#just to reaffirm themselves

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: slight questioning of gender identity / ]

Leo learning he’s trans and having various reactions to it.

1) Uncaring - not like anything really changed? It’s like learning your blood type. Leo is Leo, that’s all.

2) Existential - how the heck did he miss this for so long??? Wait is this gonna change his perspective of gender for himself or is he overthinking things??? He’s comfortable in his own skin and all but what if he’s not, actually? Should he think about this harder? Are there other things about himself he doesn’t know of yet-?

3) Peeved - what do you mean he could have had sick long claws and a cool long tail?

4) Relieved - WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE COULD HAVE LOST HIS STRIPES???

[dennisboobs]

i think everyone on sunnytwt needs to be sat down so i can explain to them what basic human empathy is. and then maybe i put them in a blender until they agree to write meta about the characters instead of whether or not charlie day got facial reconstruction surgery.

[todayisafridaynight]

cant stress how obsessed i am with yamaguchis shirt

[sysig]

A complete lack of catharsis (Patreon)

[3416]

Your tags - omg yes. The insanity over the extensions is just cruel. It's just HAIR. It also doesn't matter one way or another if Tessa wore the jacket or not but have you seen a picture of her wearing it?

i think i was mistaken seeing her in one, i thought she was in the bg of a pic bc i was scrolling fast, but EVEN STILL.. PEOPLE HAVE BEEN SUCH FREAKS. seeing someone launch into an essay abt why that makes her an independent thinker compared to the rest of the wags who are just leaning into patriarchal norms or some bullshitjs-- like ???? can you guys be normal about women for once in your lives? wearing jackets to support your athlete husband doing smth impressive is not...... like........ that serious.

the extension thing pissed me off to a new degree bc all the insinuations that everyone around her is evil and out to get her for not pointing it out to her in a random candid photo that they posted to their personal stories while they were on the move like hello?????????? clearly so many women online need help bc they project their own toxic and fucked up friendships onto random women attached to random hockey players like this, it's so batshit. i know wags are like known/expected to be the epitome of femininity and luxury and Know everything abt beauty and whatnot but they're also. just women with their own normal lives.... not everyone is so hyperfocused on their own aesthetic as it appears on the internet to us freaks, esp when they have their own social lives and families like holy FUCK. cannot believe how many people were thinking like that yesterday, i actually gagged.

[jellicle-chants]

two birds by regina spektor is the best demelonzo song change my mind

[wellthatschaotic]

say it with me: DON'T. MAKE. COMMENTS. ABOUT. SOMEONE'S. WEIGHT.

[san8ny]

‘HITTIN MY PHONE IS SO RIGHT !

?: You can’t seem to put an end to a salacious affair between you and your boss. However, lately with the new cameras being installed around units, it’s getting increasingly risky for you two. What’ll it be, your job or Abby’s? / A.A x Fem!Reader

!: hellurrrr.. xD haven’t proof-read this ngl bc my eyes hurt/ ALSO AN OLD DRAFT I HATE..im srry :P

“Fuckin’ hell..she’s just clamping onto me..” Abby coos from where her head is thrown back on the office chair; you, on her lap, rocking your hips deliciously into her, each snap feeling like a tidal wave of pleasure surging through Abby’s veins. You’d never in a hundred years think this would be a common event that took place between you and your employer after hours, a dirty secret that was buried deep within Abby’s Law-Firm.

“S-shitttt, don’t speak like that..” You whine, digits burying themself into Abby’s Golden locks when it seems like her pace speeds up; “Can’t when this messy cunt ‘s talking to me..” Abby takes a sharp inhale of air when you rip open the first two buttons of her blazer, scattering across the room.

“Not fair..’wanna take ‘em off..” You whine, wrapping your arms tighter around your lovers neck— soft tits pressed up into Abby’s face where she sneakily kisses around your areola, taking a nipple into her warm mouth, earning a weak huff from you.

“Shh..gotta be quiet, doll..can’t risk having you heard.” She whispers against your skin, pulling you down to press a messy kiss against your lips, “that I have ‘fuckin favorites…”; You shriek when she manages to slam you even harder on the XL strap, the one that’s tied oh-so-perfectly around her hips.

The buzzing on her desk brings her away from your lips and her attention instead, is on the lit-up phone, grabbing it with ease as she maintains a rhythm with how she bounces you, caller ID reading OWEN.

“Not this timing..” She groans, shushing your mewls once again when she takes your head and slightly angles it into her neck as an attempt to muffle your noises while she takes the call; “Get to the point.”

While she talks, you sink your teeth into her nape unexpectedly, illiciting a dirty, guttural moan from Abby to the point she almost lets the phone slip out of her grasp, “Uh..you okay?” Owen asks, confused at what was happening on the other end of the phone as he peels an orange; Abby hums at this, poorly trying to reaffirm Owen with eyes clenched closed as you leave harsh hickeys on her neck, ones she’d have to indefinitely cover up all week with series of collered pantsuits.

“P-please, ‘Abs..”You pant, saliva stretching from your quivering lips to her bruised neck. Abby pathetically caves in, murmuring mantras of ‘hear you, baby’ into the humid office air, head spinning and the call long forgotten as she throws it across the desk; her obsession with you ran deep, from the very moment you stepped into the office scene, all pencil skirts and painted lips— you were something she needed around here, and maybe the only thing that kept her hauled up in this shit-hole while all her other colleagues ran themselves into bankruptcy and alcoholism.

“I’ll give it to my sweet girl, ‘always do..ah—? S-she just needs to be ‘fuckin patient..” Abby’s breath hitching when you scrape your nailbeds across her, now, unclothed back. “You’re so—o ‘fuckin nasty..begging to fuck when they’ve installed surveillance every square inch of the damn place—love my pretty g-girl..”

“G-gna cum, pleaseee.. if you keep ‘talkin to me like t—this!” You stutter out with furrowed brows, annoyance and arousal a mixture when she picks you up and slams you directly against the desk now, a stark contrast to where you two were meekly teasing eachother earlier on her swivel chair but shit, does this angle make you take her even deeper..

After some time of her relentlessly pounding into you, and tears falling from your glossy eyes, down your full cheeks— you finally crack. This doesn’t end it, no, because after 2 orgasms ripped out of you— Abby leans down and kisses your cheek softly, her lips lingering condescendingly, “one more before we go, hm? Then we’ll clock out and i’ll take us home, baby”, all while two fingers work figure 8’s on your puffy clit, soothing you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Home?

You look at her up from heavy lidded eyes, sleep wanting to consume you completely but you oblige, mewling when Abby lowers herself to her knees and begins kitten-licking at your sensitive pussy; maybe you were obsessed with the blonde as much as she was with you, even if it could cost you both your jobs potentially one day.

[sweetnans]

love me already

Pairing: f. reader/bakugo katsuki Summary: dual POV where mc is tired of waiting for Bakugo to be truth and confess his feelings for her. tw: none. Just fluff and chaos.

"Y'know, I think I'll just tell Bakugo I like him." You were drunk, and a sort sense of boldness invaded you all of a sudden.

"Girl, don't do that." Mina put her hands on your bare thigh from your skirt ridden up. "Wait till you sober up"

You were hanging with Mina after a month of not seeing each other, being pro heroes tide up your schedule so you were out of reach most of the time, only reachable by the phone. You had a blast of a night, went clubbing, and drank while dancing like old times.

"He's playing with my mind, I swear," the words spurred out of your system, and you felt like you might start to cry in any second. "He's always sending texts and asking if I'm hurt after a fight and-"

"Hey! He doesn't do that to me!" Mina whined, putting her left hand above his heart.

"Exactly! He's this obsessive fucker who thinks he's better than everyone else, always so cocky and he had me wrapped around his fingers with the details that I know he only do to me, so obnoxious" you let a sigh trying to come down from your despertarion but something made you see red again. "And yet he never confessed! I'm tired Mina what if he's just playing with me and doesn't want anything serious just fuck with me and hop on to the next. Maybe he thinks I'm playing hard to get, and now I'm kind of a challenge to him, you know the bastard"

Now you were upset.

"Mmhm, just give him some time. He has had a crush on you since we were at UA" Mina bit his nails and poured another glass for you.

"Exactly, that's what everyone says! His mom, his dad even Midoriya who can't catch a fucking clue even if it's tingling in front of his eyes. If He thinks I'm going to wait forever for him to grow a pair of balls? He's got another thing coming. " You downed the entire glass, and Mina hurried to pour another.

...

"She haven't talked to me in an hour," Katsuki stated, folding some papers on his desk.

"Man, it's her night off duty, I heard Mina said that they were going out tonight," Kirishima made a spun in his chair. "Partying and doing girl's shit"

Bakugo hated staying in the office so late, but the papers were not going to fill themselves out. At least Kirishima was there with him, trying to calm him down, but doing a pretty bad job.

"I swear if Mina let her fall into a ditch again I'm going to-"

"For fuck sake, bro!" Kirishima rolled his eyes, almost disappearing in his skull. "It was one time! Let it go. She was fine and giggling like a mad woman when you went to her rescue"

"I just worry about her," he grunted. "I'm a hero, that's my work"

"Yeah, with civilians, but she's a real hero, y'know." Kirishima pushed. Not in the six years that he'd seen Bakugo after you, has he been able to get the real confession out of his mouth.

Bakugo checked his phone again. Nothing.

...

"I'm going to get up there and tell him that I'm done waiting for him"

You didn't know how you convinced Mina into your crazy idea, but now you were outside, in front of your apartment's lobby, waiting for a cab.

