#she looks really happy in the photos she sent to the family group chat!!!!!

[emotionalsupportdman]

MY SISTER GOT ENGAGED??????????

[lalunanymph]

your stepbrother just can't resist you anymore — itoshi. r

flirty!reader, pining rin, heavy stepcest sorz, conflicted emotions, forced orgasms, almost getting caught by parents trope, humiliation, dirty talk, pro-player!rin, rin is 22/ reader is 21, i wrote this completely blasted and came twice to it i fear

Rin never thought he would take this too far. 

He was known to be meticulous, and calculative—a man made out of stone. On the field, off of it.

Fans chanted his name, and newspapers exalted him as the latest football legend. But, it did not change the grinding tension he felt whenever his reflection shone back his dark eyebags and pinched frown—a symptom of overworking himself too much.

Through it all, however, Rin always prided himself on being a smart man. 

That is, until he met you. 

His new stepsister.

You fit every stereotype of a stepsister Rin had heard of from his horndog colleagues. 

Pretty, with a too wide smile. Eager and ready to be his friend. 

He hated to admit how those cheap, sleazy pornos Shidou would mass share in their group chat had a grain of truth in them. 

If they didn’t, he wouldn’t spend his entire time avoiding you, hoping you never noticed how the hairs at the back of his neck stood whenever you passed by smelling of vanilla and sin. He would try to at least give you a hug, not tense everytime you so much as brushed your arm against his. 

The idea of self-hatred was not a foreign concept to Rin.

He had spent countless hours comparing himself to Sae, wondering if he would ever reach the pinnacle of such greatness.

His destroyed ego had been remade too many times to count. And he was starting to suspect you would be his final undoing. 

“Rin-nii.” 

Your soft voice jolted him from his thoughts. He turned the TV down, trying not to let his stare linger on how the shadows from the dimmed blue light threw the curve of your collarbones into sharp focus. 

Both your parents were out of town for the weekend, and you had the house all to yourself. 

Rin lived on his own in a penthouse somewhere in downtown Tokyo, and he rarely came home unless his father called him to have dinner together with his new stepmother and stepsister. 

There was no reason why he should even be here on a Friday night in the first place. 

Plus, with Sae still in Spain, he had no one to turn to as a buffer, and the onus of suffering fell on him to return your unsure smile with a half-hearted nod.

“Do you want to have dinner?” you fiddled with your fingers, and he hoped to whatever deity above tasked with listening to his pathetic ass that you hadn’t noticed the heat dusting his cheeks. 

“Sure,” his voice came out steady, almost bored. Just the way he always sounded. 

Rin’s practised poker face was handy when he had to sit opposite of you, pretending to be absorbed in his plate of udon while you struck up sparse conversation here and there. You talked about work, your colleagues. Sometimes, you brought up your mom and how happy she was on holiday with his dad. 

His father had told him how you were raised by a single mother for your entire life and never really had a family to rely on. This would be the first time you had male figures in your life—and you never failed to express your gratitude at how easily they took you in.

“Ah, ka-san sent me some photos of the seashore,” you mumbled wistfully, picking your phone from the table and scrolling through your gallery with a fond smile on your face. “Isn’t it beautiful?” you shared the screen with him and he reached out to steady your hand, accidentally grazing your fingers. 

He pulled back slightly, mumbling an apology. 

“It’s fine,” you beamed, stowing your phone back into your pocket. “How’s practice?” 

This was the reason Rin absolutely hated you. 

How you could feel his touches but never responded to them.

Was he the only one cursed to feel his heart doubling in size whenever you so much as looked at him? 

Rin wished he could pull back your tall curtains to uncover the orbit of your thoughts—if they were even a millimetre close to colliding with the idea of him. The nuclear reaction was enough to get his mind reeling, and the tightness of his breath and the front of his shorts was enough to snap him back to reality.

“Fine,” he muttered curtly, standing up abruptly, the back of his chair hitting the wall.

You physically recoiled back, and for a second, there was a shadow that passed your pretty eyes, one which you quickly put out when he turned his searing gaze to you.

“Okay, Rin-nii,” you whispered, and your resignation crushed his soul. 

Nice going, Itoshi. 

You slipped on a smile, taking his plate to the sink before he could protest. He couldn’t tell that your hands were shaking, chest crumpled almost to your ribcage with the cold sting of rejection.

