#mango......... thanks for making it possible for me to just ramble......

[cressidagrey]

White Horse - Chapter 9: November 2023 - Part 1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Isabelle Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen is a World Champion. Isabelle Leclerc is invisible.

She watched her family give up everything for Charles’ career—Arthur’s karting, their father’s savings, even her childhood horse. She understood. She never asked for more.

But Max does. He notices the things no one else does, listens when no one else will, and puts her first in ways she never imagined. With him, she isn’t an afterthought—she’s a choice. And for the first time, she realizes she doesn’t have to be invisible.

Warnings and Notes: 

we have now moved on from Charles bashing to bashing his whole family, Discussions of toxic past relationships, talk about loosing a childhood pet, toxic families...I think that's it?

Part 1 of November, Part 2 will follow.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/PitLanePrincess: Isabelle Leclerc is the ultimate fashion inspiration for people who actually have to get dressed for work. A thread on why she’s the best follow if you want outfits that are stylish and wearable. 🧵⬇️

@/PitLanePrincess: Love the WAGs who serve high fashion, but let’s be real—I am not showing up to a Monday meeting in a full Mugler catsuit. Isabelle? She gives you real outfits. Blazer, midi skirt, chic top = effortless. 

@/PitLanePrincess: She mixes high and low so well, but the best part? She actually responds when people ask where things are from.

@/PitLanePrincess: She genuinely answers people??? I messaged her once about a bag, fully expecting nothing, and she just. Replied. Like a normal person.

@/PitLanePrincess: I swear she could afford to wear designer head-to-toe, but she chooses to mix H&M, Mango, and Zara with her Max Mara coats and Chanel flats. It’s aspirational but still possible.

@/PitLanePrincess: She rewears things!!! Some of these girls wear a $6K dress once and never again. Meanwhile, Isabelle’s been styling the same Max Mara coat for three years and making it look fresh.

@/PitLanePrincess: Also, she actually wears realistic shoes?? No five-inch stilettos, just sleek boots or comfy-yet-chic heels..

@/workwearqueen: If I ever ran into her in real life, I just know she’d be so sweet. Like, I could compliment her outfit, and she’d compliment mine back.

@/GridGossip: Some of these WAGs are giving editorial fantasy, which I love, but Isabelle is the one actually giving wearable inspiration.

@/everydayelevated: Isabelle Leclerc, if you see this, just know we appreciate you 🫶💖

***

The first time, Isabelle didn’t even think about it.

Max’s grey sweater—the one he practically lived in—had a hole in the sleeve. She watched him tug at the fraying threads absentmindedly, completely unaware of how worn it looked, how it sagged off his frame like it had given up.

So the next time she was out, she picked up a new one. Nothing dramatic. Same color. Same softness. Just... better. Better fabric. Better fit. Something that looked like him, only a little more cared for.

When she handed him the small box later that night, she hesitated—half-expecting him to shrug it off or barely notice.

"Your old one was falling apart," she said quickly, when he raised an eyebrow at the offering.

Max lifted the sweater out, turning it over in his hands. Then, with typical nonchalance, he peeled off the old one right there in the living room and tugged the new one on.

Isabelle watched carefully as he moved, adjusting the sleeves, testing the stretch.

After a moment, he nodded, satisfied. "Yeah. This is nice."

She exhaled, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. He didn’t realize it, but that was all the encouragement she needed.

After that, it started happening more and more.

A pair of jeans—no longer skin tight but a more relaxed fit that flattered his strong thighs… A new jacket—light, practical, something he would actually wear but wouldn’t make her wince when she saw it in photos.

She was careful. Isabelle never pushed, never tried to change how he dresses. Max liked simple, comfortable clothes, and she respected that. 

 She just made sure those things fit properly. Looked effortless instead of careless.

She told herself she wasn’t interfering.

She really meant to believe that.

But then Max walked into the living room one afternoon wearing an ancient Red Bull polo—wrinkled, slightly faded from too many washes—paired with sagging sweatpants that looked like they might give out at any moment.

Isabelle, mid-scroll on her phone, just... stopped.

Stared.

"Max, mon amour," she said carefully, setting her phone down. "Do you actually like that shirt?"

He looked down, frowning as if only now realizing what he was wearing. "Uh... yeah?"

"Are you sure?"

His frown deepened. "...Should I not?"

She sighed, standing up and crossing the room, smoothing down the skewed collar. "It's fine," she lied, fingers lingering longer than necessary. "But... you’re a world champion. You could look like it off-track too."

Max raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Are you saying I dress badly?"

Isabelle paused, choosing her words with painstaking care. "I’m saying... you have potential."

Max squinted at her, crossing his arms. "I wear what’s comfortable."

"I know," she said patiently. "But comfort and style aren’t enemies. You can have both."

Max narrowed his eyes, suspicious. "Are you planning something?"

"No," she said, way too quickly.

Which was how, the very next day, she dragged him into a high-end boutique in Monaco.

Max resisted, obviously. He grumbled when she handed him a proper button-down. Scoffed at the tailored jacket she picked out. Refused—loudly—the first two pairs of trousers she suggested.

It took a fair amount of coaxing���and maybe a few well-placed kisses—to get him into the fitting room.

But when he stepped out...

Isabelle knew.

She folded her arms across her chest and smirked as Max caught sight of himself in the mirror and visibly paused.

The sharp lines of the jacket, the way the button-down skimmed his frame, the clean, simple look that made him seem even more confident, even more himself—it was all there, clear as day.

"Huh," Max said, tilting his head.

"Huh," Isabelle echoed, smug.

Max frowned at his reflection, pulling at the jacket slightly, testing the fit. His mouth twitched—like he hated to admit it—but even he couldn’t deny what he saw.

"Alright," he muttered. "Maybe you have a point."

Isabelle beamed, grabbing another item off the rack with a glint in her eye.

"Good," she said, already handing it to him.  "Because we’re just getting started."

***

Max learned pretty quickly that shopping with Isabelle wasn’t a quick in-and-out mission.

It was a strategic operation. A full-scale reorganization of his wardrobe. And apparently, his entire life.

At first, he protested. Loudly.

“I don’t need that many clothes,” he grumbled as she held up yet another impeccably tailored jacket, inspecting it with that critical little tilt of her head.

“Yes, you do,” Isabelle said without even looking at him. “You can’t wear Red Bull merch everywhere, Max.”

“I literally can,” he pointed out.

She gave him a look—the kind that somehow managed to say you absolute idiot without her even opening her mouth.

“And you shouldn’t,” she said sweetly.

He groaned, but he took the jacket from her anyway, grumbling under his breath as he did.

By the time they left the boutique, Max was carrying more bags than he had ever carried in his life.

 He looked like a particularly fashionable pack mule.

He kept muttering about "overkill" and "consumerism," but every time they passed a shop window, he caught himself glancing sideways—checking the fit of his new coat, adjusting the collar just slightly. He thought Isabelle didn’t notice.

She noticed.

She just didn’t say anything. Smugness was a reward best delayed.

That night, Max thought the ordeal was over.

It wasn’t.

Isabelle helped him “put everything away”—which, he quickly realized, meant completely dismantling his existing wardrobe.

At first, she just meant to hang the new things up neatly. Then she opened the closet.

And froze.

"This is a disaster," she said, hands on her hips.

Max, lying sprawled across the bed and scrolling through his phone, barely glanced up.  "It’s fine."

"It’s not fine," Isabelle said, already pulling out a hoodie that looked like it had been through a minor war.

Within minutes, there were piles everywhere—keep, donate, burn immediately—and Max could only watch as his closet was systematically conquered.

When she was finally done, the place looked... Organized. Manageable. Almost stylish.

Max sat up, surveying the damage. "Wow," he deadpanned. "It’s like I live here and yet I have no control over my own belongings."

Isabelle smirked, smoothing out a freshly hung blazer like a queen surveying her kingdom. "You don’t," she said, utterly unapologetic. "I do now."

Max shook his head but didn’t argue.

Instead, he stayed right where he was, watching her fold a few sweaters with that little furrow of concentration she always got when she was focused.

A thought crossed his mind, and he grinned.

"You’re enjoying this," he accused.

She shrugged, not even pretending to deny it. "I like making sure you look good."

Max swung his legs off the bed, stood, and crossed the room to wrap his arms around her from behind.

"I already do look good," he teased, resting his chin on her shoulder, feeling her laugh vibrate against him.

She hummed, pretending to think it over. "Hmm. You look better now."

Max laughed, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. "Fine. You win."

Isabelle turned in his arms, smiling up at him like she knew exactly how thoroughly she had just triumphed.

"You’ll thank me later," she promised.

And he did.

When he walked into the paddock a few days later—wearing a properly fitted shirt, no skinny jeans, no wrinkled team hoodie in sight—he caught the double takes.

The subtle stares. The media whispers. Even a few casual compliments from people who usually didn’t say a word to him about anything off-track.

Max just smirked, tugging his new jacket straight as he passed by.

Yeah.

Isabelle was right.

Again.

And maybe—maybe—he didn’t mind at all.

***

Instagram Post: @/f1hq

Comments: 

@/LightsOutMemez: Forget the championship. The biggest win of the season is whoever got Max out of those cursed skinny jeans.

↳@/PaddockSpy: Max Verstappen in an outfit that actually fits him… we are witnessing history.

↳@/ChecoMode: You’re telling me Max Verstappen had style potential this whole time and we never knew???

@/GridGossip: I don’t know what’s more shocking—the fact that Max won again or the fact that he did it while dressed like an actual style icon.

@/YukiFanClub: The only logical explanation is that Max’s girlfriend run interference. No man just wakes up one day and decides to dress better ON HIS OWN.

↳@/WAGWatch: Whoever picked this outfit, we thank you for your service.

↳@/RedBullChaos: This is definitely the work of a woman. And we love her for it.

↳@/PaddockSpy: I don’t know who’s responsible for Max Verstappen’s wardrobe glow-up, but I hope they’re having a great day.

@/ChecoP1: Max Verstappen’s biggest flex isn’t his trophies. It’s the fact that he now has functional drip.

↳@/MaxAndCats33: If he posts a mirror selfie in this outfit with his CATS, I’m actually going to lose my mind.

@/RedBullChaos: This is definitely the work of a woman. And we love her for it.

@/PaddockSpy: I don’t know who’s responsible for Max Verstappen’s wardrobe glow-up, but I hope they’re having a great day.

@/SoftLaunchDetective: First, he dresses better. Next, he starts smiling more. Before you know it, he’s dropping a blurry hand pic on his story.

↳@/DRSDrama: If this man posts one artsy Instagram story of his hand intertwined with someone else’s, I’m DONE.

@/FIAFits: The fact that it took this long for Max to upgrade his wardrobe tells me that he fought this change for MONTHS.

@/DTSTherapist: This is like when a man gets a haircut after years of looking the same and suddenly everyone realizes he’s actually attractive.

↳@/SoftLaunchAnon: Max Verstappen having a wardrobe evolution was not on my 2023 bingo card.

@/PaddockFashion: Okay but the best part is that it’s still so Max. Just… upgraded.

↳@/OversteerStyle: It’s like someone took his usual wardrobe and just refined it a little. No drastic changes, just subtle improvements.

↳@/TireDegTrends: He’s still wearing jeans, just… normal-fitting ones. And the shirt? Still casual, but suddenly it works.

↳@/StyleUnderCut: This is the equivalent of adding a subtle aero upgrade that shaves off two tenths per lap.

↳@/WAGWatch: Whoever did this didn’t erase Max’s essence, they just polished it. A true masterclass.

@/DriveToSurviveChaos: Netflix better not cut this from the next season. This is important.

***

The first thing Lewis Hamilton noticed when he walked into the paddock was not the weather, or the press, or even his own team's busy chatter.

It was Max Verstappen.

Specifically, Max Verstappen looking... polished.

Lewis actually stopped mid-step, doing a blatant double-take.

Max wasn't wearing the usual crumpled team polo and horrendous skinny jeans combo he seemed genetically programmed for. No. Today, Max was wearing dark, well-fitted jeans, a simple but perfectly tailored black jacket over a clean, crisp white t-shirt. His hair looked like it had seen a brush in the last 24 hours. His trainers were still comfortable, yes—but new. Coordinated.

Lewis stared at him like he was an alien.

"Am I in the wrong paddock?" Lewis muttered under his breath.

George Russell sidled up next to him, carrying a coffee, and followed his gaze.

He whistled low under his breath. "Well, well, well. Look who discovered fashion."

Lewis shook his head slowly. "No, I'm serious. What happened. Who is that."

Max caught sight of them then, gave a casual nod, utterly unfazed.

George narrowed his eyes, studying him.

"I mean... he's still Max," George said. "Just upgraded."

Lewis blinked, stunned. "I didn't even know he owned a jacket without a sponsor logo on it."

"Maybe," George said, taking a slow sip of his coffee, "maybe it's the girlfriend effect."

Lewis turned to him. "The what?"

George shrugged, completely serious. "You get a girlfriend who actually cares about what you look like, and suddenly—" He gestured vaguely at Max. "—that happens."

Lewis frowned. "He’s had girlfriends before."

George grinned. "Yeah, but he’s never dressed like he wanted to impress anyone before."

Lewis squinted, suspicious. "Do we even know if he has a girlfriend?"

George raised an eyebrow. "Do you think he picked that jacket out himself?"

Lewis opened his mouth. Closed it. "...Good point."

Meanwhile, Max strolled past them, earbuds in, calm as anything. No logos, no oversized hoodie, no worn-out sweatpants. Just effortless, unsettling effort.

Lewis watched him go, still frowning.

"I don’t like it," he muttered.

George laughed. "You’re just mad because he’s pulling it off."

Lewis huffed. "I’m mad because now I have to outdress Max Verstappen. And that was never supposed to happen."

George clapped him on the back, grinning. "Welcome to the new world order, mate."

As Max disappeared into the Red Bull hospitality, several team members turned to watch him too, murmuring quietly.

Because when even Max Verstappen starts dressing suspiciously well... You know something’s up.

***

Daniel Ricciardo was minding his own business—sort of—lounging near the espresso machine, casually watching the paddock buzz by, when Max walked in.

Daniel did a casual glance up—and promptly choked on his coffee.

Because there was Max.  Wearing tailored jeans. A clean, fitted jacket. A proper, ironed t-shirt. Looking... put together in a way that was frankly illegal.

Daniel slammed his cup down, pointed at him dramatically across the hospitality lounge. "You. Stop."

Max paused mid-stride, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. "What?"

Daniel stood up, hands on his hips. "You can't just waltz in here looking like a Zara model on casual Friday and act like nothing happened."

Max gave a tiny, infuriating smirk. "I can and I did."

"No, no, no." Daniel waved a hand wildly. "You look suspiciously… functional. Coordinated. You match, Max."

Max just shrugged like it was no big deal. "Maybe I learned."

Daniel squinted at him. "No," he said. "Someone taught you."

Max gave him a pointedly neutral look.

And that’s when Daniel grinned.

 Like the world's most annoying lightbulb had gone off over his head.

He practically cackled as he leaned in.

 "YOUR GIRLFRIEND."

Max said nothing. Not a word.

 Which was exactly how Daniel knew he was right.

"You absolute simp," Daniel whispered, giddy. "You let her overhaul your entire wardrobe."

Max rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the tiny flicker of a smile.

Daniel clasped a hand over his heart. "God, I love love."

"Shut up," Max muttered, but there was no heat in it.

Daniel leaned back, arms crossed, studying him. "So what’s next, mate? Weekly skincare routines? Matching Christmas jumpers?"

Max gave him a long-suffering look. "If you tell anyone—"

Daniel grinned wider. "Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me." He paused, then added gleefully, "Mostly because everyone else already suspects something."

Max groaned.

Daniel beamed. "Can’t wait for you to show up next race weekend in proper loafers and a linen shirt. Monaco chic."

Max muttered something in Dutch under his breath that was probably deeply unflattering.

Daniel just slung an arm around his shoulder anyway, still laughing.

"You," Daniel said fondly, "are so whipped, and it’s beautiful."

Max shoved him off, but he was smiling—real, relaxed, the way he only was when he let his guard down completely.

***

The room was too quiet when she entered the meeting in the evening.

Isabelle felt it the moment she stepped in—like walking into a room where someone had just been talking about you. That sticky tension. The abrupt silence. The way no one met her eye.

She sat down, opened her laptop, and waited.

The project lead began reviewing the concept pitch. It was hers. Her layout. Her color palette. Her vendor list. But her name? Nowhere on the slides.

No credit. No mention.

Léa was presenting it like it had fallen from the sky.

And no one blinked.

Isabelle closed her laptop.

Slowly. Deliberately.

“Interesting,” she said, her voice smooth. “I must’ve blacked out while watching someone else design my project.”

Léa blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

The room stilled.

For a moment, Isabelle said nothing else. Just looked at them. Really looked—at the two junior designers who’d whispered and sabotaged, at the project manager who let it happen, at the senior designer who'd praised her ideas only to present them as someone else's.

“You’ve all been treating me like I don’t belong here since the day I started,” she said, calm and clear. “At first I thought it was because I was new. Then I thought maybe it was because of my last name. But now I understand—it’s because you’re afraid of me.”

Léa scoffed. “Afraid? Please.”

Isabelle turned to her. “Yes. Afraid. Because you’ve seen what I can do. You’ve seen how good I am. And instead of rising to meet me, you’ve spent months trying to cut me down.”

She stood. Quiet. Unshakable.

“You tried to twist my success into nepotism. You told people I only got clients because of who my brother is.” She paused. “You do realize I designed Max Verstappen’s penthouse, right? I didn’t just walk through it and fluff pillows. I created it. Every material. Every layout. Every detail. Because he trusted me. Not the Leclerc name. Me.”

No one moved.

“And the irony?” Isabelle continued, voice like silk on steel. “You thought I wouldn’t fight back. Because I’m quiet. Because I’m kind. Because I don’t yell or gossip or throw people under the bus.”

She tilted her head, smile sharp.

“You mistook my silence for weakness. That was your first mistake.”

A long pause.

Then she picked up her laptop, her bag, and her portfolio binder.

“I’m resigning effective immediately,” she said. “I refuse to spend another second giving my talent to people who try to tear me down instead of rising up themselves.”

She walked toward the door, paused, and turned back.

“One more thing,” she added, eyes narrowing. “The next time you decide to steal someone’s work, you might want to make sure they’re not ten times the designer you are.”

Then she left.

No one stopped her.

***

Team Redline Stream – Transcript

(Stream already in progress. Max is mid-race, casually chatting with the guys and chat.)

Max: "Yeah, I’m alone tonight. Again. My girlfriend’s still at work."

Luke Crane: "Is she ever not at work?"

Max: (Sighs.) "Rarely. I keep telling her it’s too much, but she says she’s fine."

Chris Lulham: "Classic."

Chat:

The way Max sounds so fed up"She says she’s fine" <- she is absolutely not fineBro is one bad day away from staging a full interventionTell her we said QUITHe’s about to unionize her workplace himself

(Max continues driving, glancing off-screen every so often. His focus flickers.)

(A door opens in the background. Max immediately looks up.)

Max: "Oh, you’re home." (Pauses.) "It’s almost midnight."

(A short silence. Max’s expression shifts.)

Max: "You haven’t eaten yet?" (His eyes narrow.) "Why? What do you mean you forgot?"

Chris: "Uh-oh."

Luke: "It’s happening."

Chat:

MOTHER HEN VERSTAPPEN HAS LOGGED INRIP to her but Max is about to lecture her for 20 minutesSomewhere, Jos is crying because Max turned into his momRed Bull gives you wings, but Max gives you forced meals

Max: (Grumbling in Dutch.) "You work all day and don’t eat? That’s not okay." (Pauses, then scoffs.) "No, I don’t care if you’re ‘not hungry.’ You’re eating something."

Chris: "Do you even know how to cook?"

Max: (Flatly.) "I know how to order food, Chris."

Gianni Vecchio: "Yeah, she’s doomed."

(Max is still focused on the conversation off-screen, visibly exasperated. Then, suddenly, he freezes mid-turn, his entire body going still.)

Max: "...Wait. What?"

(Silence. His mouth opens slightly, then closes. He blinks.)

Max: "You quit your job?"

Chris: "OH?"

Gianni: "HELLO?"

Chat:

SHE DID WHAT NOWMAX IS BUFFERINGDID WE MANIFEST THIS????Homie forgot how to drive for a second

Max: (Still staring off-screen, jaw slightly slack.) "Wait, like—actually? You actually quit?"

(A few beats of silence. Then, suddenly, Max exhales and leans back in his chair, shaking his head with a smirk.)

Max: "Finally."

Gianni: "Finally?"

Max: (Grinning now.) "Yes, finally! I’ve been telling her for months to leave. They treated her like shit."

Chris: "You sound happier about this than she probably is."

Max: "Because she deserves better. I told her that place wasn’t good enough for her." (Pauses, then softer.) "They should’ve known better than to treat her like that."

Chat:

MAX VERSTAPPEN, NUMBER ONE SUPPORTER

"Finally" LMFAO bro has been WAITING

He’s so relieved omg

Someone check on her ex-boss, they just felt a chill

Bro went from shocked to proud so fast

Red Bull Racing HR is shaking rn

I need a Max Verstappen in my life

Max: (Still grinning, shaking his head.) "So what now?" (Pauses, listening.) "Yeah? Taking time off? Good. You need it."

(His tone softens slightly, his expression fond. Chat goes feral.)

Chris: "So no more insane work hours?"

Max: (Smirks.) "Nope. Now it’s just insane hours listening to me talk about my simulator settings."

