#no one would’ve freaked out. no one would’ve been upset.

[carefulfears]

There are a few fics where Jackson knows Scully is pregnant even before meeting his parents and when he shows up at their home and they tell him he’s like « I know 😏 »

yeah they do this in my favorite jackson fic where he knows it’s a girl before they do :( pros of your kid being psychic

[interloved]

nerdy!anakin skywalker who’s secretly a freak

requested by poll!

description box; the nerd with the glasses that tutors you turns out to be not so innocent after all. and he looks even more delicious without his glasses.

warning; heavy nsfw warning, mentions of cheating and an affair, porn with a bit of plot, anakin is a total pervert and freakyyyy, smut under the cut!, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

ANAKIN SKYWALKER IS A nerd, and it’s by default that he doesn’t associate with ‘your kind’.

the popular kind, the pretty kind.

the ones that run around with the football players, the kind of people that have this certain aura that just makes everyone look at them the second they walk into the room.

most of the popular people at your school were known to be arrogant douchebags, unintelligent jerks and vain bitches who thought they were above everyone else. but not you, though.

you were different. you were popular, really uniquely and breathtakingly beautiful, but your heart and soul were just as pretty as you. you also had a jerk of a boyfriend, and you really sucked at mathematics and physics. but luckily for you, your desk mate anakin skywalker, who also happens to sit next to you in physics classes, knows that. and also happens to be a very valued tutor.

“another D?”

anakin’s gaze is deplorable, his lips are pressed together in a pitiful way.

“yeah,” you wince as you examine the big, red D on your paper, “can’t say i didn’t expect it though. i thought the questions were really easy—maybe that should’ve given it away.”

anakin is hesitant, he doesn’t want to upset you—he knows you’ve been called stupid and dumb plenty of times by teachers, but really, he knows you’re not. really, you excel at subjects like history, english or music, you just… need a little tutoring. but he also knows you’re too prideful for that. you’ve never been bad enough at a subject to need tutoring, but you’ve been consistently getting D’s the whole year and there’s nothing anakin can do.

he would’ve let you copy his answers, but the teachers never look away during exams. he wouldn’t have done for just anyone—he would’ve only done it for you.

you’re the kindest person he’s ever met. you probably don’t remember but about four years ago, maybe a little more, he was getting bullied really bad. and not just by anyone, a guy named dylan. he was your boyfriend at the time. and still is. fucking asshole. anakin hated him passionately.

but you’d broken up with him after you’d caught him throwing punches into anakin’s stomach. you had yelled at him, even slapped him, you had taken anakin by the hand and went to the school nurse with him. and you were so kind to him. so sweet. so nice.

honestly, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when he developed a huge crush on you. but he never confessed, he knew you were out of his league, and not his. especially after your (shitty asshole! anakin would treat you so much better) boyfriend dylan had apologised to him and you in a heartbreaking manner through a big gesture, and you had forgiven him.

ever since, dylan and anakin still give each other dirty glances and nasty glares, but he never laid hand on him again.

anakin would like to describe you and him as friends. you talked to each other in every class you had together, especially physics, because you sat next to each other, and you always greeted each other in the hallways.

but you guys have never hung out together and you’ve never been to his place, or he to yours.

“listen, maybe you… maybe i can study with you.” anakin muttered gently, carefully studying your face expressions as he made his suggestion.

your eyebrows formed into a frown, “you think that’ll help?”

anakin nodded, relieved you weren’t taking this as badly as he’d thought you would, “yeah, sure. i’m a tutor, you know? i can explain stuff pretty well.”

“oh, i wouldn’t want to impose—” you’re quick to deny, you hate bothering people.

fuck, you’re the sweetest person there is. truly an angel sent down from heaven. anakin made up his mind, right there. he would do anything to make you his.

“no, you’re not imposing. i want to. i want to do this for you.” he smiled, but seeing your hesitant face, he added, “besides, we’re friends. isn’t that what friends do for each other?”

a small smile tugged at your lips. “really? you… you’d do that for me? but i really don’t want to be a bother! you’re so smart and clever, you probably have so many tutees and you’re probably so busy—”

anakin would be replaying those words in his mind tonight. non-stop.

“listen, i really don’t mind. it’ll be like us hanging out. ‘kay? you don’t need to worry about it, i’m happy to be at your service.”

you hesitated for a second. and then you smiled, and anakin knew he’d won. “OK, then. it’ll be like a hangout.”

“it’s settled then,” he smirked at you, “my place? tomorrow afternoon?”

you laugh.

“your place, tomorrow afternoon.”

YOU HAD ABSOLUTELY NO idea how you ended up like this. in his bed. in this position. moaning and whimpering his name.

you were on all fours, legs trembling and quivering, your arms weak and the only thing that was holding you up was anakin’s toned arm, hooked under your waist, holding you up firmly as he thrusted into you.

you had never noticed it before, but his arm… looked so… delicious when it was flexed.

“that feel good, darling?” the smirk in his voice is all too evident, he got off on the way you were so fucking responsive to his every touch.

his hands went from caressing your thighs and kneading your ass to playing with your nipples and tugging back your hair.

“haven’t even begun properly fucking you and you’re already so soaked. does your boyfriend not fuck you, darling?”

your mind is nothing but chaos, and your stomach all fuzzy, and the only thing you can do is whine around his cock, writhing underneath him. you nod, you just nod because your boyfriend’s cock doesn’t kiss your cervix like this, your boyfriend’s cock doesn’t fit into your womb so fucking well, because your boyfriend doesn’t make you feel so, so, so good.

“n-need you to go faster…”

he kisses his teeth with his one, making a quiet ‘tsk’ sound. “that’s not very polite, demanding others like that. what’s happened to your manners, angel?”

he’s fucking you agonisingly and painfully slowly from behind, the question papers he brought and physics notes he made for you, just for you, carelessly scattered in front of you. your hands are gripping them as you moan.

“f-fuck, ani—please just… won’t fuck me faster? can’t… can’t, ‘m not—hah—”

“all right, all right, doll,” he replies to you sweetly, bending over next to your ear, still thrusting into so painfully slowly, “only if you admit that you love me more than your boyfriend.”

your eyes widen. “b-but—”

“ah-ah. no buts. say it or i won’t let you cum.”

you loved your boyfriend. you did! but anakin just made you feel so, so good…

“love you more than my boyfriend,” you moan quietly, closing your eyes in shame.

“‘m sorry, what? i didn’t catch that.” he grinned teasingly.

“ani,” you whine, “don’t be like that.”

he laughs. “all right, all right. cum for me, doll.”

author’s note;

i have never written smut like this before. please have mercy on me 😭😭

[steveseddie]

hot stuff

@steddiemicrofic prompt: stuff, 483 words rated: t | cw: none | tags: pre-relationship, steve has a crush, he blurts it out while helping eddie pack to move to his new trailer

***

Steve shoves another DnD handbook into one of the boxes scattered around Eddie’s room. “Dude, why do you have so much stuff?”

Across the room, Eddie snorts. “Excuse me for wanting my bedroom to have some personality, Mr. Plaid-Wallpaper.”

Steve rolls his eyes, putting away some sketchbooks next. His eyes catch something else on Eddie’s desk. “This doesn’t match your personality. You hate sports,” Steve bitches, one hand on his hip, the other holding the basketball.

“Oh, that’s not mine.” Eddie smirks. “I stole it from some jocks.”

“You stole- a basketball?”

The smirk turns into a grin. “Assholes thought it’d be funny to hit the freak, so when they did, I grabbed it and ran like hell.”

A startled laugh leaves Steve’s lips when he pictures Eddie fleeing with a basketball in his arms, flipping off the assholes that he stole it from.

Then he frowns.

“I wasn’t one of them, right?” He doesn’t remember it, but he tries not to think about that time too much.

Eddie’s eyes soften. “No, Stevie. You were never a dick to me, we never really crossed paths.”

“I wish we had,” Steve says. It’s not the first time he’s thought about it. Since meeting Eddie, he often wishes it happened sooner.

“You really think we would’ve been friends? The King and the Freak?”

“We’re friends now,” Steve shrugs.

“After a damn apocalypse! Besides, you’re different now. King Steve wouldn’t be caught dead with me. I was a loser.”

Steve sniggers. “Was?”

“Fuck you,” Eddie squawks, throwing some socks at Steve’s head- and missing.

Steve throws them back, hitting him on the forehead. “You’re supposed to be packing those!”

Eddie sticks his tongue out. “What I meant is- I looked like a loser.”

Steve thinks of the photo he packed earlier while helping pack Wayne’s things- the one of Eddie with a buzz cut, drowning in Wayne’s hand-me-downs, no tattoos or rings. So different from the guy in front of him.

“Now though, I look cool,” Eddie waggles his eyebrows.

“Nah, man. Now you look hot,” Steve blurts out.

He panics when Eddie’s jaw drops and he gapes at Steve, but he doesn’t look upset, just shocked- and a little hopeful.

The door opens then and Robin pops her head in, glaring at the empty boxes. “You dinguses aren’t done yet? We finished packing all of Wayne’s mugs and there’s dozens of them! I’m getting Nance!” She huffs and leaves.

Steve grimaces. “We should get to work before Nancy comes. But, um, wanna ditch the girls after and hang out?”

When Eddie shakes his head, Steve backtracks. “Unless you don’t want-”

Eddie shakes his head even harder at that. “Like fuck if I don’t.” He grins. “Get to work, big boy, then you can tell me how hot you find me and we can kiss about it.”

They finish packing everything in record time after that.

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!yoongi (7) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist

note: yoongi and oc have the what r we talk,, have a few awh moments,, and r jus so cute... anyways,, my apologies as i'll be fixing my taglist next week ,, too busy n just trying to push out content lol !!! also PLEASE BE SURE TO LEAVE UR @ IN THE COMMENT BOX FOR SPECIFIC FIC TAGLIST STUFF (in the taglist form)

EDIT: mochi < injeolmi

//

as yoongi stands outside your door with a plastic bag swinging in one hand—all he can really think about is how amused he is from the 2AM craving text.

he takes a breath, raises his hand to knock, but the door opens before he can and there you stand with puffy cheeks streaked with the telltale signs of crying. 

his smile drops instantly.

“hey,” yoongi’s voice softens, concern etching into his features. “___, what happened? w-why are you crying?”

you try to muster a smile but fail. your lips tremble as you glance at the bag in his hand. letting out a shaky laugh, you wipe your face and take a deep breath in. 

“i don’t even really want pickles and peanut butter,” you admit. “i just… it’s… this isn’t about a pregnancy craving, yoongi.” 

yoongi’s brows knit together and he steps forward. closing the space between you two, suddenly you feel a rush of guilt. 

“okay, then what is it about?” his voice is gentle. he places the bag on the floor so he can rest a hand on your arm, grounding and reassuring. "everything okay? you okay?"

you looks up at him, eyes glassy and full of a vulnerability. 

“i just…” you take another breath, steadying yourself. “i didn’t know how to tell you i wanted you here. just you. no excuses, no weird cravings.”

yoongi’s eyes widen, confusion and something else flashing across his face.

“wait—you could’ve just asked me to come over. i would’ve dropped everything to be here. you know that, right?”

a tear slips down your cheek. shaking your head, a sad smile forms. 

“yeah. we’re friends, yoongi, but we’re not friends.” you say, emphasizing the word. a pang of bitterness lingers. “we’re not close like that. i guess i’m just freaking out because as much as i want this—fuck, i want this so bad… i’m upset that i’m having a baby with someone i can’t even ask to come over without making up an excuse. does that make sense?”

yoongi’s heart clenches. 

he’s struck speechless for a moment. then he sighs and runs his hand through his hair. 

“i get it,” he says quietly. his hand still rests on your arm. he squeezes it lightly. “can i come in? let’s talk about this please.”

you nod and move aside for him. 

yoongi steps into your apartment, closing the door softly behind him.

he heads to the kitchen, methodically placing the jars of pickles and peanut butter on the counter. his movements are slower than usual as the weight of the moment settles in. 

when he turns, he watches you retreat toward your bedroom and for a second—confusion prickles at the back of his mind. 

why aren’t we sitting in the living room? he wonders. 

he’s never been inside your bedroom before. 

… but he follows you anyway, trailing behind you like a shadow.

the room feels more intimate than he expected.

the walls holding a quiet familiarity, but also the tension of something unspoken. you two stand there for a beat, the silence stretching until you blurt out;

“s-sorry. uh, the couch makes my back hurt if i sit there too long. i’m more comfortable in here. is that okay?” 

yoongi takes in your words, a small pang of concern for her comfort, and nods, his usual nonchalance cracking just a bit. 

then, you both settle on the bed.

the awkwardness between you two is palpable. yoongi braces himself for the conversation they both know is coming, hoping the closeness will bridge the distance they’ve been struggling to cross.

“are you regretting this?” you ask, voice quiet and afraid. 

yoongi shakes his head instantly. 

“no. i’m not,” he answers. “are you?”

you also shake your head. 

“no… but, i do wish i thought it through more.” 

he titls his head. “specifically about what? about me?”

you bite bottom lip, trying to find the words to explain how you feel about him. how you feel about everything between you two…

and it’s hard.

it’s difficult because you never had to think twice about yoongi and your friendship.

friends. 

until sometimes, when you two are alone.. it’s friends. 

“let’s be honest,” yoongi begins, cutting your thoughts short. “we’ve always had this weird… in-between thing. but if you need me, you don’t have to make excuses. i’m already here, aren't i? and i’m committed to the baby—our baby. to you, even… so, tell me where your headspace is at. i’ll match it. i’ll place myself in between where you need me and where i want to be for you. you just have to tell me what you want, ___.”

you look at him, eyes searching his for something… then, yoongi continues, his voice sincere and steady.

“we’re about to have a child together, yeah, but more than that… i care about you. always have. so, please don’t think that you have to put up walls or hide what you need from me, okay? i want to see through it. i want to see through you.”

you take a breath, relief washing over her as you nod. 

“okay.” 

and in that small word, a bridge starts to form between them—something real and raw and hopeful.

you and yoongi have never been close. 

there has never been a moment where you were in trouble and thought to yourself; shit i need yoongi’s help.

no. 

there was always hyemi, nam joon, jin, hoseok, jimin, taehyung and jungkook before yoongi. not that you liked him the least—if anything; considering the current happenings—maybe you like him the most. but besides that, you two are truly just decent friends. 

everyone in the friendgroup is. 

you laugh at the same jokes, make fun of nam joon when he says something ridiculous, and have each other’s backs when needed—but that’s it. 

or at least it should be.

again, until you’re alone together... then, it’s different. 

there’s this undercurrent.

something unspoken that takes all makes it hard to breathe. it’s the way he leans in when he’s talking to you. it’s the subtle touches he probably doesn’t think about… all these vague flirting moments leave you second-guessing… but you know what is it. you know who he is. 

and that’s what’s confusing. 

in the midst of this in-between—you don’t know how to word what he makes you feel. 

safe?

nervous?

loved?

and now with the baby; it should be more complicated. everything in your life feels more complicated but somehow; what you are—or what you aren’t—hasn’t changed at all. 

you’re still friends.

friends. 

“can we talk about this?” you speak out. “like first… what are we?”

yoongi’s eyes widen. 

he wasn’t ready for this question, but he also doesn’t hate it. he’s been wanting to know too. he’s been thinking about it too. 

“what do you want us to be?” 

you gulp, not knowing if he’ll like the answer you’re about to give. 

“friends,” you tell him. “is that ridiculous?”

yoongi shrugs. “only if you make it to be.”

“it’s just… i feel like i need to get to know you more. i didn’t even save your number in my phone until last year. we’ve been friends for over 3 years, yoongi… also, i don’t know your favourite colour. i don’t know your birthdate because i always confuse it with hobi’s… yours is in february, right?”

“march.”

you throw your head back, letting out a sharp and loud hiss. 

“fuck—s-see what i mean?” you take a breath and regulate. then, you reach for his hand and squeeze it. “i’m sorry. we’ve been decent friends but truth be told sometimes i feel like a stranger to you. i didn’t think this through—”

“it’s fine,” yoongi says, patting your back. “we’re not complete strangers. you know things about me, ___. don’t act like you don’t just because you’re scared. and, you know what? we can get to know each other more as the pregnancy goes on. besides, once the baby comes out—you’re stuck with me for life. i mean, it’s our baby.”

your lips curve into a small smile. 

“is our baby gonna have two cribs?” you blurt. “hyemi made a passing comment and for some reason i keep picturing it. two cribs.. two sets of clothes.. two homes.. two car seats—”

“one then,” yoongi simplifies it for you. “move in with me or i move in with you.”

you blink at him. 

