#more like i am half of october not in so i am not too sure how much i can draw in advance haha

[lylianrae]

A list of all the things I have manifested ⋆˚⟡˖ ࣪

We manifest everything in our lives btw - the good and the bad which is why I will be including both to prove that the law does not discriminate. If you can successfully become poor, you can most definately become rich with the same ease because everything is just a state.

Long hair

AHH this is one of my favourite manifestations. Ever since I was young I had a weird bob with a fringe (often crooked) and I wanted long hair like all the other girls (lmaoo) but my mum was strict so she didn't let me grow it out. Although I didn't know about manifestation back then, every new year and birthday I would wish for long hair and I would pretend I was a princess with butt long hair. Guess what, somewhere along the line, my mum let me grow it out and now I have butt length hair (don't really know what to do with it tho </3).

As all kids do, I went through an emo phase where I chopped off like half of my hair like 4 years ago. I literally grew back 7-8" of hair within a month because my parents got too mad. I knew about manifestation here so I just assumed my hair always grows unaturally fast. Same with when I cut bangs, they grew past my chin within a couple of weeks.

Manifesting my way into a private school

Honestly this just shows that you dont need 2430430 hours of working on your self concept to manifest. Literally so many celebs, including Marylin Monroe (the queen), manifested their fame with awful self concept. Likewise, here I was possibly going through the worst time of my life back then. I would wake up at 8 am and start studying and end at 11 pm despite being only 10 at the time. I was so freaking stressed and envious of all the other children and went into a depressive spiral where my two options were pass or die. I didn't even have enough practice and I cried my self to sleep on most nights. Anyways, when i did the exam I was deathly calm and even after the exam I was apparently so chill so my parents thought I failed.

I literally left 9 questions on one paper but throughout the summer, everytime I found a dandelion I would make a wish and imagine digging a tunnel to the examiners room where I secretly change my answers into the right ones (lmfao my tiny 10 yr old brain - idek how it worked). Anyways my results were sent back to me a month later on a random October evening and I got a really high mark. Even after 7 years of going to this school I havn't met anyone who has gotten a mark higher than mine.

Curly hair / straight hair

Sigh. We always want things we don't have. When I was younger I had really straight hair like 1A asian hair but when I was like 10, I really wanted curly hair and I would try to curl it often. After a few months, I manifested a curling iron and my hair literally became naturally curly like right after a wash it would curly af when before it was dead straight. Naturally I grew bored of it and I wanted my straight hair back and for ages I began overcomplicating the law and struggled to manifest it. It was only recently when I actually let go of the 3D that I manifested the silky, shiny straight hair.

Social life?

This is also a funny one, just shows how easily you can manifest. So back in 2021 after lockdown I felt so lonely and felt so left out of my friendship group so after a few months I began stressing myself out and spiraling for like 30 minutes, sobbing to myself about how I was so lonely and how nobody loved me (💀). Anyways it became reality, I found myself uncomfortable in many social situations and found myself becoming forgotten far more easily. I don't really remember the details but it was so bad that I think I accidently manifested social anxiety (oh well we still up tho).

However I am a loa girly so I found myself listening to popularity subliminals and slowly (but surely) my mindset change from having no friends to being the most popular girl in the year. Like no joke I became friends with like 3 people from different social circles so at lunchtime we had to join up like 3 different tables so we can all sit together. Overall I got myself 20+ close friends and even my ex friends began to admire me although it had ended badly. Even now, when someone says something thats untrue - for example saying that they are dumb when they are not, they would be like "ahaha so its like when Rae (me) says she has no friends, the whole school knows who Rae is".

Clear skin

This was sort of in the beginning of my loa (law of attraction back then) journey, I just randomly found out what subliminals were and was still quite new to everything. Now I don't even understand how it happened but I had busted some capillaries under my skin and it looked like small red viens under my skin and bro I was freaking out at the time. One night I was like just, I had enough, I'm going to get myself better skin and so I listened to a sub once for 3-4 days and on like the 4th day, my cheeks began to heat up which was odd and the next day it was 90% gone. Just like magikkkk.

Desired university?

Guys. Feeling is the secret. Don't you ever forgot that - not feeling as in emotions but rather the feeling of knowing. I had 2 entrance exams to do to apply for my universities and it was a stressful time where I wasn't getting enough sleep and wasn't eating enough simply because I didn't have the time. Like I come home from school and would have 3-4 hours of homework, then I need to revise for tests and then the remaining time would be spent on the entrance exams. Each past paper took 2 hours and I have around 13s per questions and I was already struggling on time. Anyways, I began to hate them and I would often complain to my mum saying things like "My score got even lower!!" or "I hate it so much" or "My head hurts / eyes hurt".

Guess what? Not only did I see my score decrease over time but I also made such a silly mistake on the most important entrance exam which I needed for 4/5 of my universities. I left a question and completely forgot to mark on the answer so when I finished the section I realised I had one more space on the sheet with like 10s to spare. I didn't have enough time to go back and fix it and lemme say that I did so badly in the test. Even while waiting for results I was just like "ah it would be a miracle if I scored above this bla bla".

I got the score back and it was so freaking bad like I did not stand a chance at my university at all. However, I started to affirm for a place and to my utter shock and surprise my desired university reached out and offered me an interview. I knew people who had like scores which were 50% better than mine and they still got rejected pre-interview. Anyways I began stressing about the interview and the results of the whole thing and boom. I got rejected 3 days after my birthday lmaoo. But its okay because I'm reapplying and I learnt so much more. I'm redoing the entrance exam and my score is a loooot better than it ever was last year.

A key take away would be thoughts are the result of the state you are in. Your dwelling state manifests and I was focusing on the unrealness and the difficultly of getting into this uni and thats what manifested. At the time I was heartbroken and literally went through the 7 stages of grief and spent so many months trying to revise it only for me to focus on the 3D. Just know that everything is done in imagination and it appears in the 3D as a result.

Photographic memory

So this is also something I had manifested before I actually knew about loa but the takeaway here is that manifestation is always instant. I was around 11 reading a random book on my tiny kindle and the book was on how to develop a good memory and I was like ah that'll be useful. Anyways later in the car, I asked my dad about photographic memory and he sort of explained it to me. I just assumed that I have that and I told him I do. He just laughed at me and said thats something that you have to train for and I was not impressed lmao. Inside my tiny brain, I was just like nope, I already have photographic memory and I dropped that thought. Let me tell you, my memory is actually photographic and has helped me out on so many occasions like my brain just takes pictures of things.

Learning fast

This is also something I did before I knew loa, I was just always wondering why the other kids couldn't grasp concepts as easily as I did. Literally in every lesson I would be like ah I learn so fast and now I am actually blessed with the ability to grasp complex subjects so fast. A favourite example of mine would be when I was obsessed with music but to take it to a higher level you need to be able to play an instrument. I couldn't at the time and my teacher told me the requirements a week before the actual deadline. I have never actually played piano with both hands but one day I sat down and worked through the entire song (fur elise by Beethoven) which is a grade 5 (I think) and it normally takes people months / weeks to learn. I learnt the whole thing in 3 days and from then on, I could play piano like I had been doing for ages. Again the memory thing was so helpful because I never actually used any sheet music, I learnt it off a youtube video and I remembered every single note I needed to play.

Hourglass body + 22" waist

This was a couple of years ago when I actually didn't understand loa. Anyways long story short, I would do a 3 minute workout and then flex infront of the mirror all day (💀) and be like omg I have abs. Overtime, I actually got so skinny everyone around me kept pointing it out to me and my mum got so concerned that she took me to the doctor like 4 times. It was so funny, I would loose like 2-3kg overnight and my parents would have to buy better fitting uniform.

Bigger boobs

This was also back in the day (2021?) when I didn't understand how to manifest things easily af. I had an A cup but I wanted better boobies and I listened to like 2 subs for a week and I went to a B cup. But I just assumed I have a bigger cup size recently and I just skipped C and went to D+ (haven't measured in a long time).

I'm not done but I'm tired now bye bye

[jamminvroomvroom]

everything.

ln x fem!reader

in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more

hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!

songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst

6.4k words

“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.

your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.

“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.

you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.

friends. that’s what you were.

you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.

his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.

you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.

eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.

and just like that, a connection was born.

you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.

and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.

“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.

lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.

“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.

friends.

that’s what you were.

-

you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.

on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.

he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.

the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.

you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.

“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.

you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.

“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.

you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.

“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.

“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”

“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.

-

the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.

a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.

you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.

“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.

“i’m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.

“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.

you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.

you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.

“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.

you coughed awkwardly.

“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.

“i am now, could fall asleep here.”

“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.

“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.

“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.

“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.

“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.

“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.

“then stay.”

you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.

what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.

lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.

“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.

“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.

“you’ve never…”

“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”

“like what?”

“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.

“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”

“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.

you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.

“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”

you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.

“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.

he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.

“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”

“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?

“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”

“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.

“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.

you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.

“you needed me.”

“exactly. i needed you. you.”

he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.

“lando-“

“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“

“lando!”

“what?”

“kiss me.”

and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.

you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.

he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.

“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.

you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.

lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.

he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.

“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.

“no.”

“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.

“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.

“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.

“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.

“says who?”

“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”

“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”

“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.

“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”

“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”

“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”

“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”

“i want you, lando.”

and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.

“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.

“please. yes.” you said shakily.

he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.

“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.

“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.

his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.

lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.

“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.

“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.

and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.

“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.

“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.

you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.

“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”

“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.

lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.

“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.

lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.

“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.

his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.

everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.

“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.

one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.

when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.

“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.

you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.

“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.

you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.

“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.

“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.

you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.

“are you ready for me?” he whispered.

“yes.”

the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.

“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.

“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”

“we gotta go easy.”

“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.

“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.

lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.

“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”

you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.

“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.

lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.

“can you look at me?”

your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.

“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.

“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”

he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.

“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.

his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.

“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.

“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.

-

you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.

lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.

“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.

“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”

baby.

you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.

“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.

“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.

“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.

lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.

“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”

you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.

“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.

“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.

your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.

-

the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.

you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.

you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.

the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.

your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.

see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.

-

the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.

you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.

“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.

“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”

“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.

“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.

“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.

you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.

you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.

“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.

your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.

eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.

lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.

“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?

eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.

he was looking for you.

lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.

the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.

“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.

nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.

“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.

tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.

then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.

-

hehe the end

-

taglist

had to remove some tags that aren’t working! let me know if you wanna be added or removed xo

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @turningxstrange @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @yeolsbubbles @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @organasith @micks-afterglow @blueflorals @juno-1610 @lqvesoph @wilmasvensson @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @h0e-xoxo @mattxxamryli @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3

[captain-bubble-wrap]

As the Canucks' newest rinkside reporter, you're preparing yourself for your first day on the job but things don't exactly start out the easiest. From calling in a favor from your father to interviewing the team's captain, it's bound to be a memorable night.

CW: none

9 October 2024 | Season Opener

Tonight marked the start of the Canucks' 2024-25 season and your introduction to the team's organization and fanbase. This was the biggest day of your career and you couldn't be any more nervous. You had done your makeup twice before leaving your apartment, changed your clothes half a dozen times, and frantically checked your hair in every mirror at least once. You had finally been given the chance to get your feet wet in professional broadcasting and you prayed you didn't fall on your face.

You knew any expectation of your abilities were going to be high just because of the fact that your father was the head coach of the team. Aware that there would be those whispers of favoritism and unfair handouts, you had tried to prepare yourself for such rumors and just wanted to let your work speak for itself. You were a Canucks' Top Prospect graduate and last year, you had reported rinkside for the Abbotsford Canucks as an intern, following college graduation, and it had been a wonderful opportunity. Now, you would find yourself among seasoned veterans and hoped not to feel like a child with numerous babysitters.

You had arrived at the arena around the same time as some of the players, just because if you didn't, you knew you would have found reason to pick another outfit or redo your eyeliner for the third time. Your heels clicked with an echo through the parking garage, your hair swished back and forth in the high ponytail atop your head with each step. You were confident, sure, but beneath that polished exterior was equally as much anxiety and panic.

"Badge?" Demanded the security guard from his post, not familiar with the new face standing before him. You produced the lanyard that was intertwined with your keys from your purse. Once it was in his possession he checked it against a series of papers. Nervousness began to set in within your chest when he didn't give it back quickly. The way he looked at you was like a bouncer checking a fake ID outside a club.

"I don't have you on the list," he replied sharply, handing back your fresh credentials. "No one with your name in Media."

"But I'm reporting tonight," you reassured, eyebrows pulled in from worry. "I was hired back in June."

The older gentleman, portly and with deep lines etched into his face scowled, "I can't let you in. You better call who ever it was who 'hired' you, because I'm not letting in anyone just because they claim to be Rick Tocchet's daughter. Nice try."

"I can show you my driver's licen--."

"Still no one with that name on the list. Now, step aside."

Absolutely taken aback by the rudeness and unbelievable news, you turned back towards where you had walked from and briefly saw two men, dressed in nice suits pass by you. Digging around the interior of your purse for your phone you'd hear the security guard call them by their first names.

"Connor. Quinn. Have a good game tonight, boys," he said to them, far more chipper than he had been with you just moments ago. You knew both players, hell, you knew all of the names on the Canucks' roster. That had been Connor Garland and Quinn Hughes who had breezed past. Too bad they couldn't vouch for you, now you were tasked with calling in a very poorly-time favour.

"Hey princess," said the voice on the other end of the phone once the call was finally picked up. "You alright?"

"No, dad, I'm not," you said, your voice low so to not let anyone overhear your conversation. "Security won't let me in, says I'm not on some media list. Not to mention he thinks I'm lying about who I am."

Your father sighed deeply. He was the last person you wanted to call and whine about someone being mean to you, especially hours before the first puck would drop. You had a job to do, and who better to pull some strings than him? However, it was the timing that was unfortunate.

"What gate are you at?" He asked, the frustration evident in his tone.

"I don't know. I'm at the players entrance or something. Connor and Quinn just went past me."

"Alright. Let me make a call. Sit tight."

"Thanks, dad."

He mumbled a "mhm" before the call dropped, leaving you loitering, hoping the guard didn't threaten to escort you off the grounds for being unauthorized personnel. What a way to start the night, the season, and your career. It wouldn't take long however before the ringing of a phone would echo throughout the garage. It had come from the security booth and you hoped it was someone calling on your behalf. Unable to stifle your curiosity, you looked towards the direction of the booth to see the man looking at you, nodding while he said nothing. He'd motion you over with a wave of his hand and you'd waste no time seeing what it was about.

"Apparently, your name wasn't added to the active media correspondents," he said flatly, hardly that of an apology. "You can go on in."