Chat:

She quit her job and he’s acting like he won his fourth titleMax really went "welcome to unemployment, babe"Bro is GLOWINGSupportive boyfriend era is PEAKING

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

📌 @/F1TeaSpill: MAX VERSTAPPEN ON STREAM JUST CASUALLY DROPPED THAT HIS GIRLFRIEND QUIT HER JOB AND WENT "FINALLY." BRO HAS BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT 😭😭

↳ @/RacingGirlie: THE WAY HE WAS SO READY WITH THAT RESPONSE LMFAO 💀 ↳ @/TireDegradationStan: He forgot how to drive for a second. The shock was REAL.

@/GridGossip: Max Verstappen finding out his girlfriend quit her job and IMMEDIATELY going: ✅ "Finally." ✅ "They treated you like shit." ✅ "You deserve better."

Boyfriend of the YEAR.

↳ @/MonacoMafia: Bro is celebrating her resignation more than his championships 😭 ↳ @/DR3nation: She quit her job and he’s THRIVING ↳ @/RedBullSimps: The way he went from SHOCKED to RELIEVED in under five seconds

@/F1GirlfriendsAnonymous: Not Max Verstappen exposing himself as the softest, most supportive boyfriend alive. He really said: 🔹 "You deserve better." 🔹 "If they don’t respect you, don’t waste your time there." 🔹 "Take time off, you deserve it."

And y’all still think he’s cold???

↳ @/DutchLion44: THE WAY HE WAS SO SINCERE ABOUT IT 🥺 ↳ @/​​OversteerOverlord: This man went from "I have no emotions" to "I will support my girlfriend unconditionally" real fast

@/FormulaLover: "NO MORE LATE NIGHTS AT WORK?" "NO, JUST LATE NIGHTS LISTENING TO ME COMPLAIN ABOUT SIMULATOR SETTINGS."

MAX PLS 😭

↳ @/PitStopPrincess: Her old boss just felt a chill down their spine ↳ @/DannyRicFave: Soft!Max is the best Max. I don’t make the rules.

@/PaddockChaos: How much do you bet that Max has been trying to convince his girlfriend to be his full-time trophy wife for MONTHS and she just wasn’t having it 💀

↳ @/RedBullRacingWife: "Finally." <- That was a man who has been campaigning for this moment ↳ @/GridTeaSpill: You KNOW he’s been like "you don’t need to work, just stay home, I’ll buy you whatever you want" and she’s been like "absolutely not" 💀💀 ↳ @/OvertakeAddict: Mans was celebrating her quitting before SHE even processed it 💀

@/MonacoMafia: MAX WAS SO READY FOR THIS MOMENT 😭 "Finally" <- that’s not just relief, that’s VICTORY.

↳ @/DutchLion44: He’s been battling corporate capitalism on her behalf for MONTHS ↳ @/PaddockGossip: He really wanted her to be living that soft life and she was like "Nah, I have a job" 😂 ↳ @/RaceStrategyFails: Man had a 10-step plan for her retirement and she foiled it by having ambition

@/F1TinfoilHat: Max Verstappen trying to turn his girlfriend into a trophy wife and failing is so funny to me. Like you just KNOW he was pulling out all the stops. 🚗 "You can have any car you want." 🏠 "Live anywhere you want." 💍 "You don’t need to work, just be with me." And she really went, "No, I have emails to answer."

↳ @/RB20Fan: She quit her job and he was the happiest person in the room 😭 ↳ @/F1MemesDaily: Plot twist: She’s about to find another job and he’s gonna LOSE IT 💀

@/LightsOutMax: Max Verstappen has won three world championships, dominated the grid, and still lost to his girlfriend’s corporate job.

↳ @/SoftMaxFan: The way he’s been fighting for MONTHS and she was just like "No ❤️" �� @/PaddockPrincess: Bro was ready to pay her a salary just to stay home and she STILL refused 💀💀 ↳ @/F1Spill: "Finally." <- that was not just relief, that was a mission accomplished moment

@/RedBullGirlie: I need someone to ask Max in an interview if he ever tried to get his girlfriend to be a full-time trophy wife because I know he did

↳ @/PaddockClown: He absolutely pitched it like a Red Bull contract ↳ @/​​RB20Fanatic: "I can provide you with a top-tier environment, all the resources you need, and a long-term vision for the future." ↳ @/DR3Memes: Drive to Survive voice "And in that moment, Max Verstappen realized… he was not winning this one."

@/FrontRowF1: I don’t even think Max was mad that she worked. He was mad that they treated her badly. Boyfriend of the Year tbh.

↳ @/RB19Stans: Yeah, his first reaction after shock was pure rage at her old job 😭 ↳ @/F1Himbos: He was 100% ready to go to war with that company ↳ @/Lap1Drama: He’s been FUMING about how they treated her and now he won

@/F1Takes: Max Verstappen was sitting there on stream like:

👀 "Wait, you quit?" 😳 "You actually quit?" 😌 "Finally." 😤 "They treated you like shit anyway."

Sir, have you been campaigning for this???

↳ @/PitLaneGossip: Bro had an entire strategy in place. He’s been pushing this agenda for MONTHS. ↳ @/RB19Forever: His immediate relief tells me he lost sleep over this job more than SHE did 💀 ↳ @/MonacoMadness: Man heard "I quit" and didn’t even process it before celebrating

@/SoftVerstappen: Max really thought his biggest opponent was Lewis Hamilton when in reality it was his girlfriend’s work ethic

↳ @/PaddockTea: Man has three world titles and 0 influence over her career choices 😂 ↳ @/DR3Fanatic: She’s out there being an independent woman and he’s just like please let me fund your life↳ @/GridGossip: I fully believe he has pitched the trophy wife life at least once and got rejected immediately

@/MaxForPresident: Max celebrating his girlfriend quitting like it’s his own career milestone is so FUNNY to me

↳ @/PodiumPredictions: She said "I quit" and he unlocked a new level of happiness↳ @/SoftTyresOnly: The way he’s genuinely delighted while she’s probably still processing it 💀 ↳ @/MonacoMafia: If she gets a new job he might actually riot

@/LandoStan33: Max Verstappen is a billionaire and his girlfriend still refused to quit her job for OVER A YEAR. Queen behavior.

↳ @/OvertakeObsessed: She refused to be a WAG full-time and he just had to deal with it

@/MonacoMadness: Max: "They don’t respect you. Just quit." Her: "I like working." Couldn’t have been me. You think I’d rather be working than living the dream as a rich man’s problem?

↳ @/Lap1Drama: Imagine saying NO to Max Verstappen telling you to never work again ↳ @/PodiumPredictions: The way I would’ve handed in my resignation the second he hinted at it↳ @/F1TeaSpill: Why suffer at a 9-5 when you could be a full-time F1 WAG???

@/MidfieldMess: I respect Max’s girlfriend for standing her ground but personally? I would have been at home in silk pajamas with a cat by now.

↳ @/RB20Memes: If my man said, "Quit your job, I’ll take care of you," I’d be gone in 0.2 seconds.↳ ↳ @/DR3Laughs: Max’s girlfriend WORKED while he was literally BEGGING her to relax. I COULD NEVER.

↳ @/RB19Tactics: I’d be in Pilates class at 10 AM on a Tuesday living my best life ↳ @​​/SoftMaxFan: She really CHOSE to work when she could’ve been a full-time rich girlfriend.↳ @/OvertakeGuru: RESPECT TO HER but I would’ve folded immediately.

@/GridGossip: Max Verstappen’s girlfriend really QUIT HER JOB on her own terms, months after he told her to, and not because he’s a billionaire but because she finally decided she was done.

SHE REALLY DOES NOT CARE ABOUT HIS MONEY.

↳ @/SoftVerstappen: This is actually insane. ↳ @​​RB19Defense: Girl had a multi-millionaire boyfriend BEGGING her to quit and she STILL waited. ↳ @/LightsOutRB: She worked herself into the ground because she didn’t want to rely on him??? Couldn’t be me.

***

At first, Isabelle seemed fine.

She took a shower, scarfed down a sandwich…and then she just sat on the couch, staring at nothing. 

“So… how does it feel to be unemployed?”

Isabelle turned to face him with a breezy smile. “Great. Amazing, actually. I should’ve done it sooner.”

Max folded his arms across his chest, not buying it for a second. "Uh-huh."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"

"You’re saying that like someone who is definitely not fine," Max said.

She rolled her eyes. "I just don’t see the point in dwelling on it."

"Okay. But not dwelling isn’t the same as being fine."

She laughed, short and sharp. "Max, I quit a job that was making me miserable. I did the right thing."

"Yeah," Max agreed easily. "But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel weird."

He could see the argument forming on her face—the automatic instinct to insist she was fine, she was strong, she could handle anything.

But then she hesitated.

Her mouth opened like she was about to say something else—something defensive, probably—but instead, her face crumpled.

 And just like that, she was crying.

“Oh, Schatje.” Max pulled her into his arms without hesitation.

"I don’t know why I’m crying," Isabelle mumbled against his shirt, voice thick with tears.

"Because it’s a big change," Max said quietly, rubbing slow circles over her back. "Because you worked hard for that job, even if it sucked. Because you’re human, and this stuff is hard."

She sniffled against him. "I feel stupid."

"You’re not stupid," he said firmly, dropping a kiss into her hair. "You’re figuring it out. That’s brave."

She exhaled shakily, the tension in her shoulders finally starting to unravel. "I don’t even know where to start."

Max grinned. “Well, in the meantime, you can always be my trophy wife.”

That earned a wet, incredulous laugh. “Excuse me?”

“You know, live a life of luxury. Lounge around, spend my money—”

“I’m not going to be your trophy wife.”

“Why not? You’d be great at it.”

“I like working,” she shot back, slipping out of his embrace just enough to glare at him.

Max smirked. “Yeah, but you also like expensive pastries, and being my trophy wife means you can have as many as you want.”

She groaned, wiping at her face. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are, still crying all over me,” Max teased, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Isabelle huffed. “Fine. I’ll be your trophy wife for a week. Just to try it.”

“Deal,” Max said easily. “I’ll even buy you a designer handbag.”

She laughed again, finally looking a little more like herself. “You are ridiculous.”

***

Meanwhile on Twitter: 

@/F1Spotted: Y’all, Max Verstappen just walked into Chanel Monaco, and I’ve never seen a man more determined in my life.

@/SoftCompound: What’s the vibe? Casual browsing or “I know exactly what I want” levels of confidence?

@/F1Spotted: He walked in, went straight to the handbags, and told the SA, “I need something classic. Not too flashy. She prefers gold hardware.”

@​​/F1Tea: NOT “she prefers gold hardware” ??? Who is SHE???

@/GridGossip: That is a man DEEPLY in love.

@/F1Spotted: The SA showed him a couple of options, and he just went, “That one. I’ll take it.” No hesitation. No second thoughts.

@/RBR_obsessed: Not even checking the price tag 💀💀💀

@/EngineModeYES: The way he’s spending like a man who never wants her to work again.

@/McLarenMemeLord: “She likes gold hardware” AND “I’ll take it” in the same shopping trip… pray for this man, he’s down catastrophically.

@/OversteerFanatic: Do we think this is a “Congrats on quitting your terrible job” gift or a “Please let me keep funding your lifestyle” gift?

@/TyreDegSzn: He’s doubling down on the trophy wife agenda.

@/PadelAndPitStops: Next thing we know, she’ll be posting one of those soft-focus Insta stories of the bag with the caption: “spoiled 💚”

@/F1Spotted: He left with the biggest grin, holding the Chanel bag like it was a trophy.

@/Multi21Pls: He has 3 WDCs but THIS is his greatest achievement.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Emilie Abadie

Isabelle:  I did a thing.

Emilie: Oh god.

Emilie: What kind of “thing”?

Emilie: Like... a normal person thing? Or a you thing?

Isabelle:  I quit my job.

Emilie: ...you WHAT

Isabelle:  I gave notice yesterday.

Isabelle:  Well, technically I handed in my resignation with zero notice.

Isabelle:  So... I guess I just quit.

Emilie: ISABELLE

Isabelle: I know.

Emilie: YOU QUIT Emilie: LIKE Emilie: YOU’RE FREE?

Isabelle: Apparently.

Emilie: Belle. Emilie:  BELLE.Emilie: THIS IS A MOMENT.

Isabelle: I’m half proud, half panicking.

Emilie: That’s valid. Emilie: But mostly: GOOD FOR YOU. Emilie: You’ve been miserable for months. This is overdue.

Isabelle: I just kept thinking I could fix it.

Emilie: You are not a human Band-Aid. Emilie: You do not have to patch up dysfunctional men in button-down shirts.

Isabelle: That’s a very specific burn.

Emilie: It’s targeted and deserved. Emilie: Also: I’m proud of you. Emilie: And I’m taking you out for champagne and carbs.

Isabelle: I don’t know if I want to celebrate or cry in a corner.

Emilie: We’ll do both. 

Isabelle: ...Okay. Isabelle: I could be convinced.

Emilie: I’m ordering us dessert too. You’re unemployed and hot, it’s a new era.

Isabelle: Thank you. I think?

Emilie: You’re welcome. I love you. I’m proud of you. And I swear to god if you try to go back I will physically block the door.

Isabelle: Noted 😅

***

Text Messages: Max Verstappen & Emilie Abadie

Emilie: What have you DONE to my friend.

Emilie: Miss “I’m fine,” Miss “It’s not that bad,” Miss “Maybe if I just do a little more…”

Emilie: She QUIT.

Emilie: HER. JOB.

Emilie: No backup plan. No exit strategy. Just mic drop and walk out.

Max: Yeah. Fantastic, right? Good for her.

Emilie: GOOD???

Emilie: MAX.

Emilie: SHE ACTUALLY STOOD UP FOR HERSELF AND WALKED OUT.

Emilie: Don’t “good for her” me!!

Emilie: I mean yes—good for her, but also

Emilie:​​ who are you

Emilie: and what have you done to the girl who used to apologize to printers when they jammed

Max: I didn’t do anything 🤷‍♂️

Max: She decided on her own.

Max: She deserved better.

Max: She knows that now.

Emilie: You’ve been boyfriend-ing too well

Emilie: She’s out here setting boundaries and reclaiming her peace like a whole queen

Emilie: And I’m just watching it happen like ????

Max: So you’re saying I’m a good influence?

Emilie: I’m saying you’re terrifying

Emilie: She’s turning down nonsense and choosing herself

Emilie: Do you even understand the level of personal growth we’re dealing with?

Max: She deserves it.

Emilie: Yeah. She really does.

Emilie: Also if you hurt her I will throw a stiletto at you. Custom Louboutins. It’ll be personal.

Max: Fair.

***

Isabelle wasn’t even sure why she had let Emilie drag her out shopping today. She didn’t need anything. She barely ever bought anything for herself—at least, nothing extravagant. 

She liked nice things…but she had never been hung up on brands, and she much preferred pieces that didn’t make her look like a walking billboard advertisement for a luxury brand. 

(Though she did quite like the absolutely gorgeous Chanel Flap Bag that Max had presented her with a few days ago. He had kept that ridiculous promise of buying her a handbag and she had been too amused to call him out on it.)

“You know, now that you’ve officially quit your job, we need to celebrate,” Emilie said as they strolled into Hermès.

Oh, right, now she remembered. Namely that she had quit her job literally days ago and was now officially unemployed. 

Isabelle sighed. “This is the celebration,” she said drily. This and the boozy brunch they had had before going shopping. 

“No, no, you buying something is the actual act of celebration.”

“I am not buying another handbag.”

Emilie gave her a flat look. “That’s what you said last time.”

“Yes, and I meant it,” Isabelle shot back. “Max literally bought me a Chanel bag the other day.”

Emilie stopped in her tracks. “He bought you a Chanel bag?”

Isabelle shifted awkwardly. “…Yes.”

“Like, you mentioned it in passing, and he surprised you later? Or was this a ‘we walked into the store, and he casually dropped his credit card’ kind of situation?”

Isabelle sighed, rubbing her temples. “It was a joke.”

“A Chanel bag was a joke?”

“I told him I’d be his trophy wife for a week.”

Emilie looked at her like she’d grown three heads. “And his response was to buy you a Chanel bag?”

“…Yes?” Isabelle said weakly.

Emilie grabbed her by the shoulders. “Isabelle. Your boyfriend is so far gone for you, I don’t think he even remembers what normal human relationships look like.”

Isabelle grimaced, thinking back to that black credit card that was tucked into the back of her wallet. “Can we move on?”

“No. Because you just quit your job, you’re technically unemployed, and your extremely rich, extremely besotted boyfriend is throwing designer bags at you. You are living the trophy wife dream.”

“I am not his trophy wife.”

“I mean, technically, no. But spiritually? You are this close.” Emilie held her fingers an inch apart, eyes gleaming with mischief.

Before Isabelle could protest, a well-dressed sales associate approached with a warm smile. “Miss Leclerc, lovely to see you again.”

Emilie, distracted by a nearby display of silk scarves, barely noticed. “We’d love to see that Kelly bag in black—oh, and maybe the taupe as well.”

The sales associate nodded. “Of course. Mr. Verstappen has his account on file for your purchases.”

Silence.

Emilie’s head snapped up so fast Isabelle was surprised she didn’t give herself whiplash.

“I’m sorry. What did you just say?” Emilie asked, her voice an octave higher than usual.

The associate remained composed. “Mr. Verstappen has set up a standing account for Miss Leclerc. She’s free to make any purchases at her convenience.”

Emilie turned to Isabelle so slowly and so dramatically that Isabelle knew she was never going to hear the end of this.

“Isabelle.” Emilie’s voice was deadly serious. “Are you telling me that Max—your Max—has a shopping account set up for you at Hermès? And you weren’t even going to mention it?”

Isabelle’s face burned. “I— I didn’t think it was important?”

Emilie clutched her own chest like she was on the verge of fainting. “Not important? Isabelle. Your boyfriend is Max Verstappen. He has a personal account at Hermès for you. That means you can walk in here at any time, pick whatever you want, and they just charge it to him?”

The sales associate, clearly trained to deal with these types of reactions, simply nodded. “That is correct.”

Emilie turned back to Isabelle, looking utterly scandalized. “And you don’t use it?”

“I— well, no,” Isabelle admitted, feeling like she was digging herself into a deeper hole. “I don’t need anything.”

Emilie dramatically staggered backward. “I’m sorry. You’re telling me that you could have been out here living your best trophy wife life, and you haven’t been?”

Isabelle groaned. “I knew I shouldn’t have come today.”

Emilie turned back to the associate with a blinding smile. “Yes, please. Bring out everything.” Then, lowering her voice, she added, “And maybe a glass of champagne for me because I need to process the fact that my best friend is living in an actual fairy tale.”

The associate merely nodded, disappearing into the back.

Isabelle folded her arms, glaring at Emilie. “You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m being reasonable,” Emilie countered. “Because, let me get this straight—Max put his credit card on file at one of the most expensive boutiques in Monaco for you to use whenever you want, and you never told me?”

Isabelle groaned, covering her face. “I don’t even use it! I’ve never—”

Emilie held up a hand. “No, no, this is incredible. You could walk in here and buy, like, five bags, and they’d just say, ‘Of course, Miss Leclerc, Mr. Verstappen has already taken care of it.’”

“I’m not doing that!” Isabelle hissed, mortified.

Emilie smirked. “But you could.”

“Em—”

“No, no, let me have this moment.” Emilie leaned against the counter, shaking her head. “I knew he was obsessed with you, but this? This is next-level. Like, top-tier boyfriend behavior. Do you know how many women would kill for this?”

Isabelle sighed. “I don’t want to take advantage of him.”

Emilie threw up her hands. “You wouldn’t be! You’re his girlfriend! He’s obsessed with you! Have you met Max? If anything, he’s probably annoyed you don’t use it more.”

Emilie turned thoughtful for a moment. “Does he do this at other places too? Like, do you walk into Dior and they just start pulling things for you?”

“I don’t know!” Isabelle whisper-yelled. “I don’t go around testing it!”

“Well, you should,” Emilie said firmly. “Because if my boyfriend was this obscenely rich and obsessed with me, you’d best believe I’d be letting him spoil me on principle.”

Before Isabelle could argue, Emilie’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, then cackled. “Oh my God. I’m texting him.”

Isabelle’s eyes widened in horror. “No, do not—”

Too late. Emilie had already typed:

Emilie: Why didn’t you tell me you have a shopping account for Isabelle at Hermès? I just found out and I think I need medical attention.

Seconds later, Max responded.

Max: And?

Emilie turned her phone toward Isabelle with a smug grin. “Look at that. He’s not even fazed.”

Isabelle groaned.

A moment later, another message from Max came through.

Max: She never uses it. Tell her to buy something.

Emilie let out an actual shriek of delight. “I knew it.”

Isabelle covered her face with her hands. “I hate both of you.”

Emilie just smirked, turning back to the sales associate, who had just returned with an armful of options. “Alright, let’s start with the classics.” She turned to Isabelle with a wicked grin. “Because if you don’t pick something, I will.”

Isabelle knew, with absolute certainty, that she had lost this battle, but that didn’t mean she had to go down without a fight.

“I don’t need another bag,” she tried again, crossing her arms as Emilie eagerly surveyed the selection now laid out in front of them. The sales associate had clearly taken Emilie’s enthusiasm as permission to bring out the best pieces—the kind that weren’t just sitting out on the shelves.

Emilie rolled her eyes. “Need? Isabelle, we’re past ‘need.’ This is about principle. Your ridiculously rich boyfriend, who would literally hand you the world if he could, wants you to use his account. And here you are, acting like you don’t deserve it.”

Isabelle shifted uncomfortably. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate Max’s generosity—it was just that… no one had ever really spoiled her before. She had spent so long being overlooked, so long having to sacrifice things for the sake of her family, that being on the receiving end of such thoughtful indulgence felt foreign.