"Don't you think you need to reconsider, maybe? You're tipsy honey, what if he's not even there" Mina tried to talk to you out of it, but she knew better, you were stubborn as hell, the least she could do was following you and making sure that, this time, you didn't end up in a ditch.

"He's there, he told me," you stopped a cab lifting a finger and told the driver the direction.

The way to Katsuki's agency was a haze. You remember looking at Mina, her eyes closed, trying to rest before the chaos breaks loose.

"Do you know what you are going to say?" She mumbled with her eyes closed and grabbed your hand to reaffirm her company and her friendship.

You had no idea.

...

"This is taking ages," Kirishima complained, trying to read the papers and arrange them by dates. "Why can't we just shred them and pretend it didn't happen?"

"The TV broadcasted the fight, you dumbass"

Katsuki was tired too, but he needed to make and fill the reports before tomorrow morning.

"Did she answered you?" Kirishima asked.

It was a lame night. He was practically locked up with his best friend all alone in his office. He had a purpose, and that was making him confess his love for you.

"No," he briefly checked his phone again before returning his eyes to the files. "What if she's in a ditch?"

"She's not!" Kirishima raised his voice qhile laughing, and Katsuki only grunted in response. "So what's the deal with her? You still like her or what?"

"Who told you I liked her in the first place?" He was smug about his answer, not giving away any hint of his real feelings for you.

"C'mon, everybody knows," something dark flowed into Kirishima's mind. He felt like a child poking a mad dog with a stick. "At least in our class, I mean, I remember Todoroki showing interest in her once, and you completely beat him up in spared fight, and Mirio that time he gave her a flower from the patio, you were fuming I still remember the red shade of angry in the tips of your ears"

"Keep working"

That phrase only gave him more fuel to continue the poking the beast game.

"Man, why don't you just be truth to yourself? Like, is it that hard to accept the feelings you have for her? She's amazing, smart, beautiful, She's a beast on the field and has a great heart. What's the problem, Dynamight?

He touched a sensitive fiber using his hero name. He always bragged about being the best, bold and facing everything, and everybody who dared to get in his way, but he was acting like a real pussy with you.

"I'm scared I'm not good enough, you happy?" He was upset, and Kirishima was astonished with his confession. He expected an angry gremlin yelling at him for being so annoying, spurring out his confession between variabilities of insults, but he didn't expect his best friend, the know it all and do it all feeling like he wasn't enough.

"Not enough? Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately? Yeah, of course you have a shitty attitude, but you care for her. You're the main example of manliness. You are always taking care of her, giving her your attention, making time for taking her out of a ditch while you were patrolling, I mean, I would've left her there" Kirishima joked to make Bakugo less worried about himself. "I'm telling you man, you are it for her, but you gotta hurry the fuck up because what you see in her, everybody could see it too"

In the quietness of his office, full of papers with his best friend, giving shitty but quiet good advice, he realized that he needed to tell you his feelings, he couldn't wait anymore time.

...

You sobered up real quick. Having the massive building in front of you in the middle of a cold and freezing night, returned every sense that you needed in your body.

"You are doubting" Mina established.

"I'm freezing," you counterattacked. "Why didn't you tell me to put some jeans on?"

The dancing and the drinking made you feel hot and raised your temperature and you knew it, so you put on a skirt before going out without thinking you would come out of the house after coming from the club.

The lights were on, in the floor where Bakugo's office was situated. If you squinted your eyes, you could even see the shapes of Kirishima's and Bakugo's bodies through the glass. Or you were just still drunk.

"He won't be there forever, and you're going to catch a cold if you keep us waiting here for something to happen," Mina urged, hugging herself to keep the cold out.

"You're right, it's now or never," you said, walking determinated into the big glass doors to make yourself in.

With Mina behind you, you pushed the doors, and the guard glanced at you. He recognized you and Mina immediately, but you two put your credentials out just for safety. He gave you a nod and you continued your way to the elevator.

"Are you nervous?" Mina asked while you pressed the elevator button.

"Like shit." You watched the countdown in red numbers above the elevator doors. The elevator was in Bakugo's floor so no one was around.

The ding in the elevator startled you a little, and the turmoil in your stomach didn't make it any better. Mina pushed you through the open doors and pressed the button to Bakugo's floor.

...

"Thank god it's done." Kirishima was spining in his chair while Katsuki looked for his stuff to bring them home with him. "Are you ready to face your true feelings?"

Kirishima didn't drop the topic after the big confession and the great advice, he kept pushing his best friend and giving him ideas on how to tell you, some of them were good and some of them were trash, but Bakugo just listened and ignored at the same time.

"Shut the fuck up" Katsuki growled lowly stuffing his belonging into his black backpack.

"Isn't it romantic? Like, after all this time, you could just walk in with a bouquet of flowers and, wait no, walking? That's lame. What about a white horse? Yeah, that's manly. " Kirishima was hopeless, and even though Bakugo showed a scowl at his words he was actually having fun.

"No horses, but maybe a bouquet will be cool," he was making peace with his own feelings. At the end of the day, what was the worst that could happen?

...

"I think I'm going to pee, shit," you pressed your bladder, and Mina laughed at you.

"You can't be serious right now, we are halfway," she said while you danced funny in front of her.

"I'm sorry I process my emotions somatically," you started to feel cloudy, and your hands started to sweat.

"Hey, relax. He's so into you, maybe he'll stand like a rock for the first three seconds but then he will be all over you confessing, don't worry, and if I'm wrong you can always have Shindo"

You made a gag.

"I hate Shindo," you told her.

"But he follow you like a puppy," Mina imitated a cute puppy joining his hands under her chin and poked out her tongue.

The elevator stopped with a big thump, and you feared in a good way. You had your adrenaline up, and there were still remains of booze in your system to give you a boost.

"It's time, big girl." Mina patted your shoulder and gave you a little push.

...

Kirishima stretched himself, and Bakugo took his backpack, grabbing the zipper of a back pocket to fetch the keys of his office to close it.

He was busy looking for the keys when Kirishima started patting him in the arm repeatedly.

"What?" He told him tired and with heavy eyes. Kirishima's eyes were the exact opposite of him. They were big and surprised, looking at the other side of the glass doors of his office.

He followed Kirishima's look and stopped in you.

At first, he thought it was a kind of a mirage, then he thought that maybe he was more tired than he realized, and then he thought that maybe it was a villain whose quirk was morphing into peoples body's.

Every thought ended at the sound of your voice.

...

You walked through the hallway, practicing a speech of what you were going to say to him. You did it over and over, stumbling words in your own mind. You were there, physically and mentally, ready to take all your feelings for him out. You couldn't chicken out.

You saw his figure in the last office at the end of the hallway, body contouring to grab something from his backpack.

Kirishima was the first to notice you, his eyes wide open at the sight of you two walking in the middle of the night like you owned the place. He gave multiple pats to Bakugo's arm, and from afar, you could notice that he was tired.

Maybe your boldness wasn't the best thing to do at that moment.

You couldn't make your way out because he turned his gaze from the backpack to you in a second. By his look, you could see the gears in his brain moving to give some sort of explanation of what was happening in front of him.

He opened the door, forgetting completely that Kirishima was in his way. The red-haired boy pushed him a little, giving him courage, not caring that his best friend kinda kicked him, stumbling against him.

You two were in the same hallway looking face to face. Your two best friends a step back making themselves a crowd in what was about to happen.

"What are -" Katsuki started disoriented, looking for proof or a mark that you were injured or hurt.

"Shut up," you told him. Katsuki was very surprised at your determined tone.

"I'm liking this already," Kirishima muttered behind Katsuki, grinning like the Chesire cat.

The silence between the four of you was something that was eating your bones. It wasn't awkward, but it was heavy. You told him to shut up, but you weren't talking either, and you knew it. All the speech that you practiced before vanishing from your mind.

"Are you-

"Are you going to love me already!?"

You spoke at the same time, but your message was clear. Mina was right, Katsuki stood like he was made of stone, rigid, stoic, not even a muscle moving from your confession.

You sounded desperate. You blamed your thoughts, your desire to go pee, that you were at least fifteen percent still drunk and that you were freezing. You wanted to get over this chapter in your life, you didn't want to fool around any longer and for that you needed to know if Katsuki was on the same page as you.

"Oh my god," Mina said, holding his face with both hands.

"Shh," Kirishima silenced her. "This is better than the ditch episode"

You could tell that the booze in your system worn off just by waiting for Katsuki's response. The tic tac in your intern clock made it impossible to bear the silence.

"Are you going to say something, or are you going to stay there forever?" You hurried him, trying to hide the anxious feeling that you felt coming out of your voice.

...

Kirishima kicked Bakugo's heavy boots to take him out of his trance. It worked.

You always said to him that you were half witch, at least, always feeling before it happened. He wandered if this was one of those situations.

"I'm-

It was the first time that he felt speechless. He knew you from head to toe, and now he noticed that you were under the effects of alcohol but sounded sure about it. The way that you let it out was some kind of outburst from the time he took to process what he really felt about you. He knew he treated you differently. He liked spending time with you, and he found himself checking his phone very often, looking for a message from you. He was whipped.

He saw your bottom lip quivering, and he knew he had to do something.

...

It happened quickly.

First, you throwing your feelings at him like it was a ball of fire, then his eternal silence, and after that, your guts twisting inside of you, your throat closing, your nose pricking and your bottom lip trembling.

It was over for your fantasies with him.

Was it the worst-case scenario? Yes. Will you be able to get over it? Absolutely. Will the healing process hurt? Like hell.

You were weighing your options when the sound of heavy boots against the carpeted floor woke you up from your suffering.