"Thank you," you sighed, making short work of the remainder of garage that opened up into the bowels of Rogers Arena. Finally, you were where you needed to be and it was already a mad house. Equipment managers were transporting rolling carts of towels and all manner of various odds and ends through the hallways and around tight corners. You had general directions of the media hub and you were thankful you had gotten there so early, because finding that specific room was like a treasure hunt. After probably twenty minutes of navigating the behind the scenes world of the arena, you arrived at the door.

"Oh, you must be Y|N Tocchet! So good to meet you! We're glad you made it," remarked Senior Writer Chris Faber, who was going over his notes when you came in. "We heard you'd be joining the team. Welcome."

"Thank you so much, I'm eager to get started!"

"We love the eagerness," he added, always happy to have young talent involved in the sport and pioneering for younger generations to follow. "Heard you made quite the name for yourself in Abbotsford last season."

"I loved it there! It was fun watching to see who had the hints of being a big talent develop down there. It was always loud," you smiled with a nod.

"I think you'll fit right in with us here. No doubt your father is proud," Chris said, with the smile himself.

"You'd have thought I had been drafted first overall!" You remarked, remembering how he had boasted when you got the call from upper management about the reporter position being given to you. "I have a high bar to strive for. Can't make him look bad, you know?"

Chris chuckled, reassuring you that you'd have no trouble transitioning into Vancouver's content team. "I'm sure you'll make him proud. Now, you have any questions for me?"

"Actually, I do. What is my schedule for tonight?"

"You're going to interview Quinn during warmups, get his opinion and insight on how the team preformed through the pre-season and his outlook and expectations for this season. Think you can handle that?"

"Absolutely," you beamed, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. It was actually happening; you had made it.

- - -

Warmups began to an overwhelming response around the arena. You walked down the tunnel following the team and were instructed to stand at the end of the bench. Quinn had already been told you meet you along the boards following a few hot laps. Watching the players at ice level really hit home that tonight was real. Nothing could beat the opening day of a hockey season. The energy was electrifying: from the fans screaming at the top of their lungs, player's fresh reactions to playing again, and shouted messages coming from the coaches. Opening night was just another beast entirely, and it marked the official start to the season and fans were eager to begin that grind and see their team back in the playoffs.

"Good luck, sweetheart," your dad would say as you passed in front of him and the other assistant coaches, a gentle smile across his lips. You'd give him a wink before getting to where you needed to be.

Your eyes zeroed in on Quinn's number forty-three as he practically floated across the ice, edges sharp and skating so fluidly. You had watched him since his debut with the team, and he was seriously one of the most beautiful skaters in the game right now. Your cameraman went over the key points of your short interview and you would give a quick nod in agreeance.

"You're going to do great! Don't worry!" He said to hype you up, and give you the confidence boost you needed to calm your nerves.

It didn't take long for Quinn to finally make his way over to you. He didn't do an aggressive hockey stop, not that you thought him the type to do so, instead he sort of just listed to the two of you, looking eager to already have it over and done with. You had watched numerous other girls before you have the chance to interview the star captain, and each time he just came off like he wasn't comfortable doing the interview aspect of his job. You hoped you'd make it easy on him so he could get back to warming up, and so you could get your heart back to a regular speed.

The cameraman, again, would give you a nod, checking his equipment before giving you the signal to begin your conversation with Quinn. His eyes were down, gloved hand holding his stick upright like he was at attention. It would be after you greeted him that he would finally bring his eyes to your face, actually seeing you for the first time.

"Welcome to the start of the new season, Quinn," you said brightly, smile beaming.

He swallowed hard, almost like he had forgotten how to speak, "Thank you."

"You're fresh off of winning the Norris, congratulations! Do you have a plan for trying for a back-to-back award winning season, or is that not really a concern for you? Sort of a, 'if it happens it happens' type of thing?"

"Really just focused on making sure we can win as many games as possible is the main objective, right now. We're hopeful to have a repeat trip to the playoffs first. Anything extra is just that: it's extra."

Quinn dropped his eyes from you while you spoke your next question. He seemed so disinterested and you were hoping that you weren't a bumbling idiot on camera.

"How confident are you in your team following camp and how the pre-season faired?"

"I think we put everything we have into how we practice at any given time. It's nice getting together with the guys again, and feel that brotherhood reconnect even in practice. I think we're all in a good headspace at the moment."

"Finally, what can fans expect from this year's Canucks lineup?"

"I think we're a solid group of players who bring a multitude of strengths to the ice, and we're prepared to bring that night after night all season long."

"Wonderful! Thank you so much, and good luck."

Quinn nodded at your parting words. "Thanks."

As he skated off, you faced the camera for your sign off, "Tonight marks a fresh start for this Canucks' team, and fans can believe that they're in for a strong season."

Holding your smile until given the signal that the recording had ended, you'd breath a deep sigh of relief immediately after. Your palms were slick with sweat and your heart was beating in your ears, but you had done it!

"See, I knew you had it in you! That was fantastic for your first NHL interview!" Remarked your cameraman, picking up his tripod and laying it against his shoulder. "Great job!"

"I was so nervous," you laughed.

"It didn't show! Congratulations."

You smiled, and went to follow him from the bench, but before you got too far from the boards, you heard someone calling out to you from the ice. Looking over your shoulder, you'd see Quinn skating back to you.

"Good luck on your first game," he said, a warmup puck in the palm of his glove. You'd reach for it, shocked by the kind gesture that hadn't crossed your deepest daydreams.

"Aw, thank you so much," you blushed, feeling the heat rise into your cheeks. Quinn would smirk, his eyes dropping from your face yet again before he rejoined his teammates following the end of the warmup sequence. Quickly, you'd make your exit, not wanting to linger where you didn't belong for a second time today. But passing behind your father, he'd give you a quick hug at your accomplishment.

"You're a natural," he whispered. "You did so well."

"Thanks dad!" you said, heart swelling. "Good luck tonight~"

- - -

The game had come to a heartbreaking end for home fans when the Flames had managed to score a goal in overtime. A collective sigh of defeat hung over the interior of the arena which followed everyone out with disappointment and broken spirits. Everyone had hoped for more; had hoped for a win in regulation to start the season, not a participation point for losing in OT. Regardless, a single point was better than none.

You said goodbye to your new colleagues, and started to make your way back to the parking garage. Your dad would be busy going over things with the players as well as post-game interviews, so waiting for him would be a complete waste of time. All you really had to do was head back home.

It had been an exciting day, one that had both fried your nerves and catapulted your confidence. Your interview with Quinn had turned out quite smooth and polished, when you watched the playback. You found yourself looking at Quinn the entire time, noticing him stealing looks at you that you hadn't realized before when you were interviewing him. How had you missed that? His eyes blinking up at you, those gentle nods to each of your questions, the one subtle smirk he'd let slip at you telling him good luck at the end. You had blushed watching it, like you had when he gave you the puck souvenir to mark the start of your career within the organization. You couldn't understand what was wrong with you. It had just been a puck; your father likely would have done the same thing if Quinn hadn't beaten him to it.

The question would plague your mind the entire drive home.

Even when you went to bed, your mind kept replaying Quinn smiling as he skated away from you the second time. The puck sitting on your nightstand would cause quite the dream that night.

[f1daydreamer]

All These Years

♡••••°°°°••••°°°°••••°°°°••••°°°°••••°°°°♡

SHE didn't expect the memories to come back so vividly, so suddenly. But they did. One by one. Like raindrops against glass, soft at first, then louder, unstoppable. Memories of fourteen. Of when everything started.

She had just moved to Italy that summer, the kind of move that tore you from everything familiar. New city, new school, new language. Her parents insisted it was for the best. "A fresh start," they called it. It didn't feel that way, not until the first day at the local karting track.

That’s where she met him.

He had his helmet off, hair slightly damp with sweat, fire in his eyes even at that age. He noticed her standing alone by the fence, arms crossed, unsure whether she was supposed to be there.

"You like karting?" he asked in English, his accent faint but there.

"I think I could," she answered.

He smiled then, bright and confident. "Then come on. I'll show you around."

That was the beginning.

They grew closer with every lap she took, every afternoon they spent laughing under the sun, every stupid joke she told that made him roll his eyes but secretly smile. She brought lightness to his focused world. He brought adventure into her quiet one.

He used to walk her home after training. Once, as they passed the old bookstore near the square, she asked him if he ever got nervous before races.

"Sometimes," he admitted. "But when you're there watching, it's easier."

Weeks passed. Summer became autumn, and the cold never seemed to bite when he was around. Then came the confession.

It was one of those slow, golden evenings when everything felt still. They were sitting on a low wall by the track after hours, his knee bouncing nervously.

"I think I like you," he said without looking at her.

She turned to him, heart in her throat.

"You do?"

He finally looked at her, eyes serious. "Yeah. More than just a friend."

Relief and something warmer spread through her chest. She reached out, touching his hand.

"I like you too."

They were fourteen, young and unsure, but the feeling was real.

Their first date was innocent and awkward in the sweetest way. He took her to the little gelato shop in town, even though it was the middle of October. They sat outside anyway, shivering slightly but refusing to move because it was theirs. They talked about everything and nothing. He got pistachio, she got strawberry. He offered her a bite and she wrinkled her nose. "You like that flavor?" He smirked. "You'll learn to love it."

Their first kiss happened two weeks later behind the pit garage. They had just finished a race weekend, her hands still smudged with grease from helping him with the kart. He looked at her for a long time, then leaned in. It was clumsy, a little too fast, but they laughed right after and kissed again, slower this time.

A week after that, he asked her to be his girlfriend. He didn’t do it with flowers or a big gesture. Just pulled her aside before class and said, "Would it be okay if you were mine? Officially, I mean."

She nodded, trying not to beam. "I already am."

They grew up together in quiet ways. She was always in the stands, arms folded with nerves, eyes never leaving him on the track. He’d look for her every time he crossed the finish line.

He introduced her to his family one winter evening. His mom was warm, kind, his dad a little sterner but respectful. His sister was curious and asked questions in rapid Italian, and even though she only understood half of them, she answered with a smile.

Later, when he met her family, he brought flowers for her mom and shook her dad’s hand firmly. They weren’t sure about the whole “racing boy” thing at first. But when they saw how he looked at their daughter, they softened.

Years passed. Their love matured in stolen weekends, late night video calls when he was traveling, and early morning texts before practice.

Then came the moment that changed everything.

He called her one night, breathless, as if he had just run five miles.

"I signed it."

"Signed what?"

"The contract. With Mercedes. It’s official."

She couldn’t speak. Her eyes filled instantly.

"You’re the first person I’ve told," he added softly.

Pride exploded in her chest. "Kimi, that’s... that’s incredible. I’m so proud of you."

They cried together that night. He was chasing his dream, and she was right there with him.

Eventually, they moved in together. It was a tiny flat in Bologna, barely big enough for two. But it was theirs. She would cook him breakfast when he came home late from training, and he’d fall asleep with his head on her shoulder, still in his hoodie and socks.

It wasn’t always perfect.

There were moments of frustration. Missed calls. Long trips. Silence when it hurt the most.

The worst fight happened after a long weekend away. He came home late. She had cooked, lit candles, tried to make the apartment feel warm. But he was exhausted, distracted, barely said two words before disappearing into the bedroom.

She followed him in.

"Can we talk?" she asked.

"Not now," he muttered.

"That’s the thing, Kimi. It’s never now."

He looked up, startled.

"You’ve changed," she said quietly.

"I’m working for everything we dreamed of."

"And I’m here! I’ve always been here. But lately, it feels like I’m just… waiting."

Silence stretched like a crack in glass.

"You don’t understand what it’s like," he finally said. "The pressure. The expectations. Every move I make is under a microscope."

"And you think I don’t feel that too? I’ve given up so much to support you, Kimi. I chose you."

They both stood there, words still echoing in the room.

Then, softly, he said, "Don’t leave."

"I wasn’t going to. But you need to let me in."

He crossed the space between them and pulled her into his arms.

"I’m sorry. I don’t want to shut you out. I just… I don’t always know how to handle it all."

She pressed her forehead to his. "You don’t have to do it alone."

They sat on the floor for hours that night, arms wrapped around each other like they were afraid to let go. No more pride, no more distance.

Just them.

Now, she stands by the window, watching him laugh in the kitchen as he burns toast. He's taller now, broader, sharper around the edges. But his eyes still crinkle the same when he smiles. He catches her looking and walks over, looping his arms around her waist.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself."

"What are you thinking about?"

She leans into him. "The day we met."

He smiles softly. "You were wearing that ridiculous hoodie."

"It was not ridiculous. It was oversized and cool."

"You looked like you were drowning in it."

They both laugh.

"Thank you for staying," he whispers.

"Always."

He leans in and kisses her, slow and certain.

They made it. Through years and noise and doubt.

All those memories at fourteen?

They were just the beginning.

♡••••°°°°••••°°°°••••°°°°••••°°°°••••°°°°♡

[gamblersdoll]

𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐁𝐎𝐘!

you take off yuuji’s cowboy hat, that means you have to ride him, right?

small mentions of roleplay, groping, reverse cowgirl, sexual tension.

yuuji always did like halloween as a kid, he found it pretty cool, and being the curious one he is, he always did a costume at least everyday. whether it was batman or robin, a supervillain he found cool at times, or just a character from a game, he always dressed up every day of october.

today, he was a cowboy. he felt it was like a calling or something, considering he grew up in the southern parts of japan and he also happened to grow accustomed to the south. especially since nobara was southern as well.

the difference between you both were you really only dressed up on the night of halloween, thats what you really were supposed to do. but, you indulged in his shenanigans, feeling his hands slip around your hips and his breath fanned over your head. “you from ‘round here?” he asks in the most southern accent hes ever picked up, a smile pulling at his lips.

a smile pulls at your lips, too. a smirk pulling as well and you turn your head to the side a bit. “i sure am, sir.” you say, feeling him get closer and get close in your ear. “ha’nt seen you ‘fore, either.”

he flips you around, tilting your head up and he licks his lips. “yeah, sweetheart?” he says, biting his lip when you pull his pink cowboy hat off his head and plop it onto yours. “i reckon that you musn’t do that, unless you want to ride somethin’.”

“well, i reckon that i do, mister.” you tease, his lips pressing onto yours and his hands slide down your back to your round ass and gropes the flesh, lips attacking your neck.

you moan, his hands scooping you up and having you ontop of him once he lays himself down on the bed. your hips move in circles in his lap, feeling his growing erection as he paws at your breasts. “youre makin’ me so hard..”