“...hear me out,” yoongi says, voice calm but his eyes serious, holding yours as if he’s trying to make sure every word sticks. “we already spend so much time together—in our friendgroup setting at least… and i know it won’t be perfect. we’ll annoy each other, i’m sure, but it’ll be easier. for both of us. we won’t have to juggle back and forth or worry about where the baby should be or whose place has what.”

you swallow. 

the image of two cribs still lingering in your mind, mixing with the new picture he’s painting—one home, one set of everything, a shared life that feels both thrilling and terrifying. 

“yoongi…” you start, your voice wavering. “it’s not just about convenience. moving in together means… a lot. and what if we make things harder? what if it complicates everything more than it should?”

he nods, understanding the hesitation even as he inches a little closer, his presence grounding you. 

“i get that,” he says. “but we’ve already made things complicated, haven’t we?” his lips curve into a small, almost hopeful smile. “this way, at least, we’ll be complicated together. and if it doesn’t work, we’ll figure it out, for the baby’s sake. we owe it to them—and to ourselves—to at least try.”

you want to say yes.

to fall into this idea of a shared space, of yoongi always being just a few steps away, but the weight of uncertainty keeps you frozen. 

“i don’t know,” you murmur, dropping your gaze to your hands. “it’s a big step… and i’m scared of what it could mean… for us.”

yoongi reaches over, his fingers brushing lightly against yours. 

“i’m scared too,” he admits softly. ��but i’d rather try and fail than not try at all. just… think about it, okay? no pressure. maybe a timer though. baby is coming soon.”

you finally look up, meeting his eyes, the sincerity there chipping away at your worries. a small, reluctant smile tugs at your lips. 

“hahaha… okay. yeah, i’ll think about it,” you promise, and the room feels a little lighter, hope lingering between you both. "... what if we buy baby things and leave it at yours? i think... i do want to move in with you. i think your points make sense and honestly? i've been thinking about us a lot... let's just do it slowly, okay?"

yoongi leans back slightly, studying your expression before he continues. 

“okay, if we’re doing this, I want to do it right,” he says, the seriousness of his tone making you focus. “since we're confessing.. truth be told, i’ve been struggling with this entire thing too. ___, i don’t want to be the dad who just shows up when it’s convenient or only takes half the responsibility. until we figure out the whole moving-in thing… i need you to keep me in the loop. not even the loop—in it. everything, okay? every appointment, every little thing the doctor says. even if it’s something silly, like craving pickles at 2 in the morning, call me. i want to be here. i meant it when i said i need you to figure out how to need me.” 

you nod slowly, his words settling into your chest. the way he’s looking at you—it’s like he’s already preparing himself for every moment he might miss if you don’t.

“and i'm serious about appointments,” yoongi adds, his voice softening just a little, the corners of his lips turning up in a small smile. “i want to know every detail. hear the heartbeat, see the ultrasounds, even if it means i have to reschedule work. screw it, honestly. you and baby are my priority… i’m gonna do everything to make you know that you deserve to feel like we’re doing this together.”

a lump forms in your throat, and you swallow, feeling the weight of his commitment. 

“you really mean that,” you say quietly, more to yourself than him. “yoongi…”

“of course, i do.” he pauses, his eyes holding yours with that steady, unwavering calm. “we might not be close, but this baby deserves two parents who are trying their best. and maybe…” he hesitates, his voice dropping lower. “maybe this will help us become more than just friends who share stolen glances. more than whatever weird, in-between thing we have.”

a beat.

“shit, do we have to talk about that now?”

he laughs. 

“no,” he shrugs. “i’m not in a rush. i’m cool with taking things slow. i have a lifetime with you anyway. also have a feeling you'll be moved in with me in a week or two.”

you roll your eyes and he chuckles.

then, you’re silent for a moment, processing the vulnerability he’s showing, the way he’s extending himself for both you and the baby. 

“okay,” you finally say. “i’ll call more. i’ll update you on everything. breakfast and prenatals and all.”

yoongi snickers at you. “... and when we’re finally living together… we’ll figure out a routine that works for both of us. we’ll make it as easy as possible… for all three of us.”

before you know it, you launch yourself at him.

you wrap your arms around his neck and he wraps his around your torso, returning the hug without hesitations. for a moment, it feels safe, like he’s anchoring you to something solid amidst all the uncertainty.

when you pull away, you glance up at him, nerves tightening in your chest. 

“can you… stay the night?” you ask, your voice softer than you mean it to be. “i guess that’s what i meant with the pickles and peanut butter.”

yoongi snorts at you. 

“i knew it.”

he earns a hit to his chest, but he takes it like a champ. even though he’s teasing you, there’s something so reassuring in the way he says it. 

“i'm already in my pajamas... i’ll just use the bathroom real quick. be right back.”

as yoongi makes his way to the bathroom, he flicks on the light and notices the little details of your life scattered around the sink. toothpaste, skincare products, and…

a blue toothbrush placed neatly next to yours. 

his heart stumbles at the sight, realization washing over him. 

it’s for him. 

you had thought about him even in the smallest of ways, planning for him to be here.

what the fuck is his heart supposed to do with this?

it tugs.

it skips a beat.

it races.

it falls for you a little more.

when he returns to your bedroom, he finds you already lying in bed, looking smaller and more vulnerable under the soft glow of the bedside lamp. he hesitates, unsure of how to fit into this space with you. the silence stretches awkwardly between you both as he slips under the covers.

neither of you knows quite how to lie together. 

you both fidget, trying not to make it more awkward, until you shift uncomfortably, a small wince escaping your lips. 

“ugh,” you mumble, “my back hurts.”

yoongi is at your side instantly. his nonchalant demeanor slipping away as he sits up. 

“here, let me help,” he murmurs, carefully guiding you to reposition. his hands are gentle but firm as he encourages you to lie partially against him, your body leaning into his. he wraps his arms around your belly, cradling you and the baby, and nuzzles his face into the curve of your neck. the warmth of his breath sends a small shiver down your spine, but it melts away as you sink into his embrace.

you both stay still, letting the comfort settle in. slowly, the awkwardness ebbs, replaced by a sense of calm as you relax against him.

just as you’re on the edge of sleep, you murmur something faintly. 

“yoongi?”

“mhmm?

“injeolmi...” you whisper.

yoongi stirs, confused. 

“huh?” he whispers back, trying not to disturb you too much. “are you craving injeolmi? i’ll get you some tomorrow–”

you smile sleepily, eyes already closed. 

“no.. our baby looks like injeolmi,” you explain, your words trailing off into drowsiness. “the ultrasound… injeolmi. let’s call our baby injeolmi for now.”

yoongi heart squeezes at the endearing name, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

“injeolmi,” he repeats, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. “okay. baby injeolmi it is.”

wrapped in each other’s warmth, you both drift off, with yoongi holding you close. all he thinks about before falling asleep is;

baby injeolmi, you are so loved.

[miley1442111]

accidents- r.cameron

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pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader

summary: videos from the past resurface and it doesn't go well for your new relationship with rafe

warnings: kissing, toxic relationship, rafe is confused, cursing, drinking, suggestive mentions, mentions of rafe's addictions, mention of sobriety streak being broken, topper is an asshole, (i think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

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Rafe slowly walked into your bedroom. He had no idea what he was doing there, and it scared him. God, why did Topper ever speak? None of this would’ve happened if he’d just kept his mouth shut. 

----------------

Three days earlier…

Rafe watched as you smiled at him across the crowded room. You were so beautiful, so radiant, so real, so his. Everyone knew you were Rafe Cameron’s girl, and in turn everyone knew Rafe was yours, even if you two hadn’t had ‘the conversation’ yet. Rafe wanted you more than anything, Rafe wanted you so much it had started to freak him out. He found himself being kinder, softer, and a lot more calm while he was around you, and even when he wasn’t around you. It felt good. Less people feared him. More people started to see him as a person, not this ‘unreal figure’ on the island. But Rafe was aware of what people said about you now that you two were together. He saw how some girls looked at you, he noticed how guys talked to you, and he always overheard people telling you that he fucked girls and tossed them to the side like they were nothing. He was just hoping that you wouldn’t listen.  

The last three months had been nice, the dates and the parties, but you were getting impatient. You wanted to be Rafe’s girlfriend, not just Rafe’s situationship. Rafe was great, despite the rumours from other people, and he was 5 months clean next week. He was a good guy, you knew that, and that’s what mattered to you. 

“Y/n!” Pope called you over as you scanned the beach for either Rafe or one of the pogues. He grabbed your hand and you ran with him, following as he led you to the outskirts of the party. It was a clear night and the stars were too pretty not to admire as you sat by the campfire beside your friends. Jokes were made, stories were told, and-

“Hey,” Rafe’s voice cut through the laughter and everyone’s heads turned. “I was wondering if we could talk?” His eyes were focused on you. This was awkward and uncomfortable for him. He had apologised, yes, but he was still hated by your friend group because of what he did to you and the rest of them. You’d gotten it the worst though, when he had stabbed you over the gold. You’d almost died. Granted, Rafe has apologised, but that was before you two started… whatever your relationship was, and you hadn’t brought it up since. You didn’t really want to considering the fact that when you two finally had sex, he’d see the scar on your lower right abdomen and know he caused it. It would break his heart. Rafe was a lot more sensitive than people thought and that's partly why you’d been putting off having sex. You knew he’d get upset. 

“Yeah sure,” you smiled, taking his hand and getting up, then turning back to the group. “I’ll be back in a few, ok?”

“Don’t lose her!” John B shouted. 

“Or we’ll kill you!” Jj added, a completely real threat as you chuckled. 

“He’s joking,” you assured an uneasy Rafe. 

“I’m not joking!” Jj shouted again. 

You both walked a little faster. 

“Umm ok so… how do I say this? Top- he’s totally drunk and I-I’m freaking out right now. H-he gave me a drink a-and I thought it was just sparkling water but it had v-vodka in it, a-and now my sober streak is gone and-” Rafe buried his face in your neck, tears spilling over as his panic reached concerning levels. 

“Baby, it’s ok,” you cooed. “It was just a sip, and it was only an accident. We can start again, you can start again. This was only a wobble,” you assured him, your hands rubbing his back as he cried into your shoulder. “Please don’t beat yourself or Topper overt this, we all make mistakes.”

He nodded as he sobbed into your neck, hearing your words. How was it that you could calm him down so instantly, so completely? It wasn’t fair. He’d needed you his whole life, and he only got you now? Bullshit. Well, he’d take what he could get. “I love you,” He whispered and you went rigid. 

Every bone heavy, every muscle tense, blood frozen. Holy shit. 

Rafe Cameron was in love with you. What were you supposed to do? Say it back? You weren’t sure your mouth would open. “Hey pogue?” Topper’s voice cut through the deafening silence and brought you back down to Earth. “What the fuck do you think he’s doing with you?” he chuckled, drink in his hand and a bitter tone in his voice. “He’s going to tell you all his problems, and then he’s going to tell you that he loves you, and then he’ll fuck you a few times, probably be the best fuck of your life, and kick you to the curb!” he laughed. “Rafe Cameron strikes again!” 

Check, and check. The sex was probably coming later. You felt used. 

“Topper what the fuck man?” Rafe turned drying his eyes. “Do you even know how I feel about her?” 

“Yes I do, I remember the words being ‘easy’, ‘sweet’, and ‘virgin’. I still have the video,” Topper pulled out his video,scrolling for a moment as your heart slowly cracked. 

“What about her?” Topper had pointed at you in the video, it was at some party a few months ago. “Y/n Y/l/n.”

“She’s sweet and easy Top, come on, give me a challenge and someone who isn’t a virgin fucking prude,” Rafe laughed and the video continued of them rating girls from the island. 

God, you hated Topper right now. You hated Rafe right now. 

“Oh,” was all you got out before you started walking off, Rafe on your tail. 

“Look I-I’m sorry alright? I didn’t think about it, I didn’t even know you then! And I was drunk and Topper always brings out the worst in me, o-ok? So we can just go back t-to normal, right? You’ll be my girlfriend?” he pleaded but you kept walking, your heart shattering as he kept talking. “I love you!” 

You stopped in your tracks. “I just need… time, ok? Just give me a few days to work this out, ok?”

He nodded, tears pooling in his eyes. 

What the fuck were you going to do?

----------------

“Hey,” he sat down beside you. “I’m so sorry about what I said.”

“It’s ok Rafe,” you shrugged. “Maybe sometimes people just aren’t meant to be.”

His head whipped around to make eye contact with you. Seriously? You were seriously thinking of leaving him? “What?” He whispered, the lump in his throat almost too big to swallow. 

“Rafe… come on. How am I supposed to have any peace of mind in your actual intentions when it stemmed from that video?” You sighed. Rafe was busy staring at admiring you. You were so beautiful, so smart, so… everything he wanted. 

You didn’t think it would hurt him. He’d broken up with tons of girls, you shouldn't be any different. 

You watched as a tear escaped his eye, how he bit the side of his cheek, and how he picked at the skin on his fingers. 

Oh. 

Maybe he did care. Or maybe it was an act. You weren’t sure. 

“I love you,” he whispered. “I meant that when I said it. And Topper’s wrong, I don’t just tell girls I love them. I’ve never told anyone that. Just you.”

Your breath hitched and you took his hand to stop him from picking until it bled. “Calm down Rafe,” you whispered. “It’s ok.”

If being near you calmed him down, having you touch him must’ve been the most soothing and tranquil experience of his life. “Please don’t leave me,” he pleaded, tears falling. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, I love you and I-I can’t lose you. Please let me make it up to you, I’ll be better for you, I swear-”

“I’m not leaving you,” you whispered, making a split-second decision you weren’t sure you’d regret. “I love you too Rafe.”

He looked up and you wiped some tears away. He smiled, then pulled you into his arms and kissed you softly. You loved being like this, kissing him, holding him, being with him. It was all perfect. His hand brushed your waist and lingered over the scar. He pulled away, sighing and scared, then pulled your shirt up slightly. 

Rafe wanted to sob the second he saw it. He loved you, all of you, so he needed to see it and get over it himself. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, staring at it. “I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”

You smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “People grow, Rafe. People change. It hurt, yes, but I survived. You survived. Life isn’t going to stop just because we’re upset about something, so don’t feel… held back by the past. I’ve accepted it, and you need to as well.”

He pressed his lips to yours again, and smiled for the first time in three days.

----------------

obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[velvet4510]

Why Magneto’s Storyline in X-Men: Apocalypse is The Worst (it’s not just Cherik)

Ok I just need to vent because this has been chewing away at my brain for far too long.

Cherik is far from the only reason why Erik’s family plotline in X-Men: Apocalypse is some of the stupidest, sloppiest, and most character-ruining pieces of writing I’ve ever seen. Haters may say “oh you’re just upset because he married someone who wasn’t Charles.” But, like, aside from the fact that the original timeline already established that Erik’s top priority was always the fight for mutantkind and he had no interest in settling down - whether that had anything to do with his feelings for Charles or not - the problems with the Apocalypse writing go WAY beyond just him & Charles:

Erik would never abandon his cause at this point. By the end of DOFP, Erik has just been imprisoned for a full 10 years thanks to the JFK situation. Meaning he has spent a full decade being forcibly inactive in the fight for mutants. And he just learned that all of his fears about humans and mutants came to pass in the future to the level where a time-traveler had to be sent to change the past. And he was so set on averting that future that he tried to kill his friend and the sister of the man he loved, and then made a whole speech on international TV begging for the mutants of the world to fight alongside him. This is the POLAR OPPOSITE of a man who would feel like settling down and walking away from the fight within the next decade. The Sentinels being cancelled did NOT make mutant life easy overnight; Stryker was still up to no good, and there is no way that there weren’t others like him doing the same. Yes, Raven’s actions made a very positive difference, but I think we have enough brain cells to agree that this did not mean things for mutants immediately became sunshine and rainbows to the level where Erik - the most (understandably) paranoid character in the X-Men series - would even consider taking a break, let alone giving up the fight permanently. Knowing what he did about the possibilities of the future would’ve made the Erik we know double down on his commitment to his cause and follow up on his actions in Washington.

Erik wouldn’t risk starting a young family at this moment in his life. Erik was a Holocaust prisoner, his people were massacred, his mom was shot when he couldn’t move the coin, and then Charles was shot when Erik accidentally deflected a bullet into him, and then every member of his Brotherhood save Raven were captured and killed. Not only is this more than enough grief for one character to have, but the man wouldn’t dare risk having a new family of his own when everyone he’s ever loved has gotten hurt (largely because of him), and when he’s an international fugitive. That is no time to risk being selfish, and he would know. He would’ve been the first to realize that a potential spouse and child would also end up killed, and so he’d avoid that altogether. In fact, he wouldn’t even consider it, because, as mentioned, he wouldn’t leave his cause behind. You know, if he was actually in character.