Emilie must have sensed it because her teasing softened into something more gentle. “Hey,” she nudged Isabelle’s arm. “You know Max, right? He’s not the kind of guy who does things halfway. If he put his card on file here, it’s because he wants you to have nice things. Not because he expects anything, not because he’s showing off. Just because he loves you.”

Isabelle exhaled slowly. She did know that. She saw it in the way Max always made sure she ate before he did, in how he paid attention to the little things—how he remembered things about her that even her own family forgot.

Her fingers traced over the soft leather of a cream Verrou bag. It was beautiful. And maybe—just maybe—she could allow herself to accept this part of their relationship.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she looked up at the sales associate. “I’d like this one, please.”

Emilie let out a triumphant squeal. “Finally!”

The associate smiled. “A wonderful choice, Miss Leclerc. We’ll have it wrapped for you shortly.”

Isabelle bit her lip, suddenly feeling a little giddy. It was just a bag. But at the same time… it wasn’t. It was a reminder that, for the first time in her life, she was with someone who didn’t just see her—he cherished her.

As they waited, Emilie picked up her phone and quickly typed something. Isabelle frowned. “What are you doing?”

Emilie smirked. “Updating Max.”

A moment later, his response came through.

Max: Finally.

Isabelle groaned. “You two are a nightmare.”

Emilie grinned. “We’re your nightmare.”

And maybe, just maybe… Isabelle didn’t mind that so much.

***

The sun was warm on her skin as Isabelle let herself be pulled along Avenue de Monte-Carlo, Emilie dragging her from Valentino to Gucci to Miu Miu in a blur of bright storefronts and designer bags.

She should have been tired.

 Instead, she felt a little giddy — her new purchase swinging lightly from her hand, perfect indulgence.

It was a perfect afternoon.

 Until it wasn’t.

Isabelle had always known where she stood in her family. She had learned not to expect invitations, had conditioned herself to not mind when she was left out of things that should have been obvious.

But still—walking into Goyard with Emilie and coming face-to-face with her mother and her brothers’ girlfriends, all out shopping together like some picture-perfect family outing, stung.

They were all standing together, arms full of shopping bags, laughing about something before her mother’s eyes landed on her.

“Oh,” her mother blinked, clearly surprised to see her. “Isabelle.”

Isabelle forced a polite smile. “Maman.” She nodded at the other women. “I didn’t realize you were all going out today.”

The immediate flicker of guilt across her mother’s face told Isabelle everything she needed to know. They hadn’t forgotten to invite her. They just hadn’t thought to include her at all.

“Oh, it was just a last-minute thing,” her mother said quickly, like that made it better. “We thought we’d do a little shopping before lunch.”

A lunch Isabelle wasn’t invited to either, apparently.

Her brothers’ girlfriends, who had always slotted so seamlessly into the family, exchanged glances, clearly uncomfortable. One of them, Charlotte —Lorenzo’s girlfriend—offered a hesitant, “We didn’t think you’d be interested.”

As if Isabelle never had interests. As if she hadn’t spent years watching from the outside, always an afterthought.

Emilie, standing beside her, said nothing. But Isabelle could feel the rage radiating off of her, the way her best friend’s hands had curled into fists.

Isabelle inhaled slowly, pushing back the familiar wave of hurt. She had learned long ago that showing how much this bothered her never got her anywhere. So instead, she kept her voice light, pleasant—graceful in a way they didn’t deserve.

“Well, I hope you’re all having a lovely time,” she said smoothly. “It’s a beautiful day for shopping.”

Her mother smiled, relieved that Isabelle wasn’t making a scene. “Yes, it is. And what about you, ma chérie? Out with a friend?”

“Yes,” Isabelle said simply. “Just enjoying the afternoon.”

She felt Emilie shift beside her, felt the sudden tension in the way her best friend’s grip tightened around her shopping bag.

“Oh, we picked up something special, actually,” Emilie said, voice perfectly even—but Isabelle knew that tone. She was angry.

She held up the unmistakable Hermès bag. Her mother’s gaze flickered to the bag.

“That’s lovely,” she said, her tone still light.

Isabelle just hummed in response. “Well, we won’t keep you.”

And with that, she turned—head held high, posture poised—pulling Emilie along with her.

They were barely out of earshot before Emilie exploded.

“Are you kidding me?”

Isabelle exhaled slowly. “Emilie—”

“No, Belle, no,” Emilie fumed. “They just—what, decided you didn’t even exist today? Like, ‘oh, we’ll just go shopping without Isabelle, she won’t care’?” She scoffed. “And the fact that your mother didn’t even apologize—”

“Em,” Isabelle sighed. “It’s not—”

“Don’t you dare say it’s not a big deal,” Emilie cut in. “Because it is. And I know you. I know it hurts.”

Isabelle swallowed. “I don’t want to think about it.”

Emilie scoffed. “Fine. But you know who would be furious about this?”

Isabelle shot her a look.

Emilie smirked. “Your boyfriend.”

“Em—” she warned.

“Oh, don’t Em me,” Emilie huffed. “You know he’d lose his mind if he found out they just left you out like that.” She paused, then muttered, “Actually, I kind of want to tell him. Just to watch him get all—” She gestured vaguely. “Dutch and possessive and mad.”

Isabelle bit her lip. Because, yeah. Max would be furious.

Emilie turned, eyes blazing. “How are you not furious right now?”

Because she was furious. Because she was hurt. But she had learned—long, long ago—that showing it didn’t make a difference.

So instead, she just smiled faintly. “I have better things to focus on.”

***

Text Conversation: Max Verstappen & Emilie Abadie

Emilie: Just so you know, your girlfriend is too classy for her own good.

Max: ?

Emilie: We just ran into her mother and her brothers’ girlfriends while we were shopping.

Emilie: Guess who wasn’t invited on their little girls’ outing?

Max: Tell me you are kidding. 

Emilie: I wish I was. 

Emilie: They didn’t even try to hide it. Just said it was “last minute”. Charlotte said they didn’t think she’d “be interested”.

Max: Tell her to use the card.

Emilie: What card?

Max: The one in her wallet. Black Card. Behind the receipts she never throws away. My name on the back.  Hers on the front

Emilie: YOU GAVE HER A BLACK CARD???

Max: She never uses it. So tell her to. 

Emilie: i— oh my god

Max: Anything she wants. Anything that makes her feel the way they don’t.

Emilie: You’re insane

Emilie:  I love it

Max: Belle deserves better than scraps. 

Max:  and tell her I said if she doesn’t buy herself something outrageous, I will. 

Emilie: You’re dangerous when you’re emotional. 

Max: No. I’m dangerous when people hurt her

Emilie: Honestly? Same. 

Emilie: Consider it done. 

***

By the time Emilie got back to their café table, her hands were still shaking from how hard she was gripping her phone.

Isabelle barely glanced up from stirring her tea. Too calm. Way too calm for what had just happened.

Emilie stared at her for a moment — at the careful, practiced ease in Isabelle’s movements, at the way she tucked every ounce of hurt so deep inside you might almost miss it.

But Emilie knew her too well.

She could see the small tells. The stiffness in Isabelle’s shoulders. The slight tremor at the corner of her mouth. The way she stirred her tea even though it had long gone cold.

She hated it. Hated how often Isabelle had been forced to wear that mask around the people who should have loved her most. Hated that Isabelle had spent so much of her life being overlooked, sidelined, treated like an afterthought in her own family.

Emilie set her jaw and dropped into the chair across from her.

"We’re using the card," she announced without preamble.

Isabelle blinked up at her, perfectly innocent. "What card?"

Emilie narrowed her eyes. "Don’t play dumb. The card."

Isabelle sighed, setting her spoon down neatly. "I’m not using it, Em."

"You are," Emilie said, practically vibrating with frustration. "Max said you should."

"He always says that," Isabelle muttered, folding her hands neatly in her lap. "He was half-joking when he gave it to me."

Emilie stared at her — this girl she loved like a sister — and felt the white-hot burn of protectiveness flood her chest.

"Belle," she said flatly. "He put your name on a black Amex. That’s not a joke. That’s basically marriage proposal."

Isabelle flushed lightly but lifted her chin, stubborn even in her embarrassment. "It’s for emergencies."

Emilie made a strangled noise. "And what exactly do you call today? Getting iced out of your own family in public counts as an emergency in my book!"

Isabelle shook her head, the corner of her mouth tugging in a small, resigned smile. "Retail therapy doesn’t fix anything."

Emilie leaned in, fire still burning under her ribs. "It fixes your mood," she said fiercely. "And it reminds everyone watching that you’re not some forgotten little sister. You’re the woman whose boyfriend gave her a credit limit bigger than their combined mortgage."

Isabelle gave her a sharp look. "Emilie," she said warningly. “I literally just bought a Hermès bag.”

"And?" Emilie demanded. "You earned it."

Because Isabelle never asked for anything.

 Because Isabelle spent her whole life making herself smaller, quieter, easier — trying not to take up space that no one seemed willing to offer her.

And now?

Now she had someone who saw her, who chose her, and Emilie would be damned if she let Isabelle keep hiding from that.

"I’m just saying," Emilie pressed, voice gentler now, "Max didn’t give you that card because he wanted you to buy him groceries. He gave it to you because he wanted you to know you’re taken care of. No conditions. No strings."

Isabelle’s hands curled slightly around her teacup.

She looked so small in that moment, so heartbreakingly unsure of her own worth, and Emilie’s chest ached.

"Belle..." she said softly. "You deserve to be someone’s priority. And he’s trying to show you that you already are."

Outside, Monte Carlo carried on — laughter, footsteps, the clatter of shop doors swinging open and shut — oblivious to the way Isabelle was holding herself together with sheer force of will.

Finally, Isabelle let out a shaky breath and gave Emilie a small, reluctant smile.

"Maybe just... one thing," she said quietly.

Emilie grinned like she’d just won the Monaco Grand Prix. "One thing now," she said smugly. "Ten things later."

Isabelle laughed — properly, this time — and the sound bubbled up between them, fragile and bright and so achingly beautiful that Emilie almost teared up.

She would burn the whole damn world down to protect that laugh.

"And for the record," Emilie added, gathering her bag with a wink, "if you don’t use it, I will."

"I think that would technically be fraud," Isabelle said, smiling into her tea.

"Semantics," Emilie said breezily. "Let’s go make Max proud."

And for once — just once — Isabelle let herself be pulled to her feet without arguing, letting herself believe that maybe, just maybe, she was allowed to be loved exactly as she was.

***

The garage buzzed around Max — the usual sounds of a race weekend: drills, chatter, tires being rolled out, pit crew moving like clockwork. He should have been in the zone. Usually, he was.

But not today.

Today, he was angry.

Not the hot, reckless kind of anger that made his hands shake on a steering wheel —

 No, this was quieter. Sharper.

 The kind that sat in his chest like a stone, heavy and cold.

He thought about Isabelle standing there, smiling politely while her own family overlooked her like she was invisible.

He thought about the way she brushed it off, like she didn’t even expect to be seen anymore.

It made him want to punch something.

 Or someone.

Preferably a Leclerc.

He was mid-checking the tire pressures on the sheet when his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Max glanced around, making sure no one was watching too closely, then slipped it out quickly.

Notification: American Express: €9.50 spent at Seaside Juicery.

Max stared at it. For a beat too long.

Then, despite himself — despite everything — he smiled.

The smallest, stupidest purchase imaginable.

 Nine euros.

 Smoothie, maybe. A Tea. A little something.

 But she had used it.

She had listened.

He tucked the phone back into his pocket, feeling stupidly giddy, the anger in his chest cracking just a little.

"Something good?" GP asked, wandering over with a tablet tucked under his arm.

Max shrugged, too casual. "She bought something."

GP blinked. "Who?"

"Isabelle. With the card I gave her. Nine euros," Max said, smirking.

GP laughed under his breath. "Well, congratulations. That's basically free compared to the psychological warfare you went through to get her to accept it."

Max just smiled — that rare, real one that didn’t make it to the cameras.

There was a short pause as the engineers passed by with fresh tire sets, shouting numbers back and forth.

Then Max added, way too casually, "She also bought a Hermes Bag. And she quit her job."

GP turned, full attention on him now. "What?"

"Yeah." Max reached for a bottle of water, twisting the cap off. "Told them to go fuck themselves. Finally."

GP whistled low. "Good for her."

Max shrugged like it was nothing. "She agreed to be my trophy wife for the week while she figures out what she wants to do."

GP choked on his laugh.

"Trophy wife?" he repeated, like he needed clarification.

Max deadpanned, "She makes coffee. Looks pretty. Yells at me to sleep more. Very demanding job."

GP shook his head, grinning. "You’re unbelievable."

Max’s expression softened slightly, the edge still there under it.

"I just want her to have something that’s hers," he said quietly. "Not whatever scraps her family bothers to throw her."

GP studied him for a long beat, then clapped him on the shoulder.

"You’re a pain in the ass, Verstappen," he said, voice light but warm. "But you’re a good one."

Max only shrugged again and grabbed his helmet, fitting it under his arm.

"She deserves better," he said simply. "Always has."

And then he headed toward the car, a little lighter than he'd been an hour ago — a little less furious, and a lot more in love.

***

Text Messages: Isabelle Leclerc & Max Verstappen

Max: I got another card notification

Max: felt very proud

Max: thought maybe you finally bought something for yourself

Isabelle: …it was necessary

Max: €160 on cat toys is necessary??

Isabelle: YES

Isabelle:  They’re enrichment tools. 

Max: They’re getting a better life than I did growing up

Isabelle: They’re very intelligent

Isabelle:  They need stimulation

Max: You bought them a mini velvet couch.

Isabelle: It’s chic and it matches the living room

Max: You’re matching the decor for the cats now??

Isabelle: …a little

Isabelle: You said anything I wanted

Isabelle: I want the cats to live in luxury

Max: I respect the commitment

Max:  Does this mean i’m getting upgraded toys too?

Isabelle: Do you need stimulation enrichment?!

Max: If it comes with you feeding me treats and scratching my head too, yes. 

Isabelle: MAX

Max: 😂

Max: “enrichment tools” she says

Max:  You bought them a miniature sofa!

Isabelle: It matches the living room aesthetic. 

Max: We are officially insane. 

Max:  We have matching furniture with the cats

Isabelle: You say that like it’s a bad thing

Max: It’s not.  I’m obsessed with you and apparently with our spoilt cats too. 

Isabelle: You started this. 

Max: True

Max: I am so proud of my little trophy wife spoiling the cats instead of herself. 

Isabelle: Sassy and Jimmy deserve nice things.

Max: So do you. 

Isabelle:  I’m working on it

Max: You’re perfect and the cats are about to live better than 90% of Monaco. 

Isabelle: As they should

Max: Send me pictures when it arrives

Max: I want to see Sassy sitting on her tiny couch like she owns the penthouse.

[tommys-little-writing-corner]

My doctor says I’m ill and the only thing that’ll cure me is if you write something about Shang Tsung

Note: If you're ill, then my recommendation is simple--

Another Note: KIDDING!!! Love ya lots, Mango!!!

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

Shang Tsung Headcanons -- A Huckster's Love

》 Just a little ramble about our favorite huckster, Shang Tsung. The little meow-meow... what went from being simple to now possibly just a whole oneshot fic in the form of bullet points. 》 Notes: Gender Neutral Reader, Typical Canon, Broke Ass Hoes, Fruitier Than Fruit Cake, Mortal Kombat 1 Spoilers Ahead-- You've Been Warned 》 Word Count: 700+ ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

Meeting the man himself, before he became a sorcerer thanks to Damanshi's help, was rather interesting

While Liu Kang deemed that Shang Tsung would live a life of misery, to pay for the pain he had done in previous timelines, he did not consider the possibility of someone changing what he had planned

Shang would live life begging for coin, in rags, and maybe die in the streets with no coin to his name

As Shang finished his daily beatings from the local angry villagers (with pitchforks no less), you came along to drag his worn body back to the shop-- creating a sort of companionship neither one could put a name on

Before meeting Shang, you also struggled much like he did-- no family to your name, always on the run from officials and Umgadi alike

He didn't trust you at first, hesitant on your kindness from making sure he wasn't getting beat up in his sleep or continue sleeping outside

Shang did not trust you until you both agreed on a deal-- with the two of you clearly struggling, maybe there was a way to help one another

With your skills as a thief, you could steal not only high-quality materials for Shang to use for his false medicines to give them truth-- but other high value items as well such as jewelry and books

Shang would use whatever you found and give you a portion of the money he made, since you would keep some of the valuables you've found for yourself

This was your relationship for the next few years-- two people using tricks to meet end's meet

You would both wake a little before the sun rose, preparing yourselves for the day ahead

Sometimes you'd catch Shang trying to pull his long hair back into a bun, eyes examining how his hands-- covered in small cuts and bruises-- brushed loose strands back as he looked in the small mirror the makeup box offered him

Sometime's he would watch you get ready, admiring your bare back as muscles rolled and flexed while you put on your clothes for the day-- he admired your strength and tenacity, as you admired his cleverness and deceit

You both complimented and contrasted one another, almost balanced with one another as you would head out to collect more items for Shang to use or sell and he would use his charms to take money from those who would have it

Feelings for one another did not come about until things started to become... more casual with one another

The back of your hands would briefly brush up against one another more often, mumbling apologies whenever it occurred

Sometimes, though, those "accidents" would happen more often and sometimes linger, beckoning you to try another taste of his touch-- to feel his thin hand in your own

Other times came to sleep, whenever it got too cold during the night, Shang would suggest sharing the one bed to preserve warmth the best you two could

Sometimes, when your back is turned against him, you can feel the slow and steady breathing of his lungs in the state of sleep, a sign that he was alive.

Sometimes you could feel him shiver, and if he was asleep, bring him closer to you to help with the cold or was he simply faking it for attention, hmmm??? *(eyebrow raise and wiggle)*

When feelings began to become more obvious, as did the more accidents

But you both seem to understand that something was growing, something was blossoming beyond simple companionship

How to say it in words, you didn't know. Shang didn't know either.

It was something that neither one could ignore for long

So after years of it being "business" only to friends to now... whatever this was now

Everything felt right

Even though you were not rich like the kings of old, constantly remained on the move from village to village in Outworld, occasionally beaten by villagers

At the end of the day, when the moon stood high in the dark sky, pale light shining on the carriage, you two still had one another

Tending to one another's wounds, making light jokes about what happened, reminiscing about the past

The last thing you both would always see is each other's faces as you both lied down and dimmed the candle that served as light for the small room-- tired, exhausted, but happy

This was the huckster's love, before something much grander than your own home-- your own world-- intervened

[lovings4turn]

sincerest apologiiiiiies for my delay in response too !! i've been sleepy + also i've had this odd-ish !? sinking feeling since this morning but it's a little bit better as of now !!

i so so so appreciate your words of motivation to give me the /pull through/ vibes, which i shall !! no reason to doubt a girl who's barely 5ft, your honour, i **will** pull through !! ALSO I'M SORRY YOU KEEP HAVING TO HEAR ME RAMBLE ABOUT IT !! (and to anyone reading too, i apologise 😔)

ooh, i'm glad to hear that you got in some social time but i also saw you had an early shift today, how did it end up going !? hopefully not too bad ?! also also, did you put something on the burn !? like aloe vera, erm.. hielo - er, ice !! that's the word. i swear i'm not flexing my language skills, my brain truly talks to me in all 6 of those languages and i'm just like "woahh, calm yo arse down, darling."

how have i been ?? erm. great question !! 🤩🤩 i think all has been.. decent ?? nothing extra brilliant and/or noteworthy but also nothing crappy !! just... life lifing. i do just want to go home though, i refuse to deal w/ this weather. HOW HAVE /YOU/ BEEN !? alles goed, liefje !?

annnyway, nice to chat !! love and miss you bunches, liefje !!

OH !! IK HEEFT EEN VRAAG !! what is your favourite thing to make at your shifts !? in terms of fun-ness of making it AND taste wise. this could be two different things !!

whydoitypesm,ohmygosh,itbecomesanessay. 😭 anyways, again !! take care of yourself + stay alive and hydrated and well fed !! yours truly, you know who. NO, NOT VOLDEMORT. DON'T SAY IT. 🤺🤺

a little joke! a man walks into a fruit market and picks up some raspberries, kiwis, melon, and strawberries but upon seeing a mango, he leaves it all behind and leaves the market. why so !? 🤭🤭

i fear all our conversations are going to start with apologies for the delay ,, yet here i am to do exactly that lovely 😭 i'm so so sorry cause i know that feeling is the WORST but i'm so glad y'feeling a little better (and i hope you're feeling much better now!!! or else i will fight the universe!!!)

you will pull through i know it !!! i am actually your number one supporter n have every faith in you love !! and no apologies at ALL are necessary here i assure you <333 rambling gets us all through , sincerely possibly the biggest yapper in the whole world

the early shift was an interesting one !! it's the first time i've started on the opening ,, and the first two and a half hours were actual heaven cause we had barely any customers ,, so i could just dick about a bit and make myself some drinks to wake up , but the mid morning rush killed me because there was only me and my co-worker at the time😭😭

the burn is healing !!! she was ran under so much cold water and covered in some sort of cream , so she's doing well thank GOD (though my hands are now littered in teeny tiny scars from burns and such - the price i pay ig😔) and honestly ?? i wouldn't blame you for flexing the language skills because it impresses me every single time my god

i totally get what you mean and i'm glad nothing awfully bad has happened !!! here's me manifesting that the weather brightens up for you (because i do not know how you deal with it , and that's coming from someone in northern england😭)

it's so , so nice to hear from you again my lovely , and i'm sending you all of the love and joy i can grasp from the universe (which is a lot , trust me) look after yourself n show yourself all of the love and kindness you deserve or else !!!! the whatchamacallits will come out trust !!!!!