“yeah?” you giggle, licking his lips and pulling his cock from his confinements. your body flips around and you hover over his leaking cock. he groans, squeezing your cheeks in his hands as he lies back.

he helps you slide down, his thick, veiny cock stretching you just a tad. you both groan in the feeling of him sinking deep, your hips already knowing to sit back on him and your knees already prepared. he mumbles a ‘ you okay?’ and you nod. eyes rolling back, you circle your hips and start to lift yourself half way until you slam yourself back to his base.

“oh, damn..” he moans, a hand over his eyes and he bites his lip.

you moan, too. his cock twitching slow and feeling himself brick up even harder than usual.. “like that, baby?” you ask, the bed springs creaking just a bit. you place your hands on his chins, steadying yourself as he slightly fucks up into you.

“yeah, just like that, pretty.” he praises, a hand coming down and slapping your ass. he opens his eyes, watching your cunny pull up and how he stretches between your folds. its a sight to see, for him. his pretty baby fucking her cunt onto his cock, taking it well.

you lean forward more, your back straight and chest pressing against the bed as your hips do all of the work now. “gunna make me cum..” you whine out, his hands resting on the shelf of your ass. “so close, ‘dori…”

“yeah? me too..” he retorts, eyes rolling back for a second and his hips take over, stilling your hips so he can fuck up into you. “oh, shit, oh shit, fuck!”

“yuujiiiii!” you moan, an arm reaches back and takes his hand into yours. “thought— i was doing all the work?” you surprisingly moan out, drool soaking into the sheets and tweaking with your own nipples.

“cant help it, cant help it, oh fuuuck!” he grunts, not sure why his body was moving on its own. his cock twitches when you clamp down, his legs tensing up. “you really cummin hard, baby.”

how he knew you were about to cum before you did was beyond you. but he was right, your squealing muffled by the thick sheets he had bought for the both of you. your legs shake, his thrusts becoming more rapid and fierce as he reaches the end of the tunnel to bliss and paradise, a shout from his lips as he creams himself inside you.

translucent white and a thicker creamy white seep down his shaft, coating his heavy balls as you both recollect yourselves. his eyes snap to you, pulling you back to his chest by his hand and tossing the pink cowboy hat to the side. “you ‘kay?” he asks, holding you to his chest.

“mmhh..” you shuffle, your knee almost hitting his junk.

“watch it—“ he hisses, moving before you could potentially knee him in his balls and tip. “just relax, i gotchu.”

[thesiltverses]

Where do the ideas come from like it is so hard for me to WRITE. I have half baked ideas rattling around my head like hungry caged rats at night that run around in circles and chew on the bars but don’t really sit or finish whole stories. Some days there are more sentences than words but I don’t know when a story starts or ends, I don’t know how people do it, I think I used to but I don’t know anymore. I got less sure as I aged.

How do you KNOW.

How do you WRITE.

Please tell me I am dying. I mean I guess we all are dying all the time but I am not writing and I feel I am dying a little more dyinger.

You don't know! You'll never know! You gotta sit down and do it anyway. And when you don't do it, when you have one of those Charles Darwin October 1st 1861 days or weeks or months or years where you feel poorly and stupid and filled with self-loathing and nothing comes, you gotta at least come out of that funk with one good idea about what the problem might have been and then play about with the idea of how you might work yourself out of it, what a better writing process might look like for you. Is it about taking a nice walk in the morning or waking up early so you aren't distracted? Is it about setting tangible milestones or reading more?

You say you have no ideas, but it sounds like you definitely do have ideas, you're just struggling with story structure. A sentence is an idea in itself; ask any poet.

See if it helps to begin with an overly simple but firm story framework, a first sentence and a last sentence, and then work from one to the other. Alternatively, see if it helps to embrace structureless chaos, give yourself permission to forego beginnings and endings - try out Burroughs' cut-up technique, check out The Unfortunates by B.S. Johnson which can be rearranged chapter-by-chapter in any order. Solve by playing.

Equally, distrust confidence and that voice in your head that says you can't do it because you're too unsure of yourself. Don't separate yourself in your head from the class of people who innately 'know' how to do it; they don't, and fuck 'em if they do.

Martin Amis claimed that writers needed to have big egos because otherwise they'd doubt themselves too much and never write a word. Punch Martin Amis in the gut, then go on doubting yourself and ride the doubt onwards down the road of self-knowledge. The doubt won't help you write, but it will make you a better writer.

[mingi-s-dimples]

Scented Shadows - Wooyoung

KINKTOBER DAY 14 - REQ. BY @la-undercover-latina

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY DEAR LOVE AND READERRRRR IT'S YOUR BIRTHDAYYY HAPPY BIRTHDAYYY ^^ (on 26th october, idk if it's still 26th for you or not 😞)

~"Werewolf!Wooyoung can smell your heat coming before you know. And he doesn’t have any plans of you leaving his side during your heat."

pairing: werewolf!wooyoung x half human/half werewolf fem!reader

genre: 18+, filth, werewolf au

summary: I don't even know what to write bro.. let's just say that your boyfriend senses your heat moments before you do and well... he fucks you *senselessly*.

wc: 4.4k

warnings: pureblood werewolf!wooyoung, cocky wooyoung, he kinda teases the hell out of reader, fingering, finger-fucking, tying up her hands to the headboard, manhandling at it's finest, did I say he's cocky?, monster cock wooyoung agenda (obvi, he's a werewolf), lots of cummm, two rounds and *def* implied multiple next rounds, fucking against the wall, ass slapping & squeezing, overstim, orgasms (both m&f), slight possessiveness, at first he's really sweet and all about her first heat around him but uhm he's Wooyoung so expected the unexpected, making out, biting, marking, breast fondling, slight nipple sucking, he's so damn talkative I'm going insane, unprotected, completely consensual, unedited, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: *wooyoung brainrot* please. I went *insane* writing this. I don't even have words to explain how many *horny* breaks I had to take because it turned me the fuck on while writing? Anyways, @woolysium , you might enjoy this too ^^ you'll see it when you'll wake up 😭😭 I can't wait to see your reaction (3:24am for me, 8:24 am for her as we speak). As for you, my dear love, @la-undercover-latina , I hope you'll enjoy this lil fic for your birthday ^^. I had fun writing it, hihi 🤍 Happy birthday once again and.. enjoy !!

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

The dim glow from the TV cast flickering shadows across Woooyoung's sharp features, his warm hand resting on yours, and his other draped over the back of the couch. You felt so safe beside him, nestled in a cocoon of blankets, his heat and presence a comfort. The movie played on, though you hadn’t been paying much attention to it, stealing glances at him every few minutes. It felt like you’d finally found a moment of peace, a moment that felt untouched by the usual chaos that came with being half-werewolf, half-human. With Woooyoung, you could forget that you were anything but his.

You settled in closer, the cozy room filled with nothing but the hum of the TV and his occasional laugh or quiet, whispered comment, always managing to bring a smile to your face. It was so effortless, so natural, being around him. As much as Woooyoung had a reputation for his playful mischief, there was a seriousness, a depth in the way he cared for you that caught you off-guard sometimes. He had always been protective, a pureblood with instincts that ran deep, strong and unmistakable—yet he’d shown nothing but patience and care for your half-blood nature, never letting it matter more than the person you were. He was your haven in ways no one else could be.

But then, all of a sudden, you felt the shift. Woooyoung's hand tightened around yours, his thumb slowing as it traced gentle circles on your knuckles. His gaze, once relaxed and lazy as he watched the movie, suddenly sharpened, an intense focus clouding over his usually warm eyes. You blinked, unsure if you were imagining it, but you felt the change ripple through him—a silent charge in the air that prickled over your skin, setting your pulse racing before you even understood why.

“Woo?” you murmured, nudging his shoulder lightly, hoping to bring him back to the moment.

He turned to you, his eyes holding a glint that hadn’t been there before, something deep, primal, and entirely possessive. You felt his gaze sweep over you, an almost hungry intensity that seemed to unnerve him just as much as it did you. It was then that you realized the warmth spreading through you, a heat unfurling from somewhere deep inside, slowly overtaking your senses. It was subtle, creeping up on you like the steady build of a storm on the horizon. The realization struck hard, a mixture of shock and nerves that made your cheeks burn.

Your heat.

This was the first time it had happened around Woooyoung, and you weren’t even sure how to process it. As a half-werewolf, your cycles had always been unpredictable, never quite like those of full-blooded wolves, but now there was no denying the signs—the way your pulse quickened, your skin tingled, and every sense seemed to be dialed up to ten. It was unmistakable, and judging by Woooyoung’s expression, he had picked up on it before you even had.

“Woooyoung, it’s fine,” you said quickly, trying to keep your voice steady, though you could hear the tremor in it. “Really. I can handle this.”

But he didn’t move, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your flustered expression. “Can you?” he asked softly, his voice a rougher, deeper rumble than usual. “Because from where I’m sitting… it doesn’t seem like you should be handling this alone.”

There was no mistaking the edge in his voice, an unmistakable possession, a fierceness that seemed to run far deeper than his usual protectiveness. He was close now, his hand moving from yours to gently cup your jaw, his thumb brushing along your cheek in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. His touch was warm, grounding, but you could feel the restraint there, the careful control that kept him from holding you tighter, pulling you closer.

“Woooyoung,” you whispered, trying to keep the tension at bay. “I just… I wasn’t expecting this. I didn’t think I’d be… around you when it happened.” Your voice faltered, embarrassment coloring your cheeks.

“Don’t apologize,” he murmured, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.” He tilted your chin up, his gaze unrelenting, filled with a determination that made your heart skip a beat. “This is your first heat with me around, isn’t it?” he asked, though it was more a statement than a question. His jaw clenched, a glint of possessiveness flashing in his gaze that made your breath catch.

“Yes…” you managed, the word barely a whisper.

He nodded, a satisfied sound rumbling from him as he leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours. “I thought so. I could tell something was different tonight.” His hand slipped to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair in a way that was as much comfort as it was claim. “And you think I’d just leave you to handle this on your own?” he asked, his voice laced with a quiet intensity that sent warmth pooling through you.

“No, but…” You tried to hold onto some semblance of control, to keep things from spiraling into uncharted territory. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He let out a low chuckle, a sound so full of warmth and affection that it sent a shiver through you. “Trust me, the only thing that makes me uncomfortable is the idea of you feeling like you have to hide this from me.” His hand found yours again, and he held it tightly, his thumb brushing over your skin in soothing, grounding strokes. “You’re mine. All of you—everything you are, everything you feel. I want to be here with you, for all of it. So don’t try to push me away, especially not now.”

His words left no room for argument, each one infused with a strength that was as reassuring as it was intoxicating. The intensity in his gaze softened slightly as he watched you, his expression warm, protective, and so full of care that you felt your guard slip, the tension easing from your shoulders.

“Alright,” you breathed, giving in to the pull of his words, the comfort of his presence. “I just… I didn’t want this to change things between us.”

Woooyoung let out a quiet sigh, pulling you into his arms, his embrace warm and solid, a barrier against all your worries. “It doesn’t change anything,” he said firmly, his lips brushing your forehead. “If anything, it just means I get to be here for you in a way I haven’t before. I want to be here, *need* to be here.”

You could feel the depth of his emotions, the fierceness of his resolve, and it made something in your chest tighten, warmth spreading through you as you sank into his hold, letting him steady you.

As he held you, his hands gentle yet possessive, you realized that there was nothing to fear, nothing to hide. Woooyoung was here, steadfast and unflinching, a presence as constant as the stars outside the window. And for the first time, you felt truly safe in the knowledge that this was something you didn’t have to face alone.

---

The room felt suddenly warmer, the soft glow from the TV screen casting a low, intimate light over the two of you. Woooyoung’s hands lingered where they held you, one hand cradling your face with a tenderness that sent tingles down your spine, while his other hand traced slow, deliberate circles against the small of your back, his thumb grazing over the thin fabric of your shirt. His gaze, dark and intent, held yours, and you felt your breath catch as his eyes dipped to your lips.

“You don’t have to hold back,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, his breath fanning across your face as he leaned closer. His hand slid up to the back of your neck, fingers threading gently through your hair as he tilted your head up, his thumb stroking along your jaw in a way that left you feeling dizzy, each touch grounding you and yet sparking something electric, something that was growing impossible to ignore.

You couldn’t deny the fire that was building inside, the heat that seemed to flare each time he touched you, each time his gaze lingered on you. Your heart raced, your pulse hammering in your ears as you felt yourself leaning into him, drawn to the warmth of his skin, the steady, grounding presence of him against you.

“Woo,” you whispered, though it came out breathier than you intended, your voice thick with the intensity of your own need. You felt yourself slipping, your usual control slipping with it as his fingers trailed down your neck, pausing at the delicate line of your collarbone before slowly moving down your arm, igniting every inch of skin beneath his touch.

Woooyoung’s breath hitched as he drew closer, his face only a whisper away from yours, his gaze flickering over every detail, taking you in like he was memorizing you, savoring the moment. The possessiveness in his expression was unmistakable, mingling with the tenderness in his touch as his thumb brushed over the curve of your cheek, a small, reverent gesture that somehow left you feeling even more breathless.

“I’ve never seen you like this,” he murmured, his voice thick, a little rough around the edges, his breath warm against your skin. “But God, I can’t stand the thought of letting you go through this alone. Not when I’m right here, not when I can be here for you.”

His words sent a shiver through you, your heart racing as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing the edge of your jaw, soft and barely there, but enough to send warmth pooling in your chest, spreading through you in waves. You felt your own breath hitch, the sensation of his closeness, his warmth and touch, intoxicating in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

He pulled back just slightly, his gaze finding yours, his hand still at the back of your neck as he ran his thumb over your skin, the gesture gentle, grounding. “Tell me to stop if you want me to,” he whispered, though you could see the way his eyes darkened as he watched you, his own control beginning to slip. “But if you don’t… let me be here for you.”

Your voice caught in your throat, the words escaping you as you looked up at him, feeling the full force of his gaze. The restraint, the tension in his muscles as he held himself back, all for you, all for your sake, made something in you ache. But it was his tenderness, the care in his eyes, that undid you.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, the words barely a breath as you met his gaze, your cheeks flushed, heart pounding as you gave in to the pull between you. His eyes softened, a look of relief crossing his features before he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was soft and gentle at first, but that quickly deepened, his hand tightening at the back of your neck as he pulled you closer.

Your heat flared, the intensity of your need rising with each kiss, each gentle brush of his lips, each time his hands roamed over your skin with a reverence that left you breathless. Woooyoung’s hands moved to your waist, his touch warm, possessive as he pulled you closer, his lips never leaving yours, his breath mingling with yours as the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more fervent.

Your own hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling as you pressed yourself closer, losing yourself in the warmth of him, the steady, grounding presence that kept you anchored even as the heat within you burned brighter, hotter with each passing second. Woooyoung’s breath hitched as your hands traced over his shoulders, down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch, his pulse quickening in sync with yours.

He pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours, his hand still at the small of your back, keeping you close, his thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles that only served to make your heart race faster.

Woooyoung’s fingers grazed the hem of your shirt, hesitating just a second before he tugged it up, his eyes never leaving yours as he carefully pulled it over your head. The shirt fell away, leaving you feeling suddenly vulnerable under his gaze, his eyes taking in every detail, a mix of admiration and possession reflected in the warmth of his gaze. His hand came to rest on your shoulder, his thumb brushing over your skin in slow, soothing strokes that sent shivers down your spine, grounding you in the tenderness of his touch.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice soft, filled with a reverence that made your heart stutter. His hands moved with a deliberate gentleness as he traced along your collarbone, the warmth of his fingers making you melt under his touch, every movement sending waves of warmth through you. His hand drifted lower, coming to rest at your waist, fingers curling around you with a possessiveness that left you breathless.

Your own hands moved to his shirt, the need to feel him, to be closer, urging you forward as you tugged at the fabric, pulling it up and over his shoulders. His skin was warm, the muscles beneath tensing slightly as you traced your fingers over his chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart, the way his breath hitched under your touch. He watched you intently, a softness in his gaze as he let you explore, his hands never leaving your skin, holding you close as he soaked in every moment, every reaction.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly, his voice gentle, his thumb tracing small, grounding circles against your waist as he watched you with a concern that left you feeling safe, even as the intensity between you continued to build.

“Yes,” you breathed, the word barely audible as you met his gaze, your own cheeks flushed, heart racing as you leaned into him. There was a vulnerability in this closeness, a sense of connection that went beyond words, beyond touch, and as he held you, every ounce of doubt faded, replaced by the warmth of his presence, his tenderness.

Woooyoung’s fingers moved to the waistband of your pants, his gaze flicking back to meet yours, seeking silent permission. When you nodded, he carefully slid them down, his touch gentle and reverent, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. His breath hitched as he took in the sight of you, his gaze filled with awe and something deeper, a need that was matched by his control, his dedication to being there for you in every way you needed.

“You’re everything,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he held you, his hands resting at your waist, pulling you close, grounding you in the warmth, the safety of his embrace. The two of you sank back onto the couch, the world outside fading away as you let yourself fall into the warmth of his touch, the steady, grounding presence of him there beside you, as if he was your world, and you his.

In that moment, nothing else mattered—just you, Woooyoung, and the warmth that blossomed between you, a connection that went beyond anything you’d ever felt before.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more,” he murmured, his voice rough, his gaze meeting yours with a warmth, a tenderness that left you breathless.

You felt yourself melt into him, the warmth of his hands, the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips grounding you as he leaned in, capturing your lips once more. His kiss was tender, reverent, filled with a care and devotion that left you feeling weightless, swept up in the warmth and safety of him.

For now, nothing else mattered.

"H-haven't been like this before" your breath hitched, barely above a whisper.

"Neither did I see you like this.. but who am I to complain? How I'd love to fuck you right now until you can't walk tomorrow.." he smiled playfully, eyes wandering all over you.

Your attitude suddenly changes, feeling provoked by his words. "Hah, if you can even compete with my heat, baby".

"Jokes on you... I'm sometimes able to coordinate my heat to other werewolfs... but you weren't aware of that, were you, my love?"

You gulped.

"What do you mean..?" you muffled, barely above a whisper. Did you have any reason to be.. scared? No, he wouldn't hurt you, never. But.. his heats were *intense*.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear, his voice a low, rumbling whisper. "It means," he murmured, "that tonight, you're not getting away from me." His fingers trailed along your arm, igniting sparks that made your skin prickle. "You’re right to be nervous... but not for the reasons you think."

Your heart raced, anticipation mingling with a thrill you couldn’t deny. Every inch of you felt hyperaware of his presence, the primal energy simmering just beneath the surface. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you struggle with your composure.

"Tell me to stop," he dared, his gaze locked onto yours, a playful challenge lingering in his eyes. "Or... surrender."

His words hung in the air, a tantalizing choice dangling between the two of you, "you also clearly...need it" he peeked between your legs, arousal already dripping from your panties.

Your pulse thundered in your ears, the gravity of his challenge sinking in. The weight of his gaze held you there, pulling you deeper into the intensity of the moment. You tried to form words, but they tangled on your tongue, every coherent thought slipping through your grasp as his presence consumed your senses.

Your lips parted, a shaky breath escaping as you whispered, "I... I don’t want you to stop."

A triumphant glint sparked in his eyes, and he moved closer, his hand reaching up to gently cradle your face. His thumb brushed along your cheek, a delicate touch in stark contrast to the fire blazing behind his gaze. "Then surrender to me completely," he murmured, his voice like velvet, dark and alluring.

With a slight tilt of his head, he pressed his lips to yours, slow and intoxicating. The kiss was a promise, a claim, leaving you breathless and wanting more. You melted against him, feeling the strength and warmth of his hold. The tension between you shifted, giving way to a raw, undeniable pull that neither of you could ignore.

He broke the kiss just long enough to whisper, "Tonight, you’re mine." His words hung in the air, sealing the promise of a night you would never forget.

From the tender, sweet guy he was at first when he first sensed your heat... he became the primal instinct-driven man you'd always see and.. feel, on your own, whenever Wooyoung was in heat.

He suddenly lifted you in his embrace and threw you on the mattress in your shared bedroom. You slightlt got up on your elbows but were soon pushed down by Wooyoung, his right hand holding you eagerly by your throat. He undressed himself and smirked at you. That *damned* smirk... the one that was telling you that you're basically.. done for.

"Let's see if you keep yourself true to your words, baby." and as soon as he finished his words, he leaned in for a kiss. At first it was a slow, deliberate kiss, then it deepened and became more needy, lustful, craved. His tongue interlocking with yours, sloppy and playful sounds could be heard.

You loved that Wooyoung was so.. talkative, and loud whenever he was in a heat. It actually turned you the fuck on.

He took his belt from the pants he threw on the floor a moment ago and tied up your hands thighly, right above your head to the headboard. He then spread out your legs forcefully, your body arching against the linen. He ripped off your soaked panties and threw them somewhere. He got rid of his briefs, too, his huge girthy and lengthy cock springing out angrily, waiting for any kind of action. He then slightly positioned himself closer to you, one hand going between your legs, one on his cock.

"Nhh-, please.." you mumbled.

"*Please* what, darling? I can't quite.." he pushed 2 of his fingers right inde your cunt, receiving a soft moan from you, "hear you" he pushed another one, making it 3 fingers. Your back arched against his touch as he started finger-fucking your rapidly, the hand on his cock moving, too. As he started stroking his length, you tried moving up and down on his fingers, trying to get to feel him way more and deeper.

"Try to stay quiet if you can.. I dare you"

"Huh? I- Wooyoung-ah!" you moaned his name loudly as he positioned himself to your cunt and fully thrusted in, no warning before he started fucking you rapidly and roughly. ""I want to see how far I can push you.. see where your limits really are."

As Woooyoung was senselessly ramming into you, his hands roamed in your body, his lips too. They went from your thighs which he kissed and, at first, softly bite, to your belly where he harshly sucked your skin and left marks all over, then to your collarbones and breasts where his lips found their way to your now-hardener nipples. He suck them off for a long minute at the same time he was fucking you, sending shivers through your whole body.

"I love the way you react to me. All those little shivers... I could do this all night" he cockily said, thrusting even more rapidly, breath hitching in his throat as he leaned in for a soft kiss. As he pulled back and saliva dripped from your lips, he looked down at his cock going in and out of you rapidly. He saw your face flushed, not being able to look in his eyes. "Keep your eyes on me. Don’t you dare look away—I want to see every second you lose control."

He flipped you over. Yes, his cock was still inches deep inside you, but he flipped you over and one hand went over to the nape of your neck, pushing your face in the mattress. His left hand, the free one, went to your ass and squeezed it once, then he slappped you hard, leaving a rosy mark on your fair skin. You whined at the rough touch, sound barely above a whisper, face buried in the linen. The same hand from your ass went to rest on the curve of your back, softly pushing himself in way better. He started rapidly fucking you again, but this time with a twist. You could feel him in all your sweets spots, back arching and legs already starting to tremble as you felt your high coming closer and closer.

"Wooyoung, ngh-I'm cl-close...!" you shouted, barely being able to form coherent words. As soon as he understood what you meant, you could basically feel the smirk he gave you a second before his hand travelled between your legs from over your legs and waist, aiming for your cunt. His dick inches in you and ppunding into you, 2 of his fingers circled your swollen clit. You quietly moaned at his touch. As soon as he combined those two motions, ramming and circling your clit, you came down from your high beautifully, creaming on his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm and he for sure didn't plan on stopping.

"I know exactly where to touch you, where to push you… look at you coming undone just like I knew you would. Good girl, princess." Woo confidently and cockily said, drops of sweat falling off his head on your chest. "Let's try one.. more. Shall we? I’m going to make sure you feel me in every breath you take."

"Wooyoung wait-!"

"What." he said, confused.

"Slow d-down !" you whispered.

""I'm not stopping until I have you exactly how I want you" he flipped you over on your back again and lifted you up. He pushed you to the uncluttered wall in the room, the headboard behind you slightly breaking when he forced the belt off. Your hands fell to his shoulders, holding onto him thightly. He held you by your ass and pulled you close, making you jump on his cock.

"I love fucking you against a wall so damn much.. and I'm so sad your heat is irregular.. really fucks up my mood. But now? I will make sure you won't be able to walk tomorrow, as I said." and he started kissing your collarbone. He bit you again, this time leaving teeth marks all over.

"You feel so good.. sweetie. I'm so close-" his breath caught up in his throat as he released his load in your cunt, pounding it all up in you. He took his sweet time until he felt satisfied with the amount of thrusts he did and pushed you over the edge, legs trembling around him and hands barely holding onto him. You came down from your high the 2nd time for the night.. and it was not about to be even close to the last one.

"See? This is what you joined in for. How do you feel about it, sweetie?"

"Please just... don't ever stop" you muffled, with teary eyes and a smirk on your face.

He leaned in close, a smirk playing on his lips, his gaze flickering with that unmistakable spark. "Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and teasing, "we’re nowhere near done. I warned you, didn’t I? Once you’re in, there’s no stopping. And tonight? We’re just getting started."

He tilted his head, brushing his thumb over your cheek, taking in the way your breath hitched at his touch. "Think you can keep up with me?" he asked, letting a confident chuckle slip through as he traced his fingertips along your skin. His expression softened for a moment, but that mischievous glint in his eyes stayed strong, hinting at the intensity yet to come.

NETWORKS:

@illusionnet

@blossomnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @gong-fourz @arki-sha @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @woolysium

[zeebee3]

Mother!! Your last fic slapped so hard? Omg. You're genius.

I wanted to ask you for some recommendations.👀 I love everything you've ever written, so I'm sure I'll love what you've enjoyed reading too.

If/when you have time, of course.💙

Ahhhhh okay this is going to be a long list, I can already tell 😂 I've tried to limit myself but there are SO MANY fics out there that I eat up again and again, and there will never be a comprehensive list of stuff I've enjoyed because so far, it's truly endless.

That said, here are the first handful that jumped to mind which I've read at least twice (that's got to be a metric of something, right?). I'm going to do the absolute barest summary for them because really, the author's summary and tags do more good than I ever will.

It also goes without saying that every fic by any of these writers is a 10/10 slam dunk, so make a cup of tea and scroll their work lists for more gems. I hope you enjoy!

Note: all of them are rated E

In no particular order...

Dramione

While They Were Sleeping by Dizzle00. The sexual tension in this one!!!!!! pls. I die, even on rereads. Mind the tags as it's an infidelity fic (dating not married).

Full Tilt by Khakis. BDD and a Hermione who is determined to take it. You're welcome in advance.

I Won't Kiss a Death Eater by Orolin. Wartime, forbidden love, clandestine meetings, THE SPICE, the moody vibes!! The podfic of this (linked at the bottom) is also insanely good.

A Healer's Guide to Mating with a Werewolf by sad_millennial. The build up and storytelling is so wonderful, it's truly mind boggling that this clocks in under 8k words for how rich and full of life it is!

The Horny Virgin Chronicles by SilverDragonGemini. 8th year, Hermione asks Draco to help her learn what she likes in bed. Every chapter is amazing, I read it in a single sitting and will be rereading for sure!

Serpents & Skulls by Wanderingfair. Muggle uni AU, secret society, mystery and romance! The moody, dark academia vibes are exceptional.

horny devil by SultryNuns. Draco grows horns, and they are sensitive. I know, I know--say less.

Mount by molivier. Brazilian Ju Jitsu as foreplay. AGAIN, say less.

I was just thinking about it, I'm not gonna do it by malfoyesque. Draco pulls out every time...until now. This is the Draco POV of our dreams.

The Wandmaker by Charingfae. Draco makes magical sex toys; Hermione buys one 🙃

A Marriage of Inconvenience by Beforetherealbook. The title says it all--add in virgin!Draco, pining!Draco, and baby we're cookin'

The Summer After by youhavemyswordandbow. Set in the summer before 8th year, Draco is sent to live with the Grangers. I have a crush on this whole story.

Triads

The Cock Tongue Incident by neilistic. (Hermione/Draco/Astoria). Hermione is summoned to Draco and Astoria's home to help with something. I'm full-on on my knees for this Astoria, and the premise is so unique and so so well done!

Tarnished by westxnorthwest. (Draco/Theo/Hermione). 8th year, the start of a triad, no prior Dreo (which is very very fun to see bloom).

Drarry

Only for October by DodgerKedavra. Every chapter is written based on the 2023 HP Cocktober prompt. Every chapter is also FANTASTIC 🫠

Former Things Come to Mind by DodgerKedavra. Okay I'm cheating on my self-imposed "one fic per author" rule but I simply can't not suggest everyone read this one. The prose. THE CHARACTERIZATIONS. I tear up every reread.

That Old Black Magic by bixgirl1. God-tier marriage law fic. This is the one that got me into that trope to begin with. PHEW.

Lumos by birdsofshore. Another classic Drarry but hey, if you haven't read it, let this be your cue!

OKAY that's it for now, but I am curating a list of my favorite other/rare pair fics as well so once I get that together, I'll do a follow up post.