He was a mere inch from you. Your body and his body were separated by a thin layer of air. You could feel the air coming out from his nose, hitting your forehead. He was tall, and you were almost the size of a elf.

"Never call me out about what I already do"

That's everything that came out of his mouth before joining his lips with yours in a feverish kiss. He wasn't gentle, but the way that he grabbed you by both sides of your face made you float in your spot.

You didn't have the time to process what he said or why he said that, forgetting what you said first, but ignoring the cheerful sounds coming from your friends mouth, you could only concentrate in his mouth moving against yours. Finally.

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (8)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n : I had to cut some scenes, explained in the notes below, to be saved for a bonus chap or drabble. Also, I altered the outline, and this story isn't ending with 9 as originally intended. Happy Chem Ov release day! Enjoy 🖤

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader is left confused by Ewan's online stunt. If he really is content with keeping things casual, then why is he acting otherwise? Tensions reach their peak and Ewan is forced to face the consequences of the arrangement.

Day or night, Ewan will answer your call. 

Even when you seem overly irate at him, greeting him with, “Ewan, what the fuck was that picture?”

He exhales haughtily, your tone almost bringing him some twisted sense of pleasure. Like a ‘this is what you get’ type of reaction. Was he 7 or 27? He’s been labeled sensitive before, but right now, he can’t muster the energy to care.

“Hello to you too, darling,” he says, smoke billowing out of his lips as he lounges on his apartment balcony in London. He had convinced himself that his worries about you and Matt vanished the moment he reaffirmed you as his to the world. In this day and age, in your profession, that can easily be accomplished by something called a hard launch. The first image he posted was supposed to do just that, but the internet has a fickle memory. 

Several months had passed with nothing concrete circulating about you and Ewan, leading fans to readily accept the possibility that you were now dating Matt, prompted by the recent Deuxmoi feature. Granted, Ewan was spotted sneaking out of your building once, but what does that really prove?

Unfortunately, some others spun the story beyond recognition, protected by the anonymity afforded by their black mirrors. Aided with nothing but conjecture, they took it upon themselves to accuse you of infidelity. 

All in all, it had been an eventful 24 hours. His impulsive act of possessiveness quickly turned into a mutable gossip headline.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” you reply immediately. “Why would you post that? I didn’t even know you took it in the first place.”

“I was doing you a favour. Don’t you see? People are under the impression that we’re still together.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Darling, you know it matters. It’s not a good look that you were spotted with someone else, you know what people are like,” he said. 

“Oh, thank you so much for saving me from public ridicule, Ewan,” you say, tone dripping with sarcasm. “Since when do you care about what people say? You stay offline for this exact reason.”

“I know some mean things were being said about you.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” you insist, but you no longer sound sure.

“I’m doing you a favour,” he says. “If that picture remains, then it’s basically a ‘fuck you’ to all the people who accuse you cheating on me.”

“How can I cheat on you, Ewan? We’re not together.”

He bristles at that statement, the truth that sits unpleasant in the back of his mind. It hurts that you’re right. “You know what I mean,” he musters. 

He hears nothing for a while, save for some shuffling in the background. Are you screaming your frustrations into your pillow? Is your fist raised at the skies, cursing his name? Tell him you hate him, and he will crumble. The three words will come out of him unrestrained. I love you, followed by, please don’t leave me. 

But they already have spilled out of him, lost among his tearful pleas in the car. That night in September, he crumbled and he lost you anyway. What good would it do now? What difference would it make?

You finally speak, and he hears the frustration in your voice, even as it softens, “You’re so fucking infuriating.”

He can’t help but chuckle, the sound low and easy, “Hey, baby, you’re the one who called me.”

But your next words wipe the smile right off his face. “Ewan… this isn’t going to be the last of it. Sooner or later, we’ll have to make it known that we’re not as in love as everyone thinks.”

He frowns, not accepting that you’re pressing on the topic. “Why?”

“Your memory must be so twisted, Ewan,” you sigh, and he can picture you shaking your head, “Don’t you have that ironclad PR arrangement for your new film?”

His chest tightens. Leave it to you to be the bearer of harsh truths. “That… That might not happen.”

“Might not? Oh, for fuck’s sake, you didn’t quit, did you?”

“No, I didn’t quit,” he answers quickly, trying to keep his voice steady. “But can we not talk about the film? It’s not what matters right now.”

“But it does, Ewan,” you insist, the concern in your voice gnawing at him, “you’ve got this important thing, and I… what if I want out? What if I want something real?”

“Something… real.” It's like a punch to his gut, nightmare fuel, and he scrambles for a response. “Like what?”

“I don’t know… I just – ”

“This isn’t real enough for you?” There is no hiding the vulnerability in his voice now. It wouldn’t even work if he tried. “I… I’m not…”

“Ewan.”

You refuse to answer his question, and he thinks it’s for the best. He responds with his usual, “Darling.”

“What are you going to do about that picture?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” he finally decides. 

“What?”

“I’ll get rid of it.”

“Okay. Good.” He can hear the relief in your voice, but he’s not done yet. 

“But you can’t get rid of us,” he says firmly, leaving no room for negotiation. “I won’t let you.”

You groan, “Ewan… ”

His reply is curt, daring you to disagree, “Darling.”

He’s met with a long and uncomfortable silence, the air thick with everything left unsaid. He needs to break it. He needs a diversion. “Are you home?” he asks.

“Why?”

Even over the line, he can feel you pulling away, like your tether to him is loosening. He can’t let that happen again. “Are you still angry with me?”

“Why?”

“Why don’t I come over and we can hash it out?” His voice drops into that rhythm, the one he knows you couldn’t resist. 

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Maybe so,” he admits, a small smile playing on his lips, “but I want you.”

He waits with bated breath, ready to run out the door at your word.

“I can’t believe you, Mitchell,” you sigh, your amusement at him bleeding through. It’s all he needs.

“See you soon, darling.”

All throughout the night, he doesn’t let you go. The moment he steps through your door, the tension from the call dissolves into something more primal, something neither of you can resist. Every touch feels like a desperate attempt to hold onto a love that might slip away, even if just for a moment.

Deep down, he knows, just as you do, that this can’t last. But as the night stretches on and he holds you close, he pushes that thought away, burying it in the recesses of his mind. 

This is enough, even for now. 

And so the song remains the same.

Clad in full costume, you tread the halls of the set, your posture noticeably straighter. Alyna’s attire has a way of transforming you, making each step purposeful, each glance sharp. The familiar weight of the prop weapons at your side makes you feel like a true fighter. 

The Watford studio is buzzing with energy as the Entertainment Weekly photoshoot unfolds, the set alive with activity. It is one of the actual sets used for the show, so you feel right at home - Alyna Rivers in her natural habitat. 

You weave through the crowd, careful to avoid Ewan, whose presence you can never shake off. You’ve never actually been together, in a big group setting such as this, since the beginning of the arrangement. The cast definitely knows something is going on, especially after Ewan’s last daring post on Instagram. Ewan hadn’t deleted the post – he simply deactivated his profile instead. You noticed it the next day when you tried to check, only to find his account gone.

The realisation left you conflicted. On one hand, it meant the picture wasn’t out there anymore. But on the other, it felt like a temporary fix, a way of avoiding the real issue rather than confronting it head-on. It was a pause, not an ending. The post still existed technically, suspended in some middle realm. 

Since the cast is not privy to the sordid details of your arrangement, you think it best to keep interactions with him at a minimum. It had been constantly nagging at you, the thought of being with him but not really. Are you even allowed to hold his hand in front of your friends? Won’t that be crossing the line, breaking the rules that he set when he promised that, you won’t be his and he won’t be yours?

Alyna would never, not in a hundred years, allow herself to be put in this position. Especially not by Aemond Targaryen, of all people.

Just as you start to relax, Matt materialises by your side, a wide grin plastered on his face.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the fiercest bastard in the realm,” Matt says, looking every bit as Daemon with his Targaryen blacks and silver-blonde wig, giving you an exaggerated once-over. “Looking for your next conquest?”

“Careful, Matthew,” you shoot back, smirking. “Alyna’s got a list, and you’re edging pretty close to the top.”

“Good to know I’m on your mind, and as a top priority, nonetheless,” he teases, nudging you playfully. “But let’s be real, you’d miss me too much.”

You laugh, the sound echoing off the stone walls. “Miss your terrible jokes, maybe.”

“You love my humour,” he insists. “I’m just saying, when you get tired of shooting arrows and swinging swords, let me know. I would like to take you out into the real world.”

You raise an eyebrow, cheeks heating up. He caught you off guard, so thank the gods for the sheer boldness that Alyna wears like skin, rubbing off on you as you stand in her shoes. “Is Daemon asking Alyna on a date, Smithy?”

“Depends,” he quips, a sly grin on his face. “Is it working?”

Before you can respond, Tom saunters over, clearly not one to miss out on the fun. “What’s this I hear? Matt finally working up the nerve to ask his on-screen sidekick out? Either I’m going mad or my five espresso shots are working.”

“Watch it, you,” you warn him playfully, unable to suppress a grin. “Alyna’s still got some arrows left. And I’m not his sidekick.”

Tom smirks. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re all talk.”

“Want to test that theory?” you challenge, raising an imaginary bow. Matt lets out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest as if struck.

“See? Deadly,” Matt says, winking at you. “So, what do you say? Coffee, next week? Somewhere far from dragons and politicking?”

You pretend to consider it, tapping your chin. “You know, that doesn’t sound half bad. As long as you promise not to reenact your last attempt at flirting.”

“Ouch,” Matt laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll do my best.”