Magda is a human. At this point, Erik hates humans. Again, he has just been imprisoned by humans for 10 years for trying to save a mutant, and he just learned that in the future, humans would’ve wiped out mutants, exactly as he feared. Everything that happened in DOFP would only further inflame his already-passionate hatred of humans. He is not in the mental state to even begin to consider Charles’ philosophy and give a human a chance at a relationship, let alone marry a human.

The family lives in Poland. The country where Auschwitz is. The country where Erik and his family and people was imprisoned, tortured, and executed. The country where Erik had to watch Shaw kill his mother. Basically the LAST country in the freaking WORLD that Erik would want to ever see again, let alone spend the rest of his life in. Erik is fluent in multiple languages - he is shown to easily converse in French and Spanish in First Class - and has been all over the world thanks to his Nazi hunting, so if he really needed to flee the U.S., there were a hundred other countries he could’ve gone to and blended into (Canada, France, Mexico, anywhere in South America, heck, he even could’ve discovered Genosha during this time). But in the original timeline, he didn’t leave the U.S. at all despite being a national fugitive after escaping his plastic prison, and he never did get caught again, so….

Erik’s first meeting with Magda is completely OOC for him. Erik mentions that he told Magda who he was the first night they met and he trusted her then. EXCUSE ME??? Erik Lehnsherr does not trust strangers. Erik Lehnsherr does not tell the complete truth about himself and his past to just anyone; look at how deeply Charles had to probe before Erik opened up to him. This stupid line was obviously shoehorned in just to make their relationship seem like perfect soulmates and thus ensure it is doubly tragic when she gets thrown in the fridge 5 minutes later (more on that in a sec). Obviously the intention is for the audience to go “aww, he instantly trusted her, she instantly accepted him, this is true love…” Give me a break. You’re really telling me that Magda met this stranger one night, found out he was none other than the international fugitive who apparently killed the U.S. president and just tried to kill another president on live TV, and went “oh, no problem, honey, let’s make a baby and live the cottagecore dream!” That’s some BS if I’ve ever heard it, and I’m convinced the writers subconsciously knew it; there’s a reason that is revealed in a throwaway line rather than shown onscreen, because then nobody would’ve bought it.

Fridging. Magda and Nina exist in the movie for one reason and one reason only: To get brutally killed and give Erik even more grief and trauma so that he’ll seek revenge on the entire world, aka do what the plot demands of him, aka have the same journey as he did in First Class (more on that in a sec). That’s all. Neither of them are any more than one-dimensional plot devices. They are not characters at all. Magda isn’t even named in the actual movie (he doesn’t even say her name when she dies) - it’s so obvious they didn’t even know what her name would be when they made the movie. This is textbook fridging, and one of the worst examples of it of all time. It’s all the worse considering that Erik never met Magda in the original pre-DOFP timeline, meaning Magda originally most likely lived a long happy life and died old in bed. But now, she gets fridged just because the writers didn’t know what more to do with Erik. It’s misogyny of the highest level.

A parenthood story for Erik was already set up. DOFP already hinted at Erik being a father, with Peter’s comment about his mom. So if the writers wanted to show Erik as a father, and to include Magda, they already had a solution that would seamlessly flow from the previous film - make Erik and Peter’s relationship one of the centerpieces of the story, and let Magda be Peter’s mom! (You know, like she is in the comics!)

It doesn’t contribute anything new to Erik’s character development. From a screenwriting POV, this is unforgivable. May I remind you that Erik’s entire storyline in First Class revolved around grief and trauma for the loss of his family and people, especially his mom, and seeking revenge for it. Giving him a wife and daughter just so they can get killed too adds absolutely NOTHING to his character development. It’s merely retreading everything that already happened in his arc: he loses his family and goes on a roaring rampage of revenge. Completely superfluous, right down to Charles insisting that there’s good in him beyond the pain. The redundancy becomes apparent even in the dialogue, where Charles literally says “I told you since I first met you there’s good in you too.” The script itself can’t help but point out that all of this has happened before and literally nothing new has been added to Erik’s character arc.

See? It’s not just because of Cherik. Erik’s story in X-Men: Apocalypse is an atrocity in basic screenwriting and character development, on every level. And I will always despise it.

(Please tell me I’m not the only one who feels this way…)

[mshinemuscat]

do you write for oliver aiku? :3

-yep anon!! feel free to send in more requests!

car sex w Oliver Aiku

afab! reader

context- you just got stood up at a date, planned by anri of course. you’re sad, upset, kicking the bed, but then… you get a text.

your ex fling, Oliver Aiku

a/n- ignore how trash my writing has been… sorry

warnings- car sex, riding, a lil cunilingus and my horrible “fluff” or “angst” I DIDNT DO A PROOFREAD

its 10:38 pm

you’re laying in your bed, sighing about some random guy who stood you up! you are never trusting anri again, who would’ve known she was horrible at choosing blind dates?

you’re just doomscrolling now, liking and commenting on every somewhat cute guy.

“... this is so STUPID!”

you push your head in your pillows, swinging your legs around. maybe you’ll be alone for the rest of your life!

bzzt!

“please! please tell me that’s a like back!”

you rush to pick up your phone, a text from oliver. your ex-fling..

“you up?” -10:40 pm

oh. it’s this guy again! some stupid strong idiot with some really good dick! i mean you did sleep with him enough… for the number to be in the double digits.

whatever, you’re done with guys! they’re nothing but stupid-

bzzt!

he double texted?! what the fu- you rush to open the chat again.

“c’mon now, don’t leave me on read.” -10:43 pm

okay.. no way he just double texted! that means he definitely wants to fuck right now! wait what are you thinking girl? just one last night stand? your fingers start flying on the screen typing the most perfectly written text message back!

“haha yeah heyy” -10:44 pm

did you come off too strong?! whatever! he just wants to fuck and you don’t mind that!

“come outside cutie” -10:44 pm

wait. HES OUTSIDE?!

you quickly head out to your window, oh my god! he’s actually outside?! you quickly brush your hair and clean yourself up before you rush out the door.

“hey there!”

wait did you even reapply lipstick? did you just forget your phone? you’re so flustered and nervous about a guy you’ve fucked so many times already.

“you were ready for this?”

he looks up and down at you, a cute elegant blue dress. it’s not too revealing, but it makes you look gorgeous!

“oh! well.. my date stood me up earlier..”

you pause, taking a deep breath in.

“whatever.. he was really shitty anyway”

you feel aiku pull you into his arms, one of his hands pressing onto your back pulling you closer.

“ooh! aiku.. i don’t think this.. this is appropriate-“

he quickly shuts you up with a kiss, his other hand holding your head, keep you locked into the kiss. you can’t help but reciprocate the kiss back.

he only lets go after you’re left panting. he watches your eyes, you feel nervous. but then he speaks again.

“i want you back.”

he pauses, his hold on your back moving lower.

“i don’t want to keep just fucking like this.. i want you”

he pauses again, this time he looks through you. you start to sweat a little, no freaking way! no way he just said that!

“i need you, i can’t let some other guy have you for himself.”

is he for real? no way! he has to be lying right?

“im not lying sweetheart, you are the missing piece in my life”

he understood you, he understands you. you feel a real.. genuine connection with aiku, you’ve never felt any spark or connection with any guy.

“so please? will you be my girlfriend?”

you snap back into reality, quickly processing what he just said. maybe you’ll give him a chance.

“a-ah.. shit!”

you grip on to aiku’s shoulders tightly, he just keeps thrusting into you! the comfy leather seats are stained with a mix of your juices.

“fuuuckk… you’re so good to me baby..”

you press your head into his neck, peppering small kisses along his collarbone.

“hah-ha.. is this your way of thanking me?”

you can’t help but smile at his words, his hands tangle into your hair pulling you closer.

“you’re so warm y’know?”

he slowly moves your hands to your hips, keeping you bouncing on his shaft.

“soo.. glad that date stood you up”

he softly pecks a kiss to your cheek, moving down to your neck. you can barely respond, he’s just wayy too deep inside you! his hand moves to your stomach pressing on the bulge.

“just.. too big for you hm, your cunt is just begging for me right now…”

he laughs softly squeezing your hips, lifting your hips up again.

“yeah.. you’re too b-!“

your insides are immediately rearranged with one thrust.

“ahh.. fuckk..”

you look up at him, holding onto his biceps.

“i- i want more aiku..”

in a few seconds, oliver presses your back against the car seat. his hands keeping your legs pressed up to your chest. he quickly kisses your clit, licking up your juices.

“let’s do more then.. shall we?”

he lines himself against you, slowly teasing you with his tip. thrusting fully inside you when you start whining about how empty your stomach feels without, his finger pressing on the bulge on your stomach.

its gonna be a lonnnggg night for you two huh?

a/n- can you tell when i got bored of writing lololol

[twirlyleafs]

”Start of the season-drama” pt2

Max Verstappen x reader

TW: slight angst, raised voices

A/N: thank you sooo much for the support on part one!! doing a lil happy dance because of u xx

~~~~

Max had tried calling you over fifty times the past three days but you refused to answer. You didn’t know if it was because you were still upset with him or because you were just that ashamed, but you couldn’t find it in you to talk to him. You had hope that there was a reasonable explanation for the photos but no matter how hard you tried to come up with one they all ended with you heartbroken. You were terrified Max would confirm any of them.

You read his texts and listened to his voice messages, responding that you’d talk to him when he’d get back. When he threatened to take an early flight, missing the race, you told him he was being dramatic and then you wished him good luck. Max stopped trying to reach you after that.

You had called in sick to work Friday and Saturday, staying home to simultaneously write and watch the qualifying and the race. You weren’t surprised to see Max bring home another win, but you felt bad when you noticed his seemingly bad mood in the post-race interviews. You could just assume you were the reason for the constant frown on his face and the dark circles under his eyes.

Sunday afternoon rolled in and you were restless. The fact that Max would be arriving back home tomorrow was starting to freak you out and you forced yourself to keep busy at all times not to overthink everything more than you already were. Currently you were standing on your tiptoes on one of the bar chairs, dusting the top of the bookshelves that were lining one wall in the living room. It obviously hadn’t been done in years and didn’t necessarily need to be done now either, but it was something to do. You were so caught up in your work that you hadn’t noticed the sound of the front door being unlocked, the bags being dropped on the floor or someone entering the room. Max stopped on the other side of the room, brows furrowed as he took you in. You were wearing one of his shirts, by the look of it one of his oldest ones and he knew you would’ve had to dug deep in the drawers for that one. As you reached the top shelf it rode up enough for him to see that you were wearing a pair of his boxers too and for some reason he melted slightly at the fact that you were dressed all in his clothes.

“Be careful.” You flinched, a gasp leaving your lips as your head spun around to follow the sudden sound. Max eyes widened as you wobbled for a second before regaining your balance and he thanked god he didn’t cause you to fall.

“Max, you’re home already?” You were confused, trying to figure out if your calculations had been wrong. He nodded, having to stop himself from walking over to help you as you climbed down from the chair.

“I took an early flight, left right after the podium.” He paused for a second, feeling the anger he’d felt for the past few days bubbling up again. “Felt a bit stressed to get back here since my girlfriend has been refusing to talk to me.” You bit down on the inside of your cheeks, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“Congrats on the win, you were-“ you began, but Max cut you off. He had told himself to keep calm, talk this through, but he felt the plan collapse almost immediately. He couldn’t deny the frustration.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I don’t want a congratulation from you y/n, I want an explanation! I want to know what the fuck happened on Thursday?” His voice was sharp, arms crossed over his chest. You looked away.

“What happened was that I wanted to come see you, but you said no.” You shrugged, the frown on your face deepening.

“I didn’t say no, I said it was unnecessary- that’s not even the issue here. The thing I’m most upset- confused over is you said I had some girl?”

“I saw the pictures Max.” You glared at him, all the hurt and confusion and anger from the past few days coming back. “I saw you with her.“

Max looked even more bewildered than a second ago, flailing his arms out in exasperation. “Who?! What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about your fucking date to the banquet!” You exclaimed, raising your voice to match his. “The girl you snuck away with when you didn’t think anyone would see!” Max just stared at you with wide eyes, lips opening and parting in confusion. You, however, took his silence as a sign of guilt. “I get that you’d want a girl who’s willing to follow you everywhere, who’s willing to give up her own life to be your trophy but fuck, Max, I thought you’d at least give me a heads up.”

”I didn’t bring a fucking date to the banquet, where are you getting this from? What fucking photos?”

Without another word you reached for your phone, searching up the tweet that started this whole mess. Zooming in on the photo where he was cupping her cheeks you handed him the phone, crossing your arms over your chest the second he grabbed it from you. Max stared down at the screen, eyebrows going up before they were pushed together. Slowly he looked up at you again.

“Baby-“ he began with a sigh, the apologetic tone of his voice had you assuming he was about to confess to cheating on you. The anger was quickly replaced with hurt and a shockwave of sadness. Suddenly your vision was watery and you took a step back, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. Max seemed to understand, quickly shaking his head.

“It’s not what you think, not what it looks like.”

“Oh come on-“ you sniffed, but Max wouldn’t have it.

“No, I get how that sounds but just let me explain. That’s Rebecca, you’ve met her. Tommy’s daughter.” You had to rummaged through your brain for a second before you could place the name. Rebecca was the daughter of one of Redbulls mechanics. You’d met her a few times during races, she was a sweet girl. Your eyes widened slightly.

“Isn’t she like seventeen?”

“Yeah!”

You stared at him, even more chocked than a moment before. Max saw the look on your face and quickly shook his head. A shiver ran up his spine at the realization of what you were thinking.

“God no! Not like that. She was at the banquet with Tommy but something happened, I think someone tried to pressure her into drinking and stuff- I met her when I came from the restroom and she was crying so I brought her out, away from everyone.” Max looked down at the photo again, frowning. “Away from the cameras, I thought. She was hyperventilating and I all could think about is when you’re having a panic attack so I did what I do then, I held her and I forced her to breathe with me.” When he looked back up you were already staring at him, lips slightly parted in chock. Max tossed your phone into the couch, taking a careful step closer to you. “That’s it. That’s all that happened. I did what you taught me.”

“God.” You let out a shaky breath, hiding your face behind your hands. Out of all the scenarios you’d constructed over the past few days, none even came close to this. Max hadn’t cheated, he hadn’t even been close to. He’d helped an innocent girl, doing for her what he always did for you when you suffered from anxiety. The guilt was slowly settling in your stomach. Max watched you softly shake your head before you carefully glanced at him between fingers. “Max I’m so sorry.” You saw him visibly relax when he realized you accepted his explanation and a second later he sunk down in the couch, seemingly exhausted. With a deep breath he leaned back, closing his eyes.

“Fuck.” He sighed, reaching up to rub his forehead. “I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out what I did and why you were so mad and not once did it occur to me that it might’ve been this.” Things were quiet after that. You crawled up on the barstool, pulling your knee to your chest, as Max stayed half laying down in the couch. Leaning your cheek against your knee you watch his chest rise and fall slower and slower. You almost thought he’d fallen asleep when he suddenly spoke again. “Did you think I cheated on you?”

“I don’t know.” You answered honestly, making Max open his eyes to look at you. You felt your heart clench at the sad look on his face. “I love you Max, and I know you love me but-“

“But?” He asked softly, moving to sit up properly. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and watched your through thick lashes. You took a deep breath.

“But sometimes I worry I’m not what you want. I know a lot of the others wife’s and girlfriends come to every race and you know, follow you guys around the world. I would understand if you’d want that too. You’re always talking about how I should quit my job and- well I saw the pictures and I guess all my insecurities came to life and I freaked out. I’m sorry.” You reached up to swiftly wipe away a stray tear and Max frowned. He reached a hand out, waving it as to call you over. You got the hint and slid down from the chair, carefully padding across the floor to him. The second you were within reach he pulled you down in his lap and you could practically feel yourself melt into him. God you’d missed having him close.

“You are everything I want.” Max mumbled against the top of your head and you felt shivers run up your spine. You opened your mouth to answer but quickly shut it again when you felt the lump in your throat, a few tears spilling over as you blinked. Max let his arms snake even tighter around you as he heard you sniff quietly against his chest. “I love how much you value your job and I’m so proud of you for actually being able to handle both studying and working at the same time.” You felt his fingers press softly into your side as he spoke, voice hushed and gentle. “I tell the guys all the time how smart you are, how much I admire you.”

“But I’m never there for you.” You whispered and Max carefully shifted the two of you enough so that he could look down at you. His eyes flickered between yours, hand moving up to wipe your tears.

“You’re always there for me. Maybe not in person, but I always know I have you. Like you always know you have me, right?” He waited for you to nod before he continued. “I can race on my own, just like you work on your own. Whats important to me is that I get to come home to you.” He carefully picked an eyelash from your cheek as you processed his words. When he met your eyes again he offered a small smile, tilting his head slightly. “That being said, if I could I’d spend every second literally glued to your side but apparently that’s not healthy.” You laughed at that and the smile on Maxs face widened. With something between a sigh and a chuckle you dropped your forehead back against his chest.

“I’m sorry again Maxie.” You mumbled against his shirt, feeling it vibrate as he hummed.

“Don’t worry about it schatje.” He pulled you with him to lay down in the couch and it barely took a second before the two of you were comfortably entangled in each other. “Honestly, it was kind of nice seeing you that jealous. It’s an achievement from my part, without even knowing.” He joked, earning another laugh from you as you lifted your head to look at him.

“First place the first two races of the season wasn’t enough achievements for you?”

The grin almost took up Maxs whole face and you giggled at the proud twinkle in his eyes. Before he had time to say something that would have you slap him, you leaned in to press your lips against his instead.

Max was home and everything was alright.

