hands. Searching the almost empty station only makes you more nauseous, and as a kind policewoman talks to you, you take a step back. 

“Miss? Do you need any help?”

Yes! Oh, God, you need all the help you can get. But he just said Zoro will still come out of this hurt. 

The bomb threat, the constant calls to duty, that week Zoro was called away… it all comes down to him. He can easily manipulate Zoro, and Zoro doesn't even know he's being played. 

“No. No. I'm fine, this was a mistake.”

The policewoman calls after you, but you're already halfway out the door, tears mixing with the unforgiving rain, which comes down to darken your mood. 

And then you hear him. Your lifeline, your anchor. 

Safety. 

“Trouble?”

Zoro. 

With the loudest sob you've ever released in your life, you turn back to face him. He looks worried and frazzled. Mihawk lingers by his side for a beat, saying something too low for you to hear, to which Zoro nods, then the captain leaves with a subtle nod and a worried gaze your way. Zoro sighs, his hair is already dampening from the rain as he hastens towards you.

You want to hug him. You need to feel the strength of his arms enveloping you - protecting you. Instead, you hug yourself, shivering violently both from the helplessness of it all and from the cold rain. 

Zoro releases a stubborn noise and quickly pulls you under the building and away from the rain. Then he sheds his jacket and helps shelter you with his oversized clothes. 

It's warmth. It's safety. It's protection. 

“You're shivering.” He states, his hand smoothing your disheveled hair as he takes in your appearance. You see the way his jaw clenches and the way his eyes darken. He wants answers, but you can see he doesn't want to press too hard or too fast. “I'll take you home, and we'll talk.”

“No!” Instantly, you cling to his shirt, eyes pleading with his. 

“Fuck, Trouble. Enough is enough! We will talk, and–”

“Not that… don't take me home… please.” Home is now tainted. He can get into your sanctuary, it’s not safe.

Zoro stops arguing and his hand finds yours, holding it against his chest, trying both to calm you as well as to search for answers in your panicked gaze. He finds none. “Okay. My home, then.”

Bzzzz.

You ignore the buzz and tuck the crumpled photo into the pocket near your phone, where Zoro won’t pry, even though you clearly see him struggling to keep his hands still. Once again, he’s giving you space, not pushing anything. He’s just there. 

He holds your hand as you both make a run to his car. The small distance from the station to the car has you both drenched, though your sniffles are a consequence of much more than that.

Zoro starts the car and you stay silent. Even though you tucked the photo into your pocket, its image still burns holes into your mind’s eye. The stalker is becoming bolder, there’s no telling what he’ll do next. 

You might buy another night of safety just by being next to Zoro, but does your safety bring about his demise? Just the thought has you sobbing uncontrollably again, and you hear Zoro groaning next to you.

He still doesn’t press. It’s like, in between the time you left him at the club and now, he’s made up his mind about something as he’s, somehow calmer. 

When he parks the car and you both enter his apartment, the first thing he does is take away the wet jacket from your back, hand you a dry towel and shove you in the bathroom for you to dry off. Then, when you emerge, looking small and fragile, he hands you a dry, green, oversized sweater, and you pull it over your head.

It smells like Zoro. It’s home.

You shove your clenched fist inside the pocket and store the phone and picture in the safety of the fabric.

“Thank you.” You say, softly. He nods and grabs your shivering hand, pulling you towards the couch and making you sit near a steaming cup of tea, that you know you won’t touch. You’re still too shaken, too nauseous. 

But even though you can’t tell Zoro anything about why you’re behaving the way you are, there’s still something you want to say to him. Something important. 

“Zo…”

“Yes?” He’s eager to hear all you have to say, you can tell, but what you want to tell him won’t be enough for him. But maybe it will be enough to keep the stalker tame, since you know he’s bound to be furious that you sought refuge with Zoro once more.

You sigh and clutch Zoro’s hand tighter, your eyes boring into the way his hand engulfs yours. “I– I didn’t mean any of what I said. You matter to me… a lot.”

Zoro sighs too, and you know this isn’t exactly what he wanted to hear. Then, his index finger and thumb tip your chin upwards forcing you to look at him. “I know that.” A very light chuckle leaves his lips and he leans his forehead forward to touch yours. “I know it.” He repeats and you feel his hot breath fanning against your lips.

“Still, I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t want to hurt you. I just… I just wanted…”

“To push me away?” He’s right. You don’t want to admit it, but it’s the truth. “Why? What’s gotten you so shaken up? Let me in…” Zoro’s face moves, his eye boring into yours as he hovers near your lips, they brush together, barely touching. It’s clear he doesn’t want to force anything.

But you can’t hold back anymore. You need him.

“Zoro…” Your hand squeezes his, and you angle your face. You shouldn’t do this. You shouldn’t. But… Zoro makes you feel so safe. He gives you purpose. He grounds you. And you’ve been feeling so lost and out of control lately that, just for a little bit, you want to feel like yourself. 

“Trouble…” Zoro finally leans in, taking your lips in his, and you sigh, your hand climbing to his shirt as you grip it tighter, pulling him towards you until you’re both flush. His hand travels to your nape, his fingers entwining with your hair.

And then, just as his tongue traces your lower lip, begging to deepen the connection, your phone buzzes and you know Zoro feels it too. 

You gasp when he breaks the kiss abruptly, his hand traveling to your pocket like he wants to get to the bottom of this for once, but you reach first, pulling the device out in a rush and strangling a whimper between your lips. 

It’s at this moment that everything happens in slow motion: you clasp the phone tighter to your chest, keeping it safe from Zoro’s clutches, but fail to notice as a piece of paper gets dragged behind in the motion and flutters to Zoro’s lap. Another gasp steals your breath, but you’re powerless to stop what happens next.

Zoro picks up the photo and stares at it for what seems like forever.

You shiver and whimper as Zoro’s eye darkens. His jaw clenches tight, and you can see his knuckles turning white from how tightly he’s holding the photo. “What the fuck…?” Zoro’s voice comes out rasp, thick with raw fury, and it almost seems like the temperature has dropped. 

“Zo…”

“Do you know him?” Zoro’s gaze never leaves the photo.

You whimper and shake your head. You can’t speak, you can’t tell him anything. The way you’re risking his safety just by him seeing this is already twisting your insides into impossible knots. 

“Was he the one who did that?” Zoro growls pointing to your covered wrist. This time, a buzz from your phone is answer enough for him. He lunges forward, barely giving you time to react as his hand swipes the phone from your grasp in a quick motion.

“No!” You shout, rising after him as Zoro checks the screen for the incoming messages.

“You should’ve stayed home, Kitten? I told you not to say anything to the cop?” Zoro’s gaze snaps to you and he holds out the phone, the device shakes alongside his hand. “Unlock it.”

You shake your head, frantic tears spilling down your cheeks as you feel helpless. “No, no, Zoro I can’t! He’ll hurt you!”

“Now, Trouble.” Zoro takes a step forward and his aura is so intense that you nearly shrink away from him. With a shaky hand you use your fingertip to unlock the device and slump back into the couch, unforgiving tears marring your face as ugly sobs wrack your body.

You couldn’t even keep Zoro safe.

You just had to leave the house. You couldn’t even handle him yourself.

Useless. Idiot. Coward.

Now if something happens to Zoro, how can you ever forgive yourself?

“Such a good Kitten?” Zoro paces the living room, his hand running through his damp locks as his face twists with each new text he reads. “The punishment worked? His arms around what’s mine? Hurt the cop?”

Zoro keeps growling and scrolling as you curl into a ball on the couch, raising your knees to your chest and hugging them tight. At one point you hear Zoro release a string of curses as he hits the punching bag he has hanging in the corner repeatedly. The dry thuds of his punches bring a new set of tears to your eyes.

He strides back to you with purposeful steps, showing you the phone. “How long?” You just sniff and curl further. Zoro grunts and swipes furiously, not bothering with reading anything anymore, just wanting to finally grasp the situation. “Weeks and weeks and weeks? Fuck!”

Zoro slams the phone on the coffee table so hard he might have broken the screen. Then, he kneels in front of you, taking deep steadying breaths to try and calm himself down. He sets his trembling hands on top of yours, leaning his head against your knees with a defeated groan. 

“I’m not angry at you.” He whispers. “I just can’t stand the fact that you’ve been facing this alone.” He sounds impotent, powerless, and helpless. All words you would never associate with Roronoa Zoro. And the thought that he’s feeling like this because of you churns your insides and makes your chest constrict and ache.

So you raise your head, a sniffle still making you shiver as you run your fingers through his green locks, tugging slightly until he looks at you. “I couldn’t tell you, Zoro… He–”

“He said he’d hurt me. I read.” Zoro scoffs like that is a preposterous idea, and you grimace. He needs to stop thinking he’s invincible. 

“He’s dangerous, Zo…”

“So am I.” Zoro’s smirk is as endearing as it is unhinged, but only for a small moment. Then his head slumps forward again and he lowers his hands, placing them on your calves. “I just can’t help but feel like… like I’ve failed you.”

“You didn't know.” 

“Still–”

“Zo.” You let your legs fall open to the side so you can lower your head and be face-to-face with him. As your thumb caresses soothing circles on his cheek, you cup his face. “Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault.”

Your eyes lock, and the air shifts. Zoro cups your cheek and nearly growls. “I won't let him lay one finger on you.” It sounds like a promise. 

“I know.”

Your foreheads touch and your fingers lower to grasp his wet shirt, pulling him closer. 

“You're not his!” Zoro hisses the word as if it's venomous. “He doesn't fucking own you.”

Zoro's hand grips your nape, desperation seeping through his touch, and you nod and agree, already breathless. “I know.”

“Fuck!” Zoro channels his fury into his lips and crashes them against yours. A soft mewl escapes you as you melt into the intensity of his kiss, your arms climbing and wrapping like a vice around his neck. It’s not cautious or romantic - it’s desperate and messy, clingy and demanding.

You feel Zoro's grip on your neck like a steadying pressure. Then, his other hand climbs your thighs and clasps your hip, pulling you effortlessly against him, closer to the edge of the couch. Moulding into his touch, you wrap your legs around his torso at the same time as he deepens the kiss. It starts with a soft nibble on your lower lip and evolves into him sucking on it until you grant him full access to your tongue. 

Zoro's throaty noises against your mouth are kindling to your flame, and you whimper carelessly, forgetting for a moment about the danger that surrounds you both. That's all it takes for him to hook his hands under your thighs and lift you effortlessly, never breaking your hungered kiss as he stumbles blindly towards his bedroom. 

You need him. 

You desperately need him. 

Your fingers travel to the hem of his shirt, and you tug harshly, as if the clothing item has personally offended you just by existing. You both gasp for air as Zoro helps you pull the shirt over his head, letting it fall carelessly somewhere in the hallway. 

Damn. 

Zoro could very well be a statue of a deity. He's so firm and well-defined. 

Damn! 

He chuckles as you bite your lower lip and stare. Your fingers trace his abs and pecs, and an absent sigh leaves your lips. Zoro uses the moment to find his way through the bedroom door and throws you on the bed, immediately following you and latching his lips to yours again. 

You unbutton your jeans and shimmy out of them because his touch is igniting a fire that needs to be put out immediately, before you combust. The way his calloused fingers travel your bare legs has you panting into his mouth, and you wrap the limbs around his waist again, pulling him towards you and feeling just how hard he already is. 

Zoro swallows your mewl and palms your ass, pulling you harshly closer to him, the friction of his jeans on your clothed clit burning like the hottest fire. Unrestrained, uncontrolled fire. It's exactly what you want. 

Arching into his touch, you feel his hand slither inside your shirt, groping flesh, feeling, claiming, but his movements are restricted, and he groans as he parts with you, pulling you upward so he can hook his fingers under your clothes to finally get rid of them. “Off.” He growls, and you nearly melt.

Zoro’s intensity is only equal to the fire burning in his eyes. It's not just exactly what you want, it’s precisely what you need. 

He gets rid of your clothes, and the minute you're bare to him, you shiver under his hungry stare. 

And then he freezes.

You cock your head to the side, your hands stilling their motions on his arms as you try to grasp what’s going on. It’s only when a gargled sound leaves his lips and you follow his gaze that you understand what’s going on: the bite mark.

Zoro opens and closes his mouth as your eyes widen, your hand instinctively raising to cover up the mark. But he’s faster. He grips your hand to stop you, his eyes unwavering, though the tremble of his hand betrays his composure. 

“Zoro…”

“Are those fucking teeth marks?” Zoro’s voice hits a low, dangerous tone. “What else have you kept hidden from me? Where else has that motherfucker touched you?” Zoro raises your arms, moves your legs, looking for something that’s not there, his teeth clenching so hard you can hear them grind, and his muscles drawn so taut, all the veins in his arms are prominent. “I’m going to kill that fucker for ever laying a finger on you.”

You stop his frantic search, your own hands stilling his as you search his eyes. “Zoro–”

“No, Trouble! Fuck!” Zoro punches the mattress twice, you can almost feel the fury seeping out of him in waves. “I failed you! I didn’t protect you, I–”

“Stop!” Cupping his cheek, you force his gaze back onto your face. His nostrils flare with heavy breaths, and a single tear travels down your cheek. “Zo… he already took so much from me.” A sob shakes your shoulders, and you pull Zoro closer. “Don’t let him take this too… please!” Zoro groans. “Please…”

It takes him a few seconds to breathe out all of his fury - to contain it - and even then, you can still feel it brimming under the surface.

Still, his gaze softens as he stares back into your eyes with a small, condescending nod. Then he presses his lips against yours again, though this time it's much softer. He starts slowly, lazily taking your tongue in his as he lays your body back down on the bed with controlled movements.

He only parts the kiss to remove his pants, then he settles his body in the middle of your legs and starts worshiping you. Zoro’s touch went from intense to soft; from ravishing to reverent; from a raging fire to a slow ember. 

He grabs your hip as his lips travel from your belly button to your sternum, then to your breast, where his tongue comes out and swirls around a perky nipple. You gasp and arch into his mouth, then feel his hand tremble against your hip, as if he wants to grab you harder but stops himself from doing it.

Then his fingers hook on the hem of your panties, and he pulls them down, his tongue never ceasing the dizzying motion around your erect nipple. You let out an unbridled moan, and he grunts, his hands now rough on the back of your thighs as he spreads them open. Zoro lifts his head away from your breast, clenches his teeth, and his touch softens again.

It feels… wrong.