“You…” 

His soft voice rose above the clanging of your thoughts, and you stopped scrubbing. Turning to him, your raised brows spoke of honest intentions to hear him out. Unfortunately, Rin was unsure of what else to say, and you waited for your older brother to break the awkward ice. 

The parting between his two lips which revealed his white teeth, zig-zagged through your pulsing thoughts, goading you to crash into him. 

Your shoulders fell from your ears, and you stopped in mid-motion. Cold water ran down your wrists like tears from a crack in heaven, calling you back into the light. But, you ignored the righteous siren.

Those teal eyes, framed with thick lashes and desperation slowly inched up your bare thighs, right to the crease where your cotton shorts was caught in between an affair with your plush thigh and the enticing slope of your—

Rin flinched and spun on his heel, darting up the stairs as quickly as his toned legs could bring him. 

You watched after him, frozen in one spot, fighting the current of disbelief and disappointment threatening to tear you apart. 

The fleeting glimpse of warmth that ignited within the chambers of your lower belly was extinguished by the cold harsh truth: your step brother absolutely hated you. 

Swallowing hard, you turned back to your hands that were starting to prune from the water.

You switched off the tap, drawing your hands out of the sink basin and letting them fall to your side, breath coming out in stuttered puffs. Not caring how a tiny puddle was forming under both your arms. 

Rin snapped back awake to the sound of thunder crashing above his ceiling.

Like the heavens were rioting against the sins plaguing his thoughts, he twisted to this side, trying hard to squeeze his eyes close and allow his mind to drift off. 

Another clap of thunder, and Rin swore he felt a cold draft brush his arm.

The bed dipped behind him, and he jumped, a strangled yelp escaping his throat, ready to fight off whoever dared to interrupt his sleep.

When the whites of your eyes shone in the half-darkness of his room, Rin calmed down enough to exhale noisily, fisting the sheets to still his rapidly beating heart.

“What are you…?” 

Rin trailed off, anger dying in the back of his throat when the shape of you adjusted in the dark. He first noticed the dip of your shoulders, bare under black spaghetti straps. Following the curve of your collarbone which led right into the trap of your cleavage, he couldn’t help caress your soft skin with his heated glance. 

“You can touch them.” 

He blinked, and the whites of your eyes suddenly became more vivid even as the night darkened. The shape of your mouth was coming into focus, his retinas gathering enough light in the pitch black room to illuminate the soft flesh-tone pillows he wanted to bite down on in his frustration. 

The owlish blinks and stuck silence was cut off when you reached for his hands, pulling them into your lap. Rin felt the heat of your thighs seep into his skin, and a low gasp spilled past his defences. 

Lucky Rin, the man who could score even in an unfair match, couldn’t believe if he was dreaming or not when you guided him to slide his palms up your thighs, your touch loose around his wrists. Your night dress hinged off your hips, and he briefly casted his glance to the darkened triangle in between your thighs. It fell back in place, hiding your most vulnerable part like a hasty curtain catching him right in the act.

But, when his larger palms encased your breasts, both of them curving nicely into the concave of his trembling grasp, your nightie’s betrayal was quickly forgotten. 

“Fuck,” Rin whispered despite himself. You were softer than he imagined. “Is this real?” 

It took him a second to realise he had asked that question out loud like a fucking loser. 

Your chest vibrated noiselessly with the buried sound of a laugh. “I can’t believe it either.” 

He flexed his wrists, wishing he could close his fists around such delicate flesh. His grip waned, and he felt like he should drop his hands before this got too weird, when you stopped him with a soft sigh. 

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” 

The shadow of disappointment in your tone, the way your syllables fell flat against your tongue like a limpid towel made a shiver of contempt flash hotly in his chest.  

Taking control over the voices screaming in his head, Rin firmly squeezed your tits, hearing your gasp of surprise and ecstasy rebound across the room. 

“Such a fucking eager slut.” 

Those words slid past the curlicues of his tongue with an ease of deadly poison, each word slowly bringing you up short.

“What—”

“Shut up,” Rin glowered, feeling the stiffness of your excitement between his fingertips as he twisted and tugged on your nipples through the sheer silk. “You seriously interrupted my sleep for this?” 

He yanked you closer to him, your body sprawling open like a chest of precious scrolls above his own. Your hair fell into your face, and your scalp’s sensitive skin cried out when he tugged it back with one hand, forcing you to reveal the truth. 

“Only little sluts try to seduce their nii-sans.” 