~~~~

Tagging ppl who asked for pt2 <333

@lpab @aexitizen-ln4 @buttfug213 @sxcretricciardo @hadthemapplebottomjeans @sunny44 @phantomxoxo @sunnyfunnydemon

[icallhimjoey]

bookstore joe hits different and i want to be hit once more right across the face pretty please

im sorry to the girls who arent into bookstore joe and im very not sorry to the girls who are into bookstore joe - enjoy babes! Wordcount: 2.4K

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I Want To Hold Your Hand

When Joe walked in just after three, he greeted Anne who was stood behind the counter, doing some till work, and he got a small grunt in reply.

Standard. Made him smile. No sign of you, though.

Joe looked, craned his neck, but every corner of the store was empty. You were probably doing something in the back. He’d see you in a second.

Like always, he found a book, found a seat, and settled in for at least an hour of reading. He had the time today. Time to sit. Time to read. To soak up the atmosphere. To maybe kiss you again, if he was lucky. Time to notice how Anne was being more quiet than usual. To see how she was helping customers in a voice so unnatural to her own, it kind of freaked him out a little. To see her disappear into the back and come out back on her own, and...

Where were you?

He’d kissed you a few days ago. Kissed you. And now, something felt... weird. Like something was missing.

It was nearing in on 4PM and Anne hadn’t yet told him to fuck off, or whatever, so he knew something was off.

It was quiet in the store when Joe spoke up and asked, “Hey, Anne... am I going insane, or–”

“It’s your fault.” she was quick to cut him off, not even looking up from her task.

Joe frowned. What had he done?

“What have I done?”

Anne sighed and gestured a vague hand at him as she said, “Just your mere existence.” like it was obvious.

Joe thought back to all of your recent interactions. Your granddad had sadly passed away just over two weeks ago. Last week he tried cheering you up by showing you some pictures from the shoot you allowed him to do in the store. He’d kissed you then. The funeral had happened, and Anne had let Joe help out behind the till for a second and... now, you were... hiding?

From him?!

Surely not.

That was going to make this plan of sneaking another kiss absolutely impossible.

Unacceptable.

Anne watched Joe go through every single thing he’d done or said over the past few days that could’ve upset you, and then begrudgingly sighed.

“You’re such an idiot.” Anne said, before nodding her head towards the door that read personnel - the same door Joe had walked through ten seconds into his first ever visit.

Joe didn’t need telling twice.

When he stepped into the breakroom, he wasn’t prepared for how he found you.

You were sat at the table, buried in your laptop, one leg up on the chair, chin resting on your knee, and it was obvious you’d been crying. No matter how sweetly you smiled at the sight of him, it was obvious. Your face still eyed somewhat blotchy, eyes void of make-up and the delicate skin around them coloured red.

“Hey,” you didn’t seem surprised at the sight of him, at the fact that he’d just walked right into a room he technically wasn’t really allowed to be in.

“Hey, you– I’m sorry, you weren’t in the store, Anne said I could–... are you all right?”

Your smile grew as you nodded.

“Yea, sorry. Something, happened... earlier, it’s nothing,” you were quick to wave a hand, dismissing whatever had gotten you to hide in the back entirely. “I’m okay. How are you?”

Joe didn’t believe you. Didn’t buy it for a second. He felt like he should, because it felt like it was polite to take you for your word, but he couldn’t help the suspicious narrowing of his eyes.

“What happened?”

“Well, nothing, really. I overreacted to something and–”

“To what?” Joe interrupted, and immediately apologised. “Sorry, I... I’m sorry, I just...”

He just, what? If Joe knew, he would’ve told you, but it was not that long ago that Joe found you crying in a closed store and this felt oddly similar.

He didn’t like you upset.

Made him want to fix it.

“I promise I’m okay, just... it was for the best for me to not face any customers for a second, and I had to do some administrative work anyway, so...”

Joe’s eyes fell on your laptop as you gestured at it, and then he saw what was next to it.

He recognised it instantly.

The book you’d never sell.

Was it insane to think that he knew something was missing in the storefront? That he’d subconsciously noticed that it wasn’t in its spot? On the shelf? Where it always sat?

Probably was.

“Oh, um...” you saw Joe’d noticed and laid a flat palm on the leather-bound cover. “Yea, this was,” you had to stop to swallow.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Joe quickly decided. He didn’t want to make you start crying again. He wanted exactly the opposite, actually.

“No, it’s not–” you cleared your throat and sat up straight. You didn’t want to get emotional again over such a silly thing. “It’s Anne. She sat me down here and refuses to let me do anything else.”

You used her as you excuse. You weren’t lying; Anne really had said that you could stay in the breakroom for the rest of the day. She’d man the front on her own fine. Would find you with questions but then would tell you everything was going okay and leave you on your own again. But she wasn’t keeping you there. You were keeping you there.

“Ah. Can’t piss off Anne, can we?” Joe smirked slightly.

“I think we piss off Anne all the time,” you laughed, and it broke the tension a little.

Joe awkwardly stood in the middle of the breakroom and you were sort of glad he was there, but you wished you would’ve just been in the storefront with him. That you would’ve gotten to see his face as he’d walked in. As he’d sat down with his book. As he’d crossed his legs and let his head rest in his palm of which the elbow pushed into the armrest.

Joe was still staring at where your hand was placed, and now that you couldn’t seem to move your hand away from the big book of fairytales and folklore your granddad used to read you stories from, it felt only fair to explain why you’d gotten upset earlier that day.

“Someone tried to buy it.”

It was so stupid, because, before, when someone would climb up a ladder and find it, you would smile and just tell them, “No sorry, that one belongs to the store, I’m afraid.” and calmly take it from their hands to put it back.

Where your granddad used to make you reach for it when you were little.

Where your mother would pluck you from a ladder and scold her father for making you climb up so high.

Where it lived.

Where it had always lived.

It had never been a problem before. People were allowed to touch it. To read it. To ask to buy it. You’d just tell them no, and that would be the end of it.

Not today, though.

“They caused a bit of a scene when I said they couldn’t.”

You smiled as you said it, but Joe saw right through it.

“They were right though. Why keep a book in a bookstore when it’s not for sale? It’s right in between all of the books that are... I should just, I don’t know. Keep it some place else, I guess.”

“Of course not.” Joe reacted matter-of-factly.

You’d just gone through something extremely traumatic, were still going through something extremely traumatic, and why would you listen to someone who didn’t know? Who didn’t understand?

Joe thought he barely even understood, but he understood this.

He understood the blotchy skin. He understood Anne banning you from your own store for the rest of the day. He understood why you weren’t moving your hand from your grandfather’s book that he used to read you your favourite story from.

“I hope this doesn’t sound insensitive, but... I kind of wish I’d have been here when that happened.”

Not so that he could be the hero. Not so that he could step in and tell them to maybe just accept what the store owner was telling them.

“I would’ve loved to see Anne’s face.”

That made you chuckle. Anne really was your personal guard dog, as so it turned out.

“It was a pretty great face,” you recalled, smiling to yourself. God, you really lucked out with her.

“Store’s fairly empty now, though...” Joe pointed a casual thumb over his shoulder, and you looked at the door to where Anne still was manning the front.

You took a deep breath and grimaced a little, “Yea, I know... but, I kind of... I have some things I can finish here,” you pulled your laptop towards you. “And we’re nearly closing, anyway, so...”

You had already decided this was going to be the place where you would do all of your work today, and didn’t really want to come out of hiding. You’d do that after Anne would lock up. When there wouldn’t be any chance of the bell above the door jolting you back into your anxiety.

Joe thought for a moment. Looked at you, your laptop, your grandfather’s book, and...

“Would you mind some silent company?”

That one other time he had found you all fragile and up in your emotions, he’d just sat down right next to you, started reading a book in silence, and it had worked. He kind of wanted to give it another go. See if it would also work a second time.

“I–...” you faltered and looked at the wooden chairs around the table you were sat at. “These aren’t half as comfortable as the ones out front.”

“I asked, would you mind it?” Joe let his eyes twinkle, lips almost smiling. It made you drop your shoulders a bit as you relaxed at the idea of a bit of Joe in the break room, just for your comfort.

“No, I wouldn’t mind it.” you copied his tone, and Joe’s almost-smile turned into a beaming one.

“Okay, one second.” Joe said, slapping the doorframe as he passed through it, and you heard how he rushed his steps.

“Not my fault!” you heard Joe call out to Anne.

“Absolutely your fault,” Anne calmly replied.

“Not my mere existence!”

“Just your face then.”

Joe jogged back into the breakroom with a book in hands and pulled out the chair opposite you. He sat down, found his page and gave you a last sneaky little look over your laptop screen.

Then, just like before, he offered you his hand.

His hand.

Joe laid his arm across the table, wrist up, palm open, with fingers just shy of touching your laptop.

You just looked at it a moment.

Joe didn’t need to comfort you the way he had done that day, in the store, when all you could do was think about your grandfather and cry at his memories and the fact that there wouldn’t be new ones made.

A customer hadn’t been very kind to you today about something you felt sensitive about, and over an hour had passed already. You were fine.

But the gesture was sweet. Joe offered his hand for holding and even though it wasn’t needed, necessarily, it was still a nice gesture.

Kind.

Joe was so sweet. So kind. Soft and gentle and lovely.

You remembered how nice the distraction of playing fingers had been. How it had calmed you down enough for you to reveal the source of your hurt that day.

“Come on,” Joe then softly said, not unkindly, and you made eye-contact for a second. If he wasn’t going to be able to kiss you today, he could still try for the next best thing.

“I want to hold your hand.”

Just like that, it all shifted from a comforting gesture that was meant to soothe you to just a thing Joe wanted for himself. It was a bit silly how that made it easier to give in.

You reached a hand over and let the tips of your fingers touch the warm skin of his palm before they spread out and found a way to hold onto Joe’s closing fingers. They curled together best they could in their position, and when you chanced another glance at Joe, you saw the faintest hint of a smile across his face as his eyes had found his page again.

You got back to your work on your laptop, and whilst it definitely was a lot trickier to work down your to do list with one hand, it was also definitely a lot more gratifying.

You sat in the breakroom together like that until you could hear Anne carry the A-frame into the store, and where before you’d wished the day had just been over already, you kind of wished you’d get at least another five minutes with Joe. All right. Maybe ten.

Joe stayed put until you closed your laptop.

Joe stayed put until you got up to go back out front.

And then Joe stayed put until you walked back into the breakroom to pick up your grandfathers big leather bound book; the one book you’d never sell.

Joe watched you place it back where it belonged.

Back on its shelf where Joe remembered finding it after your grandfather asked him to go fetch him something from up high.

“Thank you.” you said looking down from you position up on a ladder, and Joe just smiled.

“Thank you.” Joe said in return, holding up the book he’d been reading before putting it down on his little ledge where he kept them.

“Thank me.” Anne dryly said, mostly to herself, from where she was doing the till.

“No.” Joe gave Anne the same smile he’d given you, and made you giggle as he said goodbye and left the store with a small wave.

“Thank you Anne,” you made a point to say it, because Anne really had been the star of the show today.

“Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.”

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[estrellami-1]

Never Forgot

Based on this post.

Steve knew something was wrong when she ran out of the room, choking back tears.

He felt bad, felt like there was something missing, but he didn’t remember her. Thinking about it, he realized he didn’t really remember anything.

“Robin?” Dustin asked when she all but ran out of the hospital room.

She stifled a sob and collapsed onto the bench next to him, holding a hand over her mouth. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Dustin, he… he doesn’t remember me.”

Dustin took a deep breath and very carefully did not freak out. “Okay. You stay here, I’ll go talk to him. See if we can shake it loose or something.” He rolled his eyes at the look she gave him. “Not literally, Buckley, jeez. Keep your pants on.”

He squared his shoulders and walked into the hospital room. Steve looked fine, if tired—hospital lighting never did anyone any favors—but the absent smile he sent Dustin spoke volumes. “Hi,” he said quietly, stilted in a way he never was anymore. Not with Dustin. “Um, can you apologize to her for me? She seemed really upset and I’m not sure what I did but I think it’s my fault.”

Dustin sighed and sat in the chair by Steve’s hospital bed. “You really don’t remember her, huh.” It wasn’t a question, so Steve didn’t answer. “And I’m guessing you don’t remember me, either?”

Steve picked at the blanket on his lap. “I’m sorry.”

“Jesus fuck,” Dustin whispered, screwing his eyes shut. “Don’t apologize, Jesus, it’s not your fault. It just… sucks.”

Steve snorted. “Imagine waking up and only remembering one person.”

Dustin looked up at him sharply. “One person?”

Steve shrugged. “Guess I’d be a pretty shitty boyfriend if I didn’t, yeah.”

“Boyfriend?” Dustin blinked. “Steve, you’re not dating anyone.”

Steve frowned. “I am. Maybe you don’t know him? Eddie? Eddie Munson?”

“Eddie- Christ, Steve, of course I know Eddie, and you two aren’t dating. You’re, like, as straight as they come.”

“No- no, I am, I’m dating him, I’m- we’re-”

“Whoa, okay, hold up, calm down,” Dustin said, holding his hands out. “It’s fine, dude, okay, we’ll figure it out later but I don’t think you should be stressing this hard after just waking up.”

Steve hummed. “What, uh. What actually happened to me?”

Dustin sighed. “The doctors said your body essentially performed a hard reset. You’ve been running on fumes for too long. You collapsed from sheer exhaustion. At least you didn’t hit your head this time, though maybe that would’ve prevented you from losing your memory, so who fuckin’ knows.”

“Language,” Steve chided, then blinked when Dustin looked at him excitedly. “I don’t know where that came from.”

Dustin just laughed. It was only a little forced. “You’re just incapable of not being a mom.”

——————————

Robin went back in next, lightly tapping Dustin’s shoulder as she passed him in the doorway. He shook his head, and her heart sank. “He-” Dustin shook his head, bit his lip. “He thinks he and Eddie are dating. Eddie’s the only person he remembers.”

Robin gave him a little half-smile. “He’s had a crush on Eddie for a while. I didn’t realize it was this bad, but.” She shrugged. “I’ll talk to him. You call everyone else?”

“Yeah.”

She took a deep breath and walked into the room. “So,” she started. “You really don’t remember?”

Steve shook his head, eyebrows pinched. “I’m sorry. I wish I did.”

“Dustin said you remember one person?”

“Mhm. Eddie.”

“Right. And you and Eddie? What are you?”

Steve frowned even deeper. “Boyfriends. If we’re this close, shouldn’t you know that?”

Robin shrugged. “I’d like to think so. That’s why Dustin and I aren’t convinced you are dating. Maybe your memories are just… really vivid daydreams.”

“You really think so?”

Robin sighed heavily. “I don’t know what to think, Steve. Hell, I didn’t even know how bad it was until you collapsed. Some soulmate I am.”

“With a capital P,” Steve said, holding up a hand before Robin could say anything. “Sometimes certain memories are triggered. It’s… like a puzzle piece slotting into place. But I’ve got about a million more pieces missing. I can’t see what that specific piece connects to.”

Robin hums. “Okay. So you remember Eddie. And if I say Hellfire..?” Steve just frowned. “Or… Metallica?”

Steve smiled. “Yeah, I know that one.”

“Did you know that before I said it?”

Steve nodded. “Hellfire’s related to Eddie?”

Robin chuckled. “You could say that.”

“What is it?”

She laughed again. “I think I’ll let your boyfriend explain that one.”

“Even though you don’t believe we’re dating.”

Robin spread her hands. “Soulmates with a capital P, Steve. I can’t think of any reason you wouldn’t at least tell me. Especially since you know—err, knew—I’m a lesbian.”

Steve frowned. “Maybe Eddie didn’t want to? Does he know?”

“Yup.”

“Oh.” He frowned again. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

She sighed. “I’m not asking you to have all the answers. Especially now. Just… think about it, yeah?”