So you reach, helping him out of his boxers and touching him, trying to bring back that intensity and fire that you so desperately need, that he was so willing to give before. His cock is thick and veiny, and he lets out a throaty mumble when you stroke it softly, the coil of desire wound tight in your belly. 

“Zo,” you try, “let go.” He nods softly as his hand cups your cheek and he claims your lips. The kiss is urgent, and you relent. It’s almost what you need. Then his hand travels from your neck to your back and he positions your back against the bed, angling himself with your wet folds, his tip probing slowly. 

A moan leaves your lips as you move against him, but he doesn’t thrust - not yet. You look at him and see clearly the way he’s trying to control himself: a tightness of his jaw, the unrestrained anger behind his eyes. 

His touch is featherlight, and he holds you almost as if he's afraid to break you. Then Zoro takes a deep breath and finally sheathes himself inside of you. 

Your head falls back in abandon as you dig your nails into his shoulders, pulling him closer. The stretch feels good. But there's something amiss. 

“Fuck.” Zoro curses, his brows furrowed tightly as he pulls back torturously slowly, and you whine, shaking your head. 

“Stop, Zoro, stop.” The press of your hand against his chest along with your words makes him halt, his eye widening as he searches for any sign of pain. Instead, he finds frustration. 

“You're holding back.” It's not a question. It's a statement. He sighs, head slumping forward as his jaw sets. 

“I don't… he… fuck! I can't hurt you, you've been through so much and I'm… I'm so furious!” Another punch against the mattress helps Zoro vent some frustration. “I can’t control myself.”

You trace soothing circles against the tautness of his biceps. It's physically visible the way he's controlling himself. “It's not what I need right now, Zo. I've been feeling trapped, held ransom, controlled! I need to feel free… I need to feel like myself. I have to be in control.”

Zoro's gaze falls to yours again, and you hold him there. 

“I need all of you. Let go.” He's still breathing hard, weighing his options, making sure that's what you want. “I want to feel like he doesn't own me.”

Your words cut through Zoro's thoughts like a sharp blade, and you see that unrestrained rage clawing its way from behind his erect walls. He minces your words for a few moments, and you feel the change happening. Zoro grabs your waist tighter, his fingers digging deep into your skin, making you gasp. Closing his eye, Zoro takes a deep breath, and when he opens it again, there's a fire burning deep. 

“Trouble…” He grips tighter, his lips kissing your skin, pressing, claiming. “You know how much I like you, don't you?”

A shiver courses through you, the air feels different - heavier, thicker - filled with tension and unspoken words. 

“Yeah. I think I do.” You nod softly, feeling his gaze baring you in a way that being naked never could. 

“Good.” Then he steals your breath with an earth-shattering kiss. Fiery, determined, desperate. His teeth sink into your lip, and you moan as his tongue swallows the noise. When he breaks it, you're panting with flushed cheeks. “Cause I'm about to fuck you like I don't.”

And he does just that. 

In an instant he's thrusting again, a deep, shattering thrust. Zoro pulls your hips against his body at the same time and you cry out his name in surprise. 

Everything feels like desperation and want. His thrusts are relentless, each one harder than the last, each one hitting deeper. 

It's this! This was exactly what you wanted! 

“Oh, God, God!” You pant, throwing your head back as Zoro grabs, bites, nips and licks every bit of flesh he can get his hands and mouth on. 

“This what you want, Trouble?” Zoro lifts your butt to angle it the right way, his hand pressing down on your stomach to tighten your walls against his throbbing cock, and suddenly, you're hit with blinding, hot, pleasure. “This what you need?”

“Yes! Zo! God!” You moan, a litany of mewls that sound like a prayer. You chant his name over and over again as you feel pleasure building up. You can't think, you can only feel! 

“I don't believe in deities, Trouble. It's all me.” His grunt is primal and possessive as his grip tightens and you clench him, an instinctive response to his claim. The unholy squelches fill the room like an erotic symphony and you’re lost in bliss.

Then Zoro chuckles darkly as he watches you almost break apart beneath him, your legs thrown carelessly as your nails bite and dig into his tanned skin. “Harder?” He asks, breathless as he pulls back, dragging his cock against your walls and then thrusting with such force that the moan that leaves your lips sounds foreign. “Faster?” He thrusts again, relentless, hitting your G spot with such precision that you're pretty sure your brain is melting. 

Zoro's forehead glistens with perspiration as he feels you tightening around him. He's numbing every thought, every feeling of helplessness, filling your mind with just one thing: Zoro, Zoro, Zoro! Another harsh thrust makes you tip over the brink, and the rough touch of the pad of his thumb against your clit in an unforgiving motion, has you spiraling and falling. Zoro's name spills out of your lips laced in moans and praise and you feel more like yourself than you have felt since this nightmare started. 

Still, he barely lets you recover. 

Your body still trembles and shakes as you come down from your high when he flips both of you, laying his back on the bed with you on top, riding him. You brace your hands against his taut chest to try and ground yourself with a gasp as he shows you a cocky smirk. “You wanted control? Take it.”

You feel yourself clenching in response to his teasing words. You did say you wanted to feel in control, but you barely have strength to hold your head straight, let alone ride this man. Zoro’s hands rest on your hips, but he doesn't move. He doesn't guide you or thrust into you. He just waits. 

Slowly you begin to rock your body, the waves of the previous pleasure still rippling through you, pulling another lazy mewl from your lips as you feel every vein of his cock dragging against your walls, hitting deeper than you thought possible. Zoro lets out a strangled groan as his digits create indents against the flesh of your thighs. He gasps and clenches his jaw, and you realise you are in absolute control of how you're making him feel. 

It's empowering. 

But it's not what you need. 

Zoro sees the way you start to struggle, trying to fall back into the relentless pace he set, but failing miserably. It's pleasurable, but it's not mind-numbing. 

His hands stroke your thighs as he lets out a raspy breath, his cock twitching inside of you, pulling a whimper from your parted lips. “Just ask for it.” He mumbles and your throat tightens. 

You know that his words have a much deeper meaning. He's not just telling you to ask for more. He's telling you to ask for his help. Like you should've done. All these weeks spent in suffocating silence, in a desperate struggle to just survive, and he was right there… 

“Say it.”

Your nails dig into his chest and you stop your futile motions. “Help me, Zo…”

It's so much more than a request to take control. It's a plea. It's a cry for protection. 

And he answers. 

A heavy sigh parts his lips as his hands grip your hips, holding you steady. Then he pounds you with a strength you didn't know he possessed. You can't hold back your moans as your body arches for him, head thrown back in rapture as another wave of pleasure starts to crest deep inside your belly. 

Zoro grunts and lets out a string of curses as he feels your cunt clenching him and squeezing him, his hands bruise, his pace quickens. 

And then you fall with a loud cry. 

Zoro's right behind you. 

He lifts his body, holding you tight against him as he buries his head in the crook of your neck and comes undone with a groan, his body stilling against yours in a crushing hug. 

It takes you both a few moments to calm your breaths, your heart rates evening out slowly, though you're both still lost in each other's embrace. 

“All you had to do was let me in, Trouble.”

His breathless words cut deep, and this time you truly shatter. 

Your body heaves and tears sting your eyes. Even though you try to control your sobs, you can't, and you hug Zoro tighter. He's still buried deep within you because neither of you wants to move, but his hand caresses your back in a soothing motion. 

“You're safe now. I won't let him touch you again.” He mumbles, though his words tremble with rage, and you know he's making much more than a promise: it's a vow. Then his lips seal the oath, pressing softly over and around the wound, scorching away the remnants of your stalker's claim: purifying it. 

And you sob harder. 

All the hurt and helplessness, all the fright and feelings of despair, all the stress and anxiety - vanish. Gone, just like that. Because Zoro is safety, Zoro is protection. And you know nothing will harm you as long as you're in his arms. 

“You're safe.” Zoro repeats over and over again, and with each echo of his words, his anger melts further. His hand tangles with your hair, and he kisses your neck, your cheek, the corner of your eyes. He's claiming your tears. 

He’s healing you. 

-*-

In the aftermath, when you’re both lying in bed, you sense Zoro wants to know more, but are you willing to share?

“Was it at the club?” He finally asks and the words are heavy, like they’ve lingered on his tongue for a while, marinating before he lets them spill out. You don’t have to ask what ‘it’ is, you know.

“Yes.” A sigh parts your lips as you know this will only feed Zoro’s anger. “He trapped me against the bar and clutched my wrist.” You don’t tell Zoro all the things the stalker said to you, you can show him that mercy. “Then he marked me… as his.” 

Zoro’s rage is now controlled. Subdued under layers of care and worry for you. But you know this fury is a monster on its own - a demon - and when Zoro finally unleashes it, he will bring forth hell. 

“Tell me everything.” Zoro demands. 

And you do.

Like you should’ve done weeks ago.

-*-

The night is still dark and eerie, it must be around four in the morning, but it’s not daunting or scary. Still, you can’t sleep.

Zoro dozed off a while ago, though his arms around you still hold the same strength, the same barrier of protection he created just for you. But you can’t stop thinking about his safety.

He assured you that you were now safe. He promised. But it was never your safety you were worried about. It was always about keeping Zoro safe.

With a heavy sigh, you disentangle from his embrace and step out of the bedroom on light steps. Your intention is only to go to the bathroom. You and Zoro talked, and he said you should just chuck the phone away, not even pick it up anymore, and you intended to follow through.

But as soon as you step into the hallway, the phone buzzes against the glass of the coffee table.

And you falter.

The buzz is relentless, taunting you, frightening you again. You shouldn’t look, you know that - hell, you promised that.

Still…

Your footsteps take you towards the living room, and you kneel on the floor, eyes darting to the sides because you’re already feeling that familiar prickling on the back of your neck - the one that tells you you’re being watched. 

And then you flip the screen over.

Unknown: Fucking whore! How could you? Unknown: You’re MINE! Unknown: You slut! Moaning for him like a dog in heat? I’ll teach you manners! Unknown: … I’m sorry. I overreacted. It’s not your fault, Kitten. It’s all the cop’s fault. Unknown: He tainted you, he DARED touch what’s mine. Unknown: It’s not your fault. You just need to learn. But I’m patient. I’ll teach you. Unknown: We still have to get rid of him, though, don’t we? Unknown: He can’t get away with making you moan like you’re a common wench.  Unknown: I have half a mind to climb up his bedroom window and gut him like the fucking pig he is! Unknown: Would you want that, Kitten? To see his blood dripping from his open belly? His guts spread out on the floor as he’s still alive and breathing and FEELING all of the pain?

You drop the phone on the carpet with a soft thud, your eyes already brimming with unshed tears. This was what you feared. You shouldn’t have come to Zoro. You shouldn’t have…

The nightmare didn’t stop, it just paused and restarted even worse than before. 

The phone buzzes again and you stare down, your hands still trembling as you try to fight the feeling of dread that has settled in your chest. 

Unknown: I’m usually a patient man, Kitten, but I’ve run out of patience with the cop.  Unknown: It ends now.

What does he mean? You barely have time to conjure up all the grisly thoughts to the forefront of your mind before you see it: a little red laser dot, shining against your hand. You turn your palm upwards, and the laser lingers until your mind associates it with danger: a gun.

You gasp and snap your head forward towards the window where the dot is coming from. And then it moves. Your eyes follow it, dread knotting your stomach and making you nauseous - you don’t need to follow it, you know where it’s going.

Zoro.

With trembling fingers, you clutch the phone, and for the first time since you’ve realised he was a stalker, you answer his text.

You: No, please, no! Stop! You: Don’t hurt him! I’ll do anything!

You angle your body towards the bedroom, and you see the dot stop, then disappear. Did it work?

Your chest thumps loudly against your ribcage, and when the phone buzzes again, you’re eager to read the answer.

Unknown: Anything, Kitten? Unknown: You’ve just saved the cop’s life. Unknown: Meet me at our home. You’re ready.

Fear and apprehension hold you ransom for a few moments before you compose yourself. There’s no room to back away now, no room to feel regret. You saved Zoro’s life. You’re willing to trade yours for his without a second thought.

So you collect your clothes - doning Zoro’s sweater too because you can’t stop shivering, even though you know it’s not the cold that’s causing it - and scribble a small note for Zoro: I’ll handle this.

Even though you know you won’t handle anything. Maybe it keeps him home?

You suck on your lower lip to stop a sob or a desperate chuckle, you’re not quite sure which - Zoro would go to the ends of earth to keep you safe. You know that. That note is trash.

Still, you turn to leave, but before you exit, you reach into Zoro’s holster and grab his gun. 

You won’t go unprepared. You’re willing to fight.

-*-

Returning home has never felt so terrifying. You took Zoro’s car, both because yours was still at the police station - though it’s not that far from Zoro’s - and also because it will slow him down if he wakes up and decides to look for you.

The porch light is on - you didn’t leave it like that - and the front door is open - you closed it, even though you didn’t lock it.

Before leaving the car, you place the gun inside the sweater pocket and mumble a prayer to whichever deity might be listening. 

This ends tonight. It has to. One way or the other, you can’t live like this anymore.

Each step out of the car and closer to your home sounds like the drums of doom. Each light tap of your sneakers is like a nail being hammered on your coffin. Your confidence oozes out of your body as if it were perspiration and gets lost somewhere on the steps of your porch.

You reach the open door feeling bare.

He took everything from you, and he’s about to claim all of it as his own. 

“Finally, Kitten. Come to me.”

And there’s nothing you can do about it.

He turns on the lights inside the house and you gasp, your eyes widening as recognition strikes. “You? Why?”

“Because I love you, Kitten. And you will, too. Soon. Soon.”

The sound of the door closing behind you seals your fate. It’s the lid on the coffin, and it’s suffocating. There’s no air, there’s no light, there’s no room. 

Only despair.

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000 @chibinasuu @my-name-is-heartache @laidenbreecatchall

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|Chapter 12|

[hiddenreamers]

Telegraph Road 1977 & 2024 - Lando Norris

SUMMARY: For Lando, the words "first love" just make him think of his childhood neighbour. Then, his heart breaks a little when he remembers she's somewhere in San Francisco. How surprised he is when it turns out you're much closer - in an apartment across the hall. Lando couldn't be more grateful for the strange mysteries that led you to this doorway.

WC: 983

Everybody has those moments when they are suddenly reminded of someone they knew long ago. Old classmates, kids from summer camp, playground friends – people who once were part of your daily life but now you think about them maybe once a year if not less often. Those silent questions of “I wonder what happened to them?” come and go just as quickly, like a golden brown leaf carried by the wild, autumn wind.