Annddddd now I want to go reread half of these AGAIN 😅

[alpaca-clouds]

The 1990s and the Monsters

Back when Digimon game to the west, everyone was very quick to decide that it was a rip-off of Pokémon. Every Digimon fan obviously knows that this is not true, given how close the origin of the franchises lay too each other in Japan. The first Pokémon game released in Japan in October 1996, the Digital Monster Tamagotchi release in Japan in June 1997, not even a full year later. In fact, we do know how Digimon started: By Bandai trying (and somewhat failing) to market Tamagotchi to boys. (Digimon was still a lot more popular with girls. lol Turns out girls love monsters, too.)

But here is the thing: Monster taming was a popular genre in Japanese media for decades at the time - and something about the second half of the 1990s made several companies go: "You know what we need right now? A monster training franchise!"

While Pokémon is by far the most famous of the franchises, and Digimon probably follows in second place -internationally - those two were by far not the only ones. As someone who grew up at the time, had access to the internet, and was very liberal in regards to downloading anime... Oh boy, there was a lot of monster stuff happening at the time.

Some of it was great. Most of it never came to the west. A lot of it never got a second, let alone a third season. And oh boy, I want to talk about it. Which is why I will do this during the next couple weeks, because... You know what? You deserve to know about all those monster shows that came out between like 1995 and 2005. It sure was a lot. And you might find something in there that you are going to absolutely adore.

And mind you, while YGO never was intended to fall into this, it ended up falling into it too. But YGO you all probably know, given that it is fairly popular in the west. Monster Rancher also came out in the west - though somehow barely anyone seems to remember it existing. I am not quite sure why.

But generally speaking, this particular time had a ton of stuff that was based around the idea of "kid teams up with (somewhat) sentient non-human creature(s) to do stuff". This stuff could be anything. Saving the world, fighting in some sort of tournament, or - quite often - hacking stuff. It was after all the millennium and computers were the new hot shit. The internet was finally starting to be more widely used ans such.

I think next to this, the Japanese idea of living "things" (an even more literal ghost in the machine) and also a variety of traditions - such as Onmyouji - were playing a role into why this particular idea was becoming so popular in Japan. Though I guess no one can doubt that some part of it also was that Pokémon came out in 1996, became popular, and everyone was trying to jump onto the bandwagon. While I will still maintain that this was not thetruth for all of it (Digimon and Monster Farm released as games too close to Pokémon to be inspired by it and as I noted: YGO was inspired by MTG, not Pokémon).

Still, as someone who grew up on those shows, I am fascinated by them - and especially by those that got forgotten by the wider audiences.

And yeah, I think the others never came out over here. So, yeah.

Over the next weeks I am going to talk about them.

[gremlin-grumbles]

October 14th: Aiden

This is part 1 of a series focusing on each of the main six’s birthdays!

Side note: all of these mini fanfics will only include platonic relationships. I’m not going to involve any romantic connotation between characters.

Aiden’s ended up being a lot longer than I originally planned to but in any case enjoy!

Aiden’s birthday had never been anything special. Sure, his parents always left him a gift card and a fancy cake from a pastry shop but that was the extent of it. No celebration, no party, and never any friends to share the day with.

But this year, things were different.

At 11:55 PM Aiden remembered it was almost his birthday. A bittersweet feeling washed over him—part excitement, part preemptive disappointment.

He didn’t want to admit how fast he was refreshing his messages, or how often he glanced at the door, half expecting some surprise from Ben.

But nothing came.

By 12:30 AM he’d accepted it, nothing special was happening. He wouldn’t admit he was disappointed…but he was. Kind of embarrassed too for getting his hopes up. He had even gone to check on Ben, only to find him fast asleep.

He lay back in bed, eyes heavy not from tiredness but from that emotionally drained feeling that comes when you’re trying too hard not to feel let down. He imagined what the morning would bring probably a note from his parents in the living room, something like:

“Dear Aiden, sorry we can’t be there right now you know me and your father are quite busy with work. Have the loveliest birthday, son. We’ve left some cash on the table for you, Ben, and your friends to get something nice to eat. There’s cake in the fridge. Love you, son.”

And with that thought, he drifted off to sleep, knowing that the day to come would simply stack onto the ones he’d eventually forget.

.

.

.

He woke suddenly to the sound of a small rock hitting his window. Confused, he peeked outside and saw… Tyler?

“Get your ass down here, sleeping beauty” Tyler called up. “I’ve been waiting for you to drag yourself out of bed for at least 10 minutes”

Still half asleep, Aiden stumbled downstairs and opened the door… and froze.

There they all were.

His friends.

Before he could process it, bright red fireworks burst into the sky. (Ashlyn, had brought her most effective earplugs for the occasion.)

Aiden stared, stunned. Taylor was holding a bunch of balloons, and Ashlyn stood beside her with a cake in her hands, the words

Happy Birthday Aiden <3 were scrawled in what looked like Taylor’s handwriting. The tiny heart at the end gave it away.

“Did you guys… do all this for me?” Aiden asked, still in disbelief.

“No,” Tyler deadpanned. “This is just our usual 7 AM hangout. We just stopped by to say hi.”

“Don’t listen to smart pants over there,” Taylor cut in, beaming. “Of course this is for you! Happy birthday, Aiden!” She ran up and hugged him so hard it nearly knocked him off his feet.

He was speechless.

“What, nothing witty to say back?” Tyler teased.

“I think he’s having a stroke,” Ashlyn added flatly.

“Guys, give him a break,” Logan said. “oh and happy birthday Aiden!”

“Happy birthday” Ashlyn added, her voice warm.

“Yeah, happy birthday, loser” Tyler said, with his usual sarcastic tone in his voice

Ben was standing next to them holding a card that read “Happy Birthday Aiden” with a big smile in his face

Aiden’s cheeks were burning. No one had ever done anything like this for him before. He felt warm, light headed but in the best way. He smiled, truly, and for once it reached all the way to his eyes.

“Come inside” he said, voice full of more joy than he realized.

They crowded into the living room. Aiden sat in the middle of the couch while the others gathered around and sang to him. When he blew out the candles, a weird kind of peace settled over him like the happiness was stitched into his chest. At the same time, he felt an overwhelming surge of excitement, like he was about to burst. Adrenaline was racing through his veins, and an intense wave of happiness washed over him.

Then came the gifts.

“You guys didn’t have to get me anything, I—”

“Stop being so nice and humble” Tyler cut in immediately. “You’re starting to sound like Logan, I’m getting kinda freaked out here”

Logan looked mildly offended but said nothing.

Taylor clapped her hands. “Okay! Time for gifts, mine first, mine first! I REALLY hope you like it I’m really proud of it”

“She really is,” Ashlyn mumbled. “She hasn’t stopped rumbling about it all week.”

Aiden took the gift from her carefully wrapped in heart-patterned paper and felt a weird anticipation as he peeled it open.

It was a skateboard.

And not just any skateboard. This one was hand-made, painted in all his favorite colors with funky doodles and smiley faces. The best part? Everyone had signed it in different ink. In the back it read, with love, Taylor.

The words curving gently along the edge.

His eyes lit up. “You made this?”

She nodded nervously. “Do you like it? I hope it’s not bad”

“Are you kidding? It’s perfect!” He exclaimed

“Check this out” He started to stand up excitedly, to go try it out immediately, but Tyler stopped him. “Lucky for you, I knew you’d do that, that’s why my gift is the sequel to Tay’s.”

Curious, Aiden tore into Tyler’s gift next. Inside was a full set of safety gear knee and hand pads, and a red helmet with shark teeth painted on it.

Aiden burst into fake tears. “Bro… come on… give me a hug!”

Tyler leaned back, cringing, and shoved a hand in Aiden’s face to keep him away. The others cracked up at their usual antics.

Then it was Ben’s turn. He handed Aiden his phone which had a playlist filled with all of Aiden’s favorite songs plus a few new ones he hadn’t seen before but knew he was gonna love. Aiden immediately pulled him into a hug, 99% of his music taste came from Ben’s recommendations and he could always count on him to get it right.

But that wasn’t the end.

Ben handed him a plushie one that was soft and huggable, and could even double as an stress-relief toy. Aiden thought it was perfect but what he didn’t know until he accidentally pressed its chest was that it could actually sing and it started playing Aiden’s all-time favorite song. Aiden couldn’t help but smile. He knew Ben had picked it because this song always lifted his mood when he was feeling down. Ben’s heart warmed at Aiden’s reaction, feeling content that he’d gotten it just right.

Next was Logan’s turn. He looked nervous as he held out his gift.

Logan handed Aiden a book shaped gift, and for a split second, Aiden panicked. He was definitely not a book guy and the last thing he wanted was to feel guilty about never reading some novel Logan carefully picked out.

But this book… was different.

It was the only kind of book Aiden would ever be excited to open: a photo album. Or rather, a scrapbook. The cover was decorated with photos of all of them together, random stickers, smiley faces, little flowers, and those sparkly things Taylor was probably responsible for sneaking in.

Inside were pictures of them doing all sorts of dumb things, blurry selfies, inside jokes, each page dated and paired with a little note from Logan. Some were sarcastic. Some were sweet. All of them made Aiden smile.

Logan rubbed the back of his neck. “I know it’s not much, but… we’ve all gone through a lot together this year. I thought this could be a sort of… wrap-up.”

None of the others had seen the gift before Logan had refused to show it to anyone, worried it wouldn’t measure up. At that moment though he couldn’t help but feel a little proud.

“No, it’s- I mean-I just- I love it,” Aiden said, a little choked up. And he did love it. How could he not?

He could already picture himself pulling this out on a rough day, flipping through the pages when the world felt like it was too much to handle and remembering that all these moments were real. They were real. These people, his people, made him feel seen.

Of course, he didn’t say all that out loud. Instead, he just grinned and muttered, “It’s amazing. Thank you, dude!”

Then came Ashlyn.

Aiden had absolutely no idea what to expect from her. She walked up to him with the most serious expression imaginable, either super awkward or possibly about to gift him a weapon and placed a small envelope in his hand.

He opened it.

VIP tickets. To see his favorite parkour athlete live and not just watch but join in. It was an interactive experience. Training, tricks, the whole thing. He stared at the tickets like they might disappear.

He’d rambled about wanting to go to this event endlessly since it was announced. From the moment he met Ashlyn, he hadn’t stopped talking about all sorts of things, but he never thought she actually cared. And apparently… she had listened. She really listened and remembered how much he liked this.

What kind of person had he been, to deserve friends like these?

He didn’t know what to say. All he could feel was this overwhelming wave of gratitude — like he could drop to the floor or launch himself into orbit and still not express how lucky he felt in that moment. He could die now, and it’d be fine.

Or maybe… maybe he could live. Live to see more birthdays like this one. More days like this. More time with them.

.

.

.

The rest of the day was just as chaotic and perfect as the morning. They watched marvel movies, went to the park, and spent hours hanging out

Aiden doing every stupid, borderline dangerous thing imaginable (which was allowed because hey, it was his day)

When the sun went down, they all crashed at his place for a sleepover.

Later that night, as Aiden curled up on the couch with the others piled around him, blankets everywhere, someone already snoring, he smiled to himself.

He was tired. Full. Not just from cake or sugar highs, but from something deeper. A feeling that hadn’t come around often.

He had more to look forward to tomorrow. And the day after that.

This day was something to remember.

And with that last thought, he closed his eyes and dreamed of more days like this one.

[diamond-rozie]

*standing menacingly at the door* i made u something

anyways lol. i had a lot of school work and was really busy freaking out and stress studying for a singular test that was 4 questions and would be over in like an hour and then i proceeded to cry about it in my car for various reasons.

but yk what that means!

time for our irregular and unscheduled update of

Gotham Academy's Mentorship Program

this episode featuring a fan favorite: Duke Thomas (aka The Signal - but thats kind of irrelevant for this)

you were supposed to read that like it was from a '90s sitcom and the off screen crowd cheers rly loudly.

some house keeping updates: this scene happens in the beginning of the school year (going by the american system should be september) danny meets damian (and upsurges tim on the same day) around midterm which is around october and then the stuff with jason and damian's drawing happens around december. i kinda accidentally burned the irl timeline for anything dc first scene so now im just gonna do whatever i want.

anyways with out further ado:

table of contents

scene 04: after school activities for normal kids

Duke stood around the corner of the classroom awkwardly, wondering if he had made the right call. Sure the bats and the birds had a plethora of hands on deck any time, but most of them specialized as night time heros. Not to say that they were incompetent or anything, they were some of the most skilled and innovative people Duke had ever had the pleasure of meeting. Sure if anything happened, they could handle it, at least until Duke could slip away and show up as the Signal- Alfred and Bruce had assured him so much. But Duke couldn’t slip the guilt of busying away more of his time to after school activities when he could be patrolling or studying instead, 

But Duke had wanted to do something outside of those things, which was specifically why he had made the difficult decision to join a few clubs and after school activities. He could use a break from being surrounded by people who worked the vigilante life-style just to remember how to be a normal civilian. Let himself take a break from constantly be consumed by one case or another, one disaster or another, not being able to do enough no matter how much he tried or how much time he spent patrolling. 

Duke needed to feel grounded, like his feet were on the ground and he could press the brakes and smell the fragrance of life. Even if the fragrance was a forgotten pile of dog s-

“Alright,” The instructor for their culinary club started with a weird German accent that sounded really fake. “I am Herman. You can call me Chef or Chef Herman or just Chef. I will not bore you all with the boring introductions, and let's head right into the cooking, yes. On this paper here I made the partners for all of you to cook with for the rest of the year. If you have problem with it then quit.” 

This Herman guy seemed like quite the character, and was definitely not helping any of Duke’s previous anxieties. Many of Duke’s clubmates seem to think so too, sending their friends various looks. But no one spoke out, and instead shuffled to the front to look at the singular sheet of paper that would assign them their partners. Duke finally made it to the front and saw that he was paired with a Daniel Fenton at Station 7. 

Crossing his fingers that Daniel had at least only a half-rotten personality, Duke made his way over to station 7. The station was already prepped with an assortment of ingredients and cooking equipment. Duke had already set his stuff down claiming the seat closer to the exit (in case) when a lanky kid comes over, “Uh, your Duke Thomas?” He asks hesitantly looking back at the front counter the partner assignment sheet was. 

It took Duke an awkward second longer to realize that this kid was probably his partner. “Oh yeah I am.” He laughed apologetically, “You must be Daniel.” 

“Danny’s fine.” The boy smiled, absentmindedly brushing his messy black hair out of his face, his glacier blue looking at the equipment. Duke couldn’t help but feel like there was something off about Danny. Not in Gotham’s usual psycho-maniac-out-to-terrorizer-the-city-and-kill-innocent-people kind of off, more in a he’s not in sync with the rest of the world off. While Chef Herman explained the general structure of various types of kitchen and kitchen hierarchy that Duke was already familiar with, Duke tried to get a read on him. 