The harsh collision of his hot breath and the stinging slap of his palm on your ass made you come up short. Your cry was smothered by his tongue pillaging past the barriers of your mouth, forcing it wide open for him to devour the softness of your sudden shock. 

You barely kissed him back when Rin rolled you onto your front, pushing your face into his pillows. Something hard and insistent was pressing down on your thigh, and you shivered when you felt him reach in between your bodies to yank his shorts down. 

“Begging like a bitch in heat—I’ll show you what desperation truly looks like.” 

“Rin—hah!” 

Another hot slap landed on your skin, this time in between your upper thighs. It seared through your flimsy bleats and protests, crawling up your throat as strangled cries when you felt him shove his hands through the gap of your legs, cupping the heart of your desire right in his palm. 

Two thick fingers parted the wet seam of your folds, finding the flushed pearl which had the power to make you agree to any transgression. Those digits twisted it slightly in between their callous grab, flicking, rubbing and tapping on the fleshy dome with feral insistence. 

You cried out, and a large hand slammed over your open mouth. 

“Shut up,” he whispered, fervently, like he suddenly remembered that the walls have ears. “Our parents, they’re…”

Rin trailed off when the stony silence from his parents room down the hall finally hit him. Like someone had thrown cold water over his unbearably hot impatience, it dissolved into greasy pits of lust which opened up right to the darkness winking at him.

Begging him to choose her. 

“... not here.” 

“Yes,” you whispered, and Rin didn’t know if your shunting hips brushing his aching cock was intentional or not. “T-They’re on holiday, remember? We’re all alone.”

The way you said those last three words—the breathy rejoice of this simple truth—made Rin lean his entire weight into you, the warmth of his breath brushing the shell of your ear feeling like the world’s most beautiful electric shock. 

“Good. We don’t have to be quiet when I fuck you.” 

You were tossed onto your back with barely any grace, and Rin raked his hot stare down the planes of your body at the same time his veiny, outspread hands made their way down towards your hips. He pulled back the flimsy red hem which had so cruelly denied him the pleasurable view of your pussy, baring your glossy folds to him.

“Wet already, little sister? I would’ve never expected this from you.” 

He drove his thick fingers back to the sacred promise of your heat, using your own desire as a lube to take him right down to the knuckles. Your sharp squeal filled him with a masculine pride no goal ever could.

The feel of your warm walls, sucking him in and lovingly keeping him there like nobody had ever done in his whole life, made Rin feel like he could win 20 World Cups in a row. His nostrils flared and he curled his fingers in a seductive motion he once saw a pornstar do. Your arched back and tiny squeal almost made him smile.

“How long have you waited for this?” he whispered, loud enough in the quiet of your heaving breaths. “How long have you waited for me to fuck you?” 

“As long as you’ve waited,” your returning whisper, pushed through the scarlet haze his fingers were eliciting in your body, caught him off guard. 

“As I’ve waited?” 

You nodded sluggishly, half-lidded gaze heavy with emotion when you whispered:

“Since the first day I saw you.” 

Him, in a weathered jersey, coming back from practice while both your parents stood side by side, a cinder block about to explode his entire world while you were seated behind them—hidden from his sights. You were only twenty when you first met Itoshi Rin, but you knew you would love him for the rest of your life. 

“A year ago,” the ghost of his laugh in the crook of your neck made the patch of skin it caressed explode into tiny sparks. “I hated you the first time I saw you.”

As he spoke, he started to increase the speed of his fingers, using his thumb to put constant pressure on your aching clit. Sometimes, he would rub a few circles into it, drawing out your torment and causing your legs to jerk.

“R-Rin—”

“You reminded me of everything wrong about my parent’s marriage. You were my father’s failure right in front of me. I wanted to hate you so much.” His voice quavered, and his fingers stilled inside you. He pitched forward into your neck, covering his powerless side with a muffled sigh right into your throat.  

“But, I could never hate you.” 

Despite how wrong everything was, his words were right. Rin never hated you or your silly laugh or your insistence in making sure he was comfortable around you. Maybe he never hated you at all, just the upheaval in his life that followed along with you. 

He couldn’t blame you for that. It wasn’t your fault that your mother’s love had severe consequences on his upbringing. 

“Never?” you brought him back to the ground with your quaking question. 

“Hmm,” Rin hummed, in a half-answer to your longing. “We’ll see about that.” 

Those fingers were back to bring you towards the edge, ready to have you spilling out your deepest release and desires for him to taste on his tongue.