As the photographer calls for everyone to take their places, you catch a glimpse of Ewan watching from a distance, his jaw clenched. The amusement in Matt’s eyes tells you he’s noticed too.

“You’re playing with fire, you know,” you whisper to Matt as you walk toward the set.

He grins, lowering his voice. “I wasn’t called the Rogue Prince for no reason. Besides, I am the blood of the dragon.”

“Sure you are,” you reply, but you are unable to ignore the thrill of Ewan’s intense focus. 

The set buzzes with activity, cast members instructed to maintain their character’s demeanour for the photographs. The Greens go first, with their designated groupings, with Ewan and Gayle sharing a close-up shot. From where you stand behind the cameras, you can feel Ewan’s gaze locked on you, his presence heavy and distracting. After a while, you feel the need to step away, walking further to the side. 

He remains silent, his focus clearly split between you and Matt, who keeps up a steady stream of clever remarks that make you laugh. Each one seems to darken Ewan’s mood further. The tension becomes so palpable that the director finally calls out, “Ewan, can we get your attention over here, please? You’re off your mark.”

Liv and Phia, still awaiting their cues, scurry over to where you stand. Liv leans in with a knowing smirk on her face, whispering in your ear. “Trouble in paradise?” Of course they’ve noticed Ewan’s odd behaviour. 

“More like purgatory,” Phia quips, scrunching her nose.

“Something like that,” you murmur, eyes flicking over to Ewan, who’s now talking with Gayle and the director, looking over the shots taken, though his attention doesn’t stray far from you.

“Well, if you need an escape route, just say the word,” Liv offers, her voice full of concern.

“Do you want me to stare back at Ewan?” Matt cheekily offers, making you punch him on the shoulder. He only laughs openly, the sound free and uninhibited and just Matt. 

“Thanks, guys,” you say, grateful for their friendship. But you know there’s no easy way out of this tangled mess. Not with the way Ewan is watching you and Matt like he’s one step away from bringing The Battle Above The Gods Eye to fruition.

Not long after, it’s time for the Blacks to step onto the set. As you move into position, you can feel Ewan’s gaze practically searing into your back. You fight the urge to laugh. Or grimace. Or shoot him a questioning look. The idea of Ewan in his full Aemond costume brooding over you is something indeed. The fangirl in you would have been sent reeling, if only he wasn’t so fucking infuriating. 

You spot Liv, Tom, and Phia swooping in like a rescue squad with a mission to derail Ewan’s brooding. Phia, ever the animated theater kid, practically throws herself in front of Ewan, waving her hands like she’s recounting the world’s most thrilling tale.

“Ewan, did you catch that last shot of Helaena? Absolute perfection,” she says, grinning.

Tom saunters up, “Care to explain why you are standing here lurking like some stalker? You’re scaring the crew, mate.”

Phia gently nudges Ewan away from your line of sight. “Come on, Ewan. Let’s go for a smoke, it’s stuffy in here.”

Ewan’s clearly torn, but he’s powerless against his friends’ instigation. You bite back a laugh as you see him getting pulled in every direction. Your makeshift rescue team really needs to get their act together, but you love them anyway. The camera snaps away, and you focus on your poses. Knowing that Phia and the gang are running interference, you’re free to enjoy the moment and be Alyna as the photoshoot demands. You can save the enjoyment from watching him squirm later. 

The photoshoot wraps up in the evening and everyone begins to gather their things, preparing to leave. Cast members chat, stretch, and discuss plans for the week.

“So, coffee next week?” Matt asks again, this time with a bit more seriousness.

“Yeah,” you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’ll see what I have scheduled then I’ll give you a call.”

“Great. I’ll even let you pick the place. Well, I’ll be off, love, I’m meeting my sister.” he says. Then, as if sensing something, he leans in closer. “But I’d better give you something to remember me by.”

Before you can react, Matt pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you warmly. The embrace lingers just a moment longer than necessary, and as he pulls back, he plants a soft, teasing kiss on your cheek. You catch the mischievous glint in his eyes. What is he up to?

As Matt releases you and heads out of the studio, you spot Ewan coming toward you, his presence all too familiar. He doesn’t say anything at first, and just stands there, his silence more charged than anything he could have spoken. His expression is stoic, but with the way his lips are pursed and his nostrils are flared, you would say that he’s bothered. He’s jealous.

“You seemed to be having fun,” he finally says, his tone casual, though the tension is unmistakable.

“Mmm, maybe I was,” you reply, meeting his gaze head-on. “Is there a problem?”

Ewan’s eyes narrow slightly, but he shakes his head. “Not at all. Just… nevermind. I’m sure you know, we’ve been booked for a magazine feature coming up in a few days.”

You freeze. “Yeah, I heard. What about it?”

“I’m just making sure that you’re okay with it, darling.”

“It’s work, Ewan,” you reply tersely. “We’ll deal with it.”

The tension breaks when Fabien swoops in, his flawless smile in place. “So, you’re stealing Matt away from me now?” he teases, and there’s an edge to his question. He’s still on the fence about you and Ewan, as he feels protective of his friend. But he’s aware that there’s no simple right or wrong here. You both hurt each other; that much is clear. 

“Maybe,” you quip back, shrugging with feigned innocence. “He seems to like my company.”

Fabien laughs, though there’s a hint of something serious beneath it. “I’ll allow it – this time. But don’t forget, I’ve got dibs on him for the next round of drinks.”

As Fabien’s laughter fades, Ewan’s voice cuts through the lightheartedness. “I don’t think she needs your protection, Fabien.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, rolling your eyes. “I don’t need looking after, Ewan.”

“Maybe not,” he concedes, his voice dropping to something darker. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll stop.”

There’s a challenge in his words, one that sends a thrill of anticipation through you, even as you know it’s a dangerous game you’re all playing. The fire between you smoulders, waiting for the next spark to ignite it. Is Matt that spark? No, you realise, both your actions will be enough to bring everything crashing down.

For now, you step away, leaving Ewan to stew in his misguided jealousy. 

“See you around, Fabs,” you wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a hug goodbye. “I’ll see you for our shoot, yeah?” you tell Ewan, making it clear that you’re not up for another dalliance in between. 

He gets the hint, nodding tersely. But he doesn’t just let you go, not without making his mark, the thing he ached so badly to do in front of Matt, but couldn’t. 

He briefly casts a glance around the room to make sure no one else is hovering, then presses a soft against your lips, leaving you no time to protest. 

You’re exhausted. You’re frustrated. You shouldn’t give in to this, but you do. He feels right; he feels like home. 

If home is a Motel 6 along the highway, ready to kick you out at a moment’s notice. Isn’t that just a knife in the gut?

You pull away after a second, and he smiles, his thumb lightly grazing your cheek.

Fabien shakes his head, a feeling of warmth rising within him at the sight of his two friends who clearly belong together. If only they would get their heads out of their asses.

You seem to remember his presence, pushing away from Ewan’s hold.

Fabien can only roll his eyes. 

Only two days later, and you’re back to work once more. The British Vogue photoshoot has its focus on high fashion, set against the backdrop of an American West-inspired ranch. It doesn’t dwell on you and Ewan as celebrity figures, which is why you agreed to the shoot in the first place. 

Walking onto set, you’re struck with awe at the dramatic tableau of worn wooden fences, hay bales, and lasso props. But your amazement reaches its absolute peak when Ewan emerges, in full cowboy attire. 

Fuck. You bite your lip, and you can almost hear your heart pounding. Unbeknownst to you, the crew notices your flustered state, but they think it’s just you admiring your boyfriend as expected. 

He meets your eyes from across the room, then saunters over to you, that characteristic smirk set on his lips. Your breath catches in your throat, when he tips his hat and greets, “Howdy, darling.”

“Why, hello, good sir,” you try to match his tone, giving a playful curtsy. 

“Ready to give them a show?” he asks, and you’re sure if he’s referring to the photoshoot or the possibility that the two of you might have to play at being a couple as these people expect. You opt to believe the former. 

As the shoot progresses, the tension between you and Ewan becomes almost unbearable. You’re clad in an elaborate, haute couture cowgirl outfit. A sculptural corset made of brown leather, with a tailored vest on top. A floor-length skirt with a high slit reaching your upper thigh, dyed to a rich gradient of burnt sienna. Knee-high heeled boots. A leather choker with a central silver pendant rests on your neck, dangling provocatively. 

For the first set of shots, both of you casually lean against the fence. Ewan poses beside you, watching you with an intensity that is both electrifying and maddening. His gaze is hungry, almost predatory, and you almost forget about the elaborate set around you. Thankfully, each blinding flash of the camera pulls you back into the real world. Keeping you from riding a cowboy right down on the hay bales. How does the saying go? Save a horse…

The photographer snaps you out of it, as he shouts a direction for you to pose solo with a lasso draped over your shoulder. Ewan steps out of the frame, leaning against a wooden post, his eyes locked on you as if he’s trying to memorise every detail of this look. 

“Alright, let’s try a more dramatic pose,” the photographer instructs. “Maybe something with a bit more attitude.”

You adjust your stance, twisting slightly to emphasise the curve of your waist. As you do, you momentarily meet Ewan’s gaze. His eyes are dark with something like desire, and his lips are set in a grim line. 

“I can’t even articulate what you’re doing to me, darling,” Ewan murmurs in your ear, when the photographer calls for a 5-minute break. Set assistants run onto the scene, adding and rearranging props for the next round of shots.

You smirk, “Speak for yourself, Mitchell.”

“Mmm,” he hums, satisfied. 

The next shot calls for Ewan to stand behind you, his arms wrapped around your figure, the position as intimate as can be. Each click of the camera seems to heighten the tension.