Lando is something of an exception to that rule. The thoughts of his old neighbour never quite leave him, as though his autumn is more of a perpetuity than a season. Despite the passage of time, that curious quirk of his stuck. However, the why has changed. While still a child, he’d ponder the memories of you simply out of longing. It is only natural when one’s closest companion is gone one day. Then, as his young heart began revolving around crushes, dates and girlfriends, Lando suffered an epiphany. Finally, he understands! It was as if on some random Tuesday lightning had struck him – it was love he felt for you, not just friendship. And what a tale of one’s first love it told! “We were inseparable, soulmates, if you will, when one day she moved away and I never heard from her again.” Truly, a drama worth a thousand novels.

Little does he know, that those strange mysteries that separate lovers, sometimes lead them to each other’s doorways…

Lando is closing his front door, when the sound of paws tapping the floor grabs his attention. Without much thought, he looks down the corridor.

The tapping belongs to a rather happy-looking Scottish setter. He recognizes the breed only because he’s spent his childhood running around a small British town with you and two of those dogs. Despite the lingering memories of the past, Lando doesn’t mind the pet any longer, again focusing on his own things. Then, a strangely familiar voice distracts him again:

“Come on, Axel! We’ll have plenty of time to make friends later.”

Almost giving himself whiplash, Lando looks for the source of the sound. Could it be…?

You’re a little surprised when you hear someone calling out your name in a questioning manner. As far as you know, none of your friends live in Monaco. So how come someone here knows you? Fixing your grip on the box labelled Kitchen, you take a look around the corridor.

For a moment, you think you’re just seeing things. But you’ve stared at that face for so long, you could recognize him in the darkest, most inexplicable fever dream; the face that you’ve associated with home for your whole life.

“Oh my God, Lando Norris!” you exclaim between chuckles. “I can’t believe it!”

His cheeks redden a little. “You remember me?” The question has a distinct tone of surprise.

“Of course I do! You were my best friend,” you say. “Well, the only friend for a few years,” you add, your voice noticeably quieter than before.

“What are you doing here? I thought your family moved to San Francisco.”

It is only then that Lando truly sees who you’ve become throughout all those years away. Perhaps you are more beautiful than he could imagine but you’re also much sadder. There’s a wistful look in your eye, a tell-tale sign of maturity that is only born out of tears. He can only wonder what pains have brought you back to him.

“At first, it was San Francisco, then New York, Chicago, L.A… I never fit in anywhere. They’re all very lonely cities, you know?” Just for a second, your eyes become glossy. His heart feels a painful sting that only gets worse as you force a wide smile on your face. You’ve had practice in faking happiness, haven’t you? “But enough about me, it’s not that interesting,” you say in a casual tone. “Congratulations on your driving career. Seriously, you’re amazing. Would it be creepy if I admitted now that I’ve watched every single one of your races?”

“Not as creepy as admitting I’ve stalked your social media and never followed you because I thought you don’t remember me.”

“Are you dead serious right now?” Lando’s sheepish smile earns a loud laugh from you. “You should have tried anyway!”

“Funny that you’re the one to say that,” he retorts. “Why didn’t you message me if you’re such a big fan?”

Flustered, you look away for a moment. “Honestly, I thought it would be weird,” you confess. “I was sure you’d forgotten all about me and pulling this ‘we were childhood friends’ schtick now that you’re famous would be so embarrassing. You’re this top-of-the-top racing driver and I’m, well, me.” A bitter chuckle comes after your words but the faux amusement isn’t enough to fool Lando.

“You’re staying for long in Monaco?” His question is accompanied by a light gesture towards the box in your arms.

“As long as they don’t fire me, I guess.” That strange, sad laughter again. “Listen, you look like you have somewhere to be and I’ve already taken up too much of your time. You could come by in the evening, catch up if you want?” Your tone rises, revealing uncertainty about whether the invitation is welcome.

But to him, the answer is obvious. “I’d love that.”

You give him one last smile, then disappear behind the door to your apartment.

In some sense, he has you back. Not the girl he remembers, no. Something innate seems to be gone from your soul but Lando lacks the words to name the change. The sights, the loves, the pains – whatever it was that took your life on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, it sprouted melancholy in the very marrows of your bones.

“What happened to you?” he whispers to himself.

The only answer that comes is muffled footsteps and the shuffling of cardboard boxes.

Check out other fics in the Ampersand Themed Works

[ghoulpiled]

ʟᴏꜱ ᴀɢᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ || Part One

𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞? 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞? 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘?

❧𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Pre-War!Cooper Howard x fem!Reader

❧𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧g: E / MATURE! Minors, DO NOT interact!

❧ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ: Smut with plot, virgin!reader, cheating, lowkey alcoholic reader, oral (female receiving), fingering, penetration

❧𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: ~6k

❧𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: From costars to strangers, it’s like fate keeps bringing the two of you together.

❧ɴᴏᴛᴇ:  Lots of switching from present to past tense as events happen. Also, added new parts from what the teaser had. Realized I wanted to make this a story with more than one part. If I kept just one part... it would be far too long.

You have been in the acting game for far too long. Originally you were advertising royalty. Your mom first put you into commercial gigs at the young age of five. Luckily for your mom, BlamCo Mac & Cheese was looking for the new poster child. Your face was plastered on billboards all around Hollywood. “Nothing says dinner like BlamCo Mac & Cheese. Bring the family together for a dish everyone will enjoy.” This phrase will forever be etched into the grooves of your brain. But as all gigs go, you outgrew BlamCo. Once you hit age ten, you couldn’t be the cutesy little kid telling families to eat the most disgusting mac and cheese known to man. Like many gigs will do, you were dropped from the gig. It paid well. Well, it paid your mom well. 

She would go on lavish vacations without you. Only leaving you with a babysitter. This babysitter ended up raising you. Your mom would also buy herself expensive dresses and handbags. What would you get? Hand Me downs of whatever wardrobe on commercials could give you.  This was a common theme early on in your career. The money you made was promised to you once you hit eighteen. Enough money to go to college and make a name for yourself professionally. After the BlamCo gig, you hit a dry spell. No one wanted a kid going through puberty as the face of their brand. With money getting tight, your mom signed you up for every and any background character role in a film and TV show she could. That’s where Nuka Cola noticed you.

Upon hitting sixteen, Nuka Cola representatives came up to your mom offering you a four year contract to be the face of Nuka Cola. It paid insanely well. So you did it. Another gig with your face plastered everywhere. From highway billboards to full body cut outs of you in Red Rockets across the country, you were back in the limelight. But those four years went by quickly. Once the contract ended, you were eighteen. You were excited to throw your acting career away. Child stardom was too damn much. College was going to be a fresh start for you! To no one’s surprise, you never got your money. To make it worse, your mom kicked you out of the house. She didn’t see you as profitable anymore. Mainly because you are old enough to go your own way. 

Due to all these gigs, you never had time to make friends. So you took to crashing on random old co-star’s couches. You were back to background gigs. Which paid okay but not enough to help pay for college. Sadly, that was a dream you could never catch. It took three years for you to finally get your foot back in the door with big acting gigs. That gig being A Man and His Dog. A film in which you play the main female character who is supposed to seduce the main lead. It wasn’t really a film expected to go anywhere. The lead was a man straight out of the Sino-American War who had never acted a day in his life. This was also your first big gig, you’re not one to talk. Unknown to you, that man would become western movie royalty. A young and disgruntled Cooper Howard. 

First day on set was odd. No one really talked to you. Not even the director. There was no way you were to know if you were doing the role justice. They had you in a wedding dress with white face paint. It was embarrassing. You stand near your trailer, lighting up a cigarette during lunch. Rent was due that night and you had no money to pay it. If this gig didn’t make a lot of money, you’re screwed. With a shaky breath, you look down at the ground. You’re getting cigarette ash all over this dress. Wardrobe is going to kill you. 

“Now what’s a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?”

The southern voice takes you out of your thoughts as you look up. You rub your eyes, messing up the makeup you have on. Now your hand is stained white. Great. Cooper walks over to you  before leaning against your trailer. He takes out a cigarette of his own and begins to smoke with you. This is the first person to speak with you and it's the lead of the film. You try to act natural but you’re smitten. There is some charm he holds. Maybe it’s the fact you’re playing weird lovers in the film or the fact you have never been in contact with such a gorgeous man before. This moment right now makes you realize you’ve never had your first kiss. Your life has been acting gig after acting gig. No time for personal relationships.

“Are ya just gon’ stare at me?” He chuckles, voice smooth like whiskey. 

You clear your throat and shake your head.

“Sorry, I’m not used to small talk.” Is all you can truly muster.

He offers you a kind smile. One that feels like sickly sweet honey on a hot day. It makes your stomach flutter with butterflies. He already has you wrapped around his finger. Maybe it’s the southern drawl that burns like a good bourbon. He is one hell of a charmer. 

“Ain’t small talk unless you want it to be.” He takes a long drag from his cigarette, licking his bottom lip.

“You’re killing it by the way. The director is- pardon my language- a dick.” Cooper scoffs, shaking his head. He flicks his cigarette onto the ground and stomps on it which causes you to do it to your own.

You can’t help but chuckle at that. 

“You can say that again.” You turn to face him, leaning against your own trailer.

Maybe this set wouldn’t be as bad as you thought. 

During set, you would crash at Cooper’s apartment. A tiny place near filming. You ended up getting evicted because you couldn’t afford rent. It was only logical you still find somewhere to crash. You’re lucky you became close with Cooper. He’s a gentleman. Made you feel at home. You opened up about your childhood and he opened up about war. War. It was a scary thing. His stories kept you on the edge of your seat. Here you were, thinking you had a tough past. Almost all of Cooper’s friends are dead because of the war. You could only comfort him. 

It’s not like he didn’t have a support system. He had a beautiful fiancé who would stop by sometimes. You couldn’t help but feel a bit of jealousy when she came by. Of course you and Cooper were just friends but no one had shown you kindness the way he had. Maybe you fell for him out of convenience… or the feelings were real; Yet, the way he held her and the way she made him laugh was something you’ll never have with him. 

There were late nights at Cooper’s apartment where he would be on the phone with his fiancé nonstop. But then there were nights just for you. All his attention on you after wrapping. The two of you would share a few drinks and shoot the shit about set. Make fun of the director or one of your costars. There was one night in particular where the both of you got overly excited about drinking.

It was a tough day after set and the two of you were sitting on his couch drinking the stress away. This was after filming an explicit scene with him. The way he was on top of you was burned into your brain. While there was no real sex that had happened, the performance was perfect. Hungry kisses were pressed to your neck and you fake biting his collarbone causing him to hiss in pain… 

While sitting next to him, three rum and Nukas in, you were getting handsy. So was he. He laid a hand on your knee and you have a hand on his chest.

“Never acted out a sex scene before…” You slur, biting your lip.

“It was kind of obvious, darlin’” Cooper takes another sip, causing you to swat at his chest.

“Coop! C’mon. It wasn’t that bad was it?” You whine and lean back against the couch.

“Well… I mean, think of it as if it was real. That should help your performance.”

You look up at Cooper and your cheeks turn red. It took a moment for him to realize what you were getting at. When he did, his own cheeks heated up. 

“You’re not sayin-”

“I am.” You say and he pulls his hand off of your knee. “Never kissed anyone either.”

Maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was pent up lust from the set, but he leans in. Against your better judgment, you lean in too. You could taste the rum against his soft lips. Wrapping your arms around him, you don’t question this one bit. Running his tongue over your bottom lip, you invite him inside your mouth. You run your tongue over his, feeling the rough bumps. He bites your tongue softly, sucking on it. It was enough to make you moan. You curl your fingers in his hair, tugging at it. Cooper pushes himself against you where you could feel just how hard you were making him. He bites down on your tongue once more before you realize what is going on. That this wasn’t acting. That you were actually making out with Cooper Howard. The taken actor. One who’s fiancé, Barb, considered you family.

You pull away and only a trail of spit was what was connecting you. You were going to apologize but he got up, leaving the room. No words were shared for the rest of the night. You feel guilty. But you were too damn drunk for this. So was he.

After filming wrapped, you were thrust into the world of press. The both of you seemed to forget about the kiss. The one you shared with him while drunk. Thank god for that. The press tour with Cooper was something else. The director wanted you two to lean into a facade. He wanted the both of you to act like lovers. This was to sell the film, lean into that romance your two characters had. You couldn’t flirt for shit without a script. Cooper, however, was a complete natural.

You followed Cooper’s lead. You know it was all an act but you were falling for him. Hard. He was the first man to ever give you the time of day. You knew it was fake flirting but every blush that he caused was real. The film ended up being big enough to push both Cooper and you into the spotlight. Now you’re landing gigs like crazy as well as him.

One night you called his hotel room, drunk. You had gone to his bar after a press interview with your other cast mates. Cooper stayed in. At a payphone, you rang him. It was right after a man tried to hit on you and take you to his place. It was less romantic and more forceful. He was a balding older man who seemed to hug his cup of on tap beer. Ultimately, you punched the man in the face. He tried to grope you. You had the right to fight back. Maybe you had a tough relationship with alcohol. You’ll address that later in life. But while at that payphone, you whined and cried to Cooper. This night you barely remember other than the fact that he came and got you. He went out of his way to help you. 

You both play lovers again in another western B-film. This one didn’t have the same success as the prior film but it was still another film you did with Cooper. You loved working with him. It was always such a delight. But mid-this film, he got married. That ruined the tabloid rumors of the both of you together that were thrusting you into stardom with him. Hollywood loved rumors. You weren’t even invited to the damn wedding. That had put a rift between the both of you. He never told you why you weren’t invited. He was supposed to be your closest friend. After getting married, things changed. He didn’t act as friendly towards you. Actually, he ignored you. Barb started showing up to set more and more. You did not know at the time it would be the last time you’d be acting with him.

After that film, you two were no longer casted together. He did a lot more solo cowboy films while you still got put into that innocent lover girl stereotype. But Hollywood really started to make you jaded. Any man who approached you only wanted sex. No one liked you for you. Your personal life was shit. You had no one. But Cooper? He seemed to have it all. A wife, a kid on the way, and a successful career.You only had a career. You yearned for love. 