Weird did not mean threat, after all many of the Justice League- heck even the local Wayne/Batclan were pretty weird- and they (usually) didn’t mean any harm. It wouldn’t be fair of Duke to jump the horse like that. 

Deciding he should try to be friendly with him, Duke leaned over, “Is it just me or is Chef Herman’s accent totally fake?” he whispered. 

“Oh, Ancients,” Anciets? “I thought I was just going insane.” Danny sighed in relief with a small chuckle. There was a moment of silence between the two of them where no one said anything for longer than socially acceptable and Duke debated using his powers to see if he could find a clue or something. That seemed kinda invasive, though. 

When the Chef had started instructions on making today's recipe, Chocolate Chip Cookies, Danny helped Duke measure out the ingredients. “So,” Danny tried again, “What are you in for?” 

“What am I…” Duke repeated confused, 

Danny chuckled awkwardly, “Like why you joined the club.” 

Duke seriously needed to get his head in the present; this was getting embarrassing. “Oh.” He nodded in understanding, “I’ve always liked cooking,” Duke shrugged, “When I was little my parents and I would always cook together, and it was always one of my favorite things to do. And I’ve kinda always liked it, but I fell off of it for a while with school and stuff,” emphasis on the stuff “I thought joining a club could help me get back into it and get away from… everything.” That was a little more candid than Duke had planned on being with someone he had met quite literally a few minutes ago, but it felt good to have that out of his chest. The pleasant memories of his parents swimming in his mind. Mixing the dry ingredients, “Sorry that was kind of a lot.” Duke laughed genuinely this time. 

“Dude, no it’s actually so cool that you like to cook.” Danny said admiration was easy on his face, and Duke couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. 

“What about you, then?” 

“Ugh,” He groaned jokingly, “You can’t seriously be asking for my lame ass reason after you pulled out the flashbacks.” Danny whined, letting the oven preheat like Chef told them to. 

“C’mon, it’s only fair.” Duke played along, already ahead of the other groups. 

Danny sighed, “Promise you won’t laugh.” 

“Okay, it can’t be that bad.” Duke could already feel the smile cracking on his face. 

“It is.” Danny drawlled, “So I live in the dorms right, and I got to pull some strings and room with one of my friends from back home this year. And well, let’s just say my family has a bit of a reputation for causing problems, and the kitchen definitely wasn’t an exception. One time my dad tried to make some soup for my mom because she got sick.” Duke nodded approvingly, that was a sweet gesture, “It was all fun and games until the bomb squad had to show up and long story short we had to move.” 

“You’re joking.” Duke gaped at the bizarre story, but at Danny’s solemn expression, Duke couldn’t help but be appalled, “A bomb squad over soup.”

“My parents were never really heavy on lab safety,” Danny added, as if that explained everything, “But I burn one pot of water and maybe make a few extra-crispy eggs, and suddenly its all ‘Danny you’re not allowed in the kitchen unless you start taking actual classes’ and ‘Danny that's a biohazard’.” 

“You burned a pot of water.” Duke echoed, Danny nodded innocently, “Water doesn’t burn.”

“Well, maybe you’re just not trying hard enough.” Danny sneered, trying to crack an egg on the corner of the bowl only for all the shell to fall in the bowl and the yolk on the counter. 

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s true.” Duke said, taking the bowl from him and expertly cracking an egg single handedly. Danny looked on in awe. “You said you live in the dorms?” Duke asked easily. 

“Oh yeah, all of the non-local scholarship kids have to.” 

Before Duke could respond, a girl from the station in front of them whips her head around, “You said you’re here on a scholarship?” She asked almost oppressively. 

Danny just as taken aback as Duke felt, “Uh, yeah.” 

“Me, too. Have you heard anything about the Mentorship Program here? Apparently we all have to join.” The girl’s partner was looking between Duke and Danny confused, but returned to their cooking uninterested. 

“Oh, yeah. They make us all join.” Danny nodded. 

“I heard from some of the older kids, that no one actually gets picked for that. It’s just like a weird formality thing.” The girl spoke animatedly, “What department are you in?” 

“Applied physics and engineering design.” The oven beeps that it was ready but no one moved. 

The girl seemed to deflate that answer, “Oh, I’m doing culinary science.” And with that solid conclusionary statement, she turned around and got back to her work station. 

Danny blinked, processing what just happened and slowly turning to look at Duke for proof that just happened. But the second the both of them met each other’s eyes, they burst into a fit of silent laughter. 

Bent vunuralably over the table, trying to catch their breath, they were accosted by Chef Hermon. “The two of you are having a comedy club, not a cooking club.” Chef crossed his arms at the edge of the table. Duke was pretty sure he was trying to sold them, but the fake accent was making it hard to tell. 

Danny cleared his throat and striated up, “Sorry, Sir.” He apologized quickly. 

“Chef.” Hermon peered at them, his hat looking comically large and lopsided on his head now that Duke was getting a closer look. 

“Sorry, Chef.” Duke amended, trying to keep his cool. 

“Yes, finish cooking your cookies.” He nodded satisfied, leaving their station. 

“Okay so,” Duke tried to recount what the last thing they did was, but one look at Danny trying desperately to hold in his laugh had ruined all of Duke’s efforts as well. Barely managing to get their cookies in the oven, over Chef’s fake german accent and floppy oversized chef’s hat. 

“So scholarship for applied physics and engineering design, huh.” Duke recounted from earlier, impressed. 

“Yeah…” Danny trailed off embarrassed, “It sounds kinda snotty.” 

“Dude. That’s literally one of the hardest departments to get into, and the scholarship is no sneeze either. There’s no doubt you worked your butt off to get that.” Duke assured Danny as they sat in their stools waiting for the cookies to finish. 

“Thanks,” Danny smiled sheepishly. They sat in a much more comfortable silence now before Danny spoke again, “What grade are you in by the way?” 

“I’m in 10th. General studies for now, but I was thinking of doing medicine. You?” 

“I could totally see you as a hot-shot doctor.” Danny nodded approvingly, “11th. Technically, I’m your upperclassman then.” 

“Technically?” Duke asked.

“I mean, how old are you?” 

“15.” Duke supplied confused. 

“Me too. I skipped a grade in elementary school, so we’re actually the same age.” Danny explained, sheepishly. 

“Dude, you're actually way smart.” Duke gaped in awe. 

“Hey medicine isn’t a day walk either.” Danny nudged his arm playfully, “I’m glad the mentorship thing is just for show, though. Now that we’re upperclassmen, y’know. I would not want my hands full with some random rich kid.” 

Duke laughed, “Yeah, that definitely sounds like a lot of work.” 

Easily unfolding the conversation into various topics and interests Duke found that he didn’t mind that the cookies were burnt. Or that Danny was definitely weird. But in a good way. Duke was glad they met and would get to hang out and cook with their weird not-German Chef every week. And if Danny and Duke exchanged numbers and planned to hangout outside of club activities, then well who was going to stop them.

[solarmorrigan]

“That’s it?” Steve asks. “You’re not going to go to prom because you don’t know how to dance?”

“I’m uncoordinated enough! I don’t need to be out there making even more of an idiot of myself in some floofy dress,” Robin insists.

“Rob, no one at prom knows how to dance. Everyone kind of looks like an idiot, that’s half the point,” Steve says.

“Oh yeah, Steve, you’re really selling me on the experience,” Robin drawls.

“No, listen, I’m not done,” Steve says, giving her a nudge. “The other half of the point is just… going and having the memories, y’know? You get to dress up and take the dumb picture with your date, and avoid the punch because someone probably spiked it, and you get to dance and be close to someone and just, like, be carefree for a night.”

Robin says nothing. She doesn’t agree that prom night is paramount to the teen experience, she doesn’t tease the shit out of him for having such stereotypical expectations of a dumb high school dance, she’s just… watching him. She’s turned sideways on the sofa, one leg drawn up to her chest, and she’s looking at him like he’s something between a fascinating puzzle and the saddest thing she’s seen all day, and he knows what she’s thinking.

Steve hadn’t gone to senior prom. He’d been planning to, of course, at the beginning of the year – he’d had Nancy then, and even as early as October, he’d been fantasizing about the flowers he’d bring her and the dinner they’d go to and the way they would sway slowly to whatever shitty songs the DJ put on. But by the time spring had rolled around, he not only hadn’t had Nancy, he hadn’t really had any friends in school at all—not real ones—and so he hadn’t seen the point in attending.

He'd gone to a movie with Dustin that night, instead (he’s at least eighty percent certain the little shit had set it up as some kind of pity outing, since he’d known Steve wasn’t going to prom, but it had been kind of nice that someone had cared enough to even try). It hadn’t been bad, but it hadn’t been exactly what he’d wanted.

Stiffly, Steve glances away from Robin and shrugs. “Or whatever. That’s what it’s like in the movies, right?”

Robin opens her mouth, but her eyes are still soft, and suddenly Steve doesn’t want to hear what she has to say. Instead, he levers himself up off the couch and turns to her, holding out a hand.

“C’mon, I’ll teach you,” he says, cracking a grin. “Then you won’t have an excuse not to go.”

“You… want to teach me how to dance,” Robin asks flatly.

Steve shrugs. “You got anything better to do tonight?”

Raising a sharp brow at Steve, Robin starts to smile, too. “You sure you wanna subject your feet to that?”

“I think I can handle it,” Steve shoots back, and then Robin is up off the couch and helping him push the coffee table out of the way.

They rifle through Steve’s collection of tapes until they find something he deems just the right tempo, pop the cassette in, and stand in the middle of the living room.

“Okay, give me your hand,” Steve says, taking her right hand in his left, “and your other goes on my shoulder.”

Robin does as he says, glancing dubiously down at her feet as Steve places his hand on her waist. “I’m not actually sure this is a good idea,” she says with a grimace. “I might be unteachable.”

“We haven’t even started yet,” Steve reminds her. “Seriously, relax, this is super easy. It’s just a box step waltz.”

Despite her uncertainty, Robin can’t help but smirk at him. “A waltz, huh?” she teases. “Did your parents make you take fancy-pants, rich kid dance lessons when you were younger, or something?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “No. My mom taught me,” he says, and then rushes on before Robin has anything to say about that. “So you’re gonna start by stepping back with your right foot when I step forward, alright?”

Brows furrowed, Robin nods and looks down at her feet again, and Steve squeezes her waist gently to get her attention.

“Look up at me, not at your feet. It’ll be easier, I promise.”

“How am I going to know what my feet are doing if I’m not looking at them?”

“You’re attached to them, Robin.”

“That’s debatable.”

Steve tries not to laugh. He really does. “Okay, you’re in marching band, right? This cannot be harder than following whatever steps that involves while also playing an instrument.”

“This is different!” Robin insists. “I can’t step on the French horn’s feet! The French horn isn’t gonna judge me if I fuck up! Like, the worst that’ll happen in marching band is that the drum major will yell at you, and the drum major is always yelling, so it doesn’t even make a difference anymore, and–”

“Hey,” Steve cuts in, squeezing Robin’s hand this time. “I’m not going to judge you if you fuck up, okay? I am literally the last person qualified to do that.”

Robin huffs out a little laugh. “Right. Two of a kind,” she says.

“Exactly.” Steve grins. “Now c’mon, Buckley, I know you’ve got this. On one, back with your right foot.”

Nodding, Robin glances down at her feet, but looks right back up at Steve. “Okay.”

“Okay. One–”

Steve steps forward with his left foot, and Robin immediately steps forward with her right and kicks him in the shin.

“Ow,” Steve says, dry and flat because it hadn’t really hurt.

“Sorry!” Robin ducks her head, laughing nervously.

Steve shakes his head. “Let’s try that again. Back with your right foot.”

“At least I had the right side?”

“Yep, now aim for the right direction, yeah?”

This time, when Steve counts off, Robin’s right foot goes back, and his left follows her.

“Okay, now what?” Robin asks, looking down again.

“Now, you’re gonna bring your left foot–” gently, Steve judges the top of her left foot with his right, “back,” as she begins to slide back, he moves and taps the inside of her ankle, “and to the left. Just like that.”

“No injuries this time,” Robin quips, and Steve smiles.

“Now move your right foot over next to your left.” He nods as Robin gets her feet back together. “Forward with your left foot – good,” he encourages as he steps back to mirror her. “And now forward and to the side with your right. Like you did with your left before, but opposite.”

“Uh.” Robin makes the move slowly, still staring down, but she looks back up at him when she gets her right foot planted. “Like that?”

“Yep. Now left foot over, and–” Steve follows her, bringing them back to the same position they started in, “that’s it!”

Robin blinks at him. “That’s it?”

“Easy, right?” Steve says.

“Yeah.” Robin nods hesitantly. “I think I can handle that.”

“Of course you can,” Steve insists. “Now let’s try it again. Back with your right foot. One–”

Robin steps forward with her right and kicks Steve in the shin.

“Sorry!”

Steve quickly becomes glad they’re both in their socks, or he’d be sporting much more serious bruises by the time they reach the end of the tape. Robin doesn’t have any trouble keeping the order of the steps in mind, but keeps moving in the opposite direction of where she’s supposed to be going, and Steve has been kicked and stepped on more times in the last half hour than he thinks he has been in his entire life.

“This is ridiculous,” Robin groans. “This is the literal definition of women having to do everything backwards and in heels!”

“You’re not wearing heels,” Steve points out.

“I would be at prom,” Robin says. “Why do I have to go backwards?”

“Because you’re following.”

“Well why can’t I lead?”

“Because you don’t even know how to follow!”

“Exactly! I’m starting from scratch either way!” Robin aims pleading eyes up at Steve. “Can’t we just try it in reverse? How much worse at it could I be?”

The thing is, Steve’s only ever led when dancing – he’s never had reason to learn how to do the follow part. But then, he’s already been reversing the steps in his head all night in order to instruct Robin; following couldn’t be that hard, could it?

“Fine,” Steve groans, letting his head hang back for a moment. “Fine. Trade me.”

“Yes! Trade!” Robin pumps her fist once in triumph, and Steve can’t help but laugh.

He lets go of her right hand and instead takes her left before putting his other hand on her shoulder.

“Hand on my waist.” Steve nods to his to his left side, and Robin moves into position. “Right, so you’re gonna step forward with your left this time, okay?”

Robin nods. “Forward with my left. Okay.”

“Okay. One–”

Steve steps back with his right foot. Robin steps back with her left.

They stand there, each half balanced on their back foot, staring at each other, before Robin bursts into laughter. Steve follows suit.

“I– I told you I was unteachable,” Robin giggles once they’ve caught their breath, her forehead resting on Steve’s shoulder.

“Nope, this is a personal challenge now,” Steve insists, still grinning. “I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a quitter. You’re going to learn to waltz if it kills me.”