“I will,” he promised. “Um. Are you okay?”

“Jesus, Steve.” Robin laughed. It was only mostly hysterical. “Of course you’d still be thinking about everyone else. I’m fine. Or- I will be. You just take care of yourself, dingus.”

He chuckled. “Will do, Robbie.”

She sighed. “Another puzzle piece?” He nodded. “Alright. I’m gonna go track down Dustin and see where he’s at with all the other ankle-biters.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” She lingered for a half-second, then sighed again and walked out.

——————————

He was released two days later. Drove himself home, Robin in the passenger seat and Dustin in the back row. Dustin quizzed him about the rest of the Party the whole way home, made sure Steve knew their names forwards, backwards and upside down, as well as what everyone was like. “Max is kickass,” he said. “Like, she’ll absolutely smile in your face as she knees you in the balls. And it’s the kinda smile that strikes fear into a man. She’s awesome. And-”

“Okay,” Steve said, amused. He didn’t know how Dustin could go that long without a breath. “I’ll know what you’re talking about as soon as we get out of the car and get inside, right?”

Dustin yelped when he looked up to see them parked before scrambling out the door and running inside.

Steve grinned at Robin, who grinned back, before they made their way inside, albeit at a slower pace than Dustin had.

Steve vaguely recognized everybody, but his attention focused in on a very specific person. “Eds.”

Eddie smiled, small and soft and sweet, one of Steve’s favorites. “Heya, Stevie.”

Suddenly he couldn’t help himself. He had to be with Eddie, right then, it couldn’t wait, so he didn’t. Practically flung himself at Eddie, like he knew Eddie would catch him (he did). Attaches his mouth to Eddie’s, a silent promise, I never forgot you, flowing between them.

When they pulled back, Eddie stared at him like he’d hung the fucking sun. “You remember?” Eddie asked in a whisper.

“Never forgot,” Steve promised, at the same volume.

“What. The actual. Fuck,” Robin said. Eddie and Steve froze as they turned to face her and the rest of the Party, who were all staring with the same expression.

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered. “We forgot to tell Robin.”

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Jan behind the cut; “project sidekick”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“This is such bullshit,” Wally bites off, because it's not like he's not Wally, he's been Wally all this time, nobody could tell the fucking difference including Uncle Barry and his parents and Batman and his teachers and friends and him–except they're not, none of them are, the Flash is his uncle but he's not the Flash's nephew, he–he–

He’s not. He remembers them, but none of them remember . . . remember . . . 

It’s a different Wally West that they’re all remembering. A different Kid Flash. A different . . . 

They think he’s different. They think he’s not . . . 

He’s not Wally West to them. Not to any of them. 

He doesn’t–he doesn’t know what . . . what’s going to . . . what’s he’s going to . . . 

“We must only wait, my friend,” Kaldur says like they’re even actually friends at all, but Wally doesn’t know how to think of him as anyone else. He is Kaldur, same as–he remembers everything Kaldur remembers and he’s genetically identical to Kaldur and he’s actually technically probably more Kaldur because everything he did was something Kaldur would have, because he didn’t know the stupid difference! He’s Kaldur, just three months farther along. All he ever did was what Kaldur would’ve done. 

So he’s Kaldur. He’s more Kaldur than the real Kaldur. 

And literally no one else thinks that. No one else thinks that, and if Wally ever actually said that, they’d all think he was about to go fucking supervillain on them or something, which actually maybe would be justified, if only because supervillains get to do shit like burn down or explode or disintegrate entire fifty-three level labs and every single doctor who’s ever worked in them and also break into Belle Reve and personally vibrate Desmond’s larynx out of his fucking throat! 

It’d take longer to kill him than the heart would, and maybe Wally really is going to end up a supervillain. Maybe he’s a shitty person or he has mind control somewhere in his head that just hasn’t gotten triggered yet or– 

“I am actually very not-good at waiting, that’s kind of my whole thing is being bad at waiting, if you forgot,” Wally cuts his own thoughts off with, forcing his hands not to vibrate with speed–or Speed. “Or it’s Kid Flash’s whole thing, anyway, and my stupid ass didn’t know the difference.” 

The Flash kept looking at him like he was worried about what he was gonna do and his–and–and the Wests are gonna be so, like, upset and horrified and probably be upset with themselves, too, since it’s not like they tweaked he wasn’t really there–wasn’t their–wasn’t the same kid they’d been raising all his life, and Batman told Dick he was sorry, which–how often does Batman even do that, say he’s freakin’ sorry like that?! 

And–and the Wally who’s been in stasis on sublevel 53 for the past three months is gonna come get his life back and not know anything that’s happened or anything that’s going on, and–and–

And M’gann and Artemis are gonna be so freaked out. Like, Conner’s one thing, they came in knowing about Conner being a clone and he does, actually, look different from Superman, what with the whole “being half his physical age” thing, but them–they all look exactly like the guys whose lives they stole and maybe they do have freaky mind control in them, maybe they’re not safe to be around, maybe they’re creepy awful evil sleeper agents or–or– 

“And yet the necessity for the waiting remains,” Kaldur says gently, the total actual asshole who can only act like that ‘cuz he got cloned from the most chill and most responsible sixteen year-old who has ever walked the fucking earth, Wally is pretty sure, and he got made out of a socially-inept loser who literally no girl alive would ever look twice at and who can’t just slow down when he–! 

“Sure it does,” Dick says, then lets out a mean, bitter little laugh. It’s not a laugh Wally’s ever heard from him before. 

But he heard it when Dick told him about . . . told him about the circus, and Zucco, and . . . 

That’s not even something that actually happened to him. Not even something that happened to this Dick, which–actually, yeah, never mind, Wally will take the socially-inept loser who can’t slow down compared to remembering watching the Flying Graysons fall. Remembering watching that from their kid’s perspective, all the related thoughts and emotion and–and Dick remembers all that awful stuff, remembers losing his parents and his life and his whole world, and he doesn’t even get to feel anything about it anymore. 

He never even met the Graysons. Never lived with them or travelled with the circus; never performed in front of cheering crowds like he remembers loving, never knew any of those people, never actually felt all that rage and grief and helplessness. 

So no one’s going to think it counts, now that they know he’s not the Dick Grayson that actually did do all those things.

And now Dick’s actually lost his parents and his life and his whole world, because none of it them were ever his at all, and he remembers feeling that twice, and remembers exactly how awful it was the first time. Remembers what it did to him the first time. How it changed him, and what it made him, and . . . 

Yeah. Wally will take the socially-inept loser of a gene donor, actually. The socially-inept loser of a gene donor is looking pretty good right now.

[nicksbestie]

Hey Pooks, I have another self-indulgent request…

I’m coming up on a year clean of SH, there’s no way I could have gotten this far without my friends. I was curious if you could write a fic about Jake/Johnnie either helping the reader during the healing process or celebrating her accomplishments during recovery.

I’m sure that you have a lot of requests at the moment, but I absolutely adore your work.

-🫠

Recovery - Jake Webber

Summary : Recovery is an incredibly hard process, but your best support system are your friends <3

Pairing : Jake Webber/Reader (platonic)

Warnings : mentions of self harm, read at your own discretion!!!!

Word Count : 829

A/N : this was such a heartwarming request :( i'm so proud of you anon!!! as someone coming up on two years of being sh-free next week, i know firsthand how difficult this can be!! you're doing great, keep going!!! <3 to anyone struggling or needing someone to talk to, my anon box is always open, and so are my dms. you're never alone!!

Addiction is so difficult. It is arguably one of the hardest things that a human can go through. And with that, recovery becomes nearly impossible in a lot of cases. 

You had been struggling with a self harming addiction for a long time, and had finally gotten onto the stable path of recovery. You knew firsthand just how difficult this was, and had fallen into many relapses before you had gotten to the point that you were at right now. If someone had told you a couple of years ago that you would be here, right now, you probably would’ve laughed in their face. 

You knew there was no way that you could’ve gotten to the point that you were at now without your closest friends. They had been your support system through everything, not turning away or ever making you feel bad about it when you had been deep in addiction. They had always been caring and loving, making sure that they were there whenever you needed or asked them to be.

You could think of so many times off of the top of your head when they had genuinely be the best people in your life. Your family wasn’t incredibly supportive, blaming you more than anything else, so that had left you with just your friends. Grateful didn’t even come close to covering how you felt for them. 

There had been a time when you had been relapsing, badly, and trying to hide it, feeling that there was the chance of your friends being upset with you, the anxiety and shame of what you’d done completely clouding your judgment. In your panic, you’d forgotten that Jake was due to be coming over that afternoon, and when he let himself in, you freaked out.

However, instead of the angry reaction that you had been anxiously expecting, Jake had been gentle, kind, and overall more than you had ever hoped for. You’d never had someone sit down with you, letting you cry your feelings out, and help you clean up. He sat in the bathroom with you, keeping gentle pressure on your wounds, halfway hugging you in between adjusting his hold, and making sure that you were sitting steady. He’d gently helped you bandage up the cuts, making sure that all of them were clean.

His hands, despite being large, were incredibly accurate and soft. You didn’t feel any excessive pain, but that may have been due to how out of it you were. You’d stopped crying by this point, but you were now exhausted, and didn’t feel good. Jake cleaned up the blood with no complaints, waving you off when you tried to help him. After that, he had pulled you into another hug, before gently settling you on the couch, cuddling with you for a while and making sure you ate something.

He refused to leave your side for many days after that. He stayed next to you, making sure that you were aways comfortable, had something to eat and drink, and took your meds, because he could tell that you hadn’t been taking them. He ordered food whenever you needed some, and never made you do more than lifting a finger to do anything. He had been your biggest supporter for years, but this week really brought the two of you even closer than you had ever thought you would be.

There had been another time where you had called him over, desperate for someone to distract you, and you swear he had never driven his car faster. He had stayed on the phone with you the entire time, getting there as quickly as possible, and had wrapped his arms around you, sitting with you to make sure you couldn’t do anything drastic. There were a ton of days that you would swear he saved your life, and both of those incidents fell under those days.

So that lead you to now, tears on your waterline, threatening to fall as you stood inside your front door, seeing a large balloon blown up in the shape of a “1” in your kitchen, Jake standing there with a huge smile on his face and a cake. He had promised you months ago that he was going to celebrate your year anniversary of being clean when you got there, but you hadn’t thought you would ever get there. You hadn’t thought that he would remember either, so you were shocked when you walked in to this. 

He immediately hugged you, making sure you didn’t cry, and began to cut the cake. It had “One Year!” written on it in curly red icing, and he passed it to you with a small card. It had his scrawly handwriting on the inside of it.

“I’m so proud of you!! One year down, many to go. You’re incredible.”

You had a huge smile on your face by this point, incredibly proud of yourself as well. 

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

~ taglist : @jake-and-johnnies-slut @gvf23 @elliem505 @ilydeaky @maryx2xx @oobleoob @aemrsy @blahbel668 @mystic-maniac @maddytheweird @707xn @jasperthefriendlyghostt @camille-1019 @anaavolibila @not-phone-guy

~ if you'd like to be added to my johnnie and jake taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!! <3

[bobohu4eva]

Ecstasy

Part 6 - Cry for Love

Genre: Soloist!Baekhyun x Reader, angst, fluff, smut 18+ audiences only MDNI

WC: 5.7k

Tag List: @nana-banana @xzyxbbh @greasywall @endzii23 @scopoliax @silent-potato23-blog @baekyeonoreo

Warnings for this chapter: smut (non explicit), alcohol consumption, drug use

Masterlist

Addiction (noun): Disorder characterized by compulsive engagement in rewarding stimuli despite adverse consequences

“You’re a dumbass, you know that right?” 

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned it. I know I fucked up. I don’t even know what to say to her anymore.”

Chanyeol let out a long sigh, trying to muster up some sympathy for his friend's predicament, but finding it quite difficult. He’d seen it coming, more or less. Something terrible was bound to happen with how reckless Baekhyun was being. He took a sip of his beer before setting it back down on the bar, doing his best to at least look sorry for his friend when he glanced back at him. 

“You’ve tried calling her right?”

“No, well not since that day at least. I don’t know if I should. Her friend told me not to, and I get it. But I really do want to see her again, and apologize.” 

The whole time Baekhyun stared, seemingly into nothingness. He hated how much he missed her, even after only a few days. 

“You should at least call to apologize, you owe her that much.”

“What if she doesn’t want to hear from me at all? I don’t want to make things even worse.” 

“Just call. The worst she can do is not pick up.” 

“And if she does? What would I even say?”

“The truth.” 

“No fucking way.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“You don’t say.” 

Baekhyun chugged down his drink, getting the bartender's attention and ordering another round. He was already drunk, but it still wasn’t enough to erase what he felt. 

“Why did you freak out so bad? I mean she told you she didn’t mean it. I know acid is one hell of a drug but jesus. You were way too goddamn harsh.” 

“I almost said it back.” He responded, staring blankly at the counter before him. 

Chanyeol's eyes went wide. 

“I was so upset that that even crossed my mind. And if I had said it, who fucking knows what would’ve happened.”

“Well, do you?” 

Baekhyun just glared at him, refusing to say anything. 

“You clearly care about her a lot, I don’t know why you can’t just admit that. I think she could be really good for you, if you just got over your own bullshit.”

Baekhyun leaned forward until his forehead was on the bar, both hands on the back of his neck. He couldn’t remember ever resenting himself so deeply, and that was saying something. 

Chanyeol was right, and they both knew it. 

The guilt made it hard to do anything more than drink himself into numbness. He'd probably ruined any chance he had at something real with her, even if that in itself also made him uncomfortable. As much as he wanted to try and fix things, he knew deep down that he'd probably just end up hurting her again anyway. In the end though, the side of him that still wanted her was much stronger, and far less rational.

Every time he thought about that day, and how she must've felt after he kicked her out of his apartment, his chest would get tight, the dread quickly becoming more than he could handle. He’d had an awful time himself, the trip turning downright terrifying, and he’d been inside his own apartment the whole time. Outside, alone, she must’ve felt she was in a living nightmare. He was disgusted with himself, with how cruel he’d become, and all because of a few words that she didn’t even mean. 

Eventually he decided that it would be worse not to say anything. Even if she didn’t want to hear from him, he had to at least try to tell her how sorry he was, otherwise the guilt would keep chipping away at his sanity until it consumed him whole. 

It took a while for him to get to the point where he actually had the strength to pick up the phone and pull up her contact. Even then, he just sat in his apartment, staring at his phone, debating with himself. He wasn’t sure what made him more nervous, the idea of talking to her after he’d fucked up so badly, or the very real possibility that she would simply decline the call all together. Losing her completely was more terrifying than he was willing to admit to himself. 

Finally, he called. His heart thumped rapidly in his chest as he listened to it ring, trying to take deep breaths to calm himself with little success. When she picked up, his heart nearly stopped. He tried to say something, but his voice failed him.

“Baekhyun?” 

“Hi.” He eventually managed to get out, painfully aware of how stupid he sounded. He took another deep breath, finally gathering himself a bit before continuing. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

She didn’t say anything. She could hear the lack of consistency in his voice. 

“I don’t know what to say, I’m just so fucking sorry. I know I fucked up.” 

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why did you kick me out?” 

“I don’t know.” 

He heard her sigh in disappointment. It was a lie of course, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her the truth. 

“Look, I appreciate the apology, but I really don’t want to do this over the phone. If you have anything you need to say to me, I’d rather hear it in person.” 

She hung up before he could respond, and he wasted no time getting into his car to drive to her place. 

Her pain had been unbearable. Even after several days sober his harshness stayed with her, bringing with it a constant dull ache in her chest. She barely ate or slept, but knowing that he at least seemed to feel bad about what he’d done gave her a bit of relief.

Despite Suhyun’s insistence that she cut him off completely, she’d still been waiting, hoping to hear something. She wanted an apology, an explanation, something that would help her feel a bit better, and she wanted him to look her in the eyes as he said it.

The knock on her door, not even 30 minutes after hanging up the phone, came as a shock. 

On the other side, Baekhyun worried he might actually pass out. He assumed that she would tell him how awful he was and then send him right back home, and he thought he was mentally prepared for that, but once he was actually there he realized how wrong he’d been. The ground seemed to sway beneath him, his stomach twisting, threatening to expel the lunch he'd just had. 

The door swung open and they met eyes, Baekhyun bracing himself for the worst.

She let him in, and his expression was something she’d never seen before. His eyes were glassy, the anxiety behind them clear as day. She could see the nervous tension in the way he fidgeted, hands clammy, heart racing. 

His eyes squeezed shut, and he mustered up all the courage he could, though still feeling utterly pitiful.

“I know you probably hate me and never want to see me again, but I need you to know how awful I feel about what I did. I can’t even put into words how sorry I am.” He eventually said, barely keeping it together. 