About three years later, you worked on a western film; one with no relation to Cooper. You were the star. Maybe people started to realize that you weren’t as innocent as films made you seem. You played a jaded mayor who took matters into her own hands when the town,  mainly men, started to turn on your character. The director and writer were women which made the set far more comfortable than anything you have ever experienced. 

Once that film wrapped, you were invited to an after party at the director’s home. Not just for your film but the other films that were filming in the lot. It was about time you had fun. For years you were on your own. No parties, just work. When you got there, the place was packed. It felt odd being dressed in a skin tight black dress, you were getting glares from older men and women. You shared hugs with a few cast and crew members before heading for the open bar. You get a vodka cranberry and find a secluded place away from most people. When you thought you were alone, you heard a familiar voice arguing.

“Did you have to invite all your coworkers?” 

Cooper. His voice is as sweet as the first day you met him. You’d recognize it anywhere.

“If we want to settle that commercial deal, you might as well get friendly with them.” 

His wife.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. Maybe she was nice. But it was almost like she knew you liked her husband. The awkward tension soured any companionship that could have happened. But that was for the best when you think about it in hindsight. You were under the influence at the moment, not exactly in the best state to talk to your ex-costar. Besides, his wife was a higher up at Vault-Tec, something a lot of actors and actresses seem to hate. There was a lot of drama going on with that. You better ignore those two like the plague, for your own sanity.

Looking from your hidden spot, you see his wife had walked away from him. She probably went to grab a drink. It made sense. He stood with a cigarette in between his fingers, still as pretty as the last time you saw him. Cooper’s eyes catch yours and you duck back to your secluded spot. You curse to yourself as you hear his footsteps come towards you.

“Ain’t no way that’s Y/N.” His southern accent is strong, causing you to swoon.

You step out of your hiding spot and sigh, offering him a friendly smile. He hugs you, acting like nothing happened. Like it hadn’t been years since you last saw him. He had a charming smile on his lips.

“Oh hey.” You shrug.

“Seen your latest picture, you killed it.” 

“Thanks.”

You didn’t know what else to say to him.

“How have you been?” He asks. It was a question you’ve been dreading.

“Fine.” You shake your head.

“Fine?”

“Mhm.”

You down the rest of your drink, needing the liquid courage. You didn’t need to hear about how great his life was. How he had a beautiful wife and a child. Cooper seemed to take the hint, getting agitated himself.

“I can tell when I’m not wanted, darlin’.” He teases you. That nickname makes you want to vomit.

“You’re not wanted?” You scoff. You were being a bit of a dick but you’ll blame your actions on the alcohol. “Says the man who decided he couldn’t be my friend after getting married.”

“You think that was my choice?”

That shut you up. You look at him, confused. Then he continues, “She knew, you know.”

The kiss. He had to be talking about the kiss. It’s the only thing she could have known.

“How?”

“I told her.” He admitted, shrugging. “How could I not? She’s my partner.”

“Wow, what a gentleman.” 

He shakes his head, sighing. “If you were in a relationship, you’d do the same. Like, if a guy came and kissed you, you’d tell your partner.”

“I didn’t kiss you.” You defend.

“But you kissed back. You could have stopped me.” Cooper shrugs.

You’re about to explode at him until Barb comes up to the two of you with drinks in her hands. She offers you a fake smile, passing a drink to him and wrapping her arm around his arm. 

“Y/N! I haven’t seen you in ages! How are you?” She asks. You must keep things civil.

“Hi. I’ve been just fine, so busy.” You laugh awkwardly. 

“I didn’t know you’d be here. Cooper and I actually have people to talk to but it’s been great seeing you.”

Just like that, she tears him away.

Good riddance.

You spend the rest of the night drinking. People try to talk with you and it's just useless networking. Networking is great until you have to do that for hours on end. You watch Cooper and Barb, seeing them exchange kisses. The living room becomes an impromptu dance floor for couples. He tries to get her to dance with him but it's fruitless. They leave the living room to go somewhere. You hope they leave for a moment until you look at the time.

You’re about to leave when a handsome man approaches you. Hollywood’s newest playboy. Tall, brown slickback hair just like James Dean, and a killer smile. He wears a designer suit, sliding up next to you.

“You come here all alone, pretty thing?” He asks. 

Fuck it. You take his bait.

“Yes. It's been such a bore here all alone.” You pout, jutting your bottom lip out slightly. 

He wraps an arm around your waist, smirking. “Share a dance with me. Promise I don’t bite, baby girl.” 

You sway with him, hips pressed against his. His hands rest on your hips. You are far too drunk for this. All you can think about is Cooper. It’s wrong to think of Cooper when with another man. But when this man’s hand snakes up to cup your cheek and your lips connect, you think of your first kiss. The one you shared with Cooper. This doesn’t help one bit. But now you’re on the dancefloor, kissing this man as if he’s your reason for living. You moan against his lips, whining when he bites your bottom lip. He takes this as an invitation to squeeze your ass with his other hand. You open your eyes, making eye contact with Cooper. No Barb by him. Just him on his own. 

Maybe it was evil to do this, you keep your eyes in focus with Cooper’s as you kiss this stranger. He looks angry. Why should he be angry? In his words, he’s a married man. You close your eyes again, letting your tongue slip into this stranger’s. Staying like this, you’re content. That is until someone pulls the man away from you. You open your eyes and see an angry Cooper standing in front of you. Whining, you cross your arms.

“Hey, listen, I have dibs.” The man says, rolling his eyes.

Cooper looks at you with a certain flame in his eyes you can’t place.

“Aren’t you gonna say anything?” He scoffs.

All he can do is drop mister heartthrob on the ground, grabbing your hand. “We are leaving.”

Before you can protest, Cooper has dragged you outside. It’s only the two of you. 

“Why would you do that?” You whine, leaning against the nearest wall. Your head was pounding.

“I can’t watch you whore yourself out for some low-life’s attention. You’re better than that.” “Whore myself out? What the fuck is your problem, Howard? Don’t you have a wife to get back to?”

“She left.” 

Before you can get any other word out, he hungrily presses a kiss against your lips. He tastes like cigarettes and expensive liquor. You don’t protest. His hands grip at your hair, tugging the strands harshly. He pulls your head back so his lips can attach to your neck. 

You can’t deny the feelings you still hold for him. He’s the reason you haven’t been with anyone else since. The reason you’re in your late 20s and still a virgin. He bites down softly on your neck just to cause a reaction. You moan, tugging at his hair. Cooper finally pulls away, smirking. You look at him, face red. It’s easy to tell that the both of you are under the influence. 

“How many men do you fuck when you go to parties?” He asks, moving a hand down to cradle the small of your back.

“None.”

That causes him to snap out of whatever haze he was under.

“None? Nice lie, darlin’.”

Would it be embarrassing to tell him you’re still a virgin? 

“Not a lie, Coop.”

You look at him, eyes innocent in this moment. You’ve been waiting for him, as embarrassing as it may seem. Cooper looks you up and down, a sickly sweet smirk plastered on his face. Maybe his wife doesn’t touch him anymore. That’s the only logical thought on why he’d be acting like this. But nothing is ever logical with Cooper Howard. 

“You’re hopeless.” He chuckles to himself before letting you go. Next thing you know, he’s turning to walk away.

You rest against the wall, not wanting this moment to end. You grab his wrist, pouting.

“Don’t leave me this time.” You beg.

“I gotta get home…”

“Fuck home.” You’re feeling gutsy.

“No. I have to go. If I stay, who knows what I’ll do, doll.” Cooper shakes his head, pulling away from your grip. He walks off to the end of the driveway, signaling a cab. 

Just like that, he’s gone.

A week later and Cooper’s face is already plastered on billboards for Vault-Tec. He’s in a stupid blue and yellow suit. His signature colors. It didn’t matter where you went, Cooper was there. It’s a sick reminder of what you’ve been through. As more time passed, the more jaded you became. You lived in a shitty studio apartment in the hills. At night you’d drink away your sorrows. You had enough money to buy your own place but a big mansion would feel like you were overcompensating for something.

Roles started to stop coming in. No one wanted to hire you. You were this close to going back to ads. No offense to ads but you were over that. You were nearing your thirties. One evening your agent called, you thought he was going to drop you right then and there. Instead, he wanted to introduce you to someone. Being single this long and being in the spotlight makes rumors spread. A single woman? Label her a communist. That’s what started to happen. 

You meet this man your agent wants you to meet. Low and behold, it’s mister James Dean look-alike. His eyes light up, pressing a kiss to your hand when you meet again. Just like that, you were dating him and getting roles. You played his lover in a film about greasers. You were the innocent good girl next door. Tabloids ate that up. You moved in with him in his mansion. A big beautiful place with a hot tub and inground pool. You were arm candy for him. For you, it was almost like you had never aged. The only thing about you that made it noticeable that time passed was that you became more and more jaded.

One night you have to head to your boyfriend’s premiere for a western he was in. You wear a long red dress that hugs your curves and shows off your breasts. From all directions paparazzi called for the both of you. Now your boyfriend never told you what this film was about but you damn near had a heart attack when you saw Cooper Howard on the carpet with his wife in his arms. He was wearing a black velvet suit with his hair slicked back. Just the sight of him made you nearly choke on air. When he catches a glimpse of you, he bites his bottom lip; however, he notices the man who is holding your waist. That smirk of his falls. Who is he one to judge? 

You find a spot in the theater and sit down. Looking around, you see Cooper with his wife. They’re overly flirty together tonight. Something you have never seen throughout your whole time knowing him. Once the lights dim in the theater, you lean over to your boyfriend and whisper something about going to the bathroom. You make it out of the theater and you never realized how jealous you were. Your relationship now? All forced. You didn’t even like the guy. Hell, he kisses like a fish out of water. 

Going to the family bathroom, you nearly kick the trash can in anger. In this moment you are hit by how fake your life is. How much shit you’ve been through and how love is not real. Well not real for you. You grab the sink and look at yourself in the mirror. You’re wearing more makeup than normal. It’s like you put makeup on a goddamn pig. Right now you have to play the role of a loving and loyal girlfriend. But is that you? Do you love him? 

Before you could continue questioning everything, the bathroom door opens. You must have not locked it.

“My bad I-” 

That fucking voice. Just hearing it right now is like the universe is taunting you.

“Darlin’.” 

“Cooper.”

You face him, a frown on your face. He doesn’t look any better. It’s like he’s seen a ghost. He comes into the bathroom, locking the door. Why would he do that? 

“Haven’t seen you in months… glad to see you’re doing well. I’m sorry about that party. What I did was wrong.” He begins to apologize. “If I knew you two were-”

“We weren’t.” You cut him off. “I should be going.”

You’re about to push past him and out of the bathroom until he grabs your wrist.

“Listen, I miss you. You were my best friend for a while an’ I just threw ya out like an old toy.”

You don’t answer.

“You look so pretty tonight. That dress… you look so good, sweetheart.”

“Don’t.”

“I-”

“I don’t get you, Cooper Howard. I don’t understand how you work the way you do. You’ll kiss me and then act like nothing ever happened. You make me feel insane! What is it with you? Do you do this with any woman you act with? If you do, I feel horrible for your wife.”

His soft expression sours. You know what’s to come next.

“You are not one to talk.” He starts, “You know it’s crazy, I used to like you.”

That makes you laugh. Of course he did. “Oh sure you did.” You roll your eyes.

“I did!” He defends.

A part of you wants to believe him but he has been nothing but in love with his wife since day one. What makes him think now it is okay to say this? Is it because you’re with a guy? That you’re not single? At this moment, the tension in the room is too tough. You couldn’t even cut it with a knife. For once, you kiss him. You’re the one pressing your lips against his. Both of you are sober at this moment. Kissing him sober is so much better than before. Your cherry red lipstick is smearing across his lips. Neither of you seem to care. He has you pushed up against the sink, you can feel his arousal in his pants. You push your hips into his, moaning as he bites down on your lip. This time feels different than any time before. It’s like you know you’re going to cross a line. He lifts up your dress, pressing a finger against your soaked panties. He nearly growls at the feeling. 

“Can I?” He asks and you nod.

He instantly drops to his knees leaving you confused. In one swift motion, he pulls down your panties. Before you can look down, his tongue runs over your clit. You twirl your fingers in his hair, tugging at it softly. All the times you’ve almost had him have led up to this moment. Softly, he sucks on your clit. You’re about to moan his name but something else takes your attention. He’s shoving two fingers into you. 

“Coop!” You hiss, grinding your cunt against his face. 

He chuckles, swirling his tongue over your clit. You swear you’ve died and gone to heaven. No one has ever made you feel this good. There’s a fire in your core. He curls his fingers and starts to rock them in and out of you. This just started but you swear you’re going to cum soon. He nips at your clit, playing with it between his teeth.

“Close. Fuck, I’m close.” You moan out.

Without warning, he pulls his fingers out of you. Pressing a kiss to your thigh, he looks up at you. Without his fingers inside of you, you whine. Looking down at him, you meet his eyes.

“You’re going to cum on my cock, got it?” 

He stands up, struggling with his belt. You try to help him take it off but he swats your hands away. Once the belt is off, he pulls his pants and boxers down in one swift motion. He’s big. You don’t know how he’s going to fit inside of you. It’s possible but it looks like he could split you in two. Who knew he was packing this whole time?

Cooper lifts you up onto the sink so you’re on display. He pulls your dress up around your waist before coating himself with your arousal. 

“Beg for it.” He demands, “How badly do you want me?”

You’ve never begged before. But fuck it. “Badly.”

“How badly, darlin’? Use your words.” 

He’s constantly rubbing himself up and down your slit. Everytime he brushes against your clit you lose it, a tiny moan slipping past your lips.

“I want you to fuck me, Cooper. Like all those times you’ve kissed me. I need you. I ache for you.” You whine.

He accepts that, slowly pushing into you. It hurts. It’s bigger than any toy you’ve used on yourself. You wrap your arms loosely around his neck, whimpering. Cooper doesn’t seem to pick up on the discomfort because he’s already starting to thrust in and out of you. He rests his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes and he fucks you. His jaw is hanging slightly as it seems he’s thinking with his cock rather than his head. Every time he hits a certain spot inside of you, you moan louder. 

“You’re tight, sweetheart. Bet your boyfriend doesn’t fuck you like this.” Cooper grunts, pressing a messy kiss to your lips. 

“Bet he doesn’t know how to make you cum.” He taunts.