AND AAHHH I LOVE THIS QUESTION !!! in terms of general yumminess , i'd have to go for the cinnamon latte because my god it makes the entire shop smell heavenly every single time i have to make one (and i consume at least two every shift) but in terms of fun-ness , i'm a flat white girly all the way !!! getting to make little designs is actually the highlight of my day (i managed to make a bear last shift and the woman it was for was overjoyed)

i've sat here and wracked my brain for so long trying to find this punchline and i'm coming up totally empty - i'm stubborn and refuse to google it , too , so !!! why does he leave the market love !!! i look forward to finding out 🤭🤭🤭

[jaxonkreide]

one of my friends has been slowly pushing me towards Kingdom Hearts, but I still don't know much about the games ;u; still, i'm gonna shove into your inbox 7, 18, 20, 27, and 36!

You should definitely give Kingdom Hearts a try haha :D The story is really confusing and cheesy from time to time, but just??? So good????

hey so like

if you ask me things about kingdom hearts I’m like 100% guaranteed to ramble so like

everything under the cut

7. when did you first start playing kh

ohhhhhh a hard question!! I think I first found out about Kingdom Hearts in 2010?? Well, it was the time I started watching LPs. Two to be exactly precise. By two different people. One of them was FFX and the other FFXII. At one point I had seen the LPs of the two guys until the most current parts and so I grew bored and I checked what other games they had played, because I just really liked those guys. Both had LPs of this game named “Kingdom Hearts”?? I had no idea what that meant at all, so I google translated the title lol and decided that if both of those guys had decided to do an LP of this game it just HAD to be good. Yep yep. That’s not how I first “played” it per se, but that’s how I got to know it.

I don’t even know which Kingdom Hearts game was the first one I played??? I think I might have gotten 1 and 2 after those LPs I saw…. and when I got my 3DS I bought Re:coded with it……. the first Kingdom Hearts game I played when it came out tho was DDD in 2012

18.favorite game in the series

ok, so there are multiple ones for me here rip

So I’d like to say that 358/2 Days is my kh game overall, but I gotta face that the combat is this one is pretty shit compared to others. I feel like I still like the combat system of it more than the rest of the fandom and am quite good with it, but there are better ones than that. But Days definitely wins when it comes to story for me #RIPXion ;n; I’ll never forget her……..

Then there is KH re:coded. Which is probably the worst when it comes to the story, but I remember playing this game for hours on end, just because I thought of the gameplay of that one to be so enjoyable? I don’t really know if I’ll count it to my faves tho, I haven’t played it in a long time and I feel like my nostalgia is counting towards this too much

Honestly if it comes to gameplay my favorite is probably Kingdom Hearts 2. It’s just a solid thing that lets you basically play through the game without really having to do anything else than pressing X and I really like that simplicity. (I’m looking at you chain of memories and your really complicated card system >:c also partly at Birth by Sleep and DDD, because in those games you’re pretty much forced to always care about your skills and it’s no thing to just casually play without any thought)

So yeah, Days is my story favorite while KH2 is my gameplay favorite as well as story 2nd fave. Third favorite story is BbS

20.hopes for kingdom hearts 3

#BRINGXIONBACK2K18

that’s all. All my hopes for KH3 are that they please for the love of god bring Xion back. LET PEOPLE REMEMBER HER. LET HER EAT ICECREAM AGAIN. INTRODUCE HER TO ROXAS’ BUDDIES HAYNER, PENCE AND OLETTE. LET HER LAUGH ABOUT STUPID THINGS WITH ROXAS AND AXEL

27.favourite boss theme

SO I HAVE TWO

First there is Darkness of the Unknown which is the boss battle for the final boss of KH2, Xemnas (here’s a link) (ALSO there is this cool rock version someone made that I really like so I’m gonna link that one as well lol I remember really loving that one in the past;;)

And Vector to the Heavens which is Xions final boss theme from days! (Here’s a link to that)

(and basically all the other final boss themes rip, but those two are my favorite!)

36.favourite song

Two again, haha :’D This series has too great music!!!

Well so the first is most definitely Dearly Beloved!!! Any of the versions honestly, but if I had to choose my favorite dearly beloved is probably the one from DDD?? (here’s a link to all the versions)

And secondly!!! Musique pour la Tristesse de Xion which is Xion’s theme :P Do you notice that I like Xion like A LOT? (here’s a link to that!!) (+ a version where someone wrote lyrics for it and I could cry everytime rip)

But honestly it’s hard to choose, because the music is just overall really great??? The Other Promise is also really great……. Rikus theme is definitely also 100% top notch. I remember just starting to play re:coded, going in the riku boss fight and then just listening to the music…. honestly same with the roxas boss fight and the other promise lol

These games just have to good music and I didn’t even talk about Passion and Simple and Clean yet. Which are also like two real good songs??? And let’s not forget the Simple and Clean - Ray of Hope MIX??????????? THAT WAS SUCH A GOOD ONE GOSH DARN I REMEMBER FIRST SEEING THAT 0.2 OPENING NOT TO LONG AGO AND JUST LOVING EVERY SECOND OF THIS SONG??????

Currently I’ve been playing a lot of KH Union Cross (the KH mobile game)……………….

[vallentinerry]

Maths Class

Y/N/N = your nickname

Where Y/N is having a bad day and a boy from Maths Class makes it all better.

wordcount: 1k+

[masterlist]

It was a Monday and so far your day has been bad in every language possible.

To start off you woke up late, you forgot to do your Maths homework, you missed the bus, had to run from your house to school, haven't eaten breakfast nor dinner from the night before and you forgot your lunch.

Amazing right?

So here you are walking to your second class since you didn't make the first class.

You took a seat at the back hoping you could do your Maths homework while your Maths teacher was teaching.

That was until a boy plopped next to you. You ignored him and kept doing your homework.

The class has began and you finished as the teacher said "pass your homework".

You sighed at your seat happy that was over.

The lecture began and you just stared at the whiteboard feeling the hunger creep in.

"Um. Hi." the boy next to you tapped your shoulder. You faced him with a poker face as he beamed at you.

"Are you okay? You don't look too well.... Oh I didn't mean that to sound rude I just meant you looked horrible—oh my god. I'm so sorry." He rambled.

"You're fine. And yeah I am." You gave him a small smile.

"Oh uh... Wait." he said reaching for something in his bag.

"Here you go." He placed a container of strawberries at your lap making you look down.

"What's this for?"

"I thought you might be hungry. Here. I promise I didn't poison it." He swore.

"That's suspicious. "

"I'm not lying to you."

"Thank you... Uh do you want some too? Well it is yours." you offered.

"Okay." He shrugged and the both of you sneakily snacked the entire maths.

"Oh by the way, I'm Harry." He whispers to you.

"That's such a white boy name."

"Heyyyyy..."

"You are white so." You shrugged.

"True. What's your name?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." You smiled fully making him smile too.

"It's only fair. I gave you strawberries and my name."

"Did I ask for it?" You fired back.

"It's called being polite thank you very much."

"Well you don't have to be polite. Polite can be boring. I promise I won't tell anyone you're not."

"Were making alot of promises today." He chuckles and you smiled nodding.

As the both of you wanted to go back to your banter the bell rang.

"Don't forget to do your homework at page 340!" your professor reminds.

"Well it was nice to meet you Harry. Its y/n by the way. " You smiled handing him back the container and you went out the door.

~

"Y/N!" A voice said behind you making you stop your scooter to see Harry catching up with you in his scooter too.

"Oh hi." you said when he reached you.

"Hi." the both of you stood there looking at each other when he finally cleared his throat.

"Do you want to....ride together?" He said confusing his words.

"Sure let's ride." You chuckled shaking your head.

"Sooo... How have you been?" Harry tries to make a conversation.

"Oh you know. Dying." you nod.

"Okie then.."

"How have you been?" You question back.

"Mediocre. I'm excited to go to a Cascada concert at Saturday though." He smiles at the thought.

"Well that's proper cool."

"I know. Its my first concert."

The both of you rode with silence appreciating the weather.

Once you reached school, the both of you took off your helmets and locked your scooters at the stand.

"Oh and y/n?" Harry said before you entered the entrance.

"Yeah?"

"W-would you like to eat with me later?"

"Sure. See you at maths tomorrow." you smiled and went in.

~

"Hi." Harry said sitting down beside you putting his bag down.

"Hello." you nod.

He placed 2 mango shakes in front of the both of you.

He got the straws and put it poked it through the cap doing the same with his and handed it to you.

"Here. I was running a bit late and this was all I could make." He smiled offering the cup.

"Th-thank you. You didn't have to though." you took the cup.

"I know but I wanted to." he shrugged and the both of you took a sip.

"Oh wow this really good." you commented.

"Thanks." that was the last word said before your professor came in.

~

For the past 3 months Harry has been bringing food everyday in maths class and the both of you would eat your lunch at the football field.

Not only that but he's been riding the scooter with you everyday to school.

"Y/N/N!" you hear a shout at your back.

You closed your locker and turned to see Harry running towards you with a giddy smile.

He came towards you and engulfed you with a bear hug.

"Hello to you too." you giggled embracing him back.

"Guess what?" He pulled back from the hug.

"What?"

"I got at the honor students in Maths! Can you believe it?!" He exclaimed.

"I can actually yeah. I'm so happy for you!" You laughed hugging him again.

Ever since the bringing of food to Maths class has happened he always talked about how he was struggling with Maths and you were good at it so you helped.

"And its all because of my very smart best mate!" He giggled picking you up and shook you side to side.

"Why thank you." You said when he brought you down.

"Seriously thank you really y/n my mum will be so happy." He said gripping your shoulders.

"It's nothing. I'm happy you're happy." You shrugged.

"Oh. And since I got higher grades its your turn take me out right?" He hopefully said.

"In your dreams what's your average?" you questioned.

"You first."

"No."

"Fine. Drum roll please..."

"Just get over it Harry." you rolled your eyes.

"95." He breathe out.

"Good for you."

"And yours...?"

"Oh god." you said breathing heavy.

"Well..."

"97!" You did a happy dance.

"Bloody hell!" He groaned.

"Guess you'll be taking me out styles." you wiggled your eyebrows

"Oh I wi— wait are we going on a date?" He mumbled.

"Uh... I mean if you put it that way.." you fiddled with your fingers.

"I do put it that way."

"Then I guess we are." You smiled.

"Can you believe I'm taking out THE Y/N Y/L/N." He exaggerated.

"How lucky you are." You played along.

"I am lucky." He said seriously. Making you blush.

You were about to reply when the bell ringed.

"I'll see you at Maths?" He smiled.

"Yeah. Maths class." You returned the smile.

[mango-bango-bby]

hi mango! i really like your works so much! may i req maybe a scenario of yandere akaashi with darling who miss their friends/family and miss being outside? so he has to remind them that they shouldn't feel that way because they don't need anyone else, just him only. thankyou so much!!

♡ Pushover ♡

(A/N: I feel like all my fics have been turning out bad lately but I can’t tell if it’s actually true or my insecurities. Idk just felt like getting that out there, so hopefully it’s all in my head and this doesn’t suck!! Enjoy!!)

Summary: You miss the outside world and your friends and family. Akaashi absolutely despises seeing you in pain and comforts you (Yan!Akaashi x GN!Reader)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You bring your hand up to your eyes, furiously wiping tears from your red eyes. You feel like you’ve been crying for hours, possibly even more than when Akaashi first kidnapped you. You only continue to sob, small hiccups leaving your mouth every once and a while.

“Darling?” Akaashi drawls, reaching out across the bed for you so he can take you back into his arms. He normally becomes very needy for cuddles at night, like right now. He likes to hold you in his arms as he sleeps or feel you up against him. Akaashi sleepily pops open one eye to be met with your soaked face and puffy eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He mutters, moving to cradle your face in his hands. You only whimper in response, not wanting to bring your voice to talk. He truly hates seeing you upset, he was in so much pain during the first month or two you were here. Watching you sob and cry hurt him possibly more than it hurt you. Who wouldn’t be in pain watching their love cry?

You gulp slightly before speaking. “I- I wanna go home” You mutter, crawling closer to Akaashi’s chest and gripping onto his shirt for comfort. Akaashi only lets out a sad sigh, gently rubbing circles on your back to steady your cries. “I thought we had gotten over this, love” He murmurs. You just hold closer to him, you may still miss the outside but now you actually look for Akaashi’s comfort. Unlike in the beginning.

“N- Not like that” You sniffle “I miss going outside, a-and my friends and family” your voice begins to break as you speak “I wanna see the sky again and the grass and f-flowers, I-” You cut of your rambling by squishing your face into captors chest, feeling your body become less tense as he rubs your back and gently shushes you.

“Shh, calm down, love. Breathe in, breathe out” Akaashi shushes, breathing in a steady way while waiting for you to join. You begin breathing with his breathes, your sobbing calming down and your trembling disappearing.

“I understand that you miss people, darling. But, you know that I’m all you need” Akaashi says calmly before continuing “It’s not that I don’t trust you, I don’t trust them. People will try to hurt you, love. All I want is to protect you and keep you happy” Akaashi thinks for a moment before continuing, “And, if you really want to go outside, I’m sure that I could take you out with me sometime”

You raise your head at his words, meeting your face with his. Even with a runny nose, puffy eyes, and tear stained cheeks, you’re still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life. You whisper a small “really?”, looking at him with large hopeful eyes.

“Yes” Akaashi confirms, only making more tears flow from your eyes. This time in happiness. “I’ll take you out with me sometime, but not where other people will be and I’ll make sure that you’re safe” He says, hugging you back as you grin into his chest. 

Akaashi knows he probably shouldn’t give you everything you want but he’s a pushover for you. And, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ Thank you for reading, darling!!

[chosonore]

part one | oblivion

oblivion [noun. the state of being unaware or unconscious of what is happening around one]

pairing: kamo noritoshi/f!reader

summary: your relationship with noritoshi was like a game of cat and mouse; no matter how hard you tried to escape from him, he would always find his way back to you.

wordcount: 3.9k

content/warnings: friends to enemies to lovers, language, noritoshi is kind of a dick but i promise it gets better so please don’t lose faith in him, we’re not strictly following the manga timeline bc while i am reading it, i do have a goldfish brain, lowercase intended

a/n: hello, here’s the first installment of my sanguine series! it’s the prequel of this drabble (nsfw) i wrote the other week while i was working on the outline of the fic. it’s a little slow burn because i wanted to spend some more time exploring their relationship and the groundwork for it, so yeah. i’ll try to update it regularly, but since i’ve only planned five parts for sanguine, it might take a while bc i want to take my time with it. if you want to stay updated with the series, i’ll post the masterlist to it shortly! i do hope you enjoy it though :) and stay safe, everybody! [tagging @sukirichi​ the sukuna to my yuuji, who just gets spammed when i start rambling about my aus but always screams with me (´• ω •`)]

masterlist - next 

"y/n!" you look up to see miwa storming towards you, thrusting a book in your direction. "could you- could you please give this to noritoshi? i borrowed this book from him like a week ago and if i don't return this anytime soon, i think he's gonna kill me." 

scowling at her, you look at the book in disdain. you wanted to avoid crossing paths with noritoshi as much as possible and miwa was well aware that you didn't like hi- 

"please," miwa pleaded again, taking your hands and placing the book in it. "i'm really scared of him. he always looks like he's going to shoot me soon. even todo is pretty nice if you don't interrupt his takada-chan time!" 

you sighed in annoyance, you just couldn't say no. ever since coming to the kyoto metropolitan curse tech, miwa and you had been pretty close because you strongly disliked the other students. most of them were arrogant and stuck-up, thinking they were better than the other; the two that belonged to the three clans were even worse. on your first day here you'd promptly gotten into a fight with mai, disliking how haughty she was and trying to prove everyone that she was better than them. much to your chagrin, the fight ended in a tie.

"fine, but you owe me some mango," miwa's face lit up in relief and she gave you a thumbs up before dashing to her room, most likely to escape noritoshi's wrath. you inspected the book. was it even worth returning it? maybe you could just throw it in the trash. if noritoshi ever found out, he'd kill miwa first and then you. you let out another sigh before making your way towards the training grounds. he most likely was outside to practice, either with one of the guys or alone. as you were nearing the training grounds, you could already hear the sound of arrows whistling and the dull thuds of them hitting the target. it was hard to spot him through all the trees; you weren't entirely sure where he was. your ears perked up when you heard him release another arrow until you realized that it was heading your way. this bastard. fortunately, you were able to slash the arrow clean in the middle, angrily pointing your sword in his direction. you still couldn't see him anywhere.

"you fucking idiot! you could've killed me," you snarled, stomping deeper into the forest. an amused laugh echoed through the trees. 

"you're acting like i can't control my arrows. it's not my fault you let your guard down," noritoshi retorted smugly, lowering his bow as he saw you approaching. you were fuming, hurling the book at him. how dare he? you watched with satisfaction as it hit him square in the chest - who was caught off guard now, huh? he deserved it anyways. 

"miwa asked me to return your book," you curtly explained and turned back around to leave but apparently, noritoshi had other plans. instead of saying anything else, he just followed you which unsettled you even more. 

"stop following me." 

"who said i was following you? i'm just going back to the dorms. i'm sorry you can't handle me being near you."

you whirled around, sword pointing dangerously close to his neck. he smirked at you triumphantly, it was just too easy to get a rouse out of you. "another word and i'll cut you, seriously. you're pissing me off," you gritted your teeth, hating that you always fell for his stupid games. he knew you all to well, what made you angry, what made you happy, what motivated you. once upon a time, you'd thought the same about him; until he changed so rapidly, so unlike your expectations. you were worlds apart and yet you'd reserved an ounce of hope that he wouldn't turn out to be as arrogant as the clan heads. swift as the wind, noritoshi grabbed your wrist, dragging it upwards and towards him until he could lean down to you. your heartbeat sped up - holy shit why was he so close to you - and you froze in shock. 

"i'd like to see you try, princess," he whispered in your ear, the grip on your wrist tightening. "you wouldn't dare to."

the first time you met noritoshi, he was sitting outside in the garden with his mum. both seemed to have a good time. noritoshi's hair was tousled from the soft summer breeze and he had a soft smile on his face, happily munching away on the snacks that were displayed on the table. while he looked friendly enough, you were wary of meeting and talking to him because you felt kind of queasy around the kamo family. you couldn’t quite place a finger on the feeling, the older members of the family intimidating you to no end. much to your dismay, you felt like you had to be watchful - your parents worked for the kamo family, so naturally the apartment you lived in was close to the estate. you avoided any run ins with the adults, they weren’t exactly friendly to you. noritoshi’s mum had befriended your mum and they spent a lot of time together when possible. and yet you’d never met noritoshi before, seeing how busy he was with his various classes.

the fit that you threw, not wanting to tag along with your mum, was long forgotten when you’d spotted the jar of cookies on the table. before your mum could react, you pulled your hand away from hers and quickly ran towards it. “hello miss!” you greeted enthusiastically, your eyes shining at the sight of the sweets. “my name is y/n! i’m here with my mum and i uhm… could i have some of the cookies? please?” when your mum finally caught up to you, she scolded you quietly and greeted the other two, taking a seat beside noritoshi’s mum. you pouted, immediately climbing on her lap as you refused to sit next to the boy. his mum handed you a cookie which you happily took and thanked her politely. noritoshi was curiously eyeing you; it wasn’t often that he saw other children around his age and he didn’t have any friends to play with. his everyday life revolved around reading books, studying, taking archery classes and sometimes spending time with his mum. noritoshi barely even knew what fun was - he’d only ever felt at peace when he was around his mum.

“y/n, sweetie, why don’t you go and play with noritoshi?” your mum prompted but you immediately shook your head, hiding your face in her chest. she simply laughed and shook her head, brushing your hair back softly. “come on, noritoshi is really nice. you can be his friend one day, right? didn’t i tell you that friends are important?” 

you frowned. then huffed. when she worded it like this, there was no way you could refuse. the cartoon that you religiously watched featured a group of friends that went on adventures and helped each other out. you’d told your mum that you wanted to be like that too! begrudgingly, you slid off her lap and trudged towards noritoshi who looked at you with big eyes. you held your hand out, waiting for him to shake it. “my name is y/n. uhm… nice to meet you,” you shyly whispered, eyes darting away from him. 

it took a while until noritoshi reacted, shaking your hand gently and answering: “hello y/n, i’m noritoshi.”

much to your surprise, noritoshi was actually fun to be around with. he showed you his collection of books, the bow that he was practicing with and you often played the card game you’d received for your birthday together. he was smart and witty, often explaining you things that he’d read in a book but he was also attentive when he listened to you ramble about the other kids in school or when you told him about the cartoon that you were watching. for you, noritoshi was becoming your best friend - for noritoshi, you were his first friend. he cherished you and how unabashedly true to yourself you were. spending time with you was something he looked forward to; you always made him laugh and you didn’t care whether he lived up to the kamo family name or not. to you, he was simply noritoshi. you were like a fresh breeze of air in his life.

noritoshi didn't quite understand why the elders were always so hard on him, so strict and unrelenting. they expected only the best results from him and didn't show any understanding when he exhausted. he didn't enjoy practice anymore, the lessons becoming a chore and burden on his mind. but whenever he saw your face light up at his newly acquired skills, he thought it was worth the trouble. you came to visit him everyday after school, never skipping a day. sometimes he questioned why you weren't visiting your friends from school but you shook your head, poking his chest indignantly. "you're my best friend, 'toshi. of course i'd want to spend more time with you." noritoshi was glad you always chose him, without fail.

even though your parents had always warned you to be careful around noritoshi because his family was strict and didn't like outside influences distracting the heir, you never really strayed from his side. noritoshi didn't have any other friends, who would keep him company or listen to his troubles then? you didn't understand why your parents were suddenly going back on their word. they'd always told you that family and friends were important. you couldn't pinpoint your feelings for him - but your parents saw it. it was obvious; the stars in your eyes when you looked at him, the slight blush on your cheeks when he complimented you and how happy you were when you got to spend time with him. the more time you spent with him, the more they were worried for you. 