To his shock, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. 

Tears soon dampened her forehead, feeling the quiet tremors of his chest as he fell apart. He held her close, cradling her against his chest, the closeness allowing his body to fully relax for the first time in nearly a week. Somehow though, he felt even guiltier than if she’d told him off, at least he would've deserved that.

 As hurt as she might’ve been, she’d still missed him. That day, before everything went downhill, he'd shown her a kind of happiness she hadn’t even known was possible. And even before that, when she was with him, the good moments were so powerful that they easily overshadowed all the bad. Nobody else had ever made her feel that before. 

She didn’t want whatever they had to end, even though she knew logically that it would be idiotic to forgive him after he’d been so cruel. She cared about him too much, she was too attached, she still wanted him despite it all, and that was probably the worst part. Despite how terrible he'd made her feel that day, the potential for good was still there. The good times she'd had with him were some of the best of her life, and giving that up wasn't easy. For her, it was impossible. The highs were so high, that the lows were somehow still worth dealing with. 

It didn’t make sense, he'd been absolutely certain that she'd be furious. 

“How do you not hate me right now? Are you really not mad at me?” 

She looked up at him, one hand coming to cup his damp cheek, tears of her own coming to mirror his. It was strange to see him of all people cry, but oddly comforting, too. It told her just how much he regretted what he’d done, that he cared, that he hated how badly he’d hurt her. He’d never shown that sort of vulnerability before, the cool facade he usually put on, now completely shattered. It gave her the reassurance she'd been craving so badly. Maybe forgiving him wouldn't be so dumb after all, since he'd hopefully never hurt her like that again. 

“I don’t hate you. I’m just glad you’re sorry, I was so worried that you were still mad at me, since I didn’t hear from you. I thought I ruined everything.” 

He quickly shook his head. “Of course I’m not mad at you, if anyone ruined anything it was me. I never had a right to be angry with you in the first place, I was being completely awful and irrational.” 

She couldn’t help the small smile that crept its way onto her lips, finally assured that he didn’t harbor any resentment towards her for what she’d said, that he felt genuine remorse. 

“I was afraid to call after that day because I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to hear from me, or if it would be best to just leave you alone. Your friend told me not to contact you, and I can see where she’s coming from.”

“When did you talk to my friend?”

“I called you later that day. Once I snapped out of my own bullshit I realized how unsafe it was for you to be outside alone like that and I wanted to make sure you were okay, and apologize. She answered and told me not to contact you anymore, that I’ve fucked up your life enough already, and she’s probably right about that.” 

“She never even mentioned that you called.” She pouted, making a mental note to call Suhyun out next time they met up. 

“I’m glad she was there. I was so scared something happened to you, at least when she picked up I knew you were safe.” 

“You know, I might not hate you, but I am still mad at you. I wish you could at least tell me why you reacted like that.” 

As forgiving as she was, the awfulness of that day was impossible to forget. The drug caused her fear and confusion to materialize in everything she saw, victimizing her until the high eventually faded, and the horror of it stuck with her. That was something she couldn't let go so easily.

He ran one hand through his hair, and when he didn’t answer right away she pulled him along with her to sit down on the couch. 

“I wish I could explain it to you, something in me just.. snapped. There’s a reason I don’t do relationships, that kind of stuff, it fucks with my head.” 

She swallowed, painfully reminded of that hard truth. “Why?” 

He shook his head, if he tried to explain everything they’d probably be there all day, and she’d never be able to see him the same way again. He wouldn’t be able to get it all out without more tears, either. That was a can of worms he just couldn’t get into.

“You should’ve taken it as a compliment you know, you fucked me so good I thought I was in love with you.” 

He forced a smile, but even that caused something unpleasant to twist up inside him. 

“If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you, just tell me and I’ll do it.” 

She shrugged. It was clear that he'd never be able to give her what she really wanted anyway. 

Still, at least he cared for her. He wouldn't have gotten so emotional if she didn't mean something to him. 

“Are you busy today?” He asked. 

“Not really, no.” 

“I could order us something to eat, or we could go somewhere, whatever you want. I just- I missed you.” 

‘I missed you.’

Even if it would be short lived, she wanted to enjoy the new sensitivity he was finally showing her, so she agreed. 

They stayed at her place, ordering in and opening up a bottle of wine. It wasn’t long at all until they both settled comfortably into the couch, still more relieved than anything. She’d missed him just as much. 

She’d grown used to the confident, wild, sexy side of him, but now, something about him felt fundamentally different. Maybe it was the fact that she’d seen him cry, but whatever it was, it felt warmer, softer, a side of him she knew very few people got to see. 

They spent hours on her couch together in comfortable silence, the show on the TV long forgotten as they kissed and held each other. She’d laid herself atop his chest, one hand landing on her waist, and the other at the nape of her neck, keeping her lips glued to his own. 

His touch was gentle, enjoying the warmth and softness of her skin after having missed her so much. The path his hands took across her back, shoulders, and neck full of adoration. He never ventured any further, because it didn't feel appropriate, he didn't want her to think that he'd only come back for sex. Just getting to kiss and touch her again already felt like a small miracle. 

However that didn't stop his body from reacting to her, now that she lay flush to his chest between his parted legs. As she deepened the kisses her body sunk into him even further, and she felt the line of hardness beneath his sweats. When she rocked her pelvis into him, he let out a groan, hands holding firmly onto her hips.

“Fuck, don't do that.” 

Their eyes met, and she pouted at him, “Why not?”

“I don't think this is a good idea, I came over here to apologize, not try to get you to sleep with me again.” 

As he spoke her lips attached themselves to his neck, leaving a path of soft kisses from his jaw down to the collar of his shirt. “And if I want to anyway?” 

She pulled his shirt down a bit and sucked on the skin of his collarbone, eliciting another moan. 

“You're sure about this?” 

“You said you wanted to make it up to me, right?” 

Part of her was skeptical, too, but as always, her desire for him overpowered any trace of caution. His touch, his voice, it all drew her in beyond the bounds of reason. She just wanted to feel close to him. Laying there together innocently had been nice, but she inevitably slipped into more troublesome desires. 

Baekhyun didn't respond, instead, his hands finally slid beneath the threshold of her clothes. The warmth of her skin beneath his hands caused him to sigh. He, too, had missed this.  

The sex felt like an apology. Where he’d been hungry, even desperate, in the past, he now took his time. It wasn’t one night stand sex, or even meaningless fling sex. It was the kind of sex that happens when two people know and care about each other. She let him set the pace, and he decided to be slow and intentional, he set that tone. The praises that passed his lips lost their teasing edge, his gratitude stronger than his usual desire to frustrate her.  More than anything he wanted to savor this, to show her his devotion the only way he knew how. 

Several orgasms later, they both collapsed into a pile of tangled, sweaty limbs on her couch. Baekhyun still refused to let go, keeping her in his arms for as long as she would allow, which turned out to be a good long while, much to his delight. 

Baekhyun hadn’t intended to spend the entire day with her in such a way, he was just so relieved that she didn’t hate him. Somehow his head ended up on her lap, and when she began to play with his hair, a satisfied sigh left him. He'd always loved the feeling, and how easily it would relax him. 

Several sleepless nights had left him exhausted, and as her hands stayed in his hair, he drifted off to sleep, resting more peacefully than he had in a long time. 

His sleeping face brought a smile to her own. She didn’t move, letting him use her as a pillow and nap through the afternoon. Every once in a while she would notice a change in his expression, brows knit in what seemed like distress, and she wondered what he could be dreaming about. So much of his mind was still a mystery to her, one that she desperately wanted to solve. 

When he eventually woke back up it was already dark outside, and he figured it was time to head home. He didn't want to leave, and even thought about asking her to let him spend the night, but after everything it just didn't feel right. He didn't want to overstay his welcome. 

“Has anyone talked to you about the anniversary party yet?” He asked as he got his things together. 

She shook her head. 

“It’s a fairly big thing the company does every year, it’s mostly for artists and higher ups, and I know I’m going, so I was wondering if you wanted to come as my date?” 

‘Date’

That one word was so unexpected coming from him, she found herself momentarily frozen. 

“Uh.. sure, yeah. When is it?”

He told her the details, and she still couldn't shake the implications of that one word. She didn't want to get her hopes up, but she wondered if maybe he was finally ready to at least hint at something more serious between them. 

The day of he picked her up as usual, noticing the fitted suit he wore as she got into his car. She knew it was a rather formal affair, but he looked so handsome, she still became a little nervous. 

“You look beautiful,” He murmured, looking her up and down before leaning in for a quick kiss. 

The event was held in the largest ballroom of a luxury hotel full of opulent decorations, and even had a gorgeous outdoor area lit up for the approaching holidays. She'd worn one of her favorite dresses, but even so, she felt a little silly walking in together, arm in arm with him. The guest list was full of a-list celebrities, both from their company, as well as some others, along with various executives. She felt all the familiar uncertainties from the first night she'd met him rush back. 

He must've sensed how tense she became, squeezing her hand and giving her a reassuring smile. The softness of it had her leaning further into him. 

She looked up at him, his profile outlined by the lights of the party, and she remembered just who she was there with. And not only that, but he'd said it himself, she was his date. 

It emboldened her, knowing that no matter Baekhyun's history or reputation, she was the one on his arm, and the one he’d be going home with after. 

They headed towards the bar for a drink, and she still remained quiet, too deep in thought to get anything out.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” He told her, “let's just try to have a good time, yeah?” 

He pulled out a chair for her and they took a seat, each ordering their first round of the night. Baekhyun did his best to lighten the mood, complimenting her, joking around and flirting all in an attempt to see her smile. And it worked for the most part, though the constant interruptions always pulled her right back into her insecurities.

Every few minutes someone would come up to him, and he would talk to them as if she wasn't even there. By the third time, she started to wonder why she'd been invited at all. 

She'd been zoning out, staring at the array of bottles behind the bar when she heard her name. When she looked up, she saw a familiar face. 

Joohyun. The same woman he'd ditched her for at Chanyeol’s birthday. 

Baekhyun had introduced her, and Joohyun raised an eyebrow at the sight of them. 

“You're here together?” Joohyun asked, a glimpse of something sinister in her eyes. Her face, beautiful as she was, did little to hide the ugliness apparent underneath. 

She started to nod but Baekhyun spoke up first. “We're just friends.” 

Joohyun smirked, letting her hand rest on his shoulder. “Well, it's always good to see you.” 

She turned to walk away, and as Baekhyun looked back at his date, it became apparent how pissed she was. 

She chugged down the rest of her drink, slamming the glass down on the bar and getting up. Baekhyun rolled his eyes, following her. 

“Really _____?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I can see you're mad, don't you think you're being a little dramatic?” 

“I thought I was your date! We sure as hell aren't just friends, and for you to say that to her of all people? After what happened on Chanyeol’s birthday? Really?” 

“What else would we be if not friends, hm? As far as I'm concerned we are just friends.” 

“I know you care about me as more than a friend” 

He narrowed his eyes at her, a bitter look overtaking his face. “Do I?” 

She scoffed, “You're unbelievable.” 

With that she turned, walking away but he took hold of her wrist, pulling her back towards him. “Where do you think you're going?” 

“Home. I don't want to be here anymore.” 

“No the fuck you're not.” 

“Baekhyun, let go of me.”

He didn’t. “You’re being ridiculous.” 

“No. I’m sick of you being hot and cold with me. You don’t get to treat me like that.” 

His grip on her gave way, but she didn’t leave yet. His lips pressed together as his eyes squeezed shut, a heavy sigh leaving him. 

“Okay. I get it. But please, stay. You don't have to talk to me. Just let me take you home later.” 

“Take me home with you? Seriously?” 

“It doesn’t have to be with me. I can just drop you off.” 

She glared at him, almost scoffing again, but decided to just turn and walk away. When he took hold of her arm again, she glared. “If I’m staying, you could at least let me get another drink.” 

He watched her sit down by herself, ordering something that looked strong. 

As she sipped on her drink, she scanned the room, hoping she'd at least recognize someone. She'd almost given up, accepting that she'd probably end up drinking alone until Baekhyun was ready to go, but then she felt a tap on her shoulder. 

Chanyoel’s smile was a welcome sight, as he sat himself down next to her at the bar. 

“Hi! How are you? Are you here with Baekhyun?” He asked. 

“Hi, yeah. Unfortunately.” 

“Why's that unfortunate?” 

She shook her head, “You were right about him, I fear.” 

Chanyeol hummed in acknowledgment, it wasn't hard for him to imagine what could be going on. 

“He's being an ass?” 

“Yeah. I just don't get it. One day he's being really sweet, and then he turns around and acts like that was all bullshit. I'm tired of it. I wanted to go home, but for some reason he wants me to stay.” 

“So? You can still leave. Who cares what he wants.” 

She took a long sip of her drink. 

“I don't want to make him mad.” 

Chanyeol looked a bit confused, but still nodded. “Well, I'm here if you want company. It's a great party, it would be a shame to spend the whole night sulking at the bar.” 

“Thank you.” 

Soon his drink arrived, and he clinked the glass against hers. 

Baekhyun was nowhere to be seen as the two made light conversation, and she was grateful to take her mind off him for a bit. 

Chanyeol, now a bit tipsy, and knowing well that she wasn't pleased with his friend, seized the opportunity. He wasn't usually much of a flirt, but with her it came easily. 

His compliments cheered her up enough that eventually even his dumb jokes brought a smile to her face. When both drinks were gone and he asked her to dance, she gladly accepted. 

They stood, but he pulled her aside before they could make it to the dance floor. Now that they had a bit more privacy, he pulled something out of his pocket. 

Pills. The same ones from the night of his birthday. 

“Do you want one?” He asked, popping one for himself. She considered it for a moment, and with the night being fairly young, and Baekhyun still lingering in the back of her mind, she decided to go for it. His being a jerk didn't mean she couldn't still enjoy herself. 

Dancing with Chanyeol was nice. He was respectful, his hands never venturing further than her hips or waist. He was taller, and overall larger than Baekhyun, which was probably the biggest difference she felt between the two men. She liked that about him, that he made her feel distinctly different than Baekhyun did. Baekhyun was all bold words and risky touches, while Chanyeol was quieter, more cautious. Baekhyun's hands were slender, softer, when they held onto her, delicate in their teasing touches. Chanyeol’s were calloused, stronger, anchoring her without demanding anything more. 

The change of pace was well appreciated, even more so as the drug further loosened her up. She knew that Chanyeol was interested in her, sexually, romantically, or otherwise, but she didn't care. She knew he wouldn't cross any lines, especially not with Baekhyun nearby. 

Eventually the drug in tandem with the crowd of bodies on the dance floor forced the two to catch a breather, ending up outside on a large balcony overlooking the city. It was quieter there, with only a few other people tolerating the cool breeze.

As she looked out at the city, and then back at Chanyeol, she had to fight back a grin. Here she was, on a beautiful, opulent hotel balcony overlooking one of the coolest cities in the world, with a devastatingly handsome rockstar at her side. Baekhyun was the last thing on her mind at that point, she was fully enraptured by the party, the drug, and the man now stepping closer to her. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked, though he could see it on her face, how happy she was. She didn’t say anything, her smile speaking for itself. 

“This is nice.” She said, “Really, really nice.” 

Chanyeol nodded in agreement, and when their eyes met this time, neither could seem to look away. They both moved closer, the distance growing smaller and smaller, and out of instinct more than anything else, she threw her arms around his neck. 

With the Seoul skyline as their backdrop, their lips met. Chanyeol took half a step back at first, surprised by her boldness, though he quickly leaned back into her. The kiss was sweet, just testing the waters, enjoying the new sensation amidst the rush of the high. 

When Baekhyun shoved his friend away from her, she initially gasped. But once the surprise wore off, the abundance of happy chemicals in her brain kept her from feeling even the slightest bit upset. 

Baekhyun wanted a reaction. He wanted her to yell, so he could yell back, so he could tell her and Chanyeol off for being such terrible friends. When she instead started to giggle, his blood began to boil. 

“Are you two fucking serious?” 

Chanyeol stayed silent, wide eyed as he watched everything unfold before him. He was relieved that his friend's attention was more focused on her. 

“Are you serious? You said so yourself, we're just friends. I can kiss whoever I want.” 

The lightness in her tone, her unbothered smile, it taunted him, mocked him.

His eyes turned to Chanyeol. “Did you give her drugs?” 

His mouth opened to respond, but the words seemed to get stuck somewhere along the way. 

“Don't worry.” She said, “It's not LSD. I’m not about to say more stupid shit I don't mean.” 

Baekhyun’s eyes dug into his friends, and Chanyeol knew that he was holding back. He knew his friend well enough to know when a line had been crossed. 

“We're leaving.” He ordered, taking tight hold of her hand and pulling her towards the doors. 