You’re already starting to moan again, head tilting back. Maybe once this is over you can tell him that he’s your first. That you’ve been waiting for this day. To avoid saying anything stupid, you press a desperate kiss to his lips. It’s mainly to shut the both of you up. You’d never let your boyfriend touch you like this. He’s not Cooper. He’ll never be him. You feel nothing but bliss right now as Cooper fucks you. His thrusts are getting faster, messier. Pulling away from the kiss, he rests his forehead back on yours. Using a free hand, he starts to play with your clit. You feel like you’re on fire.

“Gonna cum. Fuck, Coop.” You moan.

This seems to encourage him, he’s getting sloppier. “Cum for me, sweetheart. Make a mess all over my cock.” He nearly growls.

You feel a knot explode in your lower stomach as you hit your climax. You’re digging your nails into his suit as you scream his name. Anyone outside the bathroom could hear the both of you. This was a risky game the two of you were playing. You clench down on him as you orgasm. His cock twitches inside of you as he quickly pulls out. You’re trying to catch your breath and he’s jerking his cock off. It’s aimed right at your clit. 

“Gonna cum all over your pretty pussy. Fuck.” He grunts, rambling to himself. 

His head falls back as he cums. It’s a lot. Some of it lands on the sink, your pussy, and your dress. You’re covered in his cum. Still trying to catch your breath, you look at Cooper. His hair is no longer slicked back, it’s falling into his face. Not just that but he’s drenched in sweat. He’s made a mess of himself. Made a mess of you. 

While the both of you catch your breath, you feel the urge to blurt something out. 

“I was a virgin.” 

He looks at you, confused and horrified. Confused because he could have sworn you’d have had sex by now and horrified because he took your virginity in the bathroom of a theater. Quickly, he pulls back up his pants. 

“I’m sorry.” Is all he can muster. He’s ashamed that your first time was here. That it wasn’t special. To him, you deserve nothing but the best in life. That’s why he was always scared to hurt you. 

His reaction is making you feel sick. This isn’t how it should be. It should be a cute moment shared between the both of you. You’re about to open your mouth but he quickly leaves the bathroom. Now you’re feeling ashamed. 

You take a few minutes before getting up. You wipe whatever bit of his cum off of you that you can. Next thing you do is leave the bathroom and go back to the theater. Sitting next to your boyfriend, the only thing on your head is that you smell like sex. 

You smell like Cooper Howard.

tag list: @djarinsgirl27 , @cupid-club

part two coming soon

[pureanonofficial]

Babes I'm new to chess, why do we hate the Danny strong book?

So this my personal opinion; other people have historically loved the Danny Strong book! Thus far, I have not.

I do want to preface my opinion by saying that thus far, the Strong book has only been seen in workshops. I love Beetlejuice the musical; had I encountered the D.C. workshop first instead of the Broadway remount, I would not have believed it could be good. Long history of musicals absolutely sucking in workshops and then turning out okay on Broadway.

For me, I have hated the Strong book so far because of its its characterization choices, dated political jokes, efforts to make the show a political thriller, and its absolutely abhorrent and offensive depiction of mental illness. For ease, I refer to the 2018 Kennedy Center production as Kencen, and the 2022 concert as Choncert.

For starters, characterization in Chess has always been mutable. There is no such thing as OOC when it comes to Chess, only choices I like less than others. However, I do think the characterization choices in Strong Chess make the show weaker. Freddie ends up coming off as the most sympathetic character, which Should Not Be. Anatoly struggles with depression and paranoia in this book, which could be really interesting, except he's a boring dick. He has no charm; it's just all paranoia and depression. He tells us in the first act that his wife was spying on him, which turns out to be a lie, and he refuses to believe she loved him even as she is begging him because their children might get sent to the gulag. Florence describes him as sweet and kind and thoughtful, and this is not evident in this slightest. Florence is very girlboss emotionally mature which is...very not Florence or especially interesting. She is the caretaker for Freddie, and in Choncert, she does something that immediately tanks all sympathy for her.

She steals Freddie's psychiatric meds, causing him to spiral and lose the match. The show does not dig into this, nor bring it up again. It's just a baffling choice to give your supposed sympathetic female lead.

In addition, Florence/Anatoly falls completely flat in a new, unique way than previous Chesses. In Choncert, there is a whole scene about them having an affair in Rome a couple years before canon (while Anatoly was married and Florence was with Freddie) and they sing YOU AND I LIKE THIRTY MINUTES INTO ACT ONE??? INSANE??? YOU DO NOT DESERVE THAT SONG YET. This further tanks my liking of these characters, as they've both been carrying on behind their partners' backs for years. Here is a video of One Night In Rome.

https://www.tumblr.com/hellyrigs/703512439768121344/the-new-scene-in-chess-dec-12-2022-one-night?source=share

Because of these changes, Freddie comes across as the most sympathetic main character??? Somehow?? He's explicitly struggling with mental illness here, either schizophrenia/bipolar depending on whether it's Kencen/Choncert (we'll get to that.) He's introduced singing A Taste of Pity by himself while struggling from a panic attack, and Florence shows up and tells him "You have to take your pills, Freddie." His paranoia is actually objectively correct here, as the Soviets ARE using underhanded tactics to get him to lose, and Florence IS cheating on him with Anatoly. You should never, ever make Freddie justified and correct in Chess. When you've done that, something has gone wrong. I don't think it's a coincidence that when Kencen sparked a little surge of Chess content, it was disproportionately about Freddie. This was definitely because of Raul Esparza's charisma, but Ramin Karimloo has an even more rabid fanbase, and there was very little Anatoly content. He's also not as horribly misogynistic and abusive here as he is in other Chesses (you can even read it as Florence abusing him, which. What. What is happening.) Yet, despite the fact that he's softened, the other characters are even WORSE to him than usual. Florence is extremely aggressive and non-sympathetic about his mental health issues from the very start of the show (the pill stealing is just the icing on the cake) Florence straight up tells him in act two that "You're incapable of love. You can't even love yourself," which is just. In a Chess where Freddie is properly an asshole, sure, say that! In THIS? It just all hits really bad.

I also haven't dug into how Svetlana's depiction makes Anatoly even worse. He says she was spying on him, accuses her of brainwashing his children to hate him, yet when we see her, the first thing she talks about is how much of a nightmare life for the past four years has been. Molokov threatens to lock her children in an orphanage and send her to die in a Siberian gulag if she fails to bring Anatoly home. She tries so hard--and all Anatoly does is call her a liar and say she never loved him. It makes him extremely unsympathetic.

I haven't even begun to dig into the dialogue yet. Dialogue in Chess has rarely been its strong point (in all my dealings with Florence, I never once made one good move) but it's rarely been boring. Tim Rice has a very distinctive awkward janky style to his dialogue that is kinda charming, even if it's not good. Richard Nelson, the Broadway libretto writer, is genuinely excellent at expressing character with dialogue. Chess pa Svenska, which had a new Swedish libretto written by Björn Ulvaeus, Lars Rudolfsson, and Jan Mark, has a scene so good it could fully stand alone as a ten minute play. Danny Strong's dialogue however...does not work for me. Here are a couple of actual lines from Strong. These were all painstakingly transcribed by me.

The Arbiter: Welcome to the the first -- and depending on how tonight goes -- last Cold War musical. On this very stage you will encounter chess grandmasters, CIA operatives, Thai prostitutes, and Ronald Reagan. Not necessarily in that order. At times our story may seem ludicrous. Sometimes it is. After all, this is a musical. But I should warn you some of this crazy shit actually happened.

"He was a child chess prodigy by the age of eleven. Which may or may not have lead to clinical narcissism and undiagnosed bipolar disorder."

Freddie: Where have you been? I need you. I love you, and I need you. Florence: Yeah, til you're feeling normal, now take your pills! Freddie: No!

Freddie: By superior training, I'm assuming that you're referring to fact that they're snatched from their families as little kids? Then trained like rats in a cage their entire childhood? The Communist system is as cruel to its chess players as it is to its people. Florence: Come on Freddie, let's go. Freddie: No, I'm fine, I'm fine. With Anatoly Sergievsky, the KGB is going to make him disappear just like Boris Ivanovich. A grandmaster vanishes off the face of the planet, and you don't even care about it because you're too busy bashing me! (Music stops) Freddie: Sporting? Are the Communists sporting? And you call me crazy! Well fuck you! Fuck you all, big and small.

Freddie: I don't blame my father for leaving, but I still hate him for it. Anatoly: He doesn't deserve Florence, she's too good for him. Freddie: I really do love her, I just don't know how to show it. Anatoly: I wish I could feel warmth. I wish I could feel anything at all. Freddie: I'd give it all to just not have my blood race all the time, to not think the walls are being bugged, to not think the KGB is trying to blow up my plane, I can't trust anybody. Anatoly: I've been a prisoner of chess all my life. I never had a childhood. I don't want to go home because I have no home. I have no identity. Freddie: I'm not evil, she [???] I'm not a human being. Anatoly: I can't beat him, he's too good. Freddie: He can't beat me, I'm too good. Molokov: Yes Anatoly, play with his mind. Freddie: Don't fall for his cheap mindgames. Florence: Don't fall for it Freddie, he's desperate Walter: Cue the light buzzing. Freddie: Ignore the light buzzing. Anatoly: I dream of home and freedom. I dream of defecting, but I'm too much of a coward to defect. Freddie: I was the US champion at age eleven. Probably should have locked up my chessboard. I hate chess. I hate life scratching me. I wanna die. Anatoly: I wanna die. I don't know my children nor my wife, I never have, just as my parents knew me. Walter: Louder! Freddie: Buzzing. Florence: Damn it! Molokov: He made a mistake, it's working Anatoly. Walter: Louder!

Florence: I don't know, baby, I have a bad feeling about this interview. You should pull out. Anatoly: If I don't do it, it will look like I'm afraid of him. Florence: He's gonna come after you. He still wants to be in the game, even if he's not playing you, he still wants to play you. Anatoly: We both know why he's here. He wants to get you back. Florence: The last thing in the world I want is Freddie Trumper. You don't have do this interview to prove anything to me. Anatoly: I have to do this interview to prove to the world that I'm not here by a forfeit. Florence: Oh God, it's happening again! Anatoly: What is? Florence, continuing to make Choices: My life is being destroyed by chess, why can't I love a banker or a gardener or anybody else. Anatoly: You're all I want. I promise. Anddddd the championship Florence: Of course.

I just find this dialogue to be very bland, boring, and at times like a bootleg Joss Whedon. It's all kinda like this--too jokey and cynical and not genuine. I find it very jarring. Whatever Chess has been throughout its history, it has always been genuine. I feel like all these lines are written for the most immediate reaction, for the punchline, as opposed to building something true and beautiful.

Let's compare two similar sections of dialogue, one from Danny Strong, one from Richard Nelson.

Walter: It's not what I want, it's what I have to give. A video! I think you'll enjoy. Freddie: Unless it's lesbian porn, I'm not interested. vs Reporter: What a beautiful suite! What do you think of Budapest so far, Mr. Trumper? Freddie: Anyone with legs like that can call me Freddie. (She uncrosses her legs.) That’s a joke, okay? (He gets up.) Jesus Christ, you been here how long? A couple of days! And already you’ve lost your sense of humor. See what Communism does to you?

One of these is a punchline. It's a quick quip that doesn't really tell you anything more about the character. It doesn't come up again. Freddie harassing the reporter tells us a lot about him. He wants her to like him, he wants praise, he wants to be puffed up. He wants her to laugh at his jokes, and he wants to be told he's funny. He wants proof that he can get a woman after Florence walked out on him. Meanwhile, I don't think the lesbian porn moment tells us anything other than that Freddie watches lesbian porn. A lot of the moments in the show are like this. Quips are not inherently bad--but the whole show is mostly made out of quips.

I also really really really hate how this show handles politics and political humor. The 2022 Choncert leaned really hard on (now dated) political humor mostly from The Arbiter, including jokes about Freddie's last name. It had a big imbalance of jokes over drama, and they again, never felt genuine.

This show is also just extremely extremely MURICA in how it handles the Soviet Union, far more than the actual original American production literally written during the Cold War. The Soviet Union in this production is a CARTOON--Anatoly is frequently threatened or worried about being killed if he loses at chess. The Russian chess champion before him, Boris Ivanovich, is heavily implied to have been killed for losing to Trumper. Strong. Buddy. You can look up what happened to the famous 1980s Russian chess players. Most of them are still alive in Russia! Even the ones who defected didn't get disappeared! They didn't get sent to the Chess Player Vat!

The stakes also just become RIDICULOUS in this version. We begin with chess players getting murdered for being bad at chess, and we end with RUSSIA MOBILIZING THEIR MILITARY BECAUSE ANATOLY WINS THE CHAMPIONSHIP. In this universe, the outcomes of SALT II and the 1983 nuclear weapon crisis are explicitly impacted by fucking chess!! SALT II falls apart because Anatoly defects!!! It's so stupid!!!! It ends up making it so that the Soviet Union is willing to nuke the world because they lost at chess. A large part of the second act involves the US doing training exercises that the USSR see as a threat, so they demand Anatoly lose at chess, or else they mobilize. It is so stupid!!!! Just such bad history!!!

The timeline and characters of the show are also negatively impacted by the increased focus on politics! We now have a four year time gap over intermission, from 1979 to 1983, and it sure doesn't feel like it with the characters. It's jarring because with the emotional state of the characters, it feels like it's been a couple months, not four years. And a couple months can work in Chess! But not if it's really four years, and we haven't put in the work to understand how the characters would necessarily change because of it. Molokov is now really high up in the KGB, and he's just a cartoon. Walter comes across as a better person because he is the one in the Waltokov relationship going "holy shit let's not blow up the world because of chess." The dynamic of the KGB and CIA being equally bad is utterly lost. Politics take focus over people in this Chess, and not for the better in the slightest.

Especially because Florence gets her dad back??? It's so so so jarring because it's a really out of place happy ending, and her father was not a focus for this Florence. Long Beach Chess made Florence getting her dad back work, but that was with very specific choices. This Chess has not made those choices. We also just do not have any emotional attachment to her father, so this big happy ending just falls utterly flat.

Now we get to the part of the show that makes me actually angry. The depiction of mental illness with Freddie Trumper. Everything else, I do not like, but it just makes me roll my eyes. The mental illness stuff makes me blindingly angry. By giving Freddie a diagnosed, specific illness, now it comes across like his asshole behavior is exclusively because of that illness, that Florence is right to leave her mentally ill partner who can barely function without her. He loses the first match because of sensory issues (he can't focus with the lights buzzing.) His medication is treated as a magic trick that automatically fixes him (he takes his pills and instantly calms down.)