Rin curved one arm around you, holding you to his chest while his leg instinctively hooked around your thigh, drawing it right to his side and keeping you open to his plunging fingers. 

The hand protectively curved around your shoulders was the same one which pushed your neckline down, revealing your sumptuous breasts topped with heavy, hard nipples right into the chilly room air. 

He eyed how those nubs stiffened and perked under his watchful gaze. Rin couldn’t resist the temptation to pinch them around with his thumb and forefinger, relishing at how such a simple action could render you breathless and arching your back. 

Your hips swayed like a wave threatening to break over his entire wrist, while he skillfully rocked your world with timely strokes and tugs. 

The wet sounds coming from between your legs and spilling from your mouth painted an entire map of your release—the hitch in your breath, the gasping quiver of his name, your pitchy squeal which broke off into a pathetic whine. 

Rin let your body find her release from its shameful tether, those watchful, beautiful eyes never taking off from your undulating hips and flushed chest. 

While you were easing down from your high, he prised your legs apart, resting in between them and thumbing the raw, angry red head of his neglected cock. Your small fists crumpled around his white sleep shirt, the tilt in your waiting hips and the hungry look in your eyes undoing his patience. 

He fisted the base of his cock, giving it a few strokes. Rin was no amateur, but he wasn’t exactly as experienced as the other players. A truth he would take with him to his grave—his ego always needed to know that he was the best.

In your arms, you proved to him that he was worthy of your visceral reactions. 

You gasped out his name when you felt the tip breaching past your rippling walls. It was an exquisite stretch your toys or fingers could never give you.

Rin set a pace which had your tits jiggling freely with every heavy slam of his hips into yours. He hadn’t bothered to fully remove your nightie; something about how the hem was haphazardly draped across your thighs with the full reveal being where his cock was currently churning your insides, and the lewd way your breasts were revealed to his starving eyes from your hastily pulled down neckline, added a layer of wickedness to this already sinful affair. 

He devoured your flushed cheeks with a debauched sneer.

You turned your face away into the fluffy pillows to muffle your groans, but he pried it back to his impatient gaze. Wrapping a hand around your throat, he kept you pinned to one spot, held in place like how a prey would be frozen in fear from a starving predator’s gaze. 

“I’m fucking you so well, huh, Y/N?” his gritted scoff warmed your blood, making it sing in your ears. “You’re taking me like a champ.” 

“Stop,” you whispered harshly, tightening your hold on his loose shirt. “You’re being m-mean—” 

Your protests died as a choked moan when he wrenched your thighs off the bed and hitched them over his broad shoulders. Rin wrapped his arms around your legs, lifting them off slightly from the soft mattress with his sheer strength.

This position deepened his strokes, and coupled with your shaky circles on your clit, it had you right at the edge. 

“Rin… Rin-nii…”

The featherlight whisper of that honorific slammed into him like a tidal wave. 

Rin picked up the pace, the slick sounds coming from your pussy intoxicating him with everything about your presence; your airy moans, the glossy tears in your eyes, how you scrunched his shirt in your hold as if he would float away if you let go. 

You clawed at his chest, scrambling to grip his dark green locks and the back of his neck to draw him closer. Your legs were fully in the air, the deep rut of each sweet plunge in and out of your eager, twitching hole a shameful sign of your surrender to Rin. 

“Say it again,” he growled, the snarl on his face both terrifying and arousing. “Call me that again, little sister.” 

You wasted no time in succumbing to the darker instincts tainting the air tonight.

“Rin-nii… nii-san… please fuck me good…”

He grasped the doughy softness of your hips, sinking his nails into the welcoming flesh to take more and more until you were crying for him to stop. Rin was selfish with many things, and you were not the exception. He wanted to own your every sniffle, sob and moan. Every exhale of pleasure you released was consumed to feed his ego. 

You belonged to him and only him. 

That thought alone could’ve brought him to his knees, and it nearly made him lose control over his own body. 

The teasing darkness, beckoning him into her disastrous embrace, called out his name in a slurry, seductive moan which sounded awfully like your own voice.

“Rin-nii! I-I’m close!” your choked whimper made the red fog in his mind thicken. There was a finger hovering right over his trigger button, held back by his rapidly corrupted morals.

He couldn’t cum in you, you weren’t on any protection, he would get you knocked up, your parents would kick him out, he would be a disgrace—

“Rin-nii, inside,” you hiccuped, slipping your hand right onto your mound; using your index and middle finger to pry your nether lips further apart so he could see the glistening chokehold of your folds clinging around his cock. “I want you to cum inside.”