“Shouldn’t it be ‘if it kills me’?” Robin draws back to ask.

“My death is looking a lot more likely at this point,” Steve says, and Robin snorts.

“God, you’re so dramatic.”

“Yeah, okay, Miss Unteachable. Ready to try again?”

Robin takes in a breath, wiggles her shoulders, and puts her hands back in position. “Ready.”

“Great. Just remember–”

“Forward with my left foot,” Robin echoes, overlapping Steve’s instruction perfectly.

Steve grins. “Okay, then. One–”

Somehow, Robin makes a better leader than a follower. Once she gets over the initial nerves, she manages the reverse order of steps just fine, even getting confident enough to stop looking at her feet after several sets.

(The fact that Steve has no trouble immediately reversing the steps himself and still instructing Robin receives no comment, though it does receive a brief glare, which gets a smug grin in return.)

They rewind the tape again and keep going. Steve lifts their joined hands to spin Robin around when they hit the second song and she follows with a laugh before insisting that, since she’s leading, she should be the one spinning Steve. He has to duck a little to get under her arm, but they feel the maneuver is quite successful.

Robin offers to try to dip him, but Steve declines, insisting he doesn’t feel like getting dropped on the floor today, earning a pinch at his waist even as Robin laughs.

As the evening wears on, they give up their carefully-held waltz positions and lean in close, until Robin’s head is resting on Steve’s shoulder again, her arms wrapped around his waist, while Steve drapes his arms over her shoulders and leans his head on top of hers.

“This is the kind of slow dancing I would’ve expected from Steve Harrington at prom,” Robin says as they sway in gentle circles to the beat of the music.

Steve hiccups out a little laugh. “Yeah, well, I had to make sure you knew how to do the real thing, first.”

“And?” Robin asks. “Do I pass?”

“I think you’ve got the hang of it,” Steve says. “Now you have no excuse not to go.”

“Steve,” Robin draws back a little, enough to look up at him without pulling away, “who the hell do you think I’m going to be dancing with at prom? It’s not like I can ask– anyone I’d be interested in.”

Steve’s heart sinks a little, the same way it always does when he’s reminded of how fucking unfair the world is to Robin and to other people like her. He shrugs a bit lamely. “You could go with friends?”

“I guess,” Robin says, staring at the front of Steve’s shirt, suddenly lost in thought.

Steve frowns. He doesn’t even remember what had gotten them onto the subject of prom—it’s January, the dance is months away—but what had started out as something fun is starting to make Robin feel bad, and he can’t have that.

“Hey, I didn’t mean–”

“You should go with me,” Robin cuts in, looking back up at him.

“What?”

“To prom,” Robin says. “You should be my big ol’ platonic date.”

“Right,” Steve drawls. “Because going to prom the year after you’ve graduated doesn’t scream that you haven’t moved on from high school at all. Definitely not sad, or anything.”

“Sure,” Robin agrees wryly. “About as un-sad as not going to your senior dance at all.”

Steve cuts a sharp look at Robin, who just smiles at him.

“I mean, I’m just saying: who better to give me the whole prom experience?” Robin shrugs, tone entirely too innocent to be trusted. “If you go with me, we can dress up and get the dumb picture together, and we can avoid the punch, and you can tell me all the gossip I know for a fact you still know about at least half the people there, we can dance… The whole shebang.”

When Steve had been imagining prom night with Nancy the year before, he’d imagined romance. He’d imagined meeting her eyes across the dinner table and sneaking kisses on the dance floor. He’d imagined going back to his place afterwards and making love, spending the rest of the night worshipping Nancy and making sure she knew how beautiful she’d looked and what a wonderful time he’d had with her.

But when he thinks about it now, he thinks about making jokes at dinner with Robin, about standing around in the tinsel-strewn gym and making catty remarks about who’s dressed terribly and whose dancing is even worse. He thinks about them dancing together, still, and maybe they’ll still go back to his place afterwards, where they can watch terrible movies for the rest of the night.

It doesn’t sound at all like what he’d wanted a year ago.

It sounds perfect, now.

“You’ll have to buy the tickets,” Steve finally says, and Robin’s face lights up. “And I expect my corsage to be very fancy.”

Robin laughs. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t be a cheap date, Harrington.”

“We can go Dutch on dinner, if you want,” Steve says.

“How generous,” Robin deadpans, and Steve doesn’t bother to hold back his own grin.

They both know he’s probably going to pay for dinner. He doesn’t mind.

“You’re serious, though?” Robin asks, looking up at him. “You really want to go to prom just to waltz with me?”

“Well, I went to all the trouble of teaching you.” Steve shrugs.

Robin bites her lip around a smile. “Do I get to lead?”

“For the sake of my shins, you’d better,” Steve says, and Robin laughs, leaning back in to cinch her arms around his waist again.

“You are my favorite person, you know that?” she says softly, just audible over music still crooning from the stereo.

“Yeah,” Steve says, pressing his cheek to the top of her head and closing his eyes. “You’re mine, too.”

[Prompt: Slow dancing]

[soloorganaas]

do you think during poa sirius risked his life and went to the shack to see if remus would be there to transform? did he know that remus was in hogwarts teaching? if he knew remus was there it‘s very unlikely that he knew about the wolfsbane. would love to hear your thoughts I‘m over here spiralling

I’m so fucking exhausted and about to go to bed and honestly with any other ask I’d put this off til tomorrow but this is MY FUCKING JAM so here are my unhinged thoughts

there’s no reasonable way Sirius could not have known Remus was teaching at hogwarts given the access he had to information from inside the castle and the wizarding news. we know he was paying close attention to both to try and protect Harry and get close to Peter, and as it’s pretty likely news of hogwarts new DADA professor would be in the daily prophet, I’d say Sirius could easily have found out before he journeyed to the castle. even if he didn’t, he could have overheard from students or teachers, or seen something in the stuff crookshanks stole for him. heck I’m pretty sure he could have smelt Remus

that kinda feeds into the second point - I think Sirius spent a lot of time at the shack and possibly even stayed there given how he emerges from it (or close to it, I can’t remember) to crap Ron then drags him back there, and the fact that it makes sense as a secret place so close to the castle. but he could only have stayed there if he knew Remus wasn’t transforming there, so it’s really a question of when he went to look

Sirius didn’t go looking for Remus at any point during PoA, most likely because he expected Remus to turn him in immediately. I don’t think he’d expect Remus to be more easily persuaded when he was just before/after his transformation and obviously would remember nothing as a wolf, so I don’t think there’s any scenario where Sirius tried to use the full moon to reach out to him at the shack. but I do think he would still have been drawn to the shack almost immediately, because I think the memories of James and the marauders and home and safety would be too much of a lure, even with everything that had twisted them. he’s just post-Azkaban, he’s an absolute wreck, so I think there’s at least one full moon he spends sobbing in the shack

I am always chewing over the fact that Sirius chose the october full moon to break into hogwarts. yeah, there was the halloween feast, but he could have broken in 6 hours earlier when everyone was on the quidditch pitch. instead he chose a time when the one person who might recognise Padfoot was supposedly out of the castle 👀

did he ever realise Remus was taking wolfsbane? did he spend each full moon prowling around the forest looking for him? did he howl into the darkness half-hoping Remus would find him? who knows. but I am going to be turning this over in my brain for the next 3-5 business years

[phantomamour]

𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲'𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 (𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞)

alex nilsen x reader

cw// no warnings here. just lots of fluff for the start of the halloween countdown!

Alex Nilsen would never admit just how much he had loved you since the day you two met in college. Over and over, he would deny his feelings for you until he could convince himself they just didn’t exist. He could try to assure himself that he never harbored feelings for you when you spun around in his kitchen at one am drunk and dancing, him watching with the most love-sick expression that he was grateful you’d forget about by morning. He could tell himself that he didn’t feel that way when you went through your first college breakup, crying in his bed for hours while he held you and told you they didn’t deserve you anyway. When you moved in with him, however, in desperate need of a place to live, he realized that loving you from a distance was so much easier than being up close every single day. 

October was your favorite time in Linfield. The trees all turned a rich orange, pumpkins lined the porches of every family home in the suburbs, and the crisp fall air washed through open windows with ease. When you moved into Grandma Betty’s house after Alex so graciously offered when you lost your job, you were more than prepared to help him fix it. You had seen the orange and yellow floral wallpaper firsthand and got puppy-eyed photos of Alex when you couldn’t go over to help him tear out the carpet. It was terribly dated, straight out of the sixties, and while you had loved the charm it possessed when Betty was alive inside it, you knew it didn’t fit Alex at all. The two of you had only made it halfway through the neighborhood in search of inspiration for your next big renovation project before the heavens opened up above you, and it started pouring. Both of your clothes were soaked entirely through, and your hair let steady streams of water leak down your face and into your eyes while you kept a tight clutch on Alex’s hand in yours.

“I’m not going to fly away if you let me go,” he teased, accepting the fate that the two of you would likely be sporting a fever the following day as you were still more than half a mile from the house. Despite his acceptance, you were still trying to race the two of you back, your shoes hitting the pavement at a rate that had him nearly tripping to keep up with the way you dragged him along. He knew you’d tire soon, which kept him from running alongside you. He knew he may be the one dragging you soon enough. 

“Slow down! You’ll slip,” he called behind you, watching how your shoes slid through a puddle forming in a dip in the sidewalk. You just looked back at him briefly with a wide smile and kept running a bit further before you ultimately slowed down and swung your arm with his between the two of you.

“We’re almost there now. Don’t want you getting too cold. I won’t be rubbing your feet by the fireplace,” you joked as he huffed, and sure enough, a few minutes later, you were standing outside the door. However, you watched the way he twisted the door knob with no luck in getting it to open and saw the horrified look on his face as he kept trying with no success. The door had a faulty lock; you both were aware of that from the several times you’d accidentally locked yourself out and had to call the other. Alex had meant to fix it, but it had fallen behind the laundry list of renovations you two squeezed in together over the weekends when he was off work. 

“You closed it too hard when we left, didn’t you?” you taunted him with a knowing smile as you tried to stop the water from continuing to pour down your face to no avail. He knew that if he jiggled the knob enough, it would loosen; a fact that he knew should have bothered him enough to make it a higher priority. The idea that something could happen to you while he wasn’t there sat heavy in his chest, but time had slipped through both of your fingers lately. When he noticed the rain still pouring down onto your head, he was quick to tug on your waist for you to join him under the small awning over the door. You two were close now. The awning was smaller than he remembered at that moment, and for the first time in weeks, everything just slowed down. 

“What are you looking at?” you teased him, poking his chest with an outstretched finger at the notice of the soft smile on his face looking down at you. He couldn’t help but drop his focus to your lips for a second. His motions on the door knob slowed as he watched the way your chest moved with each breath. Oh, he wanted to kiss you. It felt suffocating how badly he wanted to kiss you in that moment. 

But he hesitated. He would never let himself live down if he had pushed you away with his feelings for you so he just responded with a soft, “Just looking at you,” before the door thankfully let up and you two were granted shelter from the rain. 

“You should really change that lock tomorrow,” you commented as you slid past him and shed your now thoroughly soaked sweater to head for the living room. He hummed in agreement as he watched you walk away, his chest trying to pull him in that direction like there was a string attached to you. He had to let it snap back and hurt his chest instead. 

~

It wasn’t until a few days later, door knob replaced and ensuring your safety, that you were outside on the lawn with a can of spray paint and he was painfully reminded just how much he adored you. Having walked around the neighborhood with him to decide what inspiration to pull for remodeling the front yard, you were determined to get him to decorate for Halloween when you two were done as well. “It will be good for the trick-or-treaters too. Don’t want to scare off all the little kids with a plain house,” you had commented. He wasn’t sure he could take the idea of handing out candy to trick-or-treaters with you. He thought it might remind him just how much he wanted you to stay in the house with him and settle down. He could picture your own kids standing on the porch while he took pictures of them in their costumes and you watched from the doorway. 

“Earth to Alex Nilsen,” you called from your spot on the lawn, standing in the middle of a bunch of neon shapes you had so carefully drawn out with the bottle in your hand. He had to shake his head to physically remove the thoughts he had about a life with you before he made his way across the grass to stand next to you. He listened diligently as you explained what each shape meant.

“I’m thinking that we’ll have a spiderweb going up from this point to that corner of the roof. We could get one of the cheesy blowup jack-o-lanterns for this circle here and- Oh! I saw this fun idea with PVC pipes and foam balls to make ghosts that we can light up that will go in this box.”

“I thought you were planning out the yard renovation.”

“I am.” He chuckled as he pictured your ideas in his head with a smile.

“You sure you don’t want one of those six-foot skeletons too?” he was teasing you but you were dead serious as you pointed to a box over by the top of the driveway and simply, “No. That’s where the twelve-foot skeleton is going to go. We’ll be the coolest house in the neighborhood.” He couldn’t help but look at you with so much adoration in his eyes because, of course, you’d be trying to rope him into buying that skeleton. When you saw it last week at the store and nearly begged him to buy it, he had told you you two didn’t have a place for it in the yard, and yet, he also knew you’d magically find one.

“We can’t afford it this year if we’re going to buy all the other decorations.”

“So next year?” His heart lurched in his chest. You had said it so casually, like it was a fact that you would be here with him again next year, planning out the yard for the next Halloween. He had been imagining you’d try to find a job out in the city, get a little apartment out there, start your life anew. But maybe he’d been thinking about it all wrong. Maybe he could get his hopes up about you staying in Linfield with him. It felt like wishful thinking, though, in all honesty. He could try to picture you staying in Betty’s house with him. You’d have your own room and fill up the rest of his bookshelves, which you insisted he get to stop piling his books around. He’d leave you enough coffee in the pot in the morning for you to get a cup before you two went your separate ways for work. He’d come home to start dinner before you got there, or you’d meet him at Birdie’s. 

He was getting ahead of himself. He was sure you didn’t even like him back. Of course, you wouldn’t stay. He’d put money down that you’d be gone by the new year. 

“Yeah… next year,” he relented, with a small smile as he nodded in agreement with you. 

~

Alex’s hands were caked in dirt as he worked on setting up the last layer of soil in the flower beds, waiting for you to arrive home from the store. He knew he probably should have gone with you, already picturing the number of decorations you’d have bought and the flowers he told you to pick up. Still, you were so determined to go that you didn’t give him a chance to shower after he had done the last coat of paint on the small porch railing. When he heard the sound of your car pulling into the driveway, he stood and wiped his hands on his pants, accepting they were far beyond saving after you made painting the railing much messier than necessary. He smiled wide when you ran around the back of the car to open the trunk.