His breath is warm against your neck, the sheer proximity electrifying, causing your entire body to heat up underneath the layers of leather and cotton. His heartbeat matches yours, quick and erratic. His voice is a mere whisper, barely audible over the camera clicks. “You’re making this incredibly difficult, you know.”

You tilt your head slightly, “Difficult how, exactly?”

“Keeping my hands off you is the hardest part of my day,” he replies, his voice husky with restrained desire. “It’s like you’re daring me to break every rule we’ve set.”

That you’ve set, you want to correct him, but you bite your tongue. A bitter chuckle escapes you, the sound a mix of frustration and amusement. “So what if I am,” you tease, bending back slightly into his embrace, feeling his body heat against yours. He welcomes your closeness, leaning into you. 

For the next few minutes, it’s a game of seduction and denial, every movement aimed at tormenting the other. The crew, blissfully unaware of the full extent of the tension, is generally pleased about the atmosphere of the shoot. In their minds, you and Ewan are simply leaning into your real-life chemistry and romance.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Little do they know.

In the brightly lit break room, the hum of distant chatter from the set fills the silence between you and Ewan. He’s seated across from you, his gaze unyielding as you check your phone.

His voice breaks the quiet, his tone deceptively casual but laced with curiosity. “Doing anything tomorrow?”

You look up, meeting his eyes, before tentatively answering. “Actually, yes.”

His brows lift, his curiosity piqued. “Care to elaborate, darling?”

You shift in your seat, trying to mask the tension in your voice. “I’m supposed to grab coffee with Matt.”

“Matt.” Ewan’s voice is low as he repeats the familiar name. “Just the two of you?”

“Yes.”

There’s a pause, his expression morphing from curiosity to something more intense. “Is it… is it a date?”

“I think that was implied,” you reply, your tone deliberately nonchalant as you try to maintain control of the conversation.

“Really.” His voice tightens, his response loaded with a mix of disbelief and frustration.

You notice the obvious shift in his demeanour, the way his jaw clenches and his eyes darken. “Why the long face?”

Ewan’s hands ball into fists on the table, his composure breaking. “Fuck, I—”

Before he can finish, you cut him off, your own frustration simmering. “Forget it. Don’t answer that.”

“No, just…” His voice falters, his emotions raw. “I don’t want you to go.”

You blink, taken aback by his admission. “Are you being serious right now, Mitchell?”

“Do I look like I’m kidding?” Ewan’s eyes lock onto yours, filled with a mix of hurt and possessiveness. A concoction borne out of circumstances of his own making. Or had it been you, last September? You can no longer keep track of whose fault reigns over everything. The truth of the matter is, you love him. Of course you do.

But nothing feels right anymore. 

“I don’t know,” you retort, your voice rising slightly, “I hope you are. Because you can’t just say that to me.”

“But I am.” His tone is resigned but unwavering. “I don’t want to watch you with someone else.”

The words hit you like a cold splash of water, freezing you in place. “Then I’m ignoring what you just said. This isn’t fair to me.”

His face falls. “You can’t just ignore it. It’s not that simple.”

You stand up abruptly, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you. “Well, I don’t see how this conversation is going to help anything.”

He stands as well, his expression pained and conflicted. “I just – damn it. Wait a minute, darling – ”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “Look, if you’re going to act like this, then maybe we need to rethink – ”

“No,” he interrupts, his voice desperate. “I don’t want to rethink anything. I just… I need you to understand that this isn’t easy for me.”

The room falls silent, both of you breathing heavily. The unresolved problem lingers, the weight of it all hanging heavily between you. 

You take a final look at him, feeling a mixture of anger and longing. “I’m gonna go get some air.”

Without waiting for a response, you turn and walk out of the break room, the doors closing sharply behind you. Ewan is left alone, frustration clear on his face as he stares at the empty space where you once stood.

Ewan is sprawled on his couch, a half-empty bottle of beer resting on the coffee table. The warm light of a lamp casts a muted glow over his apartment, which is littered with the remnants of his evening alone. He has seen the latest headlines about you and Matt, enjoying a date in Hyde Park.

Hyde Park Outing: Is it Love in the Air for these HBO Actors?

He tries to ignore them all, but the nagging bitterness won’t let him be. The images and headlines keep flashing in his mind. Unable to shake the frustration, he sends a quick message to Tom and Phia, inviting them over for a casual distraction.

A short while later, they arrive, carrying a six-pack and a box of takeout. Ewan greets them with a tired smile, which barely masks his despondence.

“Evening,” he says, opening the door wider to let them in. “Glad you could make it.”

Phia gives him a sympathetic look as she steps inside, setting down the food. “We came prepared. Looks like you could use a break.”

Tom follows, his eyes scanning the cluttered room. “And some beers. We figured you might need them.”

Ewan leads them to the living room, where they settle onto the couch. As they crack open the beers and start munching away, the initial wariness fades, replaced by casual conversation. His two guests are careful not to broach the topic of you, but they know it’s inevitable. Soon enough, it will be time to get down to business, which is essentially what they came for. They’re the rescue squad after all. 

“So… we have a feeling we know what’s been eating at you,” Tom says, taking a swig of his beer. “We saw the headlines, mate. Don’t even deny it. It’s gotta be rough.”

Ewan grimaces, his hand gripping the bottle a little tighter. “Yeah, the headlines. they’re , uhhhh … oh, what does it even matter?”

Phia raises an eyebrow, glancing at him. “Come on, kid. It matters. You can talk to us. We weren’t cast as siblings for no reason.”

Ewan lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “We have this thing, this casual thing. But seeing her with someone else... it’s like a punch to the gut.”

Tom nods sympathetically. “I get it. I’m sure it was fun at first, but – ” 

Phia’s concern wins over her, leading her to interject, “Ewan, maybe you need to bloody talk to her. Figure out where you both stand.”

Ewan shakes his head, though his expression softens, and his unmistakable vulnerability shines through. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to see where that leads.”

Phia reaches out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Ask her why she ended things last year.”

“I know why – ”

“Just… ask her again? You might find out more than you expect.”

Tom waits a beat before butting in with a light-hearted chuckle, “It’s better than letting it fester. At least you’ll know where you stand. You owe her that much.”

Ewan huffs out a laugh, the bitterness in his voice giving way to reluctant amusement. “Maybe. I just don’t want to make things worse.”

“Mate,” Tom shakes his shoulder, “look at the state of things. How in the bloody hell can you make it even worse? I don’t think it’s possible.”

Phia just smirks at his boldness, but she agrees, nodding to Ewan, “He’s right, you know.”

Tom raises his beer in a mock toast. “To Aemond and Alyna.”

“Oh, you absolute rascal,” Phia laughs in disbelief. 

But they all clink their bottles together, the gesture a small comfort amidst the confusion. The evening winds down after an hour, and after they depart, Ewan’s mind is still consumed with thought.

Day or night, you will answer Ewan’s call.

“Hello?” your voice patches through after a few rings.

“Darling,” he says, “I think we need to talk.”

💌 next chapter

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Some notes in the margins...

I did have Matt and the reader's date written out, but I thought it seemed superfluous for this one. Maybe in a bonus chapter?

In the next one: 'THE talk', Ewan dealing with stuff for his film, whippets, interviews, MORE headlines... will they finally resolve everything?

Also, if yous want, I can give a glimpse on what would have happened if Matt got the BV shoot instead :)

The end isn't even within reach. More angst to follow. How can there be more, you ask? Let's hash it out below 😉💙

[perilegs]

I'm thinking about the Dalish conversation with Zevran and how he tells of the circumstance of his birth in the most matter of fact way and calls it the oldest tale in the book. If the Warden says it was horrible, Zevran plays it off with a nonchalant "Is it?" and says it's normal, especially for the boys he grew up with. But! He approves of you acknowledging that his past has been horrible to him. He keeps diminishing his own problems and trauma, and it's interesting because there are so many little aspects of him that show themselves in that tiny bit of dialogue.

Zevran, as a crow, is trained in the art of seduction and it has been one of the reasons he's still alive to this day. He knows it's typically unsexy to lament on how terribly your past has been affecting you. If you tell Zevran you're sorry for him, he immediately turns the conversation into complimenting the Warden.

It can be read as a test of character if one so chooses. Obviously Zevran isn't going to show a weak point to a person he just met, but, he is telling about himself, on a deeper level, and it's up to the Warden on how they react. Also, It's a good way to scope intentions and such. Zevran is still sharing information on himself, but on his terms. He chooses to tell the Warden about his childhood when all they asked was a question about the Dalish. And he sets a neutral tone to it.

Zevran's childhood is not a pleasant subject and he distances himself from it. It's far easier for him to talk about it that way, and it doesn't force him to process what he experienced and how it was horrible.

But he does enjoy someone, an outsider, reaffirming that what he went through was horrible, and it wasn't okay just because others have gone through the same and worse. Was there a moment in his past, where he even mildly suggested his childhood might have been less than ideal, and gotten back the reaction that it's no different from his peers? Or that he is lucky to have been bought by the crows?

"My first victim, as it were." Is that what the crows said to him? How they reassured Zevran time and time again how he was meant to be an assassin, it has been so since his birth.

[queenofwands89]

Stolen Hearts and Cuddles

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Reader

Summary: While cuddling, Jake tells Y/N that she made him believe in love at first sight.

Warning: Tooth rotting fluff.

Notes: Hello, this is my first Jake fic. I just watched twisters with my family last week, and it got me back in my Glen Powell feels (Always been down bad for him the movie just reignited that spark lmao), so yeah I hope you enjoy byeeee.