And again!!! Florence steals his pills!!! She takes his vital medication from him!!! Here is a video of that.

https://www.tumblr.com/hellyrigs/703555453692624896/another-bad-moment-from-chess-dec-12-2022-no?source=share

Also the two productions thus far have alternatively described him as bipolar or schizophrenic, and they write him the exact same with both, so they're just flat up conflating two different mental illnesses without any care.

Danny Strong won an Emmy for Dopesick; listening to his Chess, it's hard to believe he knows how drugs work.

There are a few things I like in Strong Chess. Opening with US vs USSR is a striking choice, certainly better than starting with Story of Chess. Freddie hitting Florence with "Do you wanna fuck him?" right before Budapest is Rising is effective. Florence risking getting deported if she doesn't keep Freddie in line has the potential to be compelling.

However, I just hate it. I don't like it. I wish it wasn't the book for the revival. Again, they could fix it, it could be better. But here are my reservations as of now. I also worry that this will become the New Fandom Chess, or that this version could replace previous productions in licensing. I doubt those things would happen, but I still fear them.

But fundamentally, we'll just have to see what happens!

[weneeya]

Hellooooo, love the way you characterize zanka!!! It's really nice to see someone writing about gachiakuta <3 I was wondering if you could write about Zanka having a crush on medic!reader but they are 3 years older than him and he always tries to act mature to impress them and all, and everyone thinks it's so cute how he always follows them like a lost puppy. You can completely ignore this if it makes you feel uncomfortable!!

as cool as you m.list | rules

pairing. zanka x reader

note. hiii! thank u sm for ur kind words it makes me so happy to know people love my zanka (i love him sm i'm glad to do him honor) i love ur idea sm?? i can imagine him always trying to act cool and all, i hope you'll like what i did <3

Saying that Zanka wanted to impress you was an euphemism. The boy had always been the type of person who wanted to look cool in front of the people he admired, and you were no exception to this rule. In fact, it seemed to be even worse with you than with anyone else. Perhaps it was because of the crush he never wanted to admit out loud, or because you were older than him, but Zanka needed you to recognize him as a man. A cool one. 

You were a medic, which meant you stayed at the HQ most of the time. Zanka wished you were coming to missions with him ; it was the best way to show you how great he was. Each time he came back from a mission without being hurt, he almost immediately rushed to where you were so he could tell you about it. 

Not that he would admit it, though. He always played it cool in front of you. He acted like it was a coincidence that you both met every time he came back. And as you were always asking him about how it had been going, he could tell you all the things he had done. The truth was that you were well aware that Zanka loved to tell you about his stories, so it was all too natural for you to just ask him about it. 

Today was no different. He came back from a pretty long mission with Enjin, Rudo and Gris. The engine didn’t even have the time to stop when Zanka was already getting out of the car. He glanced around, noticing you getting out of the building with Riyo to welcome the team. He immediately shifted his position to a more natural one, clearing his throat as you walked towards him with your usual sweet smile. 

Enjin and Gris were getting out of the car too, followed by Rudo who didn't understand Zanka’s weird behavior. He looked at him with a lost expression as he began to explain what happened during the mission. Enjin and Gris were on each side of Rudo, the first man chuckling at Zanka’s behavior. 

“He’s trying to impress them,” explained Gris when he noticed the confused look on Rudo’s face. The boy looked up at the driver. Slowly, the words registered in his mind until he opened his eyes wide, looking back at you and Zanka. Oh. Everything made a lot more sense now. Enjin was still laughing at Zanka who was too busy focusing on you to even care. 

And as always, you began to sing praises about Zanka and how good of a fighter he was. The light blush on the tip of his ears didn’t go unnoticed, but you made no remarks about it ; making him uncomfortable was the last of your wishes. You still asked him to follow you to the infirmary so you could check if he was really completely okay. And so he did. 

You had your back turned at him, searching for some stuff in a closet while he was sitting on a chair not far behind. His eyes seemed unable to look away from you. You were so perfect, he couldn’t understand how it was even possible. You were the best medic out there, he was sure of it, and you were also the sweetest person he ever met in his whole life. 

Always taking care of everyone, making sure everyone was good and heard. Zanka was beginning to think that you might be an angel sent as a gift on this rotten planet. What else could it be? He secretly hoped that you were thinking he was as cool as you were, or at least not so far behind. 

When you turned around slowly, he looked away from you, acting like he wasn’t completely staring at you the whole time. He was a good actor, or at least he thought he was. He didn’t care what the others thought anyway. If he was someone cool in your eyes, it was more than enough. You walked closer, starting to examine him as you kept asking him about the mission for a moment. Until the silence slowly fell. 

It wasn’t uncomfortable. He loved the silence, especially with you. You had a soft aura around you that made his whole being relax. “You know,” you began to say, and his eyes immediately focused back on you, all his attention directed at your voice. “I really think you’re great. I saw you with Rudo, I’m sure you’re helping him a lot.” 

He felt his heart skipping a beat at your words, and he wanted to scream into a pillow ; but he kept his usual cool demeanor. Well, maybe not as cool as usual, but still. Your words had hit him differently. It always did when you were praising him, but hearing you say he was good with others too made him grow wings. 

It might be sweet nothings to you, but in his mind, it meant the world. Knowing you recognized him this much could have driven him mad. He smiled slightly when he met your eyes, shrugging his shoulders like it was nothing. “I’m doing what I can,” he said, and it made you chuckle softly. The sound felt like a sweet melody to his ears, one he could never get tired of. 

“As always,” you replied. You weren’t blind, and you were more than aware that Zanka wanted to impress you. Everyone knew it, but you were the only one to play along. You knew it made him happy to hear your praises about him, and you loved to praise him anyway. He deserved it, and you would never grow tired of it. 

Perhaps you were more than just impressed by him, but things were good this way, and you didn’t want to take the risk of ruining anything ; just like him. You both thought it was nice to stay like this, at least for a little longer.

thank you <3

[ladylovesloki]

To Hel and Back

The Fated Apple Universe

Chapter Three: The Forest

Warnings: Mature Content ((ONLY 18+)) I am not going to get specific on warnings because I don't want to spoil certain things so enter at your own risk. Nothing too dark I promise, mostly smut and language.

A/N: I know I said no summaries but I will say that we get some of our boy in this chapter. As always, thanks for reading 💚 Enjoy💚

The Fated Apple Universe

To Hel and Back: Chapter One: The Vacuum

To Hel and Back Chapter Two: The Jump

Loki knew he was dead the moment it happened.

It wasn’t the injury itself, though the pain was excruciating in that moment. 

No.

It was his bond with his fated that made him completely certain that he was dead.

The absence of your essence was more painful than the killing blow itself.

Loki sits up and looks down, seeing the armor he was wearing when he was alive but no wound. He looks around and all he can see is an open field, bright green grass and far off in the distance he sees the biggest tree he has ever seen. And just in front of the tree was a small…cottage.

Nothing remarkable about it. Just a small cottage home, the most notable thing about it was that it was being dwarfed by the massive tree standing tall behind it. Almost like it was guarding it.

Loki takes another look around but a sound makes his head snap back to the cottage. It was the sound of laughter. But not just any laughter.

It was yours.

Your sweet laugh that never fails to bring a smile to his face.

For a moment he felt a brief spark of joy but then it’s replaced by absolute fear. He wished he studied more about fated bonds. Would Y/N die when he did?! Gods no. The Norns were being cruel enough.

The idea that Mina would lose her mother and father in one swoop breaks Loki’s heart. He hears your laughter again, forcing his attention back to the cottage.

“Y/N!”, he yells across the massive field.

Nothing. 

He walks toward the cottage but it doesn’t seem like it’s getting any closer. Loki stops a moment and then looks back from where he came. He could’ve sworn he walked at least a mile by now..

Before he could give it another thought, he hears your laugh again but this time when he looks to the cottage he sees a woman walk out the door and what looks like a baby swaddled in her arms.

Loki squints his eyes to see if he could get a better look. All he can make out is the color of the dress that the woman is wearing, green of course, and the color of her hair. Your color hair..

The confusion of the cottage seemingly not getting any closer evaporates and Loki just continues to walk forward. Your laugh his only beacon.

——————————————————————————————————————————

When you and Jane were kids you would all go to Maine for family vacations and your mom used to make sure you and Jane were never alone around heavily wooded areas. The forests were so thick and at night if you didn’t know where you were going it was very possible you were never getting out of it.

This forest reminds you of those family vacations. 

Except worse.

Thank goodness you had Thor, a literal God and your daughter who was the child of the strongest seidr wielder in all of the nine. Thankfully, Mina conjured floating orbs of light that surrounded your group, lighting your path forward.

The orb in front is also acting as a guide to where your group apparently needed to go to find the Norns. How? You’re still not entirely sure. You asked Mina how the orbs of light knew which direction to go and she just looked at you with the same bored look Loki used to give you when you asked him what he considered “ridiculous” questions.

“It knows which way to go because I know which way to go mom…”

“Ok..kkayyy..but how do you know which way to go?”

“It’s whats on the map in dad’s book.”

You nod, “uh huh..did you look at any other books before you decided to just jump at this one?…literally.”

Mina gets quiet and just continues to walk straight.

You put your hand on her shoulder, “Mina…tell me you did some more digging and this one book wasn’t your only proof that we would find the Norns here.”

Mina looks at you nervously and then starts picking at her fingers.

Just like Loki.

“Mina..”

She finally looks up at you and Thor, “this was the only thing I found about how to get to the Norns…”

You close your eyes, “Mina..”

“I know mom but this was our only chance! And there wasn’t any time to go debate about it. Idunn already seemed against the idea and I knew that if she said that it couldn’t be done then you wouldn’t even try..”

“So what? You were going to just come here alone? What if it didn’t work? What if you jumped off that bridge and died. I would have had to bury you and your father within hours of each other! Did you think about that?!”

“No mom I didn’t! You know why?! Everyone has told me since the day I could wield seidr that I was my fathers daughter. That I will be as strong if not stronger than him, that I am just as intelligent as him and yet no one trusts me when I say that I know this is going to work. I FEEL it."

You take a deep breath to try and calm you both down. Arguing about the situation will get them nowhere. All you can do now is do what your daughter is asking you to do and pray you were making the right decision.

“Ok Mina. I trust you…do you know how much further?”

She turns back to the direction they were headed and opens the book to the map inside.

The orb of light leading the way hovers over Mina’s shoulder and it sends a small beam of light to the page, highlighting where they currently were.

“Based off of where we started and where we are now…we have maybe another days worth of walking.”

“We should make camp for the night, we will need to eat as well.”, Thor suggests.

Mina nods, “I can take care of all that, let’s find a good spot.”

After about a ten minute walk off the path, you all find a good spot to make camp. Mina holds out her hands and closes her eyes, you look over to the spot that has her concentration and the once empty spot now has a medium size tent and a small pit for a fire.

“Thor use your sparkle magic and make a fire. Stop letting my kid do all the work.”

Thor gives you a small smile and then kneels down next to the pit. He touches his fingers together, creating a little spark that starts the fire. 

Mina kneels down next to him and gives him a pat on the back, “thanks Uncle Thor.”

He leans over and kisses her forehead, “of course. Please tell me my brother taught you to conjure something edible…”

“I think I can figure something out.”, she smiles the same sly smile her dad gifted her with. She closes her eyes again and now on the fire is a spit with what looks like a rabbit on it. 

“Bless you child.”, Thor looks at the juicy rabbit, ready to rip it right off the spit.

You sit down next to Mina and rub her back, “I’m so proud of you baby. I know your dad would be too.”

Mina leans her head against yours, “thanks mom..”

The three of you sit in a comfortable silence, watching the flames lick up the dinner your daughter has provided. The three of you not knowing what is awaiting them when they finally get to the Norns.

——————————————————————————————————————————

“Odin.”

“Frigga.”

Frigga approaches her husband as he lays in their great bed, a few missives lay on his lap. She hasn’t told him about what has transpired in the last few hours. She wasn’t quite sure how she was going to get him to postpone the funeral proceedings for Loki.

She gets to Odin’s side of the bed and looks down at her husband, “husband.”

Odin looks up with his one eye, “wife.”

“Something has happened..”

“Oh you mean my son, daughter in law and grandchild jumping off the bridge in order to reach the Norns to attempt to bring Loki back?…Is that the something you are referring to?”

Frigga doesn’t respond verbally. She just nods.

Fucking Heimdall.

“And you have come here to ask me to postpone Loki’s funeral yes?”

Frigga looks down, “if there is a chance..”

“My love…Loki is gone. What we must pray for now is the safe return of Thor, Y/N and Mina..”

Frigga nods in understanding, a tear slipping out of her eye before she could catch it. She lifts her hand to wipe it away but Odin catches it before she could. He stands from the bed, Frigga now has to look up at her husband, her warrior God that would burn realms down for her but could also gently cradle his granddaughter in his arms to calm her to sleep. He reaches up and cups her face in his hands with that same gentle touch, his thumbs wiping her tears away.

“I will postpone the announcements and the funeral rites..but there is only so long we can wait my love…”

Frigga nods again and gives Odin a sweet, grateful kiss. “Thank you My King.”

Odin lays his forehead against hers, “anything for you My Queen. Anything.”

——————————————————————————————————————————

Idunn walks into Loki’s viewing room. She left a few hours ago to go get settled in one of the palaces many guest rooms, but she felt something pulling her back to Loki’s side.

She walks up the steps and stands above Loki’s body. She stares down at his face in deep contemplation.

“Why? Why did they cut your thread…?”, she asks out loud to herself.

Idunn felt slightly better after she admitted to the Queen that she has not been able to reach the Norns. The weight of carrying such a secret getting very heavy for the Goddess. As she stares down at Loki she doesn’t realize she’s crying until a few tears fall onto his arm. The sound of her tears hitting leather make her eyes snap to the liquid.

She reaches up to her eyes and wipes a tear away in shock. She can’t remember the last time she shed a tear from grief.

‘Your Grace..”

A small voice makes Idunn turn around to face the door, “yes child?”, she asks the small lady.

“Heimdall has requested your presence Your Grace..”

She smiles at the young lady, “thank you. The observatory I presume?”

“Yes Your Grace.”

Idunn nods and turns back to Loki, she takes in his form one last time and then leans down to whisper in his ear, “rest well fated one.” She places a kiss on his brow but as soon as her lips touch his skin there was a blinding light in her vision.