Those words barely left your spit-soaked lips when a well of warmth filled you right up to the brim. Rin’s guttural groan was primal, muffled into your shoulder. 

You welcomed his weight on top of you; pushing his cock deeper and pressing on a spot which had you seeing stars and releasing all over his twitching length. 

“Rin…” your soft gasp reverberated through his ringing ears. He shivered when you scratched his scalp, the pleasurable itch running down his spine. 

There was nothing else uttered between you two. Sleep came like a feathered down blanket over your consciousness, dragging you into the dark from the sound of his jagged breathing. 

Your stepbrother was right in between your thighs, eating you out for breakfast. 

Rin and you had woken up in a mess of limbs and dried cum, and rather than forcing normalcy after a night where the biggest boundary was crossed, you both continued to fall deeper into each other’s trap. 

“Rin-nii…” 

He had only fucked you twice, and yet, Rin was already feeling a possessive need to keep filling you up if only to hear you airily breathing out his name. 

His tongue slid through your folds, sampling your flavour with the patience of a man starving for his next meal. 

Your back was pressed to the expensive marble counter, and your fingers were yanking on his locks. 

“Mhm!” your teary hitched breath made him throb right in his sleep pants. 

Rin played with your clit, using his tongue to flick the flushed pearl and sucking around the greasy bud until your legs shook around his ears. 

Your nails sank into the underside of the counter, and he didn’t have to glance up to know that your face was crumpled in pure ecstasy. He could sense it in your hips—how they swayed like poetry in motion, spelling out his name and claim on you.

He flattened his tongue to let you slide your soaked folds over it as you struggled to find sweet friction; risking a peek up at you through his lashes. Your head was thrown back, the morning sun haloing your hair. Rin had seen a few women in the pinnacle of their own pleasure, but never one as breathtaking as you. 

Your moans were strained around your need to remain quiet, even as both your parents were still on holiday. He noticed your hand moving to cover your mouth in his periphery, muffling your moans behind a wall of flesh. 

Rin grunted; he couldn’t let you get away with this.

He retracted the pink muscle of his tongue back into his mouth, kissing your clit as a sweet consolation to his change of mind.

“Let me hear you,” he ordered, observing how you pried your teary gaze from the ceiling to the man right in between your legs. 

“Rin-nii,” your broken whisper stirred none of his sympathies. 

“Our parents aren’t home, so let me hear you,” he kneaded your hip with one hand, swollen lips pulled into an uncharacteristic smirk. “Unless… you don’t want to cum as badly as I thought you wanted to?” 

Your breathing hiked, and you tightened your hold on his hair. 

“N-no… m’wanna cum around your tongue…”

He sucked your clit into his mouth, using his lips to massage and roll the tiny bud. Sadistically enjoying how you flinched and tossed your head back to cry out his name. 

“Then let the neighbors know who’s eating you out s’good,” he growled into your flushed folds. “Let them know who this pussy creams for.” 

His words hit you like a freight train.

Running you down the tracks straight into madness, you let Rin order you around, control your reactions with his straitlaced dominance and encouragement to let go for him. 

You gasped, preened, cried out and moaned his name, calling him Rin, Rin-nii, Rin-Rin… 

His name sounded gorgeous wrapped in lust—your lust.

The sound of a car on the driveway knocked you back to the ground in shock, and from your stance in the kitchen, you could look out the window onto the front porch. Your parents were stepping out of the car, a few hours early from their scheduled arrival, lugging suitcases and joking around.

They couldn’t see you from the kitchen window’s heavy tint, but they were just a few feet away. 

“Rin,” you tugged on his hair harshly, begging him to ease up. There was a puddle of spit and juices gathering on the floor, right above where his mouth was still insistently connected to your clit. “Rin, t-they’re here—”

Those large palms caged your hips to the corner of the island, holding you down so you couldn’t squirm away.

“R-Rin!” 

“Cum first,” he muttered roughly, licking up and down your seam to tease you from clit to hole. “Cum on my tongue first and then I’ll let you go.” 

“No!” you whisper-shrieked, thrashing about, trying to push him off you. He stubbornly held on, pinning you to the edge of the counter with one arm, easily pushing his free hand through your thighs and plunging two thick fingers into your well-teased pussy. 

You gasped out loud, back arching.

Footsteps echoed down the gravel walkway, getting closer.