The sun has set, and the soft glow from the table lamp casts a warm, cozy light across the living room. You’re nestled together on the plush leather couch, your head resting on Jake's chest as you listen to the gentle hum of the city outside your window. The faint aroma of popcorn lingers in the air, remnants of your impromptu movie night.

Jake's arm is draped protectively around you, his fingers tracing absent-minded patterns on your shoulder. You find solace in these moments – the simplicity of being close to him, away from the chaos of the naval base and the pressure of his duties as a aviator.

“Y’know,” Jake's voice breaks the comfortable silence, a confident lilt even in his softer moments, “I used to think love at first sight was just a myth. A fairytale people tell themselves to make life seem a little more magical.”

Tilting your head slightly, you look up at him, your curious eyes meeting his green, mischievous yet earnest gaze. “Oh really?” you tease, a playful smile dancing on your lips. “The great Lieutenant Jake Seresin, charmer extraordinaire, didn’t believe in love?”

A chuckle rumbles from his chest, making you vibrate with the sound. “Hard to believe, huh?” he smirks. “But yeah, I was always about the next mission, the next challenge. Love seemed like a distraction.”

Your fingers play with the hem of his navy blue T-shirt, your touch sending electric shivers down his spine. “So, what changed?” you ask softly, genuinely intrigued.

Jake’s expression softens, the cockiness melting away to reveal the depth of his feelings. He gently cups your face with his hand, his thumb caressing your cheek. “You,” he says simply. “You changed everything.”

Your heart flutters at his words, and you lean into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palm against your skin. “How?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

Jake’s eyes lock with yours, reflecting a sincerity that’s often hidden behind his confident exterior. “The first time I saw you, it felt like someone had flipped a switch inside me. Suddenly, life wasn't just about flying high and chasing adrenaline. It was about finding a way to keep you by my side, to protect you, to love you.”

He takes a deep breath, as if steadying himself to say something deeply personal. “You didn’t just capture my attention, Y/N. You stole my heart. Completely and irrevocably. And for the first time, I realized that love isn’t a distraction. It’s what makes all the risks worth taking.”

You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, your emotions welling up at his heartfelt confession. “Jake…” you begin, but he gently hushes you, his gaze soft yet intense.

“I’m serious, Y/N. You’re my everything. My whole world. The one I’d sacrifice everything for,” he continues, his voice filled with unwavering conviction. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as your lips meet in a tender, passionate kiss. Each touch, each breath seems to reaffirm your bond, a silent promise of the future you will build together.

When you finally pull away, you rest your forehead against his, your heart racing. “I love you, Jake. More than words can say.”

“I love you more baby,” he replies, his voice a soft murmur in the intimate space you share. “More than you could ever know.”

You settle back into his comfortable embrace, the weight of the world outside disappearing as you lose yourself in each other. In that moment, in the safety of your love, you find a tranquility you have never known before.

As you drift off to sleep, the world outside continues to spin, but for you and Jake, your universe is right there on that couch – wrapped in each other's arms, in a cocoon of stolen hearts and unyielding love.

[thebylertheory]

"If you think El doesn't need to end the show in a relationship and she can be happy without one, then that goes for Will too" here's why you're wrong.

The reason why it's different for Will, whether you like it or not, IS because of his sexuality. Homophobia and Will's belief that he'll never find romantic love because of him being gay is a core part of his character. Romantic love, or the lack thereof, has been an important part of his story for at least the past two seasons. He already has an abundance of love from his friends and family. He's not lacking on that part. But he wants romantic love. That is what he desires. They have made that clear. And they have gone out of their way to show us that he wants that with MIKE. And they have even taken it a step further and shown us why Mike and Will would be good together. They bring out the best in each other and they make one another feel good about themselves. So, for them to do all of that and then end the show by reaffirming Will's belief that he was right and he's never going to find love because he's gay is a very cruel and pointless ending for his character. He has suffered enough. He should be allowed to end the show with the boy he loves and believing that he's worthy of that type of love. He deserves to have the relationship he's always wanted and thought he would never have.

Romantic love has never been an important part of El's story. Since season 1, she has been trying to find a family/home and she has been trying to find out who she is in a world she was isolated from since birth. That is the most important part of her story and character. Her relationship with Mike has never been the main focus. In fact, she does better and she thrives more and she sees the most development as a person when her and Mike are separated. They have shown us that their relationship holds her back and that they're not good for each other. They don't make each other feel loved or good about themselves. Now, that's not to say I don't think El should EVER be in a relationship. She can! But a romantic relationship, especially one with Mike, is not as important to her story as it is to Will's. In fact, a relationship with Mike has done more bad than good for her. She doesn't NEED romantic love or a relationship with Mike for her happy ending. Her happy ending can consist of her just being able to live comfortably with her family and knowing who she is and feeling confident in her identity. That ending is what will be the most fulfilling for her character.

[jinnie-ret]

carry you

seungmin x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

content warnings: just angsty, smile insecurity, mention of hate comments

word count: 1.3k

summary: at a low point, seungmin finds out how much reader has been supporting him, no matter what. it fills him with a warmth that is nearly searing him from the inside, but he would have it no other way.

requested: @skzoologist

1K FOLLOWERS PLAYLIST 💚🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST

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Being an idol, Seungmin knew that he was bound to get hate, he wasn't stupid. However, when a part of him that was so natural, so pure, began to be picked apart by malicious commenters on the internet, there was no way he could control the way his brain believed it was true.

Why was it so wrong for him to smile when something made him happy? Why was it met with disgust when he simply smiled at something that made him laugh? Joy came to Seungmin just as easy as it was filling his lungs with air. It didn't matter what it was, whether he was messing around with his members or spending time hanging out with his best friend, he felt the muscles in his face twitch and his lips quirk upwards. But now, it was just as easy for his hand to instinctively cover the bottom half of his face, and it was much harder to avoid that feeling of suffocating.

Tears slowly raced down Seungmin's cheeks, fighting their way to be the first one to land on his phone screen displaying a multitude of hateful comments. The guy couldn't help himself. He purposefully searched his name, the word 'smile' and the word 'ugly' to have his new insecurity reaffirmed to him. In a sick and twisted way, he now needed validation to himself that the development of what he saw as a fault, was still circulating the internet by accounts that claimed themselves to be a stay. A part of him wished that someone could take it all away. He felt as if he had been doing so well in growing his confidence over the years of being in Stray Kids, yet he fell hook, line and sinker to just one person pointing out something about his appearance. And now, he couldn't get enough of it.

He was sat alone, curled up in the lounge of his best friend's apartment whilst she went to change into comfy clothes, or do her nighttime routine, something like that. Seungmin couldn't remember. His mind was elsewhere. Different to how he usually acted, when he'd succumb to the plush grey cushions on the luxurious sofa and end up falling asleep, he was instead fixated on the blue light from his device.

"Hey Mong-Mong," his best friend grinned as she curled up on the other end of her sofa, mirroring him close enough but not fully.

"Hey loser," Seungmin joked as he pretended to yawn for an excuse to wipe his eyes and have his face a bit red.

"You alright?" she asked in concern, acting different from her usual feisty self of fighting back against his comments.

She was always there to support him. From when he was a trainee, experiencing his first win at Music Bank, to celebrating his achievements overseas too, like when he went to the Met Gala. His best friend was always there, whether it was physically, in spirit or through an uncharacteristically cute message through text. She was a hype woman at heart, really.

"Yeah, just tired. It's so hard being an idol," Seungmin fake chuckled, removing his hands from his face yet pulling at the toggles of his hoodie to scrunch the fabric around his face more.

There was certainly some truth in that statement.

"Did Chan tell you off for calling him old again?" she smirked at him, kicking his foot til he made a sound of annoyance.

"Yah! Who's side are you on?"

His side. She always was. With valiant effort she was sure she could pull him back to the brighter side of life, so he was able to shine again, and his smile too. She wasn't oblivious. As someone who was chronically online, she was very well versed in being a Stay, and had seen other true fans upset about what they heard about Seungmin from antis, and also from how they'd seen it affect him. So, gradually, she tried to boost his mood, easing in comments about his smile amongst many other compliments she'd give him.

"I'm so jealous, Puppy. Your skin is glowing, the hair is hairing and the teeth are shining. Tell me your secrets and Jeongin doesn't have to get hurt!"

Ok so maybe she did threaten to take a pair of scissors to her Jeongin photo card, but it got a laugh out of him, even if it caused her great pain to hold a precious item at ransom.

It was later, instead of sooner, that Seungmin felt a change within himself. He felt lighter, warmer, happier. Although his bad habit had not completely stopped, he felt himself reaching out for his phone for a bedtime scroll less and less. That was all because she was there to help him not care. She really did carry him out of his hateful thoughts.

"You take care of yourself so well, look at how you've done your hair today, bright smile as always, and look at the fittttt!" she boasted about her best friend, to her best friend, standing up in front of his nonchalant form that was once again, right at home on her sofa.

She should give him a spare key at this rate.

"You want something," Seungmin rose and eyebrow in suspicion at her cheeky smile.

"Nope. No. No I don't. Why you lying Seungmin? I know you're lying," she nearly pressed her face up right against his as she theatrically and drastically changed her tone.

"Don't gaslight me," Seungmin groaned, shutting his eyes and pushing her away by her forehead.

"I would never do that," she smiled sweetly, dumping herself on the sofa.

"Stoppp! You want something, I swear," Seungmin smiled slightly, shaking his head at her antics.

"I just want my Seungminnie happy all the time," she pinched his cheeks, and just for fun she threw a little bit of aegyo in there to really harness a bigger reaction.