"'toshi!" you yelled in excitement as you ran towards him, waving wildly. he dropped his bow and turned to you, a soft smile gracing his lips as he opened his arms to hug you. you squeezed him tightly. two weeks you hadn't seen him due to a school trip after which you got sick and weren't able to leave the house. you'd missed him a lot and you were excited to show him the souvenirs you brought him. 

"look, i bought you an omamori!" you handed him the small object, then pointing on your bag to show him the one you'd bought for yourself. "i got myself a matching one too! my teacher said it wards off evil spirits and brings you luck." noritoshi's smile was bright, so bright. he was happy you thought of him and were always kind to him. your eyes widened as he leaned in to kiss your cheek before thanking you. the two of you were blushing, neither saying a word but not minding what had just happened.

the day noritoshi's mother left the estate was the day you were slowly starting to lose him. noritoshi grew more forlorn and didn't seem to easily find joy in anything anymore. the departure left a deep, deep gap in his heart. it had shocked him deep to the core when she left him. him. why couldn't she stay? why did she leave him when she was the only person who protected him, loved him? she did say that she was hindering his growth but who was she to decide that? he didn't want to become stronger, didn't want to protect other people like she'd told him to. he wanted to stay with her. "'toshi? 'toshi!" a concerned voice broke through his trance, pulling him back into reality. "i asked you a question! you weren't even listening to me." 

you were pouting at him, tugging at his sleeve impatiently. noritoshi apologized, patting your head to soothe your temper. "what do you want to do in the future? mum said it's important to work towards your dreams!" you asked him curiously, grasping his hand to hold it. the gesture filled him with indescribable warmth, drawing him in like a moth to the flames. "my mum said i have a special power, i can heal people! i want to become a doctor in the future, so i can help everyone that got hurt," you explained to him so earnestly that he felt bad for the lie he was about to tell. noritoshi didn't have big dreams or ambitions just yet. he didn't even know what would be suitable to him - he was strictly following orders, never allowed to think for himself. 

but when he looked at you, he only had one wish. "i think… i think i want to help people, protect them. especially those that i love."

with each year passing, you noticed that noritoshi was putting more and more distance between the two of you. at first you'd brushed it off as the stress of his training and number of classes he was attending. but as you spent less and less time together, the weight of the situation didn’t escape you. he was easily irritable, cold and arrogant, often rude towards employees of the kamo estate. every now and then when you’d scold him for being an asshole, he’d simply scoff at you and haughtily ask you how it was any of your business. you sighed, tossing and turning in your bed as you thought about how much noritoshi had changed. it kept you up at night, just thinking about how he wasn’t your ‘toshi anymore. you didn’t know this person. ‘toshi was always gentle and kind, he tended to overthink many things and sometimes he was a little bit of a crybaby but you still loved him regardless. you sneaked out of your room, finally mustering up enough courage to ask your mother for advice. the thought of her discovering your blooming crush on noritoshi was scaring you. your parents were wary around the kamos despite working from them - even more so ever since noritoshi’s mother left and the elders had free reign over her son.

“noritoshi! noritoshi, stop walking away from me! hey, i’m talking to you!” you yelled frustrated as you were trying to keep up with him. noritoshi was crossing the garden in long strides, it was nearly impossible to stop him as you couldn’t catch up to him. you lunged forward, getting hold of his sleeve and tugged him back harshly. noritoshi yanked his arm out of your grip, glaring at you annoyed. 

“what do you want from me? i have better things to do than to quibble with you,” he hissed irritated. you couldn’t believe him, he had the nerve to dismiss you like this when he was in the wrong? 

“you know exactly what i want from you! you can’t just go around and talk to people like you did before just because they’re not from a reputable family! noritoshi, you’re not any better than them just because your last name is kamo.”

as much as noritoshi scared you, you stood your ground. you knew he didn’t take you serious, not with the amused look he gave you. in the past month or two, noritoshi was suddenly hit by a growth spurt - you barely reached his shoulder now and he took advantage of that to mock you, often treating you like an armrest. he pat your head condescendingly, pouting at you in fake regret. “aw, did i hurt your feelings? did i make itty bitty little y/n sad?” he mocked you, before abruptly grabbing your cheeks to make you look at him. “i don’t care what you think of me, cry all you want. i strongly suggest you hold that sharp tongue of yours if you know what’s good. know your place.” 

tears filled your eyes; noritoshi had never talked to you this way. what has gotten into him? your heart broke in pieces, unable to take the pain any longer. you were no longer his equal but below him, much like everyone else.

“mum?” you cautiously knocked at the door of her study, waiting for her response. your mother was most likely still awake and dealing with paperwork like she usually did. upon hearing the affirmative noise she made, you flitted inside, closing the door behind you so your father didn’t catch any wind of this. it was already embarrassing enough and you were sure your mother could offer you better advice. you gingerly took a seat on the armchair, grabbing a pillow and hugging it close to your body. how were you going to approach this? hey mum, i have a crush on noritoshi and he’s weird to me now and i don’t know why? uh yeah mum, i caught feelings for the guy you warned me about and now i look like a fool crawling up to you like this? 

“it’s about noritoshi, isn’t it?” your mother interrupted your stream of thought, spinning her swivel chair towards you. 

“huh? oh no it isn’t, why would it be? i have-” 

“y/n.” 

“ugh okay fine, maybe it is about him,” you sighed defeated, of course she would look right through you. she always seemed to know what you were thinking, even when you hadn’t confided in her before. “but promise me you won’t judge me!” the look in your mother’s eyes told you that she was going to judge you regardless but you knew she meant well - she simply wanted the best for you.

“i- i just don’t understand why he’s been such a pain in the ass lately. and he’s been treating everyone like dirt too, including me! mum, he’s becoming someone else and i… i don’t know what to do,” you sniffled inconsolably, wiping at your eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. she wasn’t supposed to see you getting emotional. “he’s always busy and when we do get to see each other, he doesn’t want to spend time with me. what if he doesn’t like me anymore? and i don’t like how he’s treating you! it’s the same issue with the elders, they don’t know any human decency at all!” 

your mother motioned you to scoot over a little and sat next to you, wrapping her arms around you and patting your back to console you. while she meant well, it accomplished the opposite - you broke down in tears, unable to stop your sobs. “i just want my ‘toshi back,” you whimpered upset, burying your face in the pillow to muffle the sound of you crying. “i know you didn’t like that i became good friends with him but i couldn’t help it and i just really like him and- you weren’t supposed to find that out.”

“sweetheart, i know you love noritoshi,” she handed you a tissue. “you let a lot more on than you were aware of; dad and me always knew you were in love with him.” as if on cue, your sobbing stopped and you just looked at her in disbelief. she knew. she knew. you wanted the earth to swallow you whole. “i think it was always pretty obvious, to be honest. you always looked at him as if he was your entire world and no matter what happened, you were always by his side. i know it’s hard to accept when a dear friend is changing but sometimes you just have to, right? both of you are still growing, there’s no way of telling how your personalities change.”

“but i don’t want him to change like this,” you protested stubbornly, glaring at her. she was talking about it as if it was a matter of simply discarding a bad apple in the trash. it wasn’t easy and it made you anxious. you grew up together, shared secrets and memories. he was the person you’d always looked up to.

“y/n.” your mother sounded stern but you didn’t back down, not yet. “is it really worth it? if a person is changing so rapidly and you’re not getting through to them, you’ll have to let it go. there’s only so much you can do. people grow apart sometimes, it’s only natural. you have to let go of them, temporarily, so you both can heal and grow. y/n, i know you’re being stubborn about this but you’ll have to let him figure things out on his own. fate has curious ways to bring people back together.”

when the time came, noritoshi left to attend the kyoto metropolitan curse tech school without telling you a word. you were disappointed, apparently you weren’t worth saying goodbye to. whatever his reason was, it must’ve been pretty important. important enough to forget the promise that you’d always stay in contact. you wondered whether he'd change again, for the better maybe? maybe you would reconcile when you could finally attend the school as well and train together. you were excited to show him your sword skills, having received your family's heirloom, an elegant steel blue sword. though your skills probably weren’t up to par with the other students, you still wanted to show them off, show him what you’d learned in the year that you spent apart.

noritoshi had changed but not for the better. holy shit, did he get on your nerves. the first time he'd practiced with you, you realized that he had mutated into an insufferable know-it-all. he would give you backhanded compliments or make snide remarks about your posture, how you were supposed to hold your sword, how inefficient your fighting style was. sometimes you wished you could just beat him for once and have him shut up. there was no denying though, noritoshi was way too strong and you had a long way to go. judging from the reactions of the others, barely anyone had beat him either. 

and just like that, your feelings for him were buried. you’d taken your mother’s advice to heart, keeping conversations and interactions with him to a minimum but somehow noritoshi always found his way to you. he was everywhere and a quarrel was inevitable. noritoshi got under your skin and he knew how to push your buttons. why he chose to pick on you was beyond your comprehension; he didn’t pay much attention to the other students nor was he particularly liked by them. just how much was he going to get on everyone else’s nerves? out of all the second years, todo aoi was the most amicable; you had the (dis)pleasure to run into him on your first day and for some reason, he took a liking to you. while he was loud and boisterous, mostly doing whatever he wanted, you couldn’t deny that he was a good friend. even though he didn’t care about anyone as much as he cared about takada-chan. at one point, he’d looked at you in sympathy when he caught you staring at noritoshi, patting your shoulder (too forceful): “i’m sorry, y/n, i’m so sorry.” 

you still didn’t know what he meant by that.

ps.: todo knows and he’s kinda judging you for your taste in men 

[kurowrites]

“I hit you with my car and was the only one to visit you in the hospital” AU Prompt for Wangxian, if you like?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

---

When Wei Ying woke up, he had to blink a few times to adjust his vision to the bright glare of the lights overhead, momentarily blinding him. Something was weird. This definitely wasn’t his own bedroom, whose lighting was rather dim and most definitely off when he was sleeping.

He blinked a few times more and then turned his head to examine the room he was in.

It took him far too long to understand what he was seeing, but once his brain actually started processing it, there was no doubt. He was in a hospital room, complete with barren walls and the strong smell of disinfectant. But he had no memory that could explain why he would be waking up in a hospital bed. In fact, now that he thought about it, he had no idea what he’d been doing before he’d woken up here, or even what day of the week it was.

Impatient to have his questions answered, he tried to wriggle around and slip out of bed, but his body felt oppressively heavy, and his vision started to swim as soon as he lifted his head off the pillow.

Exhausted and distressed, he fell back into bed. What the hell had happened to him? Why was he feeling so terrible?

Just that moment, the door of the hospital room opened, and a nurse stepped in.

“Oh, you are awake,” she said. “Good.”

She moved up to the bed and started to check his vitals – or harass him, Wei Ying couldn’t really tell which one it was. She was probably around fifty and had a distinct aunt-y vibe that made Wei Ying lay still on danger of getting stabbed with a needle.

“Do you know why you’re here?” she asked, after she had apparently determined that he was conscious and held it together enough for conversation.

“No,” Wei Ying croaked, and immediately started coughing. His throat felt terribly dry.

The nurse went to his bedside table, where a cup and a pitcher of water had been placed, and filled the cup for him. Then she made him drink.

“You’ve been in a traffic accident,” she told him without ceremony. “You got hit by a car and had to be brought here in an ambulance.”

Shit. Could that be true?

He didn’t remember any of that.

“I don’t remember,” he told the nurse.

“Honey, it’s probably better if you don’t,” she said, patting him on the arm absent-mindedly. “That’s your brain protecting you. You’re also on painkillers right now,” here, she pointed at one of the drips that went into his arm, “and they tend to make your brain a little foggy. You only need to focus on getting better right now.”

That wasn’t particularly comforting to Wei Ying. He’d been lying here, doing–

“My work!” he suddenly remembered.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that!” the nurse said, shaking her head. “I think that nice Mr. Lan has taken care of all that.”

She checked her watch.

“It’s almost time for him to visit, too. Such a nice young man, if only youngsters nowadays were a little more like him.”

She sighed, patted Wei Ying’s arm again, and then left, hopefully to tell someone else that he had gained consciousness again.

Wei Ying sighed and stared at the ceiling. He wasn’t sure what the nurse had meant with “that nice Mr. Lan,” because he didn’t know anyone with the last name Lan. Certainly no one who would visit him at the hospital. Had she gotten his visitor’s name wrong? He tried to think of a different possibility, but couldn’t think of anyone. Wen Ning was away. And Jiang Cheng still wasn’t speaking to him, not to mention that no one in their right mind would ever call Jiang Cheng a ‘nice young man’ if they had spent more than 30 seconds in his presence.

He wasn’t kept in suspense about the identity of his visitor for very long, though. Only minutes after the nurse had left, the door opened again, and through came a man that Wei Ying had never seen in his life. He would have definitely remembered meeting him, Wei Ying was sure, because the man was a devastating combination of tall, handsome and well-dressed. Very memorable. Even in his current drugged-up state.

The man hesitated for one small moment when he saw Wei Ying looking at him, but then continued his progress through the room with a measured pace, finally arriving at Wei Ying’s bedside. He did not speak, but silently placed several items onto Wei Ying’s bedside table. Wei Ying saw a book, what looked to be some healthy snacks, as well as… his phone? It looked terribly beaten up, but a traffic accident might do that to a phone. He should probably be glad if it still worked.

The stranger must have noticed the direction of his gaze, for he finally opened his mouth.

“I have taken the liberty of contacting you place of work.”

“Thank you,” Wei Ying said, sending the stranger an ironic smile. “What I’d rather like to know, though… who are you?”

The stranger bowed slightly, as if to apologise for his rudeness.

“Lan Zhan,” he said. “I was the one… who hit you with my car.”

“Oh, I see,” Wei Ying said, several things suddenly becoming clear to him. “This is a ‘I’m feeling guilty’ visit. Don’t worry about that. It’s fine. I’ll be out of here in no time.”

The stranger, Lan Zan, frowned at Wei Ying’s words.

“It is not guilt that has made me come here,” he said.

Then he was silent again. Wei Ying waited for a moment, but when nothing else happened, he raised his eyebrows at Lan Zhan, encouraging him to go on. Lan Zhan looked as if he’d rather do anything else than open his mouth again, but eventually, thanks to Wei Ying’s pathetic wheedling, he conceded.

“The one responsible for your accident was the driver who suddenly came out of a side street and nearly ran you over,” Lan Zhan explained. “You ended up in front of my car because you were trying to escape his path of collision. He also crashed into my car, nearly hitting you a second time. I have no guilt to speak of, but I am grateful that you survived. I was worried, however, when your family could not be contacted.”

“Oh, uh, well,” Wei Ying stuttered. “Honestly, that shouldn’t be any concern to you. I’ll be fine. My family… well, it doesn’t matter.”

“Your family should care for you if you are injured.”

There was a stubborn set around Lan Zhan’s mouth, and Wei Ying suddenly found himself smiling. He wasn’t sure if he should call it fortune or misfortune, but this Lan Zhan was clearly an incredibly stiff man with very strict notions of propriety, to the point where he involved himself into the affairs of others.

“Ah, Lan-gege,” Wei Ying sighed. “Not to say I’m not very grateful for your help, which I am, but let me assure you that you have officially fulfilled your obligations and are free to leave. You have already done more than I can ask for. If it is as you say, I have no ill feelings towards you. Feel free to go on with your life, and sorry about the car. I think I need to sleep again, I feel very tired.”

He was, in fact, feeling very tired, and it was getting harder to keep his eyes open by the minute.

Lan Zhan seemed to realise that that was the case. He said his goodbyes, but before he left the room, he announced, “I will come again.”

Wei Ying wanted to object, but Lan Zhan was already gone, and Wei Ying’s eyes were closing.

---

The next few days passed in the monotony of sleeping, check-ups by doctors and nurses, terrible hospital meals, and occasional visits from Lan Zhan.

As handsome as he might have been, at first Wei Ying really didn’t want Lan Zhan to come back again. He quickly learned to be grateful for his frequent visits, however. Staying in the hospital was extremely boring, even with the books that Lan Zhan brought him, and everything was much better once he trained Lan Zhan to bring him spicy snacks.

After a few excessively boring days in bed (more than he cared for, certainly), he was finally allowed to walk around a little in order to regain his strength, and Lan Zhan would take him outside into the garden whenever he visited. Wei Ying was extremely grateful for that, since the nurses didn’t allow him to go alone.

Wei Ying quickly learned on their little excursions that Lan Zhan rarely spoke, but was an extremely attentive listener who would prove said attention in the most unexpected moments. It was almost shocking sometimes; Wei Ying would ramble on about something, and Lan Zhan would suddenly say one thing or another that made clear he had been paying attention when most people would have tuned out already. It was… flattering, to say the least. To have someone pay attention to him so much. Definitely something Wei Ying could get used to.

Lan Zhan was also very attentive to Wei Ying’s physical state. More than once, when Wei Ying felt his own strength lagging, he suddenly found Lan Zhan’s hand at his elbow, steadily and unobtrusively making sure that he didn’t fall over his own clumsy feet. Lan Zhan seemed to know that he needed support almost before Wei Ying himself realised it.

Normally, he would complain about being thought a weakling, but if Wei Ying were honest, he would admit that sometimes, he really needed the support. And well… he couldn’t really bring himself to mind being spoiled by a handsome man. If he were really honest, he would confess that he simply liked Lan Zhan’s hands on him, and any excuse that provided him with an opportunity was good enough, even if he had to play up his weakness.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said when they were on one of their garden excursions one day, eating little cups of mango panna cotta that Lan Zhan had brought with him today on a bench. “I will be released tomorrow. You don’t have to visit me here any longer after today.”

“Hn,” Lan Zhan agreed. “What time?”

“Around ten, I think? Why do you ask?”

“I will pick you up.”

Wei Ying sighed deeply and swallowed the last spoonful of dessert.

“Lan Zhan, ah, Lan Zhan. I can ask a friend to pick me up. You shouldn’t do so many things for me. If you are too nice, people will end up misunderstanding. Well, I will end up misunderstanding. You wouldn’t want that to happen, now would you?”

He directed his best salacious grin at Lan Zhan.

“Nn,” Lan Zhan replied noncommittally. “I will pick you up.”

Wei Ying stared at Lan Zhan for a moment. Could it be that Lan Zhan was that thick? That he didn’t realise what Wei Ying was getting at? Did he have to spell it out for Lan Zhan? That he meant misunderstanding in the sense of kissing and possibly getting naked with each other?

“Lan Zhan, I’m serious,” Wei Ying complained, tugging at Lan Zhan’s sleeve to make him look at him properly. “I will misunderstand.”

Lan Zhan looked at him, and it struck Wei Ying again how beautiful Lan Zhan’s eyes were. He had thought that Lan Zhan was pretty much expressionless when they first got to know each other, but that had been patently untrue. His perpetually serious eyes were the source of so much deeply felt emotion. Everything Lan Zhan felt, he felt with his entire heart. So when Lan Zhan looked at him, Wei Ying automatically felt his pulse speed up and his cheeks start to grow hot. That was the effect Lan Zhan had on anyone he really directed his attention towards.

“I will pick you up,” Lan Zhan repeated once again. Stubbornly, insistently. Mulishly.

Without breaking their line of sight even once. Just serious. And steady.

“Oh,” Wei Ying whispered.

Oh. Lan Zhan didn’t want him to misunderstand. Lan Zhan wanted him to understand.

Wei Ying shot up from the bench they had been sitting on and walked over to the trash can close by, to throw away his empty cup of panna cotta. Lan Zhan followed him, throwing his own cup into the trash. As he did it, he looked about as disquieted as Lan Zhan ever did, but right now, Wei Ying was unable to handle anything.

Could he be right? Did Lan Zhan – that Lan Zhan –

As he stood there, he slightly tilted to the side – and there he was, Lan Zhan was right at his side, steadying him. But right now, Wei Ying didn’t want to be steadied. He leaned further into Lan Zhan’s side, putting most of his weight on Lan Zhan right until his head a found a home in the crook of Lan Zhan’s neck.

“Ah, Lan Zhan,” he sighed. “Taking advantage of the weak and injured, I see. Do you always flirt like that? Picking people up at the hospital?”

He looked up at Lan Zhan and smiled.

Lan Zhan didn’t answer, but one of his arms most definitely found its way around Wei Ying’s waist, holding him securely to Lan Zhan’s side. It was… intimate.

It was answer enough.

“This is the part where you’re supposed to say ‘No, Wei Ying is the only one for me,’” Wei Ying pouted.

“Wei Ying is the only one for me,” Lan Zhan intoned seriously.

Wei Ying had to bury his face in his hands and scream a little.

“You can’t say things like that out of the blue!” he complained. “My poor, beaten body won’t be able to take it!”

Then he peeked out between the gaps between his fingers, up at Lan Zhan.

“Say it again.”

 (When Lan Zhan picked him up the next day, he received a kiss for his efforts.)

(One kiss, or many.)

(Who was going to count.)

[luxaryllis]

I actually know how to make it from scratch! If you don't know how to work in a kitchen much it can be tricky, but it's easy if you work quickly. I like adding vanilla ice cream in mines.

Anyways,

🥭🌭🥞 🦥

~🍰

37. Favorite fruit 🥭

Oohhh, I'm not exactly picky with the fruits I eat, tbh. But my absolute favorites are definitely apple, strawberry, and kiwi!! Mangoes come a close second.