Idunn closes her eyes to try and clear her vision but there was a high pitched whistling sound that was also throwing off her balance. She places her hands over her ears to try and block out the dreadful sound.

She’s so disoriented she doesn’t register someone is shaking her. The high pitched whistling sounds like its getting further and further away and every blink makes her vision clearer. She sees a dark blob in front of her which eventually turns into a person.

When her vision finally clears enough to see a face her heart almost stops beating.

It was Loki.

An alive Loki.

Standing in the middle of a field. 

“Idunn?”

“Loki?...”

——————————————————————————————————————————

“My Queen!!”

A loud knock on the door pulls Frigga away from Odin’s comforting embrace. “What in the nine?”

“Enter!”, Odin calls out.

The door bursts open and Heimdall enters in a panic, “Allmother! Allfather! You must come with me to the healers wing!”

“Heimdall? What has happened?”

“Goddess Idunn collapsed by Prince Loki’s bedside. Eir is assessing her now.”

“Gods!”, Frigga doesn’t waste a moment and opens a portal straight to the healers wing where she sees Eir and her healers working around Idunn, Odin and Heimdall close behind her.

“Eir.”, Frigga approaches the soul forge holding Idunn.

“Allmother. Forgive me I just need a moment.”, Eir doesn’t even look back to the approaching Queen, too focused on her work.

“What was she doing when she collapsed?”, Odin asks Heimdall.

“I sent word to her to meet me in the observatory, that same messenger was supposed to ask you and The Queen to meet me there as well. I have seen Thor and the Princesses.”

“You have?”, Frigga whips around.

Odin holds out his hand to calm his wife, “we will get to that My Queen.”, he looks back to Heimdall to continue.

“The girl said that she informed the Goddess Idunn of my summons, she turned to Prince Loki, placed a kiss to his brow and then collapsed.”

Frigga looks to Odin, confusion and anxiety all over her face, “something isn’t right..what of Thor and the girls?”

Heimdall nods, “I cannot see where they have landed but they are somewhere in deep woods.”

Frigga releases the breath she was holding, “thank the Gods for that at least.” She looks back to Eir working on a still unconscious Idunn. She makes a silent prayer to the Norns for her family but if what she fears is true…the Norns might not be there to hear her…

—————————————————————————————————————————

Your back is on fire.

Sleeping in the tent was not the most enjoyable experience and the guilt that is tearing through you right now is intense.

How did Loki get any sleep since you both have been together? It has been a very long time since Mina slept in the same room as you and Loki so you have not heard how her snoring has progressed over the last year or so because my god..

It brings back memories of the train passing by your apartment in New York. For such a small girl she has a deep guttural snore. 

Apparently much like your own according to Loki.

“Mina..”

You nudge her when calling her name didn’t do it. 

“Mina..”, she nudges you again. 

Nothing.

“MINA!”

Mina shoots up, a half snore rips through her nose and shouts, “FINKLE AND EINHORN!”

You look at her and smile at her disheveled state, her braid has long fallen apart and hair is sticking out in all crazy directions, one eye is open the other about half way there. “You need to stop watching Ace Ventura before you go to bed.”

“It’s a classic. Jim Carrey movies are my comfort movies.”, Mina responds with a stretch. “Where’s Uncle Thor?”

You shrug, “lets go see.”

You both leave the tent and see Thor sitting by the fire with what looks like fish cooking on the spit.

“Hope you’re hungry..”, Thor invites you both to join him by the fire.

“Just a little..we should get moving soon.

You nod and Thor hands you some of the cooked fish, since he didn’t wait for Mina to conjure anything it was severely lacking flavor from seasonings but you weren’t going to complain. You were thankful that he was here, you don’t know what you would’ve done if he wasn’t. As soon as you get the fish down you could already feel the protein working its way through your body, giving you more energy.

You’d kill for some coffee though.

Once you were all done eating breakfast, Mina makes their camp disappear, like they were never there.

Mina opens her book and conjures the same orbs from yesterday. Once again, one of the orbs hovers over the map on the page and then starts to move in the direction we were supposed to be moving toward. 

“So what are we going to see when we get there? Wherever there is..”, you ask.

“Well I expect to see Yggdrasil, all of the books I have read about the Norns say that they reside at the roots.”, Mina answers.

All of a sudden Thor stops walking, you almost run right into his big back, “Thor?”

“Shh.”, he holds up his hand.

You heart starts to pound, you weren’t built for something like this. You never went on adventures or missions so when Thor reacted the way that he did you immediately start to sweat.

“Stay behind me. Do. Not. Move.”, Thor instructs.

“Thor? What is it?”, you ask in a panic.

“MOVE!”

Thor turns and shoves you and Mina down to the ground, a massive beast flies over your head and lands on its feet a few feet from where you are now laying on the ground. Mina, who was in the back of the group was on the ground next to you, closer to the beast.

You brave another look at it and see that its a big ass cat. It looks like a panther from back on Earth but much larger…everything.

It was twice the size of a normal panther, the teeth were massive and you can’t help but notice the blood that was already leaking from them. Hopefully he ate recently…

Thor moves to stand in front of you and Mina, you’re hoping between the two of them, they will all survive this encounter.

“Don’t move.”, Thor whispers, holding his hand out behind him.

“Wasn’t planning on it.”, you whisper back.

Thor calls his lightning, his eyes are the first things that show his building power and then the sky that you can see through the trees starts to darken and rumble. You look down at the hand Thor has extended behind him and you can see electricity on his fingertips.

“My, my. We are a rude group aren’t we..”, the panther goes from an attack position to a seated one. Like a house cat waiting for a treat.

The three of you are frozen from shock. It even looks like the lightning on Thor’s fingertips and eyes pause and then slowly start to retreat. The sound of thunder starts to roll away and the little slivers of gray sky are now turning blue.

“Umm.”, Mina is the first to react to the talking creature.

“I’m assuming you can use more words besides ummm yes?”, the panther….cat….thing asks.

The three of you just nod.

“Wonderful..Do any of you wish to explain why you are trudging through my forest?”

“Your forest?”, Mina steps forward but your grab her wrist and pull her back to you.

“Yes MY forest. What are you doing here?”

“We came to see the Norns.”, Thor answers.

“HA! You and thousands of other souls that have come to search for them. Allow me to guess…someones dead?..”

Again the creature is met with silence.

“I must say if you are trying to get to your destination alive I suggest someone answers me.”

Thor steps up again, “yes. My brother.”

“Hmff. I suggest you go back to where you came from. You clearly do not have what is required.”

The panther turns to leave but your panic makes you stop him, “wait!”

The panther stops and turns his head back to you, waiting for you to speak.

“Wait….It wasn’t just his brother. He was also my fated.”

The panther turns around fully, “truly? The Norns cut the thread of one of their beloved fated?…well that settles it..”

“Settles what exactly?”, Mina asks.

“That something has befallen the Norns..”

“What makes you say that?”, you ask.

“The forest is..dying. I just so happen to be on the way to visit with the Norns myself to get some answers, but if what you’re saying is true…”, the panther begins to pace back and forth. “The Norns claim they have no favorites but then explain fated ones to me? To cut the thread of one of their precious chosen ones? They would never…unless”, the panther stops his pacing along with his speech.

“Unless?…”, you brave interrupting his thought.

“Unless it wasn’t truly them that cut your fated ones thread..”

——————————————————————————————————————————

“Idunn?”

“Loki?…Where am I?”

“I wish I could tell you.. I am still trying to figure that out myself. I thought I was dead.”

“You are.”

Loki looks at her in surprise, “then you are…?

“Dead? Yes? No? Possibly? I am not certain. I was in your viewing room and I was standing by your body. I placed a kiss on your brow and it seems to have transported me here..”

Loki was looking at Idunn but then something seems to pull his attention away from her.

“Y/N”, he whispers. So low. So quiet, Idunn almost missed it.

Loki turns and starts to walk but Idunn reaches out and grabs his wrist to stop him. “Wait, My Prince..where are you going?”

He turns and looks at Idunn and then points in the opposite direction, “there..do you see it?”

Idunn looks in the direction that Loki is pointing to but sees nothing. She looks back to Loki’s face who is staring off into the distance again, like he was staring at his salvation. “Loki..I don’t see anything..”

He looks to Idunn, “just there, you don’t see it? Can you not hear her?”

Idunn looks back to the empty field of green grass and vast blue sky. But she sees nothing in the distance and she only hears the sound of wind. She takes Loki’s hand in hers, “what do you see My Prince? What do you hear?”

Loki looks back to Idunn with tears in his eyes, “my fated.”

To be continued…..

Tag List: Please let me know if you would like to be added or if I am missing you 💚

@eleniblue @wolfsmom1 @talesofadragon @skittslackoffilter @setangel

[ravenbloodshot]

Hello! Idk if you saw about Aespa going viral for white painting on their bodies. Tbh Aespa girls are becoming more and more uncanny looking by years. A lot of white painting, bleaching and they look like a wax doll which is even worse because they already have a pale skin to start with especially Winter and Karina. Also infamous Karina AI jaw and current Giselle plastic surgery is looking very weird like the lip fillers and botox are kinda getting outta hand. Only Ningning looks normal in the group now. It's not just me all users on tiktok and reddit are agreeing about this also. I'm worried about the girls because SM is known to force their idols to go under surgery and it's in contract. Can you tell us this is what girls want or are they forced? What do you think?

Let's see...

What I'm seeing is interesting. I see that they view their plastic surgery and their attempts to better fit the beauty standards as a necessity to survive. Like I'm literally seeing that the entire purpose of it is to suit/fulfill the male gaze or wants. To better find a mate and be better off socially, financially, or whatnot. (What I'm picking up sounds barbarian, but they want better appearances to have a better pick of men romantically). Also, career wise, they and their company want the male fans to find them beautiful so they're doing whatever they can to make that happen and cash in on that.

I'm also picking up a copy and paste vibe. So I definitely think there's a blueprint for how the girls should appear. (There are theories that SM has an exact plastic surgery look they like to replicate, and there's likely some truth to that). I wouldn't be surprised if SM had a naturally beautiful female or male idol that they uphold as their beauty standard for idols now. (For example, Kim jaejoong, etc...).

I'm not exactly seeing that they've been forced to alter their appearance. It's likely they already knew their natural looks wouldn't have gotten them very far in the industry, so they were more than willing to change that for better opportunities. Though, I will say that they were picked apart and judged heavily . SM didn't hold back when it came to critiquing their looks. (Reminds me of how Twice members were judged and insulted during their survival show, its a very common practice in the idol industry)

I do see some regret. Mostly regret for getting work done so young. I heard, "I wish i waited till I was more mature and could make better decisions."

When it comes to the skin bleaching accusations. Their energy is completely avoidant. I keep getting cards that basically mean that they don't want to think about it or speak about it. So, I wouldn't be surprised if there's a hidden feeling of shame or embarrassment. Even if a friend or loved one was to discuss this topic with them, I doubt they would answer anything directly. Everything about this energy is so "hush, hush."

[masterj]

Watching SLOTLT:

....Okay... we need to talk about Sodor's Legend Of The Lost Treasure. Many TTTE fans love it and call it "the best special" and "the peak of CGI Thomas." But we need to face facts. It's far from everyone's favorite and actually the Most Controversial of CGI Thomas.

My stance? I say people who don't like SLOTLT are right- just for not for the valid reasons. Prepare to be roasted.

The movie heavily flanderizes Thomas and ruins his character development throughout the series. It practically takes everything that made him unlikable in the Miller era and turned him back into a complete, 100% irresponsible idiot. Take The Great Discovery, a special VERY similar in plot for example. After his trick on Stanley that demolishes the tower, he actually shows full remorse and tries to make up for his mistake.

In Lost Treasure, that is not the case. Here at the start of the movie he's just like, "I'm number one so I can do what I want!"

And it's not until THE DAY AFTER the Dynamite Incident that it finally sinks in and he's like "Aw it was my fault..."

Plus, he would've been mature enough by now not to let Gordon's teasing get to him. In Season 5, he literally tells Percy to just ignore George's insults and simply does just that.

Why are insults such a big deal to him NOW that he has to run of with Gordon's coaches and derail them??? This doesn't make sense! Yes, he is meant to be cheeky, but how the hell do we go from how he's written in Tale Of The Brave to this?!

So much dumb shit happens that could've and should have been easily avoided. The accidents Thomas cause would've have been stopped in a heartbeat if they ACTUALLY REMEMBERED drivers and firemen exist. When Thomas falls into the cavern? HOW THE HELL are they so unaware of the workmen shouting trying to stop them?! How do they not once look where he is going and see the signs?!

They're not even trying! Look at them in the cab! Up until the accident happens they're practically just chillin'! You're not fooling anybody! Are they high on crack in there??? Are they paying rent in there??? Do they just spontaneously go blind and deaf??? Hello?!?! Wake up and control your fucking train!!!

Let's cut back to the coaches. WHY is Thomas shunting Gordon's coaches when that is NOT his job anymore now that he has his branchline?! That's the whole reason the big engines went on strike and Percy was brought to the railway! Topham has HOW many shunters now? And you're SERIOUSLY gonna tell me not a single one could've done it instead? Look how empty Knapford is!

What about the Diesel Boxcab introduced this season? Why isn't he in this movie to do that instead? Did he die?

Overall, SLOTLT is just a pointless Great Discovery rehash sprinkled with stale RWS references, (which help set up this movie's god awful plot in the first place) returned characters, and cinematic visuals and music pretending it's actually a good movie with a likeable plot. Not only does it take the three-strike formula and fail miserably at making it good, (The three accidents Thomas causes) it can't even remember the show's continuity properly for God's sake! For a what's supposed to be a tribute to the RWS, this is not a good look at all, Andrew Brenner. You did not cook.

What's even worse is that for all these years everyone in this fandom just blindly glazes over everything this movie does wrong and then act like it's illegal for someone not to like it and it's disgusting. This movie single-handedly damaged the entire TTTE fandom for 10 years. 10. FUCKING. YEARS.

We already had a special that did this kind of plot so much better in every way. WHY are we doing it AGAIN??? Why wasn't The Adventure Begins enough for this year???

We did not need this. We did not need any of this shit. Just skip to Season 20 and you are not missing too much, I promise you. Peak CGI Thomas my ass. HALF the CGI specials are the least bit more deserving than this shitshow.