"First of all, never do that again. Like, seriously... that was gross. Second of all, you're asking a lot there," he leant his head back on the sofa, feeling exasperated yet humoured at the same time.

"I am. But I like seeing it. That cute smile-!" she moved quickly to pinch his cheeks again but he swatted her away.

"Noona!" Seungmin whined, still holding his arms out in front of him in pure defense.

"Aish, I'm literally a year older than you don't call me that," she shivered.

"You act just like my noona," Seungmin sighed through his nostrils.

"Hmm your noona seems smart. I miss her. I haven't seen her in ages. Maybe she'll be my new bestie," she teased him.

Seungmin laughed in disbelief, gaining a moment of peace when he saw her go quiet and just admire his face.

"Ahhh I knew it!!!" Seungmin lifted off of his seat, pointing at her in what she supposed was elation.

"Hmm? Oh you know something? That's really shocked me," she taunted him.

"Shut up, pabo. You've been trying to make me laugh this whole time!" Seungmin clapped his hands as he explained his thoughts out loud.

"Yes. And I won. Oh stays will love me so much," she started shimmying, a weird little celebration dance but Seungmin loved it nevertheless.

"Stays would think you're a nuisance," Seungmin kicked her leg lightly with a louder laugh, playfully raising his fists and pretending to try and box her.

She had been there the whole time lifting his spirits. He didn't have to bluntly say it then and there but there was a mutual understanding that she had done all she could to get him to smile and realise the beauty in such a simple thing. It was sad that people had stopped him but she had worked hard against that and was successful in the mean time.

And so the world saw the beauty in him again, that she had seen all along.

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tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @2minstan @skzoologist @leonchansblog26 @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @minholing @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria @michelle4eve @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly0789 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari

[imloyaltoscoups]

first and last | kim mingyu

As you sit on the soft grass, the gentle breeze playing with your hair, you glance over at Mingyu, a warm smile on your lips. "Mingoo, remember our first meeting?" you ask, your voice filled with nostalgia. "It feels like we were in a K-drama," you continue, your eyes sparkling with fond memories. "I still get butterflies remembering that," you add, your heart fluttering at the thought of that magical moment when your paths first crossed.

You're standing in line for the Full Throttle at Six Flags, surrounded by the excited chatter of fellow thrill-seekers. Ahead of you, a group of guys catches your attention as they cheer on a towering figure, Mingyu, who stands at a formidable 6 feet tall. You overhear one of them, Minghao, encouraging Mingyu to conquer his fears.

"Come on, Mingyu, you've got this! Conquer those fears! You're a big man!" Minghao exclaims, his voice filled with determination.

But Mingyu's response surprises you, as he defiantly declares, "Fck the fears, I'm gonna die riding that," He points towards the looming roller coaster with a mixture of fear and determination.

A smile tugs at your lips as you observe Mingyu's resolve, wondering why someone of his stature would be afraid of heights. The banter continues among the group, with another guy chiming in, offering Mingyu $500 just to take on the roller coaster challenge.

"Hey, Gyu, I'll give you $500 if you ride it!" the guy exclaims, his offer adding a new layer of excitement to the atmosphere. Jeonghan, another member of the group, joins in with a playful grin, egging Mingyu on.

As you watch the scene unfold, you can't help but be amused by the mix of comradeship and friendly dares among the group. It's moments like these that make waiting in line at an amusement park just as memorable as the rides themselves.

You began ponder the tempting offer of $500 for conquering a fear, you can't help but imagine yourself in Mingyu's shoes. The allure of the cash prize seems almost irresistible, and you find yourself mentally calculating all the things you could do with the extra money.

Just as Mingyu hesitates, contemplating the proposition, another voice cuts in. It's Soonyoung, one of the guys in the group, offering up an alternative deal that raises the stakes even higher.

"I'll do all your chores for a whole year, and Seungkwan can be your personal slave for five months," Soonyoung declares confidently, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

Seungkwan, caught off guard by the unexpected proposal, quickly interjects with a hint of displeasure, "What do you mean I'll be a slave?! Why am I even inserted to this conversation??!!"

The sudden turn in the conversation adds a new layer of amusement to the group's banter, as Seungkwan protests while Soonyoung looks on, clearly enjoying the playful exchange. Meanwhile, Mingyu is left contemplating his options, torn between the promise of financial reward and the entertaining offers being thrown his way.

With a resigned sigh and a hint of determination, Mingyu nods in agreement to Soonyoung's offer. However, before sealing the deal, he decides to play it safe and ensure there's solid proof of the promises made.

Pulling out his phone, he turns to his friends, a serious expression on his face. "Alright, guys, I need you to repeat all the words you just promised," he says, his tone firm yet fair.

One by one, Mingyu's friends oblige, reciting their pledges with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Soonyoung reaffirms his commitment to take on all of Mingyu's chores for a year, while Seungkwan reluctantly acknowledges his role as a "personal slave" for five months, though not without some grumbling. Jeonghan then showed his $500 stating he will give it to him after the ride.

Each promise is recorded on Mingyu's phone, a sense of accountability settles over the group, turning their lighthearted banter into a more official agreement. With the evidence safely captured, Mingyu nods in satisfaction, ready to face the challenge ahead with the added assurance that his friends will uphold their end of the bargain.

As the first batch of riders exits, the crew signals for the next group of eighteen to step forward. You eagerly join the line, deciding to sit at the front of the ride, convinced that the experience will be more thrilling there. As you take your seat, you notice Mingyu trembling in the front row, clearly anxious. Settling in beside him, you can hear him muttering under his breath, rethinking his life choices with every passing second.

“I can’t believe I agreed to this,” Mingyu murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of dread and resolve. “Why did I let them talk me into this? $500 isn’t worth my life…I’m going to die," Mingyu whispers, his voice shaky.

You feel torn between laughing at the absurdity of the situation and feeling pity for him. Despite Mingyu being a stranger, you instinctively reach out your hand to offer some comfort. He looks at your hand, hesitant and unsure.

When the crew member approaches to check your safety belt, Mingyu finally decides to take your hand. His grip is cold as ice, and you can see his face growing paler by the moment, knowing the ride will start any second now.

"It’s going to be okay," you say softly, trying to reassure him, even though you’re not sure if your words will help.

Mingyu squeezes your hand tighter, his eyes shut tightly as the ride's mechanisms begin to clank and whir, signaling the imminent start. You both take a deep breath as the coaster jolts forward, ready to face the thrill together.

As the roller coaster starts its ascent, the excitement of Mingyu's friends in the other rows fills the air. You hear Dokyeom's panicked cries to be let out, his voice rising above the din of the crowd.

"Let me out! Let me out!" Dokyeom shouts desperately, his fear palpable.

Jeonghan tries to offer some reassurance, albeit in a slightly unconventional way. "Just close your eyes and pretend you're a pigeon," he suggests, though it doesn't seem to do much to calm Dokyeom, who's now screaming at the top of his lungs.

Glancing over at Mingyu, you see him holding onto your hand tightly, his knuckles turning white as he grips the lap bar with his other hand. Despite his own fear, he seems determined to weather the ride, finding comfort in your presence.

You give Mingyu's hand a reassuring squeeze, offering silent support as the coaster climbs higher and higher. As the roller coaster reaches its peak, the breathtaking view spreads out before you, captivating your senses with its beauty. You turn to Mingyu, a smile on your face as you encourage him to open his eyes and take in the magnificent panorama.

"Wow, look at that view," you exclaim, nudging Mingyu gently, hoping to share the moment of awe with him.

But as Mingyu reluctantly opens his eyes, the ride suddenly lurches forward, the ground dropping away beneath you with heart-stopping speed. A string of colorful curses spills from Mingyu's lips, his voice tinged with a mix of fear and exhilaration.

"Son of a—! Oh, sh Why now?! Fu—ck!" Mingyu's voice cuts through the rush of wind as the coaster hurtles downward with grand acceleration.

You both cling to the safety bars, the wind whipping past you as gravity pulls you faster and faster towards the ground below. Mingyu's curses mix with the exhilarated screams of your fellow riders, creating a chaotic symphony of sound that fills the air.

Despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you can't help but feel a rush of exhilaration as the coaster races along its twisting track, each twist and turn adding to the thrill of the ride.

As the roller coaster screeches to a halt, bringing the adrenaline-fueled ride to an end, you can't help but let out a laugh, the exhilaration still coursing through your veins.

"Well, that was fun!" you exclaim, turning to your seatmate with a grin. "Again!"

But as you glance at Mingyu, you notice that he seems to have melded with the seat, his body limp and drained from the intense experience. Concern washes over you, and you gently remove your hand from his and reach out to touch his cheek and forehead.

"Hey, you good?" you ask softly, your voice filled with genuine worry.

Mingyu lets out a tired murmur, his words barely audible amidst the post-ride chaos. "That… that'll be the first and last," he mumbles, his tone a mixture of exhaustion and relief.

You nod understandingly, realizing that the roller coaster may have been a bit too much for him. With a comforting pat on his shoulder, you reassure him that it's alright, grateful that you were able to experience the thrill together, even if it was just for this one time.

As the crew begins to unbuckle the seat restraints, you notice Mingyu struggling to stand, his legs feeling like jelly after the adrenaline rush. Nearby, Dokyeom looks equally wobbly, his friend Joshua supporting him on his shoulder.

"Whoa, easy there," Joshua says, steadying Dokyeom as he tries to regain his balance.

Seeing Mingyu in a similar state, some of his friends rush over to offer their support and encouragement.

"You did great, Mingyu! That was wild!" one of them exclaims, patting him on the back.

"Yeah, you conquered your fear like a champ!" another adds, offering a helping hand to help him stand.