“Look at what I got!” you shouted excitedly, waiting for him to join you at the car before pointing to the flats of flowers you had stored safely in your trunk. 

“I got two different colors of petunias, some flowers that the guy working the nursery said would look good together,” Alex had to push down the small bit of jealousy in his chest at the idea of some guy helping you when he could have been there, “and then I couldn’t help myself with the rose bush because it’s named ‘Betty Boop’ and it made me think of her,” you stated as you motioned among the various flowers. His heart swelled at the rose bush in front of him, unable to help how much more he loved you for being so thoughtful with the flowers to get one to name after the house’s original owner herself.

“Why yellow and orange for the petunias? Were you going for a Halloween theme to match the decorations that I know you’re avoiding showing me in the back seat?” he snickered before you smacked his arm.

“No! I have no regrets about my decoration purchases. It’s yellow and orange to match that god-awful wallpaper we ripped out. Just because we took out Betty’s questionable choices in furniture and wallpaper doesn’t mean we can’t still have little parts of her around.” If he thought the rose bush was sweet, the matching petunias were pure sugar in his veins. His heart was racing; you had always been so kind to Betty when she was around, but to be so thoughtful in honoring her memory with him in her house was entirely different. He wordlessly pulled you into a hug, burying his nose into your hair.

“Thank you,” he mumbled quietly as you smiled and went to wrap your arms around him. His embrace was always comforting, always just what you needed. You wanted to drown in it… until you saw the dirt along his shoulder.

“Alex! You’re all covered in dirt from the planter bed! My clothes are clean- were clean! Oh god,” you squealed as you pulled away from him, listening to his soft chuckles as you looked down at the dirt smeared across your shirt now. He couldn’t begin to hide the way he was staring at you so intently, his eyes darting up to your shocked face, to your lips, more than he would typically dare with such an intimate gaze. His chest heaved with each breath, able to disguise it as laughter. There was a weight sitting on his chest that pushed all the air out of his lungs and left him almost breathless. Every bone in his body was screaming to take your face in his hands and kiss you. His hands came to rest on your hips instead as he prayed you couldn’t feel the shake of his fingers.

“You’re not going to hug me?” he smirked, knowing what he was about to do as you shook your head vigorously. You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but his grip was firm, trying to pull you closer to his chest.

“No. No, Alex. You’re-” you laughed as his fingers tickled up your sides, “You’re all gross! Stop it!” His chest screamed with every laugh he let out, holding you as close to him as he could with your hands smacking his chest. Deep down, he knew he was just trying to ignore the nagging feeling in his heart. The idea of kissing you now, after you’d done something so incredibly thoughtful for him, sounded perfect. But you wormed your way out of his hold and darted across the driveway into the lawn with your hands out in warning.

“If you get these clothes any dirtier, I’m throwing your clean laundry from earlier in that flower bed!” you shouted with a smile that nearly pained your cheeks, holding back a laugh as he strode across the lawn towards you. You ran to avoid his hands reaching out for you again, letting him chase you around the lawn for a moment before running straight for the front door, closing it quickly behind you. Alex stared at you from outside the window with a wide smile as you shouted through the screen.

“I’m getting changed, and then I’ll help you with the flowers! Don’t touch my decorations yet!” If his smile could get any wider, it would have in that moment.

“No need to change when you’re already dirty!” he called out as you started to go towards your bedroom, only to chuckle when you turned back around to give him the finger before retreating down the hall.

~

Alex told you he wanted to be the one on the ladder. He had tried relentlessly to get you to let him stand up there and place the last corner of the spiderweb on the roof, but you assured him that it was fine and you knew exactly where it needed to go. It was the last decoration that needed to go up with Halloween fast approaching, and everything else was already set up for what you hoped would be countless trick-or-treaters. You already roped Alex into matching costumes and bought enough candy to feed a village, as Alex had told you. All that was left was the large spiderweb you bought to go up from the lawn to the roof.

“I just have to place this last corner over here and then-” It was only a second after you had placed the web firmly on the fascia that your foot slipped from the rung of the ladder, and you were going down. There was nothing you could do to stop it, and you knew that reaching for the ladder would only cause it to fall on top of you. But Alex was rushing across the lawn to grab you before he could blink. His arms wrapped around you just in time to pull you into his chest and let his back hit the ground rather than your head. 

“Are you okay?” he groaned as he sat up with you in his lap. His hands roamed over your sides, taking an inventory of your body for any injuries as you turned around to face him. Neither of you registered how close you were as you straddled his lap. 

“I’m okay. Are you okay? Alex, your back-” you worried as you brushed his hair away from his eyes, but he started rambling in return, his anxiety peaking as he replayed the sight of your foot slipping over and over in his head.

“My back is fine, but you could have been seriously hurt. I told you to let me be the one on the ladder, but you insisted it was you. If it were me, I wouldn’t have had to go so high, and if I fell, it would have been only a foot or two. You were several feet off the ground, and I swear my own life flashed before my eyes seeing you fall like that. If your head had hit the brick-” You listened to him with eyebrows furrowed as his eyes darted across your body, trying to look for any scratch on you. Eventually, his voice was tuned out as your eyes focused on his lips, which were so full and babbling over his own anxieties. 

Your hands came up to cup his face, and before you knew it, over ten years of friendship stood on a tightrope as you pressed your lips to his. He was frozen, holding your hips in place, but his brain couldn’t catch up enough to kiss you back before you pulled away. Regret filled your system as you leaned back from him, mouth agape as your actions fully registered in your mind.

“Oh god… Alex, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to… Well, I did mean to, but I didn’t expect-” You couldn’t finish what you were saying before Alex’s lips were back on yours, one of his hands finding purchase in your hair while the other splayed across your back to hold you closer. You melted into the kiss, years of secret want bubbling to the surface while he swore he must have hit his head. It felt too good. There was no way he was in reality. Maybe he had a concussion. Maybe he was unconscious on the pavement, and this was heaven bringing him closer. It sure did feel like heaven. 

When you had to pull away for air, the smallest of whines escaped him before he gently said, “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?” leaving you smiling with a breathless chuckle. 

“Looks like I beat you to it.”

“You didn’t kiss me because you’ve got some head injury, right?” Oh, Alex and his anxiety. You knew that the bliss of kissing could only last so long before his head started finding ways to convince him something was wrong. Your hands ran through his hair to try and distract him, pulling him back from the dark depths of his worries, and you watched how he relaxed beneath you. You silenced his thoughts as your lips brushed the corner of his mouth before moving down to his jaw.

“I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you, Alex. Because sleeping two rooms over from you since I moved in here has been keeping me up at night. You’ve always been so close, and I’ve always told myself that I couldn’t have you without ruining us, and I’m tired of worrying about that. I’m starting life over right now, and I want you at my side for that.” His heart pounded in his chest, nearly making his ribs hurt with the force of it. You had managed to say everything he had ever wanted to hear from you. Everything he’s been thinking for weeks. He couldn’t count the number of times he debated walking down the hall to your room at night, only to now find out you were thinking about doing the exact same thing. 

“Are you staying then? I know you were looking for jobs back in the city, and I wanted to-”

“I’m not looking for jobs in the city.” His heart stopped.

“You’re not?”

“How would I convince you to buy a twelve-foot skeleton with me next year if I wasn’t right here with you?” His heart started right back up again. He swore he’d buy you twenty skeletons if it meant you were staying with him. His cheeks hurt from the force of his smile. 

“You mean that? You’re gonna stay?” 

“I’d be a fool not to, Alex. I’m kind of head over heels with you and this house.” He brought his lips back to yours, kissing you like you may disappear if he doesn’t. It was intoxicating; you could stay there on the pavement with him for years as long as he never let you go. You thought you could spend the rest of your life in this house with him. Tonight, you would finally start to sleep in the same bed, the same room. You would finish renovating the kitchen now that the front yard was complete. You could look forward and imagine Christmas already, a tree set up in the living room and snow on the ground. New Years would come soon after, and you’d kiss him when the clock struck midnight. You could imagine the relief of coming home to this house when you returned from your annual summer trip.

Further than that, you could think about the next time September rolled around and getting Alex to assemble a giant skeleton with you to welcome the kids of the neighborhood. You could picture the Halloweens you’d spend handing out candy while forcing him to dress up with you—the eventual Halloweens where Mr. Nilsen would have to sit on your porch to hand out the candy while you and Alex walked your kids through the neighborhood to get their own. Betty had lived a whole life in this house; now you and Alex got to do the same.

[tweenlove-n-hate]

Thanks for taking the initiative and time to organise the Gelphie Big Bang! Must be a lot of work behind the scenes to orchestrate this. I can’t wait to see all the amazing artwork and fics that will surely come from this.

I wanted to ask if we would be getting an update on the Scientific Study of Destiny anytime soon? Also, out of curiosity do you have any ideas for future Gelphie fics once the fic ends?

Hello hello!

Thanks for the ask and thanks for the well wishes on the event. It has been going very well. Over the weekend the @gelphiebigbang2025 surpassed 150 sign ups for the event. Which is 3x as many people as I thought would participate! If you haven't already followed the account(s), you should! Over the next 6 months there should be some cool things posted. The more people that follow the account(s), the further the posts will go for the writers and artists when the reveals go live in October!

Now, on to The Scientific Study of Destiny -- I will have an update sometime this week. I'm not sure when though. Might be over the weekend. Last chapter caused a little rift in my plans for Chapter 11 (aka Chapter 10). That I need to fix before it can go live.

Now for my Gelphie WIPs that I haven't posted but am working on:

Soulmate fics:

Elphaba's POV from The Scientific Study of Destiny - I have this mapped out pretty well and half a chapter written for it. But I need to finish the first story before I can commit to this one.

Soulmate Potion - an idea someone mentioned in a comment in The Scientific Study of Destiny. I've already got three pages written for it.

Blinded by Your Color - Seeing color for the first time Gelphie version.

Your Name on my Skin - Gelphie soulmate marks having the name of your soulmate on your skin.

A Magical Mishaps happen series:

Gelphie Magic Baby/Pregnancy Fic - where the characters and readers won't know WHO the baby daddy is till the end.

(Love) Potion Gone Wrong --- Galinda just wants Elphaba to love her too. But it goes terribly wrong. Not to be confused with...

Lust Potion Gone Right -- think of this one like "sex pollen" / "sleep together or die"

Double Trouble -- Elphaba accidentally cast a spell meant to multiply the practice coin, but is distracted by Galinda and now there are TWO Galindas. (Galinda and Glinda)

Random Ideas:

Defying Gravity but DARK - Movie verse

After Part 2 -- Elphaba's Gift to Glinda -- Isn't just the Grimmerie but a baby - Book and Movie combination

Never ending One Short Day - Groundhog day style

Matching Making - Galinda thinks she's the BEST match maker. She's not.

Fake Dating -- NOT who you'd think would be fake dating ;-)

Kidnapping -- May nix this idea as a whole, not happy with it thus far.

As a rule, I do not post a multi-chapter fanfiction unless I am 85% of the way done with it. If I never reach that 85% done, I never post them. (I have three unfinished Yennaia fics living in my google drive along with half a dozen SuperCat fics and MirAndy fics). So, I have a LOT of ideas and I hope I'll have the time to get to them but I won't post them till I'm sure I'll finish them. Thanks so much for taking the time to send me an ask and for supporting The Scientific Study of Destiny! <3

[earl-grey-teacake]

so how are we feeling after that news.

I am not sure how I feel about everything since I just keep finding out more stuff and it makes me feel worse and worse. I’m sad, and upset, and it feels like a tinge of grief. Not for my own dreams or aspirations but for Logan’s. That being said, I will continues writing my Baby!Loscar AU and I will continue/ start my other Loscar fics. I feel like it is a tough time and I hope to make it a little bit lighter.

I think my biggest feeling is overall disdain and disgust for how Williams went about this. My biggest issue is the whole situation being portrayed as “Williams is a business, this was a business decision. No emotion here” Businesses are not faceless entities, they are teams of people. It’s why teams put a lot of effort in PR and companies invest so much in HR. They are comprised of people and we as spectators and fans also play a role in the business that is Williams. Fandoms are profitable, fan content keeps people engaged, and those who are engaged spend money. This decision has shot William’s PR and whatever goodwill they managed to achieve last year. Logan is a martyr in the eyes of fans and James Vowles has come off as a deranged man. For the past month, any comments to the media are either of him passive-aggressively calling Logan a failure or thirsting after Carlos in a way that makes me want to call HR.

This decision isn’t even a money decision either. They talk about the upgrades, and need for points but are putting their faith in a driver that is clearly being brought up from F2 too early. They are taking risks that genuinely make no sense to me and I am afraid it may damage this new rookie’s confidence on top of it.

I cannot tell if James Vowles is doing this because he wants to live a bit wild before Carlos comes, has a vendetta against Logan, or he is just off his rockers.

I am happy Logan is out of there though and wherever he goes, I go. I hope he goes to Indycar. This is not me seeing Indycar as so lesser sport where unsuccessful F1 drivers should go it. I have great admiration for Indycar and genuinely enjoy watching it more than F1. My wish for Logan to go to Indycar is for the general vibe and how friendly everyone is and for the fact that I live 3 hours away from a track and will absolutely take PTO to see Logan race.

Personal feelings are below if anyone wants to read them.

I got into F1 last year around September but really dove into it around the beginning of November. Logan was someone who never really stood out to me in the beginning but I began to notice him more and more around October and November and I couldn’t help but sympathize for him. I remember how anxious I was waiting for him to be re-signed and the relief I felt when it happened.

I wanted him to do well and succeed so desperately and as it became more and more apparent that James and Williams, were doing, I became a bigger and bigger fan of him. I know I’ve mentioned it briefly on here before but near the end of last year and the first half of this year, I was dealing with a toxic workplace and an abusive supervisor. As the months went on, the treatment towards me got worse and worse and so did Williams’s treatment of Logan. Our workplace started to mirror each other.

The remarks, the veiled threats, the passive-aggressive comments that points to the same message “you’re under-performing, you’re not good enough”. Most of all, the expectation to practically perform miracles with tools and equipment that was vastly behind the rest of the field. I know very well how heavy and oppressive the work environment must have been. I can’t imagine how awful it must have been to have to be doing it everyday, to have to perform for the public like everything is fine, and take the abuse from James, from journalists and commentators, and social media. I was already breaking under my supervisors treatment of me, I definitely would have snapped in Logan’s shoes. However, while my supervisor got kicked out of their position, Logan was the one who got kicked off the team. I do hope he takes the summer to enjoy himself and heal.

I feel so bad for him and I’m so upset at how I didn’t know this was his last race. I had Abu Dhabi planned out thinking that was going to be Logan’s last and now I’m just a bit crushed.