21. Favorite fastfood 🌭

Idk- French fries?? Idk ahaha. But when it comes to fastfood restaurants, it's a tie between Burger King and McDonald's.

30. Favorite snack 🥞

Pandesal (basically bread buns??), if that counts. If not, then maybe chocolate cookies, or just about anything with chocolate.

33. Things you do with friends 🦥

Oohhh. Probably ranting to each other about stuff. I personally like to rant and ramble about stuff to Lou (@madasme-luxary) when we find the time to call.

----

Oohh, really? Fun fact, my mom gave me hot chocolate just a while ago for breakfast (she didn't make it tho, it was Swiss Miss) ehe

If possible, do you think u could send me how to make hot chocolate? I'd love to try soon!

Anyway, thanks for joining, 🍰 anon!! 💙

[collecting-stories]

Dear Diary - JJ Maybank

Request: Hi!! I have a fluffy fic request if u dont mind - JJ and y/n are best friends, but y/n has a huge crush on him and she writes abt it in her diary a lot. One day JJ accidentally sees a page where she is rambling abt him, and he's very happy cos he loves her too, but never told her anything as he was afraid of a possible rejection. So he starts giving her massive hints re: his feelings and then they eventually confess their love to each other. ❤

Request: can I have one with JJ please? Where the reader is in love with JJ but thinking he is in love with Kie or someone else. JJ loves the reader but is to scared to telling her. Can you make this with angst and fluffy? Thank you ❤️❤️

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The first and only time that you had worked up the courage to tell JJ that you had a crush on him you were fourteen. Just finished ninth grade, a little shier than the rest of your friends, excited about the summer, and harboring a monumental crush on your best friend. You had hoped, stupidly, that he liked you back and had eagerly pulled him aside during a party to tell him that you liked him.  

“Well?” And when he didn’t answer you back after a minute, just looking back over his shoulder to your friend group, to Kiara, you started to get nervous. This had been all wrong.  

“I just, don’t think I like you like that.” JJ replied, looking back at you, eyes apologetic, “Sorry, I think we’re awesome friends.”

“Yeah, friends.” You nodded, “that’s fine.”

“I just-” he glanced at Kiara again, laughing at something John B was saying.  

“It’s okay, seriously, it’s good.” You promised, knowing full well that you were lying to him. It wasn’t okay and you were slowly realizing that the ache you felt from not telling him was not worse than the absolute heartbreak you felt now, standing there knowing that he didn’t like you. That you were just a friend and that’s all you ever would be.  

Crushes are peculiar things though and you no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t shake yours. JJ was impossible to avoid, even if you had truly wanted to, but you did what you could to lessen the amount of time you spent with him. That first summer after you told him it was like he was everywhere you went. Like the universe was constantly reminding you of your failed attempt at love, putting JJ in your way no matter what you were doing. At a party, surfing with Pope, at your house, at the Chateau, it was like he was always around. The only option you saw for yourself was to distance yourself from the pogues too.  

And you did, because it worked. Staying away helped ease the heartache. Polite hellos and the occasional fishing trip with Pope or John B, you kept your distance from JJ and Kiara by proxy, terrified that you would hear something you didn’t want to if you stayed close. But even after three years and purposeful distance your crush didn’t lessen.  

The only thing that seemed to ease your mind was journaling. You’d been keeping journals for as long as you could remember, documenting moments in time that you thought you wanted to look back on someday. Good moments like parties and every time JJ said a single syllable to you and bad times, like how you knew he didn’t like you and you were positive he liked Kiara.  

The bell above the door of the smoothie shop you worked at rang as JJ and Pope walked in and you pushed your journal away from you before they could get a glimpse. “Hey stranger,” JJ grinned as he walked over, leaning against the counter.  

You could feel your heart beat pick up at the close proximity and caught the knowing smile that Pope gave you over JJ’s shoulder. “Hey,”

“I feel like I never see you.” He said, eyeing the board, “can I get a blue mango smoothie?”

“We just saw each other on Friday.” You offered, moving away from him to make the smoothie he asked for. He’d talk his way out of paying for it until either you or Pope fronted the bill, something you were used to when he did come around.  

Every couple of weeks, for a least the last year and half when JJ realized that you and he seemed to be drifting apart, he started dropping in at your work, looking for you. Sometimes you saw him before he saw you, ducking into the back and getting a co-worker to wait on him. But sometimes, like today, it was slow and you were the only one in the shop.  

“Barely, I offered you a beer and then I didn’t see you for the rest of the night.”

“Oh, I guess,” you shrugged, “I was talking to some guy from school.”

“What about?”

“Uh...none of your business.” You replied.

Pope laughed at your back and forth, grabbing a water bottle from the refrigerator by the counter, “I hate to ditch but I promised my dad I’d run groceries for him. Don’t let him talk you into paying for that!”  

“I pay for my drinks!” JJ called as Pope backed out of the store, waving at you. “I pay for my drinks.” He repeated, turning back to face you.  

“Okay.”

“So I was thinking,” he started to say, cut off by the whirring of the blender. You glanced back and frowned at him, shrugging about the noise before turning back. You were hoping he would leave once he’d gotten the smoothie, drawn away by something else. When the blender cut off finally and you took it out of it’s holder JJ continued on, seemingly unphased, “I was thinking you haven’t been out on the boat with us in a while.”

“I guess not,” you had steered clear of any group activities since you told him you liked him. An incredible feat considering you were turning eighteen soon and you’d been fourteen then. “I work a lot though.”

“Take a day off.”  

“I’ll try.” You offered, passing the smoothie across the counter to him. JJ reached out for it, hand brushing yours and smiling like he knew what his smile did to you. “Maybe saturday...if you guys are going.” It didn’t take much to wear you down.

“Saturday’s good.” He nodded, taking a sip, “hey-”

“You forgot your wallet.”

“No, I had my wallet...but it was in Pope’s pocket. Cause we switched shorts earlier, cause his got a stain on them and he didn’t want to wear those to wor-”

“Are you trying to sell me a story right now?” You laughed, “we may not hang out all the time J but I’ve known you long enough, I can tell you’re lying.”

“I’ve fooled you once or twice.”

“Name a time.” You laughed, punching in the employee discount for the smoothie before swiping your own credit card.  

JJ bit down on his bottom lip, eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at you, more serious than the playful nature of the conversation called for, as if he was thinking about something he’d said before. Finally, he shook his head, smiling and tapping the counter, “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

You were right, JJ knew he couldn’t lie to you but that didn’t mean that he had never tried. He had lied to you once, in the seventeen years that the two of you were friends, and actually pulled it off. And he’d regretted it ever since.  

-

As promised, because you lacked the ability to resist JJ, you showed up to the Chateau in the morning on Saturday. He was already out on the jetty, throwing fishing gear in the Pogue, just in case.  

“Does that cooler have person food or fish food?” You called, walking up to him. You handed you backpack to him and let him help you on board. When you stepped down he didn’t move away, crowding your space and looking down at you. You looked away quickly, though you didn’t miss the way he licked his lips as you skirted passed him.  

“Neither,” JJ finally said, popping the top up so you could look inside, “it’s all beer baby.”

You laughed, shaking your head at him. “I shouldn’t be surprised I guess. Where’s everyone else?”

“Pope and John B have work and Kie said she’s busy...sorry.”

“That’s okay, we can hang out.” You replied, shrugging, trying to calm your nerves as you stepped over some reels to sit down.  

“Exactly.” JJ agreed.  

In complete honesty he had texted John B after seeing you in the smoothie shop, asking if he could take the boat out on Saturday and, if asked, John B could pretend that he was super busy. He hadn’t really put anymore planning into this then that, despite Kiara telling him that he should. The last thing JJ wanted was to make you feel cornered or worse, to have you find out that he knew that you still liked him.  

It was an accident, really. A rather happy one, on his end. He’d been at a party with Pope when he noticed your backpack abandoned by the pool. He recognized the pins on the front and went over to grab it, finding a notebook beneath it that had your name on the inside with homemade stickers all over the front.  

“What are you doing?” Pope had whispered, leaning passed his best friend to see what JJ was looking at. Pope had seen you with your journal enough times to know exactly what it was. “Put that back.”

“Why? It’s just a notebook...” he replied, voice drifting off as he flipped through the pages, landing on one from the day before. In the dim light of the torches that lined the pool area JJ had caught sight of his name in your handwriting and stopped to read the page. He knew, technically, that it wasn’t a good idea for him to be reading something that you clearly didn’t intend to ever have anyone read, an invasion of privacy, he was sure Kiara would say.

“JJ!” Pope reached around him and grabbed the notebook out of his hand, slapping it closed and shoving it back into your backpack, “dude, don’t read that.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He shook his head, not saying out loud what he had just read. He’d seen it though, that you still liked him. Despite ninth grade and the one great lie that JJ told you. Despite the distance you had manufactured between you and him. You still liked him and JJ was determined to let you know that he liked you too.

He knew that he couldn’t just come out and say it though. How would that go? Him confessing that he read your diary and knew you liked him and guess what it was the incentive he needed because he liked you too but he was so worried about fucking things up that he just insisted on being friends. No, that would never work. You’d be pissed that he had read something he was never meant to. So he let Pope return your backpack and he started a long game of hints. Blatant hints that he was interested, or so he thought but you didn’t seem to realize. You were oblivious that every time he stopped in the smoothie shop or sought you out at parties or invited you to hang out that he was trying to tell you that he liked you.  

So he tried the more direct approach. An afternoon on the boat, just the two of you. But that wasn’t working either cause he was listening to you talk about some dumb podcast series your dad was obsessed with and how he would play it top volume throughout the house.  

“And the guy said-”

“Oh my god!” JJ groaned. He’d tried sitting close and touching your back and telling you that you looked nice and holding your hand when you stepped on board and you were with him, alone, on the boat, for gods sake.  

“What’s the matter?” You asked, a little startled at his sudden outburst.

“You. This.” JJ practically shouted, standing up on the boat suddenly and making it sway a little. “Not...what I mean is...I know I shouldn’t have but I read your diary thing and I know you still like me and I like you.”

“You read my diary? When?”

“At that party like last month,” He said, “did you hear me? I said I like you?”

“I heard you say you read my diary! JJ, that’s my personal thoughts and feelings, I can’t believe you read that!” You were comprehending one part of the conversation at a time and your brain had settled on this. That he had invaded your privacy.

“I didn’t mean too! I opened it and saw my name!”

“You should’ve closed it!”

“Well I didn’t!” He raised his voice to match yours, both of you almost shouting at each other on a boat in the middle of the marsh.

“Oh and what? You read it and thought ‘how pathetic she still likes me’ and now you’ve done all this?”

“Are you kidding me? You think I can even plan something that far in advance? I tried like 12 other ways of telling you I like you! And what are you talking about...I’m telling you I like you!”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well tough shit cause I do. And I know you like me too cause I read it!” He insisted.  

You crossed your arms and looked away from him for a moment, a deep set frown as you thought about what he said. He liked you. “Like...like me, like me?” You asked slowly, looking back at him.

“Yeah.” He replied, shoulders drooping as he relaxed.  

“Well I like you too.”

“I know.”

“JJ!” You groaned.  

He bit his lower lip as he sat down next to you on the bench, facing you. “So...we both like each other?” He said, grinning.  

“It would appear so.” You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling as you twisted to face him. “This doesn’t mean free smoothies though, you owe me like...20 bucks, at least.”

“We’re gonna need to negotiate these terms.”  

-

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife  @freckled-and-daydreaming @chasefreakinstokes@millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27@dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @tiredfeels @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla@vindictive-hearts @poguestyleskye @ssprayberrythings @jenahbell@beautyandthebleh @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @kissessforharryyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @mirjanak@danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @celestialmaybank @mybnkjj @pineappleandcherries @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @balletandyuzu @oh-annaa@aiifandomsunite @x-lulu @ceruleanjj  @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @allie-mcginn@pcterparxer @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee@crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians@buckys-sunflower @vindictive-hearts@copper-boom @talksoprettyjjx @5am-cigarette @smiithys @dontjinx-it @outerbanksbro @mysticsthinking @heavenlymama  @rudy-pankow-needs-an-oscar @babymatilda@raekenliar @jolomez @timotaychalabae  @summerkaulitz @lemur46 @haute-shawn 

[dulce-pjm]

get to know me tag game !!

tagged by the lovely @hauntedlilies !! thanks sweet m! these are always fun :))

as usual i rambled and got a little personal with the answers so you know all you followers keep building up the blackmail material i guess LOL

When is your birthday?

january 15!

What is your favorite color?

ahhh it’s always changing but rn i’m vibing with purple, pink, green, and yellow :))

What’s your lucky number?

7, 10, 15 :)

Do you have any pets?

yes !!! two cats and two dogs and i adore them !!!

How tall are you?

5′8″ (watch out jimin!! based on the evidence i have seven years left to outgrow you !!!)

How many pairs of shoes do you own?

i haven’t a clue

Favorite song?

my go-to answer is always seesaw but tbh it’s so hard to pick !!

Favorite movie?

agghhhhhh how do you choose???? i’ve mostly been watching animated movies recently bc it comforts me so probably your name or monster’s inc :)

What would be your ideal partner?

...park jimin?

LOL in all seriousness... i tend to like extroverts and just people who are super passionate about something !!! both romantically and in any relationship!! honestly oikawa tooru is the template i would drop everything and marry him he is a precious petty idiot and i love him the most

Do you want children?

fjdslgkhsdlkfjlsd not right now !!!! i tend to not answer this question too directly because i have plenty of time to think about it and i don’t want to tie myself to any direction !!!

Have you gotten in trouble with the law?

lol no but i think after a quick scroll through my tumblr you could have guessed that 

What color socks are you wearing?

no socks !!! unless it’s winter and i’m freezing sleeping in socks is a crime >:( but earlier i was wearing pink and purple socks !

Bath or shower?

depends !! but i never feel clean after a bath and still end up showering, the bath is just for me to chill 

Favorite type of music?

hmmmm kpop, musical theatre, minecraft music LOL

How many pillows do you sleep with?

four !! SLFKJLDSGH lol

Which position do you sleep in?

depends !!! i used to sleep exclusively on my stomach but i’ve changed a bit and honestly any position is possible! but no matter what i am cuddling a pillow (with the other three piled around me) and probably holding my own hand LOL 

What don’t you like when you’re sleeping?

being cold :( i can deal with hot but being freezing is terrible !! i like to spread out but when you’re cold you have to like curl yourself up to preserve heat

What do you have for breakfast?

cold leftovers are the ideal breakfast <3 i used to like breakfast foods but most of them just make me nauseous now so i end up just eating leftovers or coffee/tea 

Have you ever tried archery?

like once? like literally did one shot. was not good 

Favorite fruit?

strawberries !!!! yum yum yum (after that probably mango)

Favorite swear word?

i don’t know that i have a favorite but i say fuck the most LOL

Do you have any scars?

yes !! i’m clumsy so i have many burn scars on my hands from cooking or curling my hair (the biggest one was very creatively named Mark by my bestie and beta reader @delayedimperfection). i also have several scars from my psycho/lovely cat on my arms and hands (and then i went in the sun after getting several of them and yeah they probably will never go away it’s fine)

Are you a good liar?

nope !!! especially if you know me i think my tells are just easy to pick up on!! i rarely win as imposter in among us :( tragic 

What’s your personality type?

infp-t!! i think that’s what this is asking

What’s your favorite type of girl?

all !!!! 

Left or right handed?

right !! my left hand is useless <33

Favorite food?

sushi !!!! it’s filling but a lot of food makes me nauseous nowadays and i never feel that way after eating sushi 

Are you clean or messy?

messy !!

Favorite foreign food?

well i guess sushi LOL but i am always down to try something new!

How long does it take for you to get ready?

depends on how greasy my hair is!! anywhere from five minutes to an hour-ish

Most used phrase?

lol probably “oh my gosh” and “oh my god.” i also say this phrase that’s like from a specific city but i honestly do not even know to spell it it’s like gibberish i don’t even know

**update (not that anyone was asking) but i did some research and the phrase is jeezle petes!! it’s not exclusive to the city i picked it up from but that one city is how i learned it :))

Are you a good singer?

lol i’d like to hope so !!! i did musical theatre for several years so if i’m terrible well whoops? lol

Do you sing to yourself?

of course !!! 

Biggest fear?

ummmm idk i am such a scaredy cat so i’d say most things spook me !! i guess i’d say abandonment as a serious answer and ghosts as a silly(ish) one 

Do you like long or short hair?

i generally like shorter hair (on myself and other people) but i mean different hairstyles suit different people !!

Are you into gossip?

idk i don’t like to speculate and i try to always give people the benefit of the doubt but !!! if it’s me and my mom in the car well then no fucking mercy 

Extrovert or introvert?

introvert !!!! if you message me first i’ll love you forever (also hence why i love extroverts, they balance me out !!)

Favorite school subject?

i love love love chemistry and any kind of science !!!! (definitely haven’t projected that into any of my fics no no no...)

What makes you nervous?

being in unfamiliar places !! i hate feeling lost or feeling like people can tell that i’m lost

Who was your first real crush?

fjdlsghsdlk idk... i have such a hard time expressing and processing romantic feelings that i’m not really sure that i’ve had one !!! my best guess is probably my best friend a few years ago but honestly i don’t really even think i had a crush, i was just trying to reciprocate how he felt SJLDGKJLSDGKH this is soooo personal anyways~~~~~

How many piercings do you have?

i used to have three in each ear but due to some unfortunate circumstances two (in each ear) grew in :( i plan to get them re-pierced soon though !!

How fast can you run?

GJLSDGHLDKF idk ????? i’d like to think i’m relatively fast because i have longer legs but honestly that’s such a lie i have to be in fear to really be fast LOL

What makes you angry?

hmmm!! tbh it takes a lot to make me mad, i’m pretty chill and usually i get sad/upset rather than actually angry! but the quickest way to make me mad is to like expect something from me and never communicate it!! i can’t read your fucking mind i’m the biggest people pleaser i know and would probably bend over backwards for you if you just told me GJSLDKFHL yes this is about a very specific set of instances <3333

Do you like your own name?

yeah, actually !! naomi is an alias, i chose it just for fun, but i like my irl name too :)

What are your weaknesses?

my crippling self doubt :’) also i’m so ticklish it isn’t funny. hmmmm i also tend to put other people’s needs before my own and then let them take advantage of that GHLSDKFJS it’s fine. AND i need everyone to like me all the time especially when they are mean to me (which makes me easy to manipulate unfortunately flsdkghdlskfj why am i giving out this info)

What are your strengths?

i think i give okay advice and i’m good at teaching other people things !!! i’ve also been told i’m very genuine and honest :)

What is the color of your bedspread?

grey !!

Color of your room?

lol grey, white, and then honestly just an assorted bunch of colors

this was fun !!! tagging @softbobamilktae, @moon-write​, and @jtrbluv !!!

[color-me-malfoy]

Trip To Hogsmeade

Draco Malfoy x Shy!Reader

Summary: Draco tries to impress you when the two of you become partners on the trip to Hogsmeade, but exactly how will it turn out?

“Alright, third-years, gather round, there are a few reminders before we start your first trip to Hogsmeade,” A prefect clapped her hands to get your attention before you left Hogwarts. “We have a few changes so that none of us go wandering around and getting into… accidents.”

Draco worked his way through the crowd of students looking for you, Y/N L/N, the person he really wanted to go to Hogsmeade with.

He twisted and turned through the groups of students, until he caught a glimpse of your hair from behind.

“In order not to have any cases of lost students, each of you must have a partner.”

Everyone cheered at this, but to you it meant looking for a complete stranger to be partners with, because your best friend, Toni was sick and couldn’t come.

Draco smiled unwittingly as he saw you, but before he could start walking, a hand grabbed his shoulder.

He rolled his eyes and swatted the hand away.

“Excuse m- Pansy?” His expression changed.

She was staring at him with a knowing expression.

“You’re going to ask her to Hogsmeade, aren’t you?”

“Wha- What are you talking about-”

He stopped when Pansy raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“Alright, yes I am,” he grumbled.

“So, you do like Y/N L/N,” Marcus peeked from behind Pansy.

Draco stopped, then stuttered, then groaned and flailed his hands.

“Alright, yes! I like her! How about instead of teasing me, you actually help a chap out? Care to give some advice?”

“Well, I know for a fact that girls like surprises,” Marcus winked.

“Appreciated,” Draco turned around and walked away, leaving Pansy and Marcus together.

“You shouldn’t have told him that, Marcus.”

“Yes, I know. I shouldn’t have told him that,” he buried his face in his hands.

=

While students buzzed here and there looking for their friends, you awkwardly stood by one side. You almost decided to just go on your own until someone made his way toward you.

White hair, Dark-green clothes, and a manipulative smirk?

You must be Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin heartthrob.

“You.” He pointed as he made his way toward you faster.

“M-Me?” You looked around.

“Yes, you,” he rolled his eyes, then stopped about four feet away from you. “Am I right to assume you don’t have a partner yet?”

You huffed bitterly. “Well, aren’t you the biggest genius on Earth,” you looked away.

“If you’d stop being sarcastic,” he snapped in front of your face, “you’ve already got one.”

You looked back up at him, furrowing your eyebrows. “Who?”

He sighed loudly, then gestured towards himself, smiling. “Me! Surprise!”

“You?”

“Well, I’ve got no one, you’ve got no one, so…” he waved his hands around.

“You could have asked more properly, but alright,” you walked over to his side.

“Then it’s bloody settled! Let’s go to Hogsmeade!” he held his arm out for you to take and the both of you started for the carriages, Draco with a successful grin and you with a confused look on your face.