She gave Chanyeol a half-assed goodbye, frowning, but didn't resist as Baekhyun pulled them both back to his car. 

“You're being an asshole again.” She commented, her tone still far too nonchalant for Baekhyun’s taste. 

While she'd been off with Chanyeol, Baekhyun found a friend who offered him a generous hit of coke. The drug only amplified his shaky, delirious rage, his grip on the steering wheel tightening at her words.

“I'm being an asshole? Really?” 

“Yea, I was having fun. We aren't together, you've made that abundantly clear, so I don't see what the problem is.” 

“Don't play fucking innocent we both know you only did that to piss me off.” 

“And why does it piss you off? Hmm?” She really hadn't done it with any malicious intent. She’d just wanted to have a good time and one thing led to another, but in her drug induced cloud of smug confidence and brutal honesty she continued on taunting him. “Because I know you care about me. You wouldn't have shown up at my apartment in tears the other day if you didn't care about me.” 

At the next red light he looked over at her, the tension in his jaw and forehead clearly evident in his expression. “You will never be anything more to me than a friend and a good fuck. However you think I might feel won’t change that.” 

His words stung, but she wouldn’t let him know that. “Then you don’t get to freak out when I kiss another guy.” 

Baekhyun didn’t respond, but she could see the anger, he looked like he wanted to punch something. 

“This is fucked.” He eventually muttered. 

“You don’t say.” 

“No, you don’t get it. This is bad.” 

She just rolled her eyes, and tried to concentrate on the city passing by on the other side of the window. 

She assumed he would be taking her back home to her apartment, and yet as he kept driving, it became clear that he was doing nothing of the sort. 

“Baekhyun, where are we going? You said you would drop me off.” 

“‘You’re staying with me tonight.” 

“No the fuck I’m not?! I want to sleep in my own bed, far away from you. Turn around.” 

“No.” 

She stared at him, bewildered, but he refused to even look her way. His eyes remained fixed to the road, which was quickly approaching his building. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” 

Still, he didn’t react, not until the pair were pulling into his building’s parking garage. He parked, turned off the engine, and locked the doors. 

“I need you to stay with me tonight.” His hands remained on the wheel as he said it, anchoring himself. He stared straight ahead at the concrete wall. 

“What?”

“Please, just spend the night. You can go straight to sleep. I won't bother you. But just, stay with me. Please.” 

He finally looked at her. Maybe it was the drug, but the way he looked at her made something shift. He wasn’t angry, he was scared. 

“Why should I?” 

“Maybe you’re right. I know I can’t give you what you want, but I do care.”

“That’s not fair.” 

He shook his head, wearing a pained expression as he got out of the car, opening her door and taking her hand to follow him. She did, though she still wasn’t sure why. 

“Baekhyun, why the hell can’t I just get an uber home? It's not like we're gonna fuck so I don’t see the point in coming up.” 

His hand was suddenly yanking on hers, pulling her close in an instant. He held her face in his hands, barely giving her time to take a breath before his lips were crashing into hers. 

It was messy, needy and desperate. Baekhyun quickly pushed his tongue past her lips, tasting the lingering liquor from earlier in the night, combined with the flavor he was already addicted to. Her. 

“Stop talking.” He whispered into the space between their lips when he’d finally had his fill. She pouted a little, but didn’t challenge him. 

The rest of the night was silent. They went up to his apartment together, and went to bed, without sharing another word. She was getting tired anyway, and the drug made it difficult to care all that much about whatever chaos seemed to be going on in Baekhyun’s head. 

When they laid down together, he pulled her in close, so close it was almost suffocating. His face pressed into the crown of her head, inhaling the clean scent of her shampoo, feeling something inside him twist into an uncomfortable knot. Still, he didn’t let go. If anything, he held on tighter. 

His own words from earlier in the night repeated over and over in his head, until he passed out with her still wrapped firmly around him. 

This is fucked. This is bad.  

Really, really bad. 

[readerwithsalt]

I think Hazel should’ve gone with Nico instead down to Tartarus. Without a prophecy or quest bc Nico and Hazel don’t play by the rule book.

Then we could’ve gotten an adorable underworld sibling bonding book with both of them hilariously being unaware of modern stuff. And telling each other stuff they’ve learned.

They ditch both of their boyfriends who are freaking out because they don’t know where they snuck off to. And since Nico said in HoH that when he and Hazel shared power that anything felt possible, they truly believe they can succeed.

(Also Hazel understands death and wouldn’t be complaining every five seconds like Will was. Maybe it would’ve been more original and less percabeth 2.0 (but worse)

It begins with Nico leaving Camp Jupiter, having visited Hazel (for what he believes could be the last time) and telling Will he would be back in a week or so. A lie Nico tells to keep his boyfriend from coming after him to Tartarus (way more in character of him lol) as he believes a child of Apollo would easily be snuffed out down there.

Nico realizes he’s throwing a good possible future away by sneaking out to do this, but the nightmares have become so twisted and unbearably disturbing that he fears he’s going to lose his mind either way if he doesn’t manage to find the person calling out his name every night.

He also doesn’t like when others are left behind.

Since Will has insisted Nico not use shadowtravel to get back to New York from California, Nico says he’s going to take the train instead.

But Hazel KNOWS someone is off. Knows Nico is hiding something. Something that causes her brothers eyes to tinge red when he hugs her, gives her a wobbly goodbye, and squeezes just a bit too tight. Something that causes the paper thin smile he gives her when she sees him off to board his train.

Something that inexplicably makes her sneak onto that train behind him.

Upon Nico putting his stuff away in the closet of his train compartment and finding a head of cinnamon brown curls say ‘ouch’ when he accidentally throws his suitcase on top of a stowaway sister, being mad is a bit of an understatement…

When Hazel knowingly questions why he’s so upset at her, Nico suddenly has no words.

They eat in the trains dining room, Chinese noodles with strangely large fortune cookies that they save for later.

Hazel doesn’t manage to get anything out of Nico as they sit side by side next to a window, watching the world whoosh by and making idle chatter that Nico only seems to be half heartedly replying to. Seeing her brothers zoned out gaze, thin hands shaking slightly, the ever present tinge of red and fear ringing his large dark eyes, Hazel knows this is something more than wrong.

If the bravest demigod she’s ever met looks this terrified, to her it can only mean one thing.

Her suspicion is proven correct when her and Nico crack open their fortune cookies from dinner and instead of a thin piece of white with a generic quote on the paper… two small black parchments with gold lettering come out instead.

Two warnings. From what god? They don’t know.

Hazel’s questioning dies on her tongue when she sees the thin lines of tears falling from her brothers eyes. She doesn’t ask him anything else that night, just wraps a hug around him as frail shoulders shake in her arms.

The next day Nico acts as if nothing happened and asks her if frank knows she’s okay which she sheepishly replies that he probably doesn’t even know where she is. Nico says the same about Will, and they decide to not tell their current boyfriends anything yet.

Yet…. After the incident of last night and the fortune cookie parchment mentioning a place that hazel has definitely heard of before, she knows exactly what Nico is planning.

And she’s not letting anything happen to him as long as she’s alive. Even if Nico insists on pretending Hazel doesn’t know anything.

After the long train ride and Nico questioning this one random passenger for an hour about the strange gaming device in his hands (a Nintendo lol) and the siblings chatting about mundane things happening in their camps; they finally are in Manhattan.

Hazel is now done with letting Nico pretend.

Before she can get a word out the word ‘No’ has already passed her brothers lips. They fight. Their first actual fight ever. One that ends in sobs wrecking through Nicos body and pangs of guilt, sadness, and anger piercing Hazels heart.

But one thing rises above them all:

Protectiveness.

After making up and Nico realizing Hazels not ever going to back down given the look in her eyes, he realizes he doesn’t have a say in this. She is coming with him whether he likes it or not. Fear plummets in his stomach.

After a trip to Target for food and supplies for the trip that neither of them currently want to think about because what they are planning to do is… insane. Literally insane. But as Nico remembers that feeling of the time he and Hazel shared their power that one time, a thread of hope starts to weave in his heart. Psychotic hope, but still hope nonetheless.

They shadowtravel to Central Park, Nico not feeling nearly as woozy with Hazels help. He also delightfully finds out that coffee seems to cure the fatigue from using that side of his powers lol.

They manage to open the doors of Orpheus’ by ‘borrowing’ a guys phone as they see him jog by, and play some random song called ‘into the dark’ (by death cab for cuties lol) from the guys playlist holding it up to the opening.

The song sounds like another warning. They both ignore it.

They travel down dark steps, hands clasped. They talk in the quiet empty smelling air, comfortable in the underground silence. Until faint light hits their faces. The ever constant line of fresh souls lead them to Charons boat where they are taken to the land of the dead.

They now must avoid detection from their father at all costs. Nicos not worried about Charon tattling on them to Hades since he doesn’t get paid enough anyway (lol). Nico takes Hazel to meet the trogs new home down in the underworld (one thing I liked in tsats).

Hazel adores them and their funny outfits.

The trogs tell Nico that his ‘really deep tunnel’ he requested they dig is almost done, and Hazel is hurt that Nicos been planning this so long without telling her or anybody. They make Nico and Hazel spend the night with them before they go and they play with the baby trogs and dance together, trying to forget what they’re going to do tomorrow. They fall asleep to the sound of baby trogs giggling next to them.

The next day Nico attempts to sneak away from Hazel one more time and Hazel explodes at him. Anger making her say some things she doesn’t want to and Nico apologizing profusely but saying he’s angry at himself for allowing her to come with him.

They are interrupted by the trogs leader saying the Tunnel Into the Dark is finished. They can feel the intense suction of The Pit even from several feet away. Memories of the first time Nico was sucked down threaten to spill over and embarrassingly makes him want to run and hide somewhere.

But he feels Hazels hand in his and that strange, wonderful feeling of intense power. And love. And then they are straddling a boat the trogs pull from the river of forgotten dreams (the Styx I think) and with one final push… they are falling.

On the boat it feels like they’re floating.

They fall for a very long time. But Nico notices it’s not as long as the first time. Or maybe it doesn’t feel that long bc someone is here beside him.

They use their shared geokinisis powers to make an enormous slide of bones, black dirt, and stone.

When the boat hits the ground Nico almost gets flung face first into the Phlegethon river. They drink from it and begin the search.

They devastatingly find out the voice was never Bob bc Bob was absorbed into tartarus’s breastplate (like in actual canon HoH) but that it was something else entirely.

Something that makes Nico perhaps the angriest he’s ever been.

They find Jason’s soul down there. Something that shocks both Nico and Hazel to the core. Nico thinks it’s a trick but soon can tell that the soul that is looking at him so coldly and unfamiliar is actually Jason.

A different Jason. One with hatred illuminating every thread of his form.

That’s why Nico didn’t know where Jason’s spirit had gone. It had been intercepted by something and Jason has turned into a mania like his mother. A spirit that fumes on hatred and forgotten dreams. The one thing he never wanted to be.

Nico cries over the horrid inevitable fate of Bob and promises that he will ALWAYS be remembered. He doesn’t have much time to think on this though because right now a livid son of Jupiter is rising higher and higher above Nico and Hazel, the threat is obvious.

In Jason’s manic state he blames Nico for not checking on him and seeing that he got a peaceful afterlife and greives the fact that Piper and Leo and Nico ‘never bothered’ to attend his funeral. He blames the gods, his father especially, for being unworthy of their demigod children. He blames the underworlds justice system not following up on his missing soul and dismissing his entire life as if it was nothing.

As if he was never a hero. Never anything at all.

Nicos is crushed, but realizes that Jason’s being manipulated by something. A dream demon that wanted to trap Nico the entire time in order to consume his energy/power and shadow travel out of his prison and into the mortal world bc it would’ve taken him years to get out otherwise.

The dream demon used its powers to intercept Jason’s soul thanks to Caligulas cursed blade that had killed him, and reached inside his mind to find out about Nico and figure out the best way to get Nico to come back to his worst nightmare.

And now that Hazel and Nico are both there that’s double the power to consume.

Turns out the entire thing was simply about a selfish monster playing with demigods. A tale as old as the beginning of mythology.

The demon taunts them saying he used Jason - son of the King of the Gods - as a little toy in order to easily bring his meal to him. Remarking how easy and quick it was to bait someone like Nico.

Someone who can never leave someone behind.

And Hazel, how easy it was to get her to follow her brother. Taunting that she’s just as stupid, gullible, and selfless…

The children of the underworld snap.

And all Hades breaks loose. Signaling to every monster within a 100 mile radius to know exactly where they are.

They battle together but the waves and waves of monsters is just too extreme. On the brink of inevitable death, a certain goddess appears.

The one who gave them the warnings in the form of fortune cookies. The one that sensed Nicos need for vengeance.

They escape with Nemesis help, but she wants something equally valuable in return for helping Nico and Hazel escape. Nico breaks down and agrees to relinquish all of his precious memories of Bianca and his past life in return for Hazel and a new possible future. A true balance in his heart.

Choosing Hazel over memories of Bianca makes Hazel cry and they bond stronger.

Strangely enough Nico becomes happier without the constant grief of his older sister on his shoulder.

In a way choosing to let her go the same way she did when she chose to be with the hunters.

And then once again when she chose reincarnation.

They still have to worry about Jason though who is constantly causing blood thunderstorms across Tartarus’s sky and wrecking havoc all over the place.

(Also it would be so funny to see Jason literally just… chase Nico and Hazel all over the place… flying after them screaming while they run for their lives bc they can’t see or hear due to the bloodstorm & huge booms of thunder and shit lol.)

Hazel manages to trap Jason in a kaleidoscope of his own storm and shadow with her mist magic and her and Nico manage to shadowtravel him to the ghostly boat that will lead them out. She lets him out but he’s struggling so much in his metal binds that Nico has to knock him out with a punch to the face bc he’s the only one that can touch ghosts.

They ferry up the river Acheron out of Tartarus and chat about what the fuck just happened down there.

Hades awaits them when they arrive.

He’s very angered that his two only living children disobeyed his strict order of not going down there, but relinquishes it eventually when he realizes how tired and beat up his kids look and praises them instead. Hades turns to Nico and states that his older sister would be proud of him. Which Nico replies with confusion saying he doesn’t have an older sister which saddens hades as he figures out what Nico had to give away.

He offers them both something they want.

Anything.

Hazel wishes for Jason to be cured of his mania, and Nico wishes to give Jason back a chance at life. As he still had so much work to do for the gods and goddesses that did not have shrines and action figures to respect them.

Both of these things surprise hades but he grudgingly does so (bc Jason is a son of Jupiter/zeus) saying that Nico and Hazel are indeed very special children.

Although Hades honors Nicos wish he can’t simply let a soul leave the underworld without a final test (hazel being the exception) and does something he did thousands of years ago with another hero begging for his wife’s soul back.

He tells Nico and Hazel they can lead Jason out of the underworld but only if they don’t look back at him. Across the fields of asphodel, across cerebus’ cavern, across the river styx, the journey on Charons boat, back up the many steps that lead to the mortal world…. If they look back once their friend is gone forever. Again…

They distract themselves with a deck of mythomagic cards Hazel stole from Frank (cause she wanted to know why her brother and boyfriend liked the game so much) much to Nico’s embarrassed delight. Nico’s so into explaining the game to Hazel, that the intense need to check if Jason’s still behind them dissipates a bit.

They only notice they’re outside when a wave of sunlight blinds them both and a large figure grabs them from behind.

Jason hugs the daylights out of Nico & Hazel crying like a little kid as months of memories of torment in Tartarus resurface into guilt.

Hades thinks it’s slightly amusing to see a tall muscular son of Jupiter being consoled by his two smaller children as he mentally watches the scene play out from his godly throne.

Nico says he kept the plans of the shrines Jason wanted to build and says maybe he can help with decorating (lol)

I’m gonna have to get an artist to draw a fancomic of this to heal my soul.

Also…. What the fuck did I just write?

[moonlight-records]

the storm | landoscarttpen

pairing: max verstappen x lando norris x oscar piastri

summary: max likes lando. oscar also likes lando. max and oscar hate the idea of sharing their favorite brit and therefore, each other. meanwhile lando is down bad for both and can't make a decision so there should be no problem with carlos trying to cash in a date with the brit years later...right?

warning: jealously, sorta fluff? just a lot of jealously

WC: 2.6K

a/n: this one is for @norrisleclercf1 who mentioned needing a max x lando x oscar!

before the storm | the storm | after the storm

If you had told Oscar when he first joined F1 as a rookie that he would fall for his teammate, Oscar probably would’ve laughed in your face. He was a rookie for christ sake, the last thing on his mind would be crushes let alone a relationship. He’d probably be confident enough to make a bet that it wouldn’t happen. Though his own heart would betray him and he would fall to Lando’s charm pretty quickly into the 2023 season. Luckily back then, it was concealed by how painfully shy Oscar was as he adjusted to F1. 