This movie sucks. We do not speak of it, I'm done talking about it, it's not canon, it doesn't deserve to be, it never existed. It's dead to me.

All it's got going for it are the visuals, voice acting and music, Donald, Douglas, Alfie and Oliver, Max, Monty, and Daisy returning, and the Miniature Engines introduced. That's it.

Just because a movie looks 'cinematic' does not automatically make it good.

[yoongis-property]

SEONGHWA FIC RECS

last update: 07.31.2023

m- mature , f- fluff , a- angst , c- crack/humor, ☆- personal favorite

e2l- enemies to lovers, s2l- strangers to lovers, f2l- friends to lovers, bf2l- best friends to lovers, cf2l- childhood friends to lovers, fwb2l- friends with benefits to lovers, ex2l- exes to lovers, i2l- idiots to lovers

MASTERLIST

⇢ A DIRTY LITTLE SECRET by @hwa-whiskers​ (fuckboy!sh, roommate!au, a, m)

❝ Having a crush on your roommate who was the fuckboy of your university was bad enough, but what gets worse is when he brings other women home and you secretly masturbated upon hearing them that night, wishing it were you instead. But how will it unfold when Seonghwa finds out? ❞

⇢ A KNIGHT`S TALE by @kitten4sannie​ (dragon shifter!sh, knight!reader,  fantasy!au, light a, m)

❝ a knight is ordered by the king to save the princess from a fearsome dragon. this, of course, is a common fairy tale with a predictable ending — but what happens when there’s more to the story than meets the eye? ❞

⇢ ADDICTING KITTEN by @tenelkadjowrites​ (m, f, light a)

❝ When your car breaks down and your phone is dead, you are stranded alone on the way home. However, when Seonghwa, the intimidating figure you see at the club often, comes by and offers you a ride, you cannot help but feel as if you might be walking into the lion’s den. ❞  

⇢ AEMULUS by @sluttywonwoo​​ (academic rival!au, fake dating!au, m, f)

❝ park seonghwa is in no position to ask you for a favor. but being underqualified for something has never stopped him before. ❞

⇢ AMAZING GRACE by @yoongiseesawmp3​ (f, a, m)

❝ you’re spending the summer at home after finishing school and you somehow get dragged into handling the baby nursery at church for the next two months. the only thing sweeter than the babies is your co-worker, park seonghwa. ❞

⇢ CHEAT CODES by @serendipityunho​ (m, a, college!au)

❝ "This party's boring, wanna get out of here?", may have perhaps led you to make the biggest mistake of your life by sleeping with your best friend's other best friend, your best friend who happens to be in love with you. ❞   

⇢ COMPANY by @atinyidea​ (hogwarts!au, f)

❝ “not many people would willingly choose my company” ❞

⇢ DAYDREAMING by @sluttywoozi​  (established relationship, f, m, ☆)

❝ Seonghwa gets a bit... distracted while working on his legos. ❞

pt. 2

⇢ DO NOT DISTURB by @hwasdvlly​ (established relationship, idol!au, f)

❝ its just a chill live stream, but something happens along the way ❞

⇢ DUNE by @hongism​​ (biker!sh, m)

❝ Your excursions with Seonghwa are never anything holy despite how sacred the time shared between you feels at times. ❞

⇢ ESSENCE by @whatudowhennooneseesyou​ (siren!sh, m, dark themes)

​ ❝ A siren rescues you from the plunder of a shipwreck, you're grateful for his mercy in letting you live. But at what cost? ❞

⇢ EVERYDAY AT THE BUS STOP by @tenelkadjowrites​ (f, m, s2l)

❝ your crush on fellow passenger, Seonghwa, changes into something new the day the bus breaks down. ❞

⇢ FIRST TIME by @ateezmakemeweep​ (established relationship, a, f, m)

❝ Seonghwa's been away for far too long and all you want to do is cuddle. Or so you think. ❞

⇢ GANG AU by @fantastic-bby​​ (gang!au, a, m)

❝ Seonghwa would never get on his knees for anyone… but you’re not just anyone to him. ❞

⇢ GENTLE by @cheollipop​​ (hybrid!au, m, f) feat. wooyoung

❝ desperate and whiny, your heat pheromones triggered wooyoung's feral instincts, forcing seonghwa to step in and teach him how to treat you properly. ❞

⇢ GROUPIE LOVE by @kitten4sannie​​ (guitarist!sh, m) 

❝ you'd do anything for your favorite guitarist. ❞

⇢ HOW YOU GET THE GIRL by @starrysvn​ (ex2l, f, light a)

❝ say it's been a long six months and you were too afraid to tell her what you want. and that's how it works, that's how you get the girl. and then you say; i want you for worse or for better, i would wait for ever and ever, broke your heart, i'll put it back together, i would wait for ever and ever. ❞

⇢ IN YOUR HANDS by @kitten4sannie​​ (vampire!au, m) kinda feat. mingi

❝ you meet someone that excites you again. ❞

⇢ JASMINE & BISCUITS by @daybreakx​ (hogwarts!au, f)

❝ You knew good things didn’t happen overnight. No matter how magical Hogwarts was, or how many problems a potion or a spell could solve, things didn’t work that way, especially when it came to feelings and relationships. ❞

⇢ LITTLE GREEN EYED MONSTER by @hee0soo​ (established relationship, light a, f)

❝ Studying with your boyfriend does not have a happy ending ❞

⇢ ME OR THE PS5 by @tohokuu​​ (established relationship, a, m)

❝ you hated black fridays. not because of the great sales, but because your boyfriend, seonghwa had finally gotten the time and money to buy himself a ps5. the long-awaited gaming console he had been gushing to you about forever.. ❞

⇢ MILKY WAY by @ad0rechuu​​ (sm!au, idol!reader, f, a) feat. san & mingi

❝ It’s not everyday that your friends childhood friend turns out to be the girl that you literally have a fan account for, but for Seonghwa, San and Mingi it’s become a reality. being able to get close to your bias is great! even if she does have a raging crush on someone else… ❞

unfinished!

⇢ MR. & MRS. PARK by @baekhvuns​ (mafia!au, a, m, light f)

❝ In which the task of killing your enemy is abruptly put on pause when you discover their cute little secret. ❞

⇢ ONE QUESTION by @tenelkadjowrites​ (established relationship, m) feat. mingi

❝ I was wondering how long it was into the friendship before the two of you realized that you want to sleep together?” ❞

⇢ PIRATE!SEONGHWA by @ateezmakemeweep​ (kinda e2l, a, f,  ☆)

❝ “is she alive?" "i don't know." "well check if she's breathing, you scalawag!" "wooyoung, i told you a million times not to talk like that!” "we're pirates, san, how can i no-"

the sound of you choking stops the boy's from bickering, eight pairs of eyes intently watching as salt water comes up from your lungs and spills down your chin. ❞

⇢ PLAYING NICE by @sa-honey (fake dating!au, e2l, a, f, m)

❝ when your date for your sister`s wedding at the last minute you`re left desperate for a replacement. An unlikely volunteer steps up and offers to fill the place. ❞  

⇢ PLAYING WITH FIRE by @ateezmakemeweep​​ (f, m, age gap, ☆)

❝ you first met park eunbi during your first year of college, when she walked through your dorm room with a smile on her face and her parents by her side - or, more notably to you, her incredibly handsome father.

that’s all he ever was to you though - your friend’s hot dad who you only ever saw a few times a year. but when you find yourself around him more and more often, your attraction growing and his eyes lingering, you suddenly find yourself in a situation you know is wrong but can’t seem to pull yourself out of. ❞  

⇢ PROPERLY by @tenelkadjowrites​​ (m, f, bf2l)

❝ Nervous about running into your ex at a party, your best friend Seonghwa has devised a plan to pretend that you are dating him. However, in acting as if you are together, the friendship begins to change course. ❞

⇢ READ FOR ME by @pirateprincessblog​ (best friend's father!sh, m, a, light f)

❝ you promised your friend. you asked for forgiveness and gave a promise that you wouldn't even look her father's way. it isn't your fault that you suck at keeping promises. ❞

⇢ SLEEP-TALKER by @mingigoo​ (vacation!au, one bed trope, m)

❝ When you and you friends decide on a trip tot he beach for spring break, you get stuck rooming with the man you „hate“ the most. The line between love and hate is as thin as ice, and you were about to break it. ❞  

⇢ SO OBLIVIOUS by @xxsanshinexx​ (fake fiance!au, f2l, f)

❝ “Seonghwa I need you to pretend to be my fiancé for the weekend.” Was the words that left your mouth as you burst through the door of your best friends apartment. ❞

⇢ SOME KIND OF DISASTER by @daybreakx​ (vacation!au, ex2l, a, f)

❝ San’s house was big enough to hold the seven people in the group comfortably. It was spacious and luxurious, and although abandoned for most of the year, it was kept in good shape. This wasn’t the first time you went to the beach house, it had become a tradition to go together every summer.. ❞

⇢ SUGAR RUSH by @sluttywoozi​ (baker!sh, s2l, f, light m)

❝ Bakery owner Seonghwa is sweet on you. ❞

⇢ THE BEST FRIENDS CODE by @tenelkadjowrites​ (m, bf2l) feat. hongjoong

❝ Hongjoong swears up and down that if you don’t touch each other, it won’t ruin the friendship...and what is the harm in blowing off some steam? ❞

seonghwa is in part 2 and part 3

⇢ THE SEAT NEXT TO HIS by @oldloveatz​ (college!au, f)

❝ you’ve had the biggest crush on your friend seonghwa, and either he was oblivious and only saw you as a friend, or he was really good at hiding his truest feelings. ❞

⇢ THE TROUBLE WITH ROOMMATES by @anyamaris​ (m, roommate!au)

❝ "Y/n!!" You hear your name being called and you sigh, pulling off your headset.  Should have gotten noise cancelling, you think and lean back in your chair.. ❞

⇢ UNDER THE LIGHTS by @mimikookie​ (vampire!sh, established relationship, f, m, light a)

❝ To Seonghwa, you're the most stunning person in his lifetime. He's so committed to you that he gifts you something very precious for your anniversary. ❞

⇢ WALLFLOWER by @tenelkadjowrites​​ (nerd!sh, coworker!au, m, f, ☆)

❝ Having not given much thought about your nerdy coworker, Seonghwa, all of that changes when you hear a rumor about his sexual prowess in bed. ❞

⇢ WEREWOLF!SEONGHWA MEETING HIS MATE by @you-did-well-moon​ (werewolf!sh, f, light a)

❝ You walked at a leisurely pace as the grass of the damp forest floor swayed and danced with you, seemingly reaching out to you by gently curling over the edges of your boots. An easy smile tugged at your lips at the comfort the forest brought to you. ❞

please like or reblog, it helps a lot :)

[mousathe14]

So as I mentioned before, Young Justice was interrupted by a whole “Sins of Youth” event where everyone’s ages were screwed up.

So we just finished Aquaman & Lagoon Boy as well as Batman & Robin’s stories

That’s still 4 more pillars of Young Justice left. So let’s see what Impulse is up to.

Dressing down Wally. This reversal is definitely something. How is Impulse a more mature adult than Wally is as an adult?

And yeah, Wally’s been going on about his honeymoon since the Jr. Justice League segment.

Superman and Batman are off protecting their cities, everyone else is trying to find solutions to their predicament, and all Wally can think about is his honeymoon.

I can understand wanting to tell Linda what happened but I don’t think that’s what his plans are.

Their relationship is fascinating and I’m glad the first thing he did after trying to get Wally to slow down was to see the most important person in his life, Max. Give him reassurance, bounce off ideas, like peer rather than a pupil/nuisance/weird family member.

I’m glad they get to have this moment, Max seeing Bart have maturity and smart ideas. Seeing the most important person in his life be a grown up.

I gotta get back to the Impulse comics of this era. I’m so far behind but man, the new art is painful to get through. But I gotta know what’s up with Max.

NOW! On to the funny bit.

Now that’s what I like to see, horror at this new state of affairs.

Since Linda is a reporter her plan is to use her connections to help put a positive spin on the heroes. But…

Boy’s got a honeymoon to get to. It’s almost all he talked about as soon as he got kid-ified.

Linda is not impressed. In fact she cannot stand the very idea of kissing this OG Teen Titan.

Wallace is right, he may be bad, but Aquaman is ten times worse.

You know, that’s a shoulder hug but it almost doesn’t look like it.

So the plan is for Wally and Bart to go on a worldwide media blitz, basically a publicity stunt to do a bunch of interviews over the course of mere minutes each. It doesn’t go well and it’s not particularly interesting.

Honestly this is the worst scene:

The idea that Bart’s aroace coding is because he isn’t old enough?

I recognize the council has made a decision, but given that it's a stupid-ass decision, I've elected to ignore it.

This isn’t even being done by one of his main writers, it’s being written by, lemmie check…

DWAYNE MCDUFFIE!?

You’re one of my heroes, man, how could you do this to me and to Impulse?

Okay, let’s cheer myself up with some Bart roasting Wally. He’s gonna be taller than Wally, that’s funny.

And he’s right, the piss costume is a bad costume. He looks like discount Reverse Flash. He looks like someone was trying to make a Reverse Flash costume from a thrift store. Why would you make your PRIMARY costume color look like Reverse Flash’s?

Impulse is right, Wally donning a Kid-Impulse costume is the way to go.

Also here’s a cute Red Tornado scene

I don’t know what he’s listening to but the fact that he kind of enjoys being a kid and he’s listening to some kind of rock and roll is really adorable.

The idea that Reddy feels cut off from his humanity is ridiculous. He couldn’t be more human right now.

So the rapid fire interviews don’t go well. Too busy being heroes.

But we end with this nice little scene.

Impulse shows how much he’ll grow, finding the rescuing of others to be more important than good press.

Which is very much in character anyway, Bart is many things but egotistical isn’t one of them. While Wally acknowledges that as one of his flaws.

Bart wouldn’t know what to do with the press other than be goofy or say “hi” to Max. He’s kind of a show off but entirely for his amusement because he still processes things like a video game.

But we finish this section off with Wally actually being sweet by comparing Bart to Barry, which is probably the nicest thing he’ll ever say to him (that’s not true, he’ll say nice things to him in The Flash comics of the era, eventually).

Man, everyone loves Barry so much, but I guess when you run yourself to death saving reality itself people can only have nice things to say about you.

I should consider reading the Flash Volume 1 but uh, if Wally is this little of a character as an adult I can’t imagine how much worse it would be for Barry in older comics.