With Mingyu surrounded by his friends, you realize that your role in comforting him is over. Excusing yourself politely, you decide to seek out your own friends.

As you make your way through the crowd, thoughts of the thrilling rides ahead fill you with excitement. It's time to involve your friends once again in your own extreme rides adventures.

__

Exhaustion begins to settle in, and some of your friends are busy dealing with the aftermath of the extreme rides—whether it's puking or cursing you—you can't help but feel your stomach rumble with hunger.

"Man, I'm getting hungry," you remark to your friends, the weariness evident in your voice.

Inspired by a sudden burst of generosity (or perhaps guilt for dragging them into this mess), you decide to treat your friends to a meal. After all, nothing soothes the soul like some good food, right?

After successfully treating your friends, you find yourself in line for food alongside Mingyu, who seems to share your craving.

"Hey there," you greet him with a friendly smile. "Hungry after all that excitement?"

Mingyu returns the smile, nodding enthusiastically. "Yeah! All that adrenaline has left me starving."

As you wait in line together, a thought crosses your mind, and you decide to strike up a conversation.

"So, did you ever get that reward for your bravery?" you ask, curious about the outcome of Mingyu's daredevil feat.

Mingyu's eyes light up as he proudly displays the crisp bills in his hand, a wide grin spreading across his face. "$500, baby!" he exclaims, his excitement palpable.

You nod approvingly, impressed by his reward. "Congratulations, well deserve!" you congratulate him sincerely.

As you both reach the front of the line and collect your food, you excuse yourself politely. Mingyu nods in understanding, but before you can walk away, he speaks up.

"Hey, wait!" he calls out, causing you to pause and turn back to him.

"Yeah?" you respond, curious about what he wants to say.

Mingyu's expression is earnest as he asks, "What's your name?"

You chuckle at his sudden inquiry. "It's Y/N," you reply, raising your voice slightly so he can hear over the bustling crowd.

"Got it! Thanks, Y/N!" he calls back with a smile, waving as you continue on your way back to your friends.

As the day at the theme park unfolds, you and Mingyu continue to cross paths, it seems like fate keeps bringing you together, each encounter more unexpected than the last. Eventually, the groups decided to merge into one, seamlessly blending into a single entourage of lowkey party animals.

Suddenly, one of your friends spots a photobooth and suggests giving it a try. Excited by the idea, they start pairing up for photos. Just as you're about to join in, you feel a tap on your shoulder and turn to see Mingyu standing there, a hopeful look in his eyes.

"Uhm, Y/N, do you want to take a picture with me?" he asks, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

A smile spreads across your face at the unexpected invitation. "Sure, I'd love to!" you reply enthusiastically, touched by Mingyu's gesture.

As you both step into the photobooth together, the anticipation builds. The photobooth flashes and captures each moment, you and Mingyu let loose, allowing your personalities to shine through in each snapshot. The photos turn out to be a delightful mix of candid and playful moments, portraying a sense of genuine connection and warmth between you.

In one picture, you both share a laugh, caught in a moment of pure joy as you exchange playful banter. In another, Mingyu wraps his arms around your shoulder (hugging you from behind), pulling you close as you flash matching grins at the camera. Each image exudes an undeniable sense of closeness and affection, making it seem as though you're more than just friends enjoying a day out at the theme park.

As you both step out of the photobooth, you can't help but admire the adorable pictures that now serve as a tangible reminder of the bond you share with him. With a smile, you tuck the photo strip into your pocket, knowing that these snapshots will be treasured for years to come, capturing a moment that felt like love in its purest form.

As the day draws to a close at the amusement park, Mingyu musters up the courage to ask for your number, his expression hopeful yet tinged with a hint of nervousness.

"Hey, Y/N, can I have your number?" he asks, his voice soft but determined.

A warm feeling washes over you as you realize that this might be the beginning of something special. "Of course," you reply with a smile, eagerly sharing your contact information with him.

As you exchange numbers, a sense of excitement bubbles within you, and you can't help but wonder if this could be love at first sight for both of you.

__

Fast forward to the present, you find yourself holding the photobooth picture you took with Mingyu all those years ago. The memories come flooding back, and a pang of longing grips your heart as you realize just how much you miss him.

"I really miss you, my Mingoo," you murmur softly, your voice trembling with emotion. Tears gather in your eyes as you gaze at the picture, wishing desperately that he could still be with you.

Turning towards Mingyu's tombstone, you reach out a trembling hand to touch it, tears cascading down your cheeks. "I wish you were still here," you whisper, your words filled with sorrow and longing.

....... ≿━━━━༺MINGYU༻━━━━≾ .......

[scuderiasundays]

better together

summary: airline lounges, box box widgets, and a cheesy greeting card 💌

words: 1,045

a/n: the romcom girlie in me has always wanted to write a meet-cute and i've been listening to too much lizzy mcalpine! tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, @ssainzz, @diorleclerc, and @userlando just because. let me know if you'd want a part two! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼

Love comes when you least expect it. Those same old words had fallen from the lips of every person you knew, so much so that they now felt weightless. On this particular evening, you found yourself at your best friend’s wedding reception, zoning out at the open bar. You nodded along as some man who’d had one too many G&T’s rambled on about his meet-cute on the Paris metro. Seeing two people you adored make a lifelong commitment only reaffirmed the fact that you craved the same.

It was no secret you weren’t exactly the MVP of the single scene. On any given night out, you’d leave the club before midnight to get a full eight-hour snooze. Dating apps were a no-no, as reruns of Catfish had made you skeptical about “finding the one” online. At work, you kept a low profile, socializing just enough to have a tight circle of work friends. It was as if you were coasting on autopilot, wanting love but hesitant to steer towards it.

Not to say that being single was all bad. Every hard-earned dollar was invested right back into the things you loved: trips, clothes, and your dog Cannoli. You silently weighed the pros and cons of your lifestyle as you stepped into the airline lounge.

Setting down your latest read to save your seat, you made your way to the breakfast buffet and grabbed a plate of avocado toast, poached eggs, and a glass of orange juice. On your way back, you spotted someone in a hoodie and cap making themselves at home in the armchair opposite yours.

The whole lounge was virtually empty, and this just had to be his seat of choice? You slowly approached from behind and let out a quiet gasp as you noticed them flipping through your book. “Love languages, huh?” The man pointed at the cover and smiled.

Your pupils dilated twice their size as you registered just who it was. The fan-made bracelets, the Leica, and, most of all, the signature McLaren cap—it all fell into place. “My manager and I just got into a huge argument, and honestly, I’d rather be anywhere but with him right now. Do you mind if I-" He gestured towards the seat beside you, his eyes radiating a silent plea.

“No problem. Let me give you your space,” you responded, hastily gathering your things. Just as you were about to step away, his hand gently clasped your wrist. “I could use the company. I’m Bob, by the way,” he mumbled, oblivious to the fact that his cover was blown.

As in, you knew he was currently seventh place in the driver’s championship and slowly but surely climbing up the standings. The last thing he needed was for you to bring any of that up, so you did as he said, trying to give him a sense of normalcy he so deserved.

He headed to the breakfast buffet and returned with the very items you had selected. "Copying me?" you teased. “First step in getting to know you,” he grinned. Curious about your life, he asked about your job in the emergency room. You told him the hours were grueling but watching extremely sick patients leave healthy made it all worthwhile. "Hope I never end up being your patient," he joked.

His interest didn't stop there; he inquired about siblings (only child), your dream vacation destination (Antibes), and whether you were a dog or cat person (not even a question). You, being a proud dog mom, wanted to show your furry guy off and handed Lando your phone.

As he squinted at your phone, you heard him say, "7 days to go. United States Grand Prix." A wave of panic washed over you as you remembered the Box Box widget that also occupied your screen. The silence was deafening as you wished the ground would swallow you up. 

“Let me see the app,” He said. You normally wouldn’t have acquiesced so quickly, but you crumbled and unlocked your phone. He appeared to scroll and click a few things before he handed it back. “Widget Preferences. Constructor: McLaren? Driver: Lando Norris?” You asked as you noticed he’d made some selections.

“You hadn’t bothered with the preferences, so I took the liberty of choosing.” He blushed as the awkwardness of it all hung in the air. “That doesn’t feel fair. I’ve had all this time to get to know you, and I can’t say the same for the other drivers.” You teasingly retorted.

“I'll let the guys know they're in a tight race for your heart." He snickered. The man was on the verge of tears when his manager came by to remind him of his impending flight. “Flight’s in an hour, Lando,” snapped him right back to reality.

He entrusted you with his bags as he ran out to run a quick pre-flight errand. You couldn’t help but squeal the second Lando had vanished from view. What kind of magic was in the air at this airport and could it be bottled?

You tapped through your best friend’s Instagram stories as you awaited his return. The nearly empty lounge echoed as Lando asked a nearby gentleman for a pen and jotted something down. Breathless, he handed you a card, urging you to read it later.

"Your shoelace is untied," he mentioned, and as he bent down to tie it, his blue-green eyes met yours. 

The British racing driver left your life in the abrupt way he had entered it. You took in the card, decked out with drawings of mac and cheese, milk and cereal, and avocado and toast, captioned "Better Together" at the bottom.

It was the only card in the store, but it felt just right. You highlighted “words of affirmation” as your love language, so I thought I’d give this a go. Thanks for keeping me company. Talk soon? - LN 

His number was scribbled at the end. You quickly changed your lock screen widget to showcase his stats and took a screenshot to send his way.

New look. I might be biased, but I think you just became my favorite driver. Let's see if you can keep it up.

He replied right away.

I like the sound of that. When can I see you again?