Though after the summer break, Oscar started to come out of his shell more and more. Slowly but surely, the Brit managed to chip away at his walls to see who Oscar truly was. Each day the quiet, polite, awkwardly shy Aussie dissolved into the polite but unapologetic sassy Aussie that Prema had grown to know and love in F2. Not that it really upset Oscar it was only a matter of time but what did worry the Aussie was the more Lando chipped away the harder it would be for Oscar to keep his feelings at bay and have to admit he did have a crush on Lando. Oscar swore it must be a rookie curse. Lando and Carlos. Max and Daniel. Charles and Sebastian (did that one count? Oscar counted it anyway). Yet they all ended up being great friends, so surely these feelings would pass…right?

*******************

Max didn’t do crushes. He didn’t do relationships. Hell, for the longest time he didn’t even do friendships. His father had drilled into him basically that racing came first and foremost. He couldn’t afford any form of relationship as it would become a distraction. Deep down, he knew that’s part of the reason he hated Charles growing up. The Monegasque was kind. Charming. Friendly. A major distraction that Max would stay clear of for his career (and mainly appease his father). Of course now, Max really could not give a flying fuck what his father wanted, even if it was for the “best”. He proved himself on the track at 17. He had become Red Bull’s new ‘golden boy’. He earned himself the name ‘Mad Max’. He had solidified himself as a 3rd time WDC. He could start living his life as he wanted.

Though there is one friend he had growing up. A friendship Max surprisingly kept under the radar of his father under a disguise. His friendship with Lando. 

Unlike Charles, who he considers a good friend now, Lando has been one of his closest friends. Sure, it started the same. The friendly and bubbly Brit tried to befriend him during their karting days and Max soured it into a rivalry yet unlike Charles who accepted it and became his number one rival, Lando would not expect a role as rival…or maybe just second place. The Brit was persistent in their karting days. Still bubbly and friendly after an intense race. Still always saying hello and goodbye to Max. Still just there. It freaked Max out a it growing up. Most people would’ve backed off or stood down after Max snapped at them or ignored them but not Lando.

Lando wasn’t like most people.

It’s one of the things that drew Max closer to the Brit. He found himself actually attempting small talk with Lando after. Found himself looking for the Brit when he got to the track to greet the other. Flagging the Brit down after races and starting the now infamous ‘Maxsplaining’ and the Brit listened. Not once did the Brit shy away or try to run. He would stand there or walk with Max as Max rambled on, smiling and listening and even putting his own input into it. 

When his father asked? Max simply said he’s getting to know his enemy better. “Keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer…right?” he had asked his father. It was the one time he saw his father offer a genuine smile even if it was for the wrong reasons but his father agreed Max was right and clever for that. Looking back, Max laughs. His father was convinced that Max kept Lando around to learn more about the Brit to destroy him and stay #1 but that was never and would never be Max’s intention but if that’s what it took to keep this one friendship close to his chest, Max would take it. 

*******************

If there was one thing that Max and Oscar could agree on, it was the fact they did not like each other very much. It was funny, considering that both of them were deemed the ‘polite cats’ of the grid by the fans., the fact they both just speak their mind when they can, and even prefer to stay indoors / do their own thing so it was pretty shocking at the fact they didn’t really like each other.

It’s not because they had a major fight as they rarely hung out off the track. It wasn’t because they didn’t really know the other well (which Oscar will be using to his advantage on the track). I wasn’t over some stupid fight or anything the media had no idea about. It came down to one very simple thing: jealousy.

Oscar’s jealous at how close Lando and Max are. How they were childhood friends and ever since F1 they’ve only gotten closer. How Max, who would prefer to be at home on the sim with his cats threw together a party for Lando after his maiden win in Miami before Oscar could. How Lando would constantly talk about what he and Max were going to do. How after Austria, Oscar tried to cheer Lando up but he was so upset and worried about his friendship with Max was ruined (even though Oscar reassured Lando that it was just a track incident and that he should not stress) and how Lando was over the moon when Max and him hashed it out (which Oscar was happy about, since Lando was happy). It just irked Oscar to no end that he would never be able to compete with Max for Lando’s attention and have the same effect on Lando like Max does.

Though, one of them was Lando’s teammate. One of them got to share connecting hotel rooms with Lando. One got to travel with Lando often and explore. One got to do challenges. One got to sit in boring meetings with him and well. It wasn’t Max.

Max cannot stand how the Aussie showed up and weaseled his way into Lando’s life and, in his mind, heart. Max bitterly watched the Brit and Aussie from afar. The way Lando basically took Oscar into his arms to show him the strings. How the two were doing all these challenges and they could not keep a straight face for the life of them. How they were just so giggly and touchy. The way that whenever he was with the Brit, somehow he always mentions the Aussie. Oh and do NOT get Max started about Austria. He knew that both he and Lando were running on adrenaline and high emotions. He knew Lando was upset–he didn’t need to watch the interview since the younger driver wa right fucking next to him when they spoke about it post-race. Max knew they both needed time and they’d talk it out but Max needed longer after watching McLaren’s fan zone. He knew Lando was upset. He knew that Lando would rather be back in his room sulking and yet there he was. On stage with Oscar as Oscar took his shoe off to do a shoey before offering it to Lando with that stupid smile and he took it.

He took the shoe.

Lando did the shoey before launching Oscar’s shoe into the crowd. It did get to Max snicker, don’t get him wrong, but it was short lived when Lando turned back to his teammate and Oscar just cackled. Bending over slightly as he laughed and got Lando to laugh as well. Deep down, Max was happy that Lando wasn’t shutting in on himself and lost in his own mind, but anger flared through Max because that should be him doing a shoey (and he fucking hated them) with Lando and getting him to laugh. It should be him that spent almost 10 months traveling the world with the other (even if they flew together from time to time and Max was forcing Lando to to get on his jet after missing his flight since he didn’t think he would win Miami). Lando should be his teammate. Not Oscar’s. 

Not that it really mattered. Max has been around since their karting days, Oscar has only been in Lando’s life for a year. If push came to shove and one of them had to go. It would not be Max.

*******************

Having a crush as an F1 driver was hard enough. You couldn’t come outright and say that you had a crush on someone for many reasons. For starters, the grid was basically it’s own form of Love Island behind the scenes and if you told the wrong person then word spread faster than Lewis leak to move to Ferrari in 2025. Then, the media joined the mix. They ate that shit up and any chance of the sliver of privacy you had? Gone. Every single move you did would be watched. Anybody you hung out with could be suspected as a crush. Nobody was safe. The fans? Ruthless. They would speculate everything. Facial movements, clothes, locations. They would work faster than the FBI and you were never sure if you should be impressive or terrified. Why can’t a guy have a crush on his two closest friends in peace?

Oh yeah. Lando Norris had to go big or go home. One crush? Could NOT be him. Of course his crushes just happen to be none other than Max Verstappen and Oscar Piastri. Best friend and current teammate.

Sure, the fans still rooted for Carlos and Lando. Lando did himself for a time after Carlos switched to Ferrari but the feelings died down. Then seeing Carlos with Teto more and more, Lando decided it was not worth the mental gymnastics anymore. Besides, he thinks that he and Calos work much better as best friends who make everyone question if they’re dating because are you really best friends with someone if you haven’t been mistaken as a couple? 

Which is how Lando found himself plopping down on Carlos' hotel bed with a groan before grabbing the closest pillow and throwing it over his face before screaming into it. The Spaniard was sitting at the table, finishing something up on his laptop before bringing his gaze up to eye his younger friend. 

“Everything alright, amigo?”

“No.” Lando slams the pillow onto the bed as he stares at the ceiling, “everything is not okay. Why do you think I’m hiding out here?”

“Because you have missed hanging out with me?” Carlos offers.

Lando scoffs slightly before turning his head to look at the Spaniard, “well duh,” he rolls his eyes, “but that was an unspoken thing.”

Carlos laughs softly which pulls a laugh out of Lando, “what’s going through your mind, amigo?”

Groaning slightly, Lando covers his face once again with the pillow before it’s yoinked off his face gently. A shadow covers the other’s face as Lando looks up at Carlos, “it’s just,” he sighs and lets himself deflate into the mattress, “being the middleman for Max and Oscar is getting really tiring and really frustrating.”

“Wait,” Carlos brows pull together, “Max and Oscar do not get along? Really? I thought they were at least–” he pauses for a moment, “friendly with each other. Hell, Oscar and I are friendly with each other and it seems we’re being forced to be enemies! Are you sure? Why?”

“Yes Carlos, I am sure,” Lando huffs as he sits up on his elbows, “I don’t know why. I cannot get an answer out of either of them but if I’m not there to play middleman, they will not talk to each other. If they do,” shivering, “it’s not pretty but they keep that typically private.”

“Oh…well, do you think it’s because of you?”

“Of me?” Lando repeats, “why would it be because of me?”

“Well, Max has been a longtime friend, no? And well, Oscar has become a close friend from being a teammate,” Carlos clears his throat to curb the venom in his voice at the statement, “maybe they aren’t exactly happy with sharing,” Carlos smirks slightly as he leans in slightly.

Lando’s breath hitches slightly. If this was Lando about two years ago, he’d be over the moon with how close he and Carlos are right now. If he was Lando from two years ago, he’d probably jump at this opportunity and close the distance but Lando was not that guy anymore. Carlos was doing whatever he was doing with Teto and Lando wasn’t going to deal with that and somehow by some luck he managed to curb those emotions but it was hard not to be tempted with the ‘what if’ starting with in front of him. Lando started to let his gaze dip to his lips before his eyes snapped to the door with a knock, yet the two are still there.

Finally after an eternity (it was a millisecond), Lando pulls himself up and back sliding out from under Carlos and rolling off the bed before going to the door. Opening it, there stood the man himself Teto.

“Ca–oh!” Teto says surprised, “Lando! I was not expecting you here. Am I interrupting something?”

“Oh no, I was kinda hiding out. Am I interrupting something? Carlos didn’t mention you’d be popping by tonight.”

“He didn’t?” Lando catches Teto’s gaze move to Carlos harden, “shocker.” When the gaze is back on Lando, it softens as he smiles. “Well, Carlos promised to come with me to get my first tattoo–”

“You’re getting a tattoo?!” Lando asks, “Does the shop also have a piercer? I’ve always wanted to get a tongue piercing.”

“You do?” Carlos asks in the background but he’s ignored. 

Teto thinks, “I believe so. Do you want to come with me? You’d probably be a much better support system than that one,” Teto gestures to Lando and grins, offering an arm when Lando agrees while Carlos is trying to hurriedly put his shoes on, “let’s go then!”

“Hey! Wait for me! Do not leave you two!!”

*******************

There was a knock on Max’s hotel door. Max barely looked up from his computer as he was trying to get his sim to work. There was a knock on the door again, a bit harsher and Max glared back in the direction but ignored it. After the third knock, even harsher, Max grunts as he rips his headset off and stalks over to the door. Flinging it open, he glares, “What?” He demands. 

Oscar stands there while looking at the Dutchman. He’s not happy to be standing in front of Max’s door but he had nobody else to go to. He felt his jaw lock before he unclenched his jaw. “Well?” Max spat out, “What do you want, Oscar?”

“Did you know Lando and Carlos went to a tattoo parlor together and Lando pierced his tongue and Carlos took him out for ice cream?” Oscar asks finally as he turns his phone to show Max the photo Carlos had posted on his story. 

Carlos had his arm wrapped around Lando’s shoulder, tucking the Brit into his side. Lando was giving a cheeky wink with his ice cream while Carlos was making some silly face but his cheek was too close to Lando’s for comfort. If one of them turned, they’d kiss the other’s cheek. 

Oscar studies Max, seeing how the Dutchman’s eyes narrow in on the photo, the anger shifting from Oscar to the photo.

“What. The. Fuck?”

[onyourhyuck]

LUKEWARM. L.DH | Episode 1

— Title: ‘Wasteland, baby.’

— Summary: Hong Yujin is the new patient at the psych ward admitted for her eating disorder. On the first day of being admitted she meets Haechan, a patient being treated for his bpd. Yujin already claims to hate him; he is everything she dislikes. Loud, annoying, self destructive.

— Genre: Psych ward, hospital, mental illnesses, can be triggering so read at your own risk, guys take care of yourself, mentions of eating disorders, mentions of bpd, suggestive, smut, angst etc.

— Notes: please don’t read if you’ll be triggered !! Take care of yourself guys.

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Yujin is emotionally constipated and Haechan is a meddler.

The two most complex cases in the ward — happen to be each other’s triggers and worst of friends in the whole of hospital. Putting these two and two together is like asking for a death wish to happen.

You see punishment takes in many different forms. Yujin is convinced that god is punishing her with Haechan messing up her life whenever she’s in a good mood.

The young girl only recently started to enrol in this hospital not out of her own choice. News spread around quickly of Yujin and of course Haechan wanted to see the newbie for himself. She remembers how he bothered her with so much questions on the first day. Now Yujin wishes he would choke and shut up for once.

If there was a thing to describe him. It would be running tap water.

Strange interpretation right? Yujin likes to think that Haechan’s like tap water. Distasteful, stale and unpleasant.

So far it sounds accurate to Yujin.

A plop of weight pressed on the mattress with shoes on the hospital bed. The boy crossed his legs over the covers with a gleeful smile gazing right back at the owner of the room who looks to be the most pissed he’s seen her yet.

How exciting. Haechan loves getting reaction out of people the most. The girl has been his main source of entertainment here since she arrived. It was like a blessing from God, or so he likes to think.

“Get out.” Yujin states not even bothering to say hello or ‘please get out’ it was just a flat out unemotional reaction equivalent to ‘fuck off’ which he pretends that it hurt him. But it didn’t in reality.

The boy gasps pretending to be a freaking sob but he stopped acting when the expression on her face did not budge. Haechan was intrigued by Yujin’s bluntness. Most other patients would’ve backed down and been submissive to him, but not Yujin. He liked that in a very twisted way.

“Oh come on don’t be such a stick in the mud, let me hang out with you.” Haechan flashes her a little smirk hoping it would encourage some agreement between them.

Yujin heavily exhales. Might as well add some smoke particles, Haechan swore he saw her head turning to flames any minute.

“No. If I want to hang out with someone like you I would get a pet dog. Now get out of my room!” The arms extend out towards the door so Haechan can see the way out.

Taken aback by such statements but not letting them phase him outwardly. Haechan definitely notes from bothering her as of lately he did notice Yujin was rather a feisty individual. Deciding it would be even more fun to get on her nerves and push the already pressed buttons even more just for the fun of it. He didn’t actually care that Yujin was upset.

Haechan’s back pressed on the wall while he was sitting up on the bed this time. Legs crossed over the covers with that devilish smile.

“Oh calm down you’re in a mental ward, I’m sure you’ll come across much worse than me.”

The audacity to have Haechan smiling at her at this time? Yujin feels every inch of her body blood boiling to the point she couldn’t stand straight and see clearly.

Yujin glares over at the boy who made himself comfortable on the bed unannounced with one leg over the covers as if he owns this freaking ward to himself. Yujin stands there in middle of the room immediately ready to protest to the boy who gave no ounce of care.

“Who do you think you are?” Yujin says with an unamused expression.

The boy notices Yujin’s reaction to him sitting down on her bed and her glare. It would fun seeing someone else react this much, Haechan sometimes wonders if her head will explode someday.

The girl has only enrolled recently. He grins from ear to ear. It was fun however. Especially to a guy like him.

Haechan leans back on the bed and rests his feet against the wall. He grabs a magazine off the bedside table and begins to read, as if he’s at home. “Oh come on, what makes you think you own everything here? Who do you think you are?”

Haechan taunts her back. He can’t get enough of this interaction. It was like watching a sitcom on television but he was starring himself.

The moment which was full of tension like a chalk scraping at the chalkboard in a classroom. It felt like a million knives stabbing in the same constant pressure point on a body. It wasn’t a good energy at all so when the young nurse walked in on the moment, she was rather surprised to see Haechan on the bed already harassing the new patient.

The nurse furrows her eyebrows. “Haechan shouldn’t you be in your room taking your medication with nurse Joong?”

His eyes dart away from Yujin to the nurse rather eerily and he slants forward with a dropping smile. “Awh bummer — well this was fun.” He said it like he spent most of the living moments in this ward.

Yujin couldn’t put her finger on it, but it certainly sounds like Haechan was used to the pills prescribed.

But before he was fully leaving he whispers to Yujin. “Welcome to the Wasteland, baby.”

Not quite understanding what the boy meant. Yujin frowned and turned back but by then he was gone on his way.

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work. Please reblog this blog and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out !