=

For the first part of the ride to Hogsmeade, neither of you said a word to the other, because you were still so confused about why Draco chose you, and Draco was anxiously thinking about a good way to start a conversation.

“Psst.”

Draco whirled around, and saw two students behind him, their faces covered with their newspapers.

The first student put their newspaper down.

“Pansy?” he whispered. “Were you watching us this entire time?”

The second person put their newspaper down too.

“You too, Marcus? What, are you two going into the spy business?”

Marcus snorted. “You wish, we’re only here to tell you you’re doing it all wrong.”

“What gives you the right to judge?” Draco sneered. “I bet you’ve never even asked a girl to Hogsmeade.”

“He asked me,” Pansy replied. “Besides, has Y/N even talked to you?”

“She has! She called me the biggest genius on Earth!”

“It was sarcastic, Draco.”

Draco stopped.

“I-It was?”

“Draco, she won’t like you if you’re being a sarcastic plonker,” Marcus rolled his eyes. “Be kind.”

Pansy laughed. “Oh, I’d love to see Draco Malfoy, cheeky little bastard of Slytherin, trying to be kind.”

Draco smirked. “Oh, yeah? Try me.”

He turned back around and looked back at you, wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers.

Great, he thought. I still don’t know how to start.

Marcus went back to reading The Daily Prophet, but Pansy swatted it away.

“What?” Marcus turned to her.

“I want to see how this ends,” she said, leaning a little forward in her seat as you turned in your seat to face Draco.

“Were you going to ask me something?”

Draco opened his mouth, trying to think of something, then closed his mouth again. “I-I forgot what I was thinking about, sorry.”

“Oh,” you laughed, “happens all the time, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he turned even more towards you. “Anyway, what do you wanna talk about, Y/N?”

“Oh, um, I don’t know,” you scratched the back of your neck, looking anywhere but at him. “How’s your studies?”

“Ah, well, I enjoy it,” Draco replied.

Marcus snickered into his sleeve, while Pansy blinked unbelievingly.

“Did he just say he enjoyed it?” she asked.

Draco realized how fake that sounded, and internally kicked himself for that. “Well, I don’t actually enjoy it, I mean, I hate studying, but it’s bearable,” he rambled.

You laughed and nodded, then turned back to the rolling fields.

Draco buried his face in his hands and turned behind him.

“I almost died listening to your conversation, Draco,” Pansy said as she filed her nails.

“You had to make it straight to the point, didn’t you?” Draco hissed. “Do you two have any other good ideas, or are you just here to gloat?”

“Well, what’s the one thing that’s good about you that no matter how much of a bloody git you are everyone tries to suck you up?” Marcus asked.

“I’m… good-looking?” Draco gestured to his face.

“No, you idiot, you’re rich!” Marcus cried. “That’s why everyone calls you the spoiled brat of Slytherin!”

“…They do?” Draco tilted his head to the side, offended.

Pansy pushed Marcus’s face out of the way.

“That’s not the point! You have literally more money in your hands than what both my parents make in a month!” she explained. “Buy her candy from Honeydukes or something!”

She yelped in surprise when Draco suddenly snapped his fingers.

“Of course! Girls love gifts! Thanks, Pansy, see you!”

=

The minute the carriage stopped, Draco took your hand and helped you out.

“Where do you want to go?” Draco asked as the two of you strolled down the street.

“Y-You’re asking me?” You looked up at him. “I don’t know, how about Honeydukes?”

“Sure,” he led you into the candy shop.

Your smile grew wider at all the kinds of candy shelved in the tiny store.

“Wow, I feel like Willy Wonka!”

Draco snorted. “What kind of a name is that?”

“Oh,” you laughed. “Willy Wonka’s not a real person, he’s a fictional character. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, have you ever heard of it?”

He shook his head.

“He owns this huge candy factory with all kinds of sweets,” you wistfully recalled, staring “This feels just like it.”

As you looked around at the assorted candies, Draco was anxiously buzzing through the shop deciding on what to buy you.

You were looking at a heap of candy apple lollipops when Draco tapped you on the shoulder.

He was carrying seventeen boxes of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.

“D-Draco?” You gasped. “Hey, I’ll help you! Why are you buying these many boxes?”

He shoved it all into a basket, getting the attention of nearly everyone in the shop.

“I’m buying it for you,” he grinned, and some people were whispering, asking each other who “Draco’s Lucky Girl” was.

“Oh! Well, thanks, but why seventeen boxes?”

“Well, if you buy only a few, it’ll just be Bertie Bott’s Several Flavor Beans.”

“I-I don’t actually need seventeen boxes of these, I’ll never be able to finish them! I’ll just take one.”

“Oh, oka- One?” Draco looked at you, perplexed.

“We-well, actually not one, I’ll buy another for Toni!” You plucked another box and returned the rest to the shelf. “And just a mango starburst and a sherbet lemon-”

“Wait, wait, wait. You come to Hogsmeade for the first time and you only buy these?”

“Well, there’s plenty of food at Hogwarts and I don’t eat much-”

He cut you off.

“I’m getting you one of everything.”

“I couldn’t possibly pay for all that- wait, you’re getting me one of everything?”

“Yes! Didn’t you hear me?” He walked past you, taking every kind of candy he saw.

“I-I… Well, thank you?” You muttered as he came back with three baskets, then led you to the counter. You looked around and saw some of your schoolmates, some staring at the two of you in wonder and curiosity and some others giving you grins. Others drooled at the amount of candy you had in your hands… for free!

=

Fifty minutes later, after the grueling process of packaging the candy from Honeydukes, Draco was grinning like a boy on Christmas Day as he faced Pansy and Marcus, who were behind them at the line at The Three Broomsticks.

"This is the first time I've ever spent money on anyone besides myself, just so you know," he smirked as he wiped off the sweat on his forehead. "I feel great! What do you think?"

Pansy shared an uneasy glance with Marcus before she sighed and held Draco by the arms, whispering.

"Um, We hate to burst your bubble, Malfoy, but you're doing a terrible job."

Draco stared at her in confusion, then laughed nervously. "You're kidding, right?"

"She's right, Malfoy," Marcus hesitated. "You've been pulling Y/N like a poor puppy on a leash for the past two hours."

"Malfoy, you've got to let her do what she wants," Pansy explained. "We told you to spoil her, not to force her to buy everything. She never wanted seventeen boxes of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans! I mean, did you even ask?"

Malfoy chewed on his bottom lip. "Well, I guess you're right for once, Parkinson," he mumbled.

"Hey, man up, Malfoy," Pansy ruffled Draco's hair. "Besides, I found out from her friend Toni that she likes you too."

Malfoy looked up and grinned. "She does?"

Pansy cut him off. "Wait, before you go buy her the whole Hogsmeade to proclaim your love for her, remember she's still the shyest girl in Hogwarts," she warned.

"Alright," Draco nodded, then turned to check his wallet.

"That's the spirit, Malfoy!" Marcus cheered, then turned to Pansy and lowered his voice to a whisper. "How'd you get Toni Yorkshire to tell you Y/N liked Draco?"

"I made truth potion and snuck it in her food," Pansy winked. "Then I asked her about it and she sang like a bloody bird."

"Is that why she's absent today?"

"Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies, Flint."

=

Draco mulled over their words, until he felt your light tap on his shoulder.

"Draco?" you called.

"Yeah?"

"It's our turn."

"Oh, it's our turn," he placed a hand on your back and guided you to the front. "One Gillywater with candy ice and..." he turned to you. "What'll you be getting, darling?"

Trying to hide your surprise at the nickname, you cleared your throat awkwardly and looked down at the floor. "A-A butterbeer, please. With a just a splash of milk, thanks."

"Alright, dears," the woman at the counter wrote down your orders, "a Gillywater on the ice and a butterbeer with milk for the happy couple," she winked at you.

The happy what?

You sputtered and let out a nervous laugh.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but we're not dating."

"Yet," Draco laughed.

"W-What?" You turned to him with a red face.

The woman chuckled at your reaction.

"Why don't you two go find a place to sit?" she asked cheerily. "We'll bring your drinks over."

You nodded shyly and thanked her. But as you were about to take your wallet out, but Draco put a hand over yours.

"This one's on me," he smirked as he went through his own wallet, then handed a wad of money to the woman. "Go find us a table, Y/N."

You blushed even harder, smiled, and thanked him and the woman one last time before scurrying away to find a table.

The woman watched Draco as he gazed at you.

"You've got it bad for the lass, haven't you, Mister Malfoy?" she smiled as she pulled two mugs from the shelf behind the counter.

"No I haven't," he rolled his eyes.

"Sure you don't, sir," she poured their drinks. "I've seen that look on many a young lad in my days, I know a lovesick boy when I see one."

"Well, congratulations," Draco huffed. "Maybe I do."

"Listen 'ere, 'sonny," the woman placed their drinks on a tray as she spoke, "If I were you, I'd keep in mind that the best way to a lady's heart is... through her heart."

Draco tilted his head in confusion. "I-I don't understand."

"You don't actually make her fall for you by changing anything about yourself, or buying 'er expensive things, the more important things are being a gent to her and letting her be who she is."

Draco nodded his head at her words.

"Thank you Ma'am, I better be going back to my girl," he took the drinks and went around to find you, but turned around to face her. "If things go well, I'll let you know!"

=

"Here you go, Y/N, your butterbeer with extra milk and a Gillywater for me," he placed the tray down at your table.

"I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me, Malfoy," you smiled.

"It's nothing, really," he replied as he sat down.

He stared at you as you sipped your butterbeer and looked back up at him with foam on the sides of your lips, and he chuckled at how adorable you looked.

"What?" you laughed. "Do I have butterbeer on my mouth?"

He shook his head and smiled. "It's just... no, it's..."

"I do, don't I?" You laughed as you wiped your lips on the back of your hand. He laughed even harder because the foam didn't come off.

"Let me get it," he took the end of his scarf, leaned in, and pressed it to your lips.

The both of you had blushed positively cherry-red by the time he sat back down.

You mumbled a thanks and drank more butterbeer, shyly avoiding his gaze, and he took his mug of Gillywater, downing half of it in a second.

When he put his mug down, he took a deep breath and looked back up at you.

"Listen, Y/N," he started.

You looked up at him, and he continued.

"I'm really sorry if I was too much for you to handle today. I mean," he took a breath to steady himself, "I was kind of rude at the start of the trip, then I suddenly went quiet, then I went ahead and did… you know… the thing with the Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans.."

"It's alright, Draco," you reassured him. "Besides, it was kind of fun to see this new side to you even just for a day."

"That's the thing, Y/N," he took your hand in his. "I... don't want this to be just for a day. I really like you, and maybe we could spend more time together… please?" He wasn't sure if it was a question or a sentence. He looked back up at you again, waiting for your answer.

You only stared at him, and his smile dropped until you exhaled lightly, then gave a warm smile.

"I'd love to! That would be great!"

"You would?" he asked. "You really positively would?"

You nodded, and he smiled wider than before as the two of you began to talk freely, laughing as the you told each other stories and talked about life besides school.

When your prefects told you it was fifteen minutes before you would return to Hogwarts, the two of you stood up and returned the mugs to the woman at the counter.

"I'm assuming it went well, Mister Malfoy," she smirked as she took the mugs from your hands. "I hope your first official date will be back here at The Three Broomsticks."

"Oh, I don't know when we'll be able to go back here," you frowned, but smiled after. "But we’ll definitely come back!"

She smiled back, then leaned in to whisper to you. "He's a nice young fellow, dear, don't let him go that easily."

You were startled, but laughed.

"I'll keep that in mind, Ma'am."

=

The two of you made your way to the carriages, and the two of you sat by the end, where you noticed two students with their faces covered by their newspapers.

Draco rolled his eyes, then said, "Alright, you can stop spying on us now."

The two put their newspapers down and laughed nervously.

“This is Pansy Parkinson and Marcus Flint,” he smiled, then shot a glare at them. “They’ve been spying on us even before we left Hogwarts.”

“We weren’t spying on you, we were just making sure the two of you had a nice day!” Pansy gasped dramatically. “Right, Marcus?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” Marcus laughed. “Anyway, would you like to join us for dinner?”

Pansy leaned forward. “We’d love to hear about your day.”

“Oh, I don’t think you would, I bet you already know all about it.” Draco joked.

The rest of the ride was spent in a jolly atmosphere, you with Draco and your newfound friends, talking and laughing, eating sweets and planning on your next trip to Hogsmeade, which you hope would be very soon.

[purplepalmdelight]

why life is still okay (rambling fic rec pt. 1)

firstly: shout out to @trulyalpha for apparently owning my entire bookmarks page on ao3 (bc i only realised all my favourite fics were written by the same person,,, yesterday. bc im really smart like that) anyway breakdown of why she’s a stoncy saving grace thanks!!!

you ease my mind, you make everything feel fine.

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/13842039)

yes this fic is from 2018. yes i read it every other week. it’s good for the SOUL. jonathan getting taken care of is always just such a good and sweet concept (maybe it’s my intense, undying love of him, but he deserves to be taken care okay) and. okay i’ll admit, sometimes i forget how fucking FUNNY this fic is, but it’s genuinely hilarious, okay? you gotta trust me on this. it makes me cackle at inappropriate times absurdly often. ("Hi." "Hi." "I want you, you fuck." is a top line. i laugh so hard every TIME.) all three of them are so incredibly in character, and somehow this NAILS the fact that they’re all massive disasters pretending to be confident. and i’m not someone that reads ~smut~ often (though it’s more mentioned than described, very non-explicit) but this didn’t make me even the least bit uncomfortable. it felt very natural and in character and made me laugh as much as the rest of the story. all in all, i always come away a little more in love with the characters, and that’s a really precious feeling.

you could be the one to make me feel something

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/14269476/chapters/32912745)

i take back everything i’ve ever claimed. this IS the funniest piece of writing i’ve ever read, and it WILL remain so, probably until the day i die. i honestly... barely have words. my expectations were high when i started it, but in retrospect, they were LEAGUES below what i got. the characterisation, the progression, the dialogue, the story; from the overarching aspects to the tiny details, it’s impeccable. i genuinely read this twice in one day, and then again the next. every single part of it is so good, but in terms of FAVOURITES... the christmas section. hilarious. down to its bones, well crafted and heart felt. it hits me right in the chest every time. the story, from the beginning, has me just as in love with nancy and steve as jonathan is, and as everything grows more intense, so does my investment. it pulls me in and doesn’t let me go until it’s good and ready to see me leave. again, the sexy aspects are so in character and natural that it’s uncomfortable or weird to read and instead just leave me grinning like an idiot. also ( “It did frustrate me, in more ways than one. It’s also a weird plan, like … did you expect me to be so overwhelmed by the power of a boner that I’d just admit my feelings?” is SUCH a funny line, i think about it literally every day. literally. every. day.) the characters are afraid to be messy, to make mistakes, and they all feel so ALIVE that when i leave the story, i feel like i’m leaving a friend. it’s honestly beautiful and honestly breathtaking. this story is better than a lot of published books, honestly, and i’m so grateful for it. so thank you.

i crash my car ‘cause i wanna get carried away!

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/17131202)

...you really wanted to make me cry, huh? i cried out of grief, yeah, out of the depth of nancy’s guilt and the pure rawness of her mourning, but i also cried out of catharsis as she came to terms, and out of laughter a few times. the bit about total eclipse of the heart as a motif was... that was so well done. i hate drawing comparisons, so please understand that this is criticism of a concept and not a particular story, but in so many stories then nancy’s grief feels... trivialised? that’s not quite the right word. romanticised, maybe. as someone who has lost a friend in the past, it’s just... it doesn’t feel realistic? and that’s okay, because it’s hard to nail something you haven’t experienced, and i wouldn’t wish the experience on anyone. it’s just that stories like this, where i can really resonate with nancy and follow the journey of her recovery WITH her are so rare. this story is a gem, it really is. i don’t love it for all the same reasons as the others, but i love it fiercely all the same.

there’s nothing magic going on, and then along came you

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/14994137)

sure, you could be the one is the funniest fic i’ll probably ever read, but nothing magic is such a close second. it’s laugh-out-loud, get-tears-in-your-eyes, fall-out-of-your-chair, and it’s also so goddamn SWEET i can hardly stand it. of the several fics i generally group together in my head (nothing magic, you could be the one + its sequels (might have to make an individual post about this series), laugh until we think we’ll die, and got nothing for you; all very similar, yet incredibly unique) nothing magic is the shortest, but that doesn’t mean it compromises on quality, oh no. it just means i can read it quicker, and therefore more often! when it’s late and i’m tired and i need a laugh to calm down before i sleep, i generally go search this fic up. remember when i mentioned the whole “being just as in love with nancy and steve as jonathan is” thing? it’s like that except... almost funnier. in you could be the one, it’s just that the story naturally tugs you into adoring these two messy, silly, sweet, amazing young adults, because how could you not? how else could you possibly feel? but here, they are genuinely just... that funny. they are actually just so funny that you as a reader click with them and find yourself grinning like an IDIOT because oh my god you’re disasters. maybe it’s the inherent relatability of a tired highschooler trying to make it through the summer and hating his job along the way, but this fic hits right in the heart every damn time.

got nothing for you other than love

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/17596658)

"You trust me," she says.

They both know it's a fact, not question, but he still says, "Of course."

and

By then, his shell wasn't something he could step out of. It was part of him. But that was okay. He didn't need more. What he had was enough.

He always did have trouble with wanting more.

and

"Hey, babe?" Nancy turns her head to look at Steve, touching his shoulder. "Can you buy me a drink?"

"Sure thing. What d'ya want?"

"Surprise me. Not like that time we were here and you snuck out the store, went to a smoothie stand, and came back with a mango smoothie."

Steve grins. "But I did surprise you."

and

"Do you have food in the backseat?"

"The sandwich has only been there for like, two weeks—"

and

"Ugh. Too much cheese. I'm lactose-intolerant, remember?"

"False, you're not intolerant of anyone except people over the age of fifteen with bowl cuts and guys who wear shorts in the winter."

and

"Where are you off to? I'm your only friend," Kali says, frowning.

and

"You good, man?"

"Yeah," he says, his throat dry, "I'm great."

"Yeah, you are," Nancy says, and he is. He is.

and i can’t continue because that’s, like, barely halfway into the fic and i’ve already skipped so many of my favourite lines and i would have to skip so many more. you see what i mean about sathana being funny as hell? and like all the others, it’s not just the humour here. i mean... it is, because it’s SO FUCKING FUNNY I LITERALLY CANNOT SAY THAT ENOUGH but the reason it’s so funny is because it’s so candid. it’s so smooth. the whole thing flows. you’re not left feeling that you’ve missed a piece or that anything was sacrificed; you just feel like you’ve read something incredible. this fic is an experience of its own that i honestly have never experienced before. it’s sweet, and it’s gentle, and it’s just so overwhelmingly good that i don’t think i’ll ever quite get over it. in short? it’s a blessing. my expectations were high, but holy fuck did you blow them to bits.

one more favourite line:

Things are ending, things are starting, and everything looks bright. It won't always be that way. The sun's got to set at some point. But, gazing up at the sky, at the pink bleeding into orange, Jonathan figures it'll have to rise again. No matter what happens, these two things are constant.

"Hey, you look awfully lonely," Nancy calls out, walking towards him, reaching out to him with the hand not in Steve's.

Well. Maybe not just those two things.

that scene, in general, is beautiful, and it wraps the story up on such a genuine note. it feels like a film with how clearly i can picture it. it feels like no fic i’ve ever really read before. it feels... good. i guess i don’t really have the words. it just feels so good.

as an overall statement on why i call her my favourite author... it’s the realism. maybe that’s surprising, considering how many times i said “funny” or “hilarious” in here, but in the end, i wouldn’t be so attached to her work if it didn’t feel so real. i can open a tab and instantly get transported to a home i’ve never lived in. it’s comfortable. it’s sweet. and the dialogue/banter is always perfectly crafted. there’s just never really a downside to her fics, honestly. even if i wanted to search, i don’t think i’d find one. not even one of those “their only problem is that there’s not more to enjoy” kind of comments, because every single one feels perfectly crafted in its own right. it doesn’t need more or less. it stands for itself and it’s goddamn good at it.

i didn’t anticipate having to do multiple parts on this post, but- surprise surprise- i haven’t even gotten to my favourite one yet! so yeah, pt. 2 will be written after i finish the history essay trying to murder me, god knows when that is. in the meantime, please go give her some love and adoration. she deserves it.

[pillowfluffs]

Study Buddy!Renjun

Pairing: Renjun X Reader (gender neutral)

Genre: high school fluff

Summary: Renjun brings you a sweet snack before he comes over to study with you! 

Author’s Note: I should’ve had Y/N and Renjun study chemistry together since they got it in this story uwu 

“Electron transfer from NADH to oxygen is an exergonic reaction with a free-energy change of —53 kcal/mol. Instead...” You could barely keep your eyes open and you could feel the energy draining out of your body as you pushed through. Honestly, you didn’t care about electrons and how they move, chain to chain, but you were sat in an uncomfortable chair in your room, hunched over your desk writing out pages of notes for an upcoming test. You huffed out air, looking back and wondered why you thought AP biology as a freshman was a good idea, especially when everyone else was wise enough to steer clear, unless they chose to go down the STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics) path in the future. 

Your eyes felt like they were about to fall out of your head if you continued to fill it more with information about cells and their respiration and fermentation. This was not at all at how you wished to spend your Friday afternoon, alas, you were only a few textbook pages to finishing the second-to-last chapter. You rolled back from your desk, letting your entire body just collapse into relaxation. Your arms dangled and your head just hung from the back of the chair. 

Fortunately, you weren’t left to suffer alone. Renjun took the class too and it didn’t seem like he was suffering as much as you were. If anything, he was on top of the work, somehow, always ahead, which made him seem even more inhuman. All your friends had dodged the bullet of AP bio and even tried to warn you of the work loads, but you had brushed them all away. 

You took a deep breath, looking at the time. “5:23” it read. You had been sitting here for almost two whole hours since school ended and Renjun said he would come over and study with you, but you hadn’t seen nor heard from him since sixth period. sitting back up in your seat, you patted your cheeks, waking yourself up before you buried yourself back into the world of cells and biology. 

Your eyes were glued on the text, absorbing the best you could of the material. It was the final concept of the chapter you were on before you moved on to the final chapter, but it was like a giant rock blocked off whatever you were reading. Nothing made sense, no matter how many times you reread it from beginning to end, as slow as you could, word by word, but nothing. It seemed so unrelated to the topic and chapter. You finally reached your burning point and just gave up. The earbuds went in and the music played. You rolled back, sitting right in front of the window, watching the clouds float past and the sky change colors as the sun set. Your eyes began to droop as the music began to drone in your ears. It was a burning satisfaction now that your eyes were closed and you yawned, feeling the hot tears roll down your cheeks. 

“Y/N?” You were shaken awake from your seat with your music paused and your phone on the ground. You were met with Renjun who knelt before you with his backpack slung over one of his shoulders. You pulled them out of your ear, stifling another yawn. 

“Hey, what time is it?” your voice soft with sleep. 

“Almost six.” He looked at his watch. He combed his fingers through your hair, knowing how much you found comfort whenever he did it. His hands cupped your face and his thumb rubbed your cheek soothingly. 

“Where have you been?” You leaned against his touch, holding his hand in yours. 

“Well, I first went home and made some material to help you study this chapter and then I went to the grocery store to get some fruit and here I am.” 

He grabbed the platter of sliced fruits spread out in a way to make it look too pretty to eat. Strawberries and mangoes looked like flowers and kiwis accented the fruits as if they were leaves for the flowers. Tangerines and apple slices were spread all around and the center of the platter had a small bowl of grapes and blueberries. 

“Wait, but we were assigned these chapters yesterday. I barely got through three chapters today and I couldn’t even understand the end of the fourth, but you already finished? Within a sitting?” 

“Uh, I guess.” He scratched the back of his head standing up, placing the fruit platter onto a clear space on your desk. “I made flash cards and brought my notes so you could reference. I’m all yours for the rest of the night... Well, until I have to go home later.” He walked around you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your temple and cheek. “Ready?” He pulled up another chair and pulled you next to him to your desk. 

“I don’t deserve you and how you understand and keep up all of this literally blows my mind.” You rested your head on your notebook, meeting his eyes with a pout on your lips. 

“Golden hands, golden mind.” He winked at you with a smirk on his lips. “Okay, so, what do you need help with?” He reached into his backpack and pulled out his notebook, flipping through his prestigious notes. 

You leaned back on his shoulder and flipped open your textbook back to where you had stopped. “This, I don’t get the versatility of catabolism and biosynthesis,” you sighed, feeling the frustration of rereading the same words over and over again to no prevail. 

Without missing a beat, Renjun flipped to the pages in his notebook relaying his notes to you. You knew his words were from the textbook itself, but he just paraphrased them in a way that it all clicked. He fed you fruit as he explained, always asking you if you understood and if not, he would reword and rephrase. 

Before you knew it, Renjun walked you through the entire five chapters, taught you with his flash cards along the way, and constantly fed you fruit until the plate was empty and your mind and stomach fuller. Crickets sung into the night as fireflies competed with the stars in the night sky for which captured the most beauty during the late hours. 

“Get it?” He brushed away the eraser shavings from your notebook. “It’s a tough concept and to me honest, it took me awhile to pick it up.” He scratched the back of his head, hoping you weren’t as confused as he was when he first read it. 

“I think so...” You stared at his notes, relaying his words in your mind. “Ugh, this is all so much, I shouldn’t have taken this class,” you groaned leaning back in your seat. 

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up so much. Plus, this is only the beginning. We haven’t taken a science class with a sudden demand of workload like this before, so cut yourself some slack.” He took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “Plus, think about it. Everything we learned within this one assignment. So many things are going on within our bodies and all around us in all different shapes and sizes. There’s so much to learn and we only have a single lifetime. Just like our universe, there’s so many stars and endless possibilities out there. It could be all right next to us and we wouldn’t even know-“ he caught his own words when he saw the look in your eyes and the small smile on your lips. “Sorry, I’m rambling.” His eyes fell to his hands playing with yours, hiding the shy smile on his face, hoping you didn’t see the flush on his face. 

“No, it’s fine. I love it when you ramble. You make life and the world and everything else sound so interesting and just, otherworldly. Plus.” You leaned closer to his face, seeing his eyes cast from yours to your lips just a few mere inches away. “Your eyes light up brighter than all the stars and fireflies when you do.” You smile pressing a chaste kiss against his lips making his hand tighten around yours, never wanting to let you go, never wanting this night to end. “And I hope you never lose that light.”

“When I’m with you, I could never.” 

~~~~~ Masterlist for more! Thank you for reading!

Draft made: August 30, 2019 at 9:36pm EST Final Draft made: September 8, 2019 at 6:48pm EST Posted: October 6, 2019 at 4:00pm EST

[mossdeemo]

6 Dad’s — Chapter 1

Buckle up, kiddos

Ship: Roman x Deceit x Emile x Remus x Thomas x Remy (yeah try and think of a ship name for that)

This chapter specifically is mostly Demile, Roceit, and whatever Emile x Remus’ ship name is, but is Deceit x Emile x Roman x Remus

Characters: The sides, Thomas, Emile, Remy, and Dice.

This chapter specifically has Deceit, Emile, Virgil, Roman, and Remus.

Plot: 6 dads and their 4 kids are cute and get into shenanigans. The 6 of them all meet and get into a poly relationship, and fun 👌 and drama ☕️ insue.

This is really fun to write, and @pricklyfish777 and I had so much fun planning it XD

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Virge Raspberry stumbled down the stairs of her home, eyes half shut. She wrapped her arms around herself as he reached the cool, wooden floor, following the smell of pancakes in the air.

Her fathers stood in the kitchen. Emile was the one cooking, standing in front of the stove and humming the “Bacon Pancakes” song from Adventure Time. Dee was pouring three mugs of coffee, and was the one to turn his head when Virge entered the room.

Dee leaned against the counter, reaching out and offering Virge her mug. She drifted over, shutting her eyes as she took a slow sip of her bean juice.

“Good morning, my little vampire queen!” Emile grinned, walking over to Virge and kissing her on the head.

Virge looked up at him as he grabbed a few plates from the cupboard, rubbing her eyes. “Hey, my, uh… yeah you’re better at the nicknames than I am.”

Emile laughed, putting everyone’s plates together. “Well, that’s okay, bubblegum.”

Virge smiled, taking her usually seat at the kitchen table. “Lemme guess, you rewatched Adventure Time recently?”

“Dee and I watched a few episodes last night! I have some patients I have to visit at the hospital that I think could really relate to… oh, well, never mind that! Breakfast is ready!” Emile chuckled, setting a plate of pancakes and fruit down in from of Virge.

The three of them sat down at the small wooden table, and all started eating. They both thanked Emile, and he just giggled and waved a hand.

Dee took a slow sip of his drink. “I start rehearsals today, so I probably won’t be home until tonight. You’ll be home before 3, Emile?”

Emile nodded a few times, pancake stuffed in his mouth. He gave a thumbs up.

Dee nodded, adjusting the collar on his button-up. He finished first, setting his dishes in the sink and glancing at the clock. He put his hand on Emile’s shoulders from behind, kissing the top of his head.

“I’ll see you both tonight. I love you.” He moved over to Virge, pecking her on the cheek quickly before heading out of the kitchen. They both called “I love you’s” back to their father/husband, and watched as he left the house.

Emile and Virge finished eating, grabbed their bags, and then headed out to Emile’s car. He glanced over at her as he drove.

“You have your school bag? And your lunch? And your phone?” Emile asked, reaching over and pushing the bangs out of Virge’s eyes.

“Yeah, dad.” She chuckled, looking down at her legs. “I’m good. It’s not like this is my first day.”

“I know that, silly.” Emile slowed down, stopping near the school. “Just making sure. Have a good day, love.”

“You too, dad.” Virgil nodded, getting out of the car.

Emile gave his daughter one last little wave before driving away.

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Dee stood in the rather small theatre. He stared at the script in his hands, squinting as he read it over. Emile always told him he should get glasses, but they would just look ridiculous on him.

Dee has gotten one of the leading roles in this show, and he intended to do well. To do amazing, actually. He was a professional, and nothing could possibly distract him from his work.

Except for handsome theatre nerds, apparently.

Roman Mango, who was going to be playing his love interest, was a massive flirt. And he was gorgeous.

Dee hadn’t met him before, but had seen him around quite a bit. He had been to a few shows Roman had been in, even. He was a very good actor. But now, seeing him up close like this… wow.

Roman had approached Dee, a grin on his face. He seemed a bit tired, and his flowing hair was pinned back in a messy bun. Roman introduced himself, made a comment about them both having fruits as surnames, and then took Dee by the arms and lead him away to talk to the other members of the cast together.

The two of them got along fairly well, which was definitely a relief. They would be working together a lot for the next few months.

Dee and Roman stayed together for the day. They still did their jobs, and didn’t cause any trouble, they weren’t children. But the tension between them from the not-so-subtle flirting and touching was a little intense for the other cast members. Dee suggested that Roman should come over sometime soon to practice their lines together.

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Emile had two appointments at the hospital; one at 10am, and the other at 12am. In the hour-ish between those two appointments, he decided to take a walk outside. To get some fresh air, and to get away from the icky hospital smell.

Emile hummed “Island Song” to himself, stepping into the grass at the side of the building, away from the parking lot. There wasn’t a lot over here; there was fence blocking him from a steep hill leaning down to the ocean on this side of the hospital, and the other two sides were blocked in by a cliff and the building itself. In this small area, there was grass, a picnic table, and a nice looking doctor sitting and smoking a cigarette.

Emile wasn’t sure that smoking that close to the building was allowed, but he decided that wasn’t a great conversation starter. He approached the man, waving a bit and adjusting his glasses.

The man was cute, in a grungy, tired older guy kinda way. He leaned against the table, looking up at Emile when he approached. He gave a lopsided grin that made Emile’s heart flutter.

Emile was invited to sit down, and started chatting up this doctor. His name was Remus Halva, and he was a neurosurgeon. Remus liked to talk. A lot. He was rambling about… basically nothing, but Emile still listened. He asked if he had any cool surgery stories, and then immediately regretted it a little. Remus seemed pretty spacey, but could apparently remember some really disgusting stories in graphic detail. It didn’t bother Emile; just caught him off guard.

“And that’s why Ms. Moreno quit last month. I offered to help her wash it all out, but..” Remus cackled, shrugging. “Anyways, so… what’s your name?”

Emile grinned, giggling and shaking his head. “Emile Picani.”

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Virge headed into the cafeteria, glancing around and heading towards her usual spot. Neither of her friends had shown up yet. She zipped open her bag, digging around for her lunch.

She frowned as she felt a presence over her shoulder, glancing up without moving her head.

“Hey Blake. What do you want?” She asked, pulling out a paper bag.

“Nothing, bro. I skipped Hawkin’s class, did I—”

“I asked you to stop calling me that.” Virge leaned forward, biting her lip. She unwrapped her sandwich, fiddling with the plastic.

Blake blinked. “What?”

“I just… I’m a girl, and I don’t really like it…” she said quietly, staring down at her sandwich.

Blake stepped back slightly. “Uh, okay, whatever you say, dude…” Virgil heard him laugh as he walked away, and felt like flipping him off. This was the fourth time today she had to correct someone on her name or her pronouns— was she really asking for so much?

Virge’s train of thought was interrupted as someone dropped a tray down on the table. Dice Vanilla flipped the seat backwards before sitting down in it, leaning forward.

Neither of them spoke, eating their food in silence. Dice had started hanging out with Virgil’s friend Talyn earlier this year, and they had kind of become friends through them. Though, Dice was kind of a dick. Talyn joined them at the table, sitting next to Dice with their partner Joan.

“You need to redye your hair, girl. It looks like crap.” Dice told her, after almost 15 minutes of silence.

Virge just snorted, tossing one of her baby carrots onto his tray. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He picked it up and took a bite of it, smiling.

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Dee didn’t arrive back home until around 6pm. He had been having so much fun at the theatre with Roman, during and after rehearsal, that he hadn’t realized time had passed.

He entered the house with a grin on his face, looking around for his beautiful husband. “Emile?”

Emile looked up from where he was sitting on the couch as Dee flopped down next to him, resting his head in his lap. Emile grinned, taking Dee’s hand and kissing it. “Have a good day, love?”

Dee hummed, shutting his eyes and stretching out. “It was wonderful. I met someone. Emile, you have to meet this beautiful man.” He laughed, turning and snuggling into his husband’s stomach.

“Really? I was gonna say the same thing to you! There’s this doctor at the hospital. He’s so lovely, Dee. You’d adore him.”

Dee grinned, shifting so that he could sit up in Emile’s lap. He kissed him, chuckling and taking out his phone. “I guess we both had a very good day. Here, let me show you him…”

Roman had insisted that Dee and Roman took a picture together for Roman’s Instagram. Dee took a moment to find it, before showing it to Emile.

Emile took the phone, squinting and adjusting his glasses. “This is the guy you met today? That’s so weird, he looks just like that doctor..”

Dee chuckled, looking at the picture of himself and Roman again. “Ah, yeah, that’s weird…”

Emile rolled his eyes, playing with Dee’s hair. “Get your head out of the clouds, Romeo. You’ll see what I mean when you meet him. They could be twins! Except mine has a really cute moustache.”

Dee gasped dramatically, getting up out of his husband’s lap. “Mine’s way cuter! I’m going to invite him over soon. How does Saturday sound?”

“Sure, love. Virge’s gonna be staying at her friend’s house on Friday night. Maybe I can invite Remus over too..”

Frowning, Dee glanced towards the stairs. “How is Virge? Did she tell you about her day at school?”

“She said it was alright, but she seemed pretty tired. I told her to go lie down for a bit…” Emile stood up next to Dee, putting a hand on his back. “We should make pasta, it’s one of her favourites..”

Dee took Emile by the hands, leading him towards the kitchen. He spun him around, planting a kiss on his forehead. “That sounds lovely, gumball.”

Emile flushed and squeaked, resting his hands on Dee’s chest and giggling. “Stop being cute and boil some water, Deedee.”

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That Saturday, Dee invited Roman over to “rehearse their lines”. They had seen each other a few more times that week, and Dee was really looking forward to this. Roman had texted Dee several times beforehand how excited he was to come over.

Roman approached the house, checking the address one last time on his phone. He had been lucky enough to get a babysitter for Patton, and didn’t want to ruin this date— he was just calling it a date, he wasn’t sure what it was— by getting himself lost.

He knocked on the door, and was relieved when it was Dee who pulled him inside, wrapping an arm around his waist. Dee shut the front door, grinning and looking down at him. Roman returned the expression, pulling away and taking a quick look around.

“Your house is so lovely, Dee. Do you live here alone..?” He asked, as he was led over to the couch.

Dee paused for a moment, then shook his head. “No, of course not. I told you about my kid, didn’t I? One moment love, I made some tea.” Dee winked, heading over to there kitchen.

Roman nodded at him, sitting down on the couch. “Yes, right! You did.” He spotted a framed photo on the coffee table, reaching over and picking it up. It was of Dee, what he assumed was his daughter, and another man he didn’t recognize. “Is this her? She’s very pretty..” he said softly, setting the photo back down.

Looking around the room, there were a lot of family photos. Dee, Virge, and this other man. Roman stopped to think for a moment. Did Dee wear a wedding ring? Maybe he should leave.

But Dee came back with their tea, sitting down next to Roman as they began chatting. Roman kept getting distracted. Dee was wearing what was certainly a wedding ring, and Roman knew that he should go, but didn’t.

Small talk and sipping tea very quickly turned into heavy making out, with Dee sitting on top of him. Did Roman feel guilty? A little, but he was starting to forget about that. At least, until he heard noises outside.

Roman put his hands on Dee’s chest, breaking their kiss. “Dee, I think someone’s…”

Dee turned to the window, where he could see a car in his driveway. “Oh. That’s just my husband.”

If Roman wasn’t currently pinned to the couch by Dee’s body, he would be scrambling out of the window right now. “Your what?—”

The front door opened, and two men stepped into the house. Roman couldn’t see them well, with Dee blocking most of the door, but the one he could see better was definitely Dee’s husband.

Emile and Remus entered the house after their date, Emile humming to himself and holding his date’s hand. They had gone out to eat and went for a walk together, but it was getting chilly, and Emile’s flirty length skirt was not enough to keep him warm. So, they decided to come back home.

Emile has completely forgotten that Dee and his friend would be here. When he entered the house and saw them, he started giggling, politely glancing away. “Oh, I’m sorry! Am I interrupting, love?

Dee started laughing, turning a bit to face Emile. “Of course not, darling. How was your date?”

“We had a lot of fun!” Emile glanced at Remus, who was staring at Dee and Roman with his eyebrows raised. “You wanna maybe take a break and come say hi? I’d love to meet Roman…” Emile smiled, tilting his head to get a better look at Roman.

Dee smirked at Roman, winking before climbing off of him. He offered the smaller man a hand, pulling him to his feet.

Roman and Remus locked eyes, Roman giving him a “what the fuck is going on” face. Remus just shrugged, then frowned, as he got a better look at this man.

“This is Remus, the surgeon I was telling you about, Dee! I told you he looked just like Roman.”

That was true. The two of them looked really similar. Besides from some facial differences, their difference in height, and their hairstyles— they could probably be twins.

Remus looked Roman up and down, a hand on his hip. “Oh, I’ve definitely fantasized about this.”

Roman’s eyes widened, and he felt his face heating up. He sputtered for a moment, taking a small step back. “Why— I— who are you?”

“Remus Halva. It’s nice to meet you, beautiful.” He winked, reaching out and taking Roman’s hand. He bowed dramatically and kissed the back of it.

Roman pulled his hand back, smiling and biting his lip.

Emile and Dee looked at each other, both smirking. Emile stepped forward, taking Roman by the arm and leading him back over to the couch. “Cmon, I’m super chilly! We should cuddle and watch Tangled!”

That got Roman’s attention. He grinned and allows himself to be dragged away by Emile. Dee and Remus looked each other over, decided that they would definitely like to cuddle, and followed them over to the couch.

[pcytons]

i got distracted but i made it!! & thats the story of my life. im ali, im stuck over here in pst, i use she/her pronouns and the love of my life is a 4 year old pitbull. my hobbies include spending too much $ on concerts and listening to the same songs over and over again all day,i used to have a job but thanks to corona, i dont. and just like a mega disclaimer before i continue to speak: i’m a lil rp rusty, it’s been a minute since i was on a tumblr dash so if i do things like soooo 2016 just yell at me, please. im ready for it. and i also made a mess of my page and completely rambled but give it time, you’ll come to learn that’s just my MO! anyways im not anxious about this at all!!! i am so so excited to write and plot with all of you and make the village the best fake tv show netflix never made!!!!

and to the important things, time to learn about payton, she’s great but im biased. pls love us

( zoey deutch, female, she/her, MUSE G ) — oh my god, i totally just saw PAYTON JAMES HARLOW walking through greenwich village! you know, she plays HARPER HAYES on that new netflix show, the village? i can’t believe they’re already famous at TWENTY-FOUR. i’ve watched all of their interviews, and they totally come off as IMPETUOUS and RETICENT, but they can also be PASSIONATE and LION-HEARTED. based on their social media, i’d describe PAYTON like (laughing in the rain, caramel iced coffee, pasta pasta pasta, mango white claws and midnight blunts) — totally makes sense that people call them THE HALCYON.

to be short, acting is payton’s life. it’s because of the way she was raised and the influence her father had on her, it’s all she’s ever known. so below is a short family background for her, im gonna link the longer version if ur bored. all the links are below the bullets and the most important one will be the first one, that’s got her main personality in it, i was gonna copy & paste but its easier on the blog! i hope. 

(tw in 1st&2nd paragraph, suicide & addiction )

her father was an uber famous method actor, primarily in the 2000s (think like christian bale when the dark knight was coming out but like…ironically more private and a little odd and like triple the dedication to method acting) due to likely psychosis and drug abuse, he took his own life a few months before payton turned 13.

her mother was a previous sitcom co-star of her fathers in his early years, they got married young and due to her fathers lack of normal emotion and the fact that he was never around, she took the housewife life for what is was and spends her days nursing a pill popping addiction.

payton & her 2 older brothers were homeschooled growing up bc her dad wanted the family kept as private as possible and basically hated hollywood for the fame side and was only interested in acting as an art. the kids each had a private tutor and private acting coach and would split the day between regular school & film/acting study.

the only time she saw her father as a kid was when he was home and in character preparing for a new role, its a big reason he made sure his kids were well versed in acting bc they could help him fall into character by interacting with him around the house. payton has a super warped sense of family bc of all this, she never actually knew her dad for like who he was and the almost aggressive way she was raised around film made her the dedicated actress she is today.

after her father died, in attempt to distance themselves from the media's sudden interest in them, payton & her brothers each took their middle name as their last name and started real school. payton went to harvard-westlake in la and later attended cal institute of arts. she basically fell in love with acting when she was a lil peanut and the desire to succeed in the most completive industry like ever became her only goal.

payton in a nutshell. extended family background. full character bio. quick stats.

wanted connections. filmography. all about harper.