“Rin—”

Your toes curled, and the room started to spin. It felt like your entire skin was covered with flames licking every inch of your body—the biggest ember burning right where Rin was insistently eating you out. 

Despite every nerve that was drenched in horror, the coil in your belly never stopped tightening, thrilled by the possibility of being discovered.

“Rin,” you were sobbing at this point, whether in fear or ecstasy, you had no idea. Your body was in a raging battle, your self-control razed to ashes.

“... wonder how Y/N and Rin are…”

Your parents were just right behind the door, their voices breaching through your foggy mind.

They were a few feet away from opening the huge mahogany slab and finding your older brother on his knees, pleasuring you. 

Dad would freak out first. After all, he had explicitly told Rin to be nice to you—but he hadn’t anticipated how well the younger Itoshi would treat you.

Your mother would cry. She would curse you out for ruining the first family you ever had. 

And Sae, your other brother… 

The thought of your older nii-san and the disdain shining in those detached teal eyes (so similar to Rin’s yet so different) if he was the one to stumble upon the both of you, was the final push your body needed.

Flames licked your entire body, the world falling off its hinges. You crumpled to the floor, in time for Rin to catch you, his fingers furiously pumping in and out of your drooling cunt, squeezing you dry from the pleasure. 

He was frantically lapping at your clit, drinking up your juices, more of them splattered onto the floor. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, kissing and tonguing your folds as you shuddered and creamed around him. “Fuck, so good, so good—”

The lock clicked, and the front door creaked open.

The elder Itoshi found nothing amiss in his house when he stepped in, his new wife trailing behind with their luggage and souvenir bags. 

His teal gaze swept over the spacious kitchen, and the only sounds in the house came from the living room where light was spilling past the archway. Someone was watching TV. 

“Is Rin here?” his new wife asked, always excited to see one of his boys. He hummed, tossing his keys onto the console table and shrugging out from his jacket. 

“Beats me. He comes and goes when he pleases—”

“Tou-san?” 

Sanjiro paused, recognizing his son’s voice calling from down the hall. 

“Rin-Rin?” 

Both parents ambled towards the light source, rounding the corner to find Rin scrolling listlessly through the channels, still clad in his sleep shirt and pants with a cushion fitted snugly in his arms, nestled right on his lap.

He peeled his disinterested eyes from the screen to assess them. “How was your holiday?” 

Your mother spoke first. “It was great! The weather was so good. How has Y/N been? She mentioned you stopped over for dinner yesterday.” 

Rin’s expression barely changed, only a flicker of recollection behind those impassive eyes. “Oh. Yeah, I did. I stayed over in my old room—it was too late to drive. I hope neither of you minded,” he added as an afterthought.

His stepmother, always there to reassure that he was always welcomed in their new house, stepped into her hostess role. “Of course not! This house is as much yours as ours.” 

Never mind that this luxurious double-storey once belonged to his biological mother and father. 

Recognizing that his new wife might have overstepped with this careless slip, Sanjiro cleared his throat gruffly. “So, did you at least try to be nice to Y/N?”

Before Rin could reply, he was cut off by a chipper: “Yes, he was!”  

You drew all three of their attention, bouncing down the stairs with an effervescent grin plastered on your face. You were ready for the day, dressed in a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt, hair damp from a shower.

“Rin-nii and I watched some horror movies last night and he made fun of me the whole time, did you not, nii-san?” 

There was a crack in his son’s composure—a look of annoyance that made Sanjiro want to chastise him when Rin spoke up, surprising the older man who could faintly make out a teasing lilt in his boy’s tone.

Which was completely unusual to hear coming from his sullen, withdrawn son. 

“Hard not to when you can’t even handle a jumpscare… little sis.”

said i would never write stepcest yet here i am oopsie anyway every reblog and (nice) feedback helps us manifest our own rin-nii bless

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

[agendabymooner]

l'azienda di famiglia (e le donnole dell'isola) ! daniel r. and f1 drivers x ofcs - mini wedding series part 3.

"the family business (and the weasels of the island)"

summary: nobody seemed to warn lester and danny that good things come with the most difficult journey. OR it's wednesday, and all the couple wanted was for the grid to stay away from the italian's sisters. (1)(2)

characters involved: lando norris, george russell, pierre gasly, carlos sainz, alex albon. fictional including the alessandro siblings, trish alonso (see masterlist) and the hearth sisters (and their kids!)

content warning: written part (HELLA LONG). hurt/comfort and a hint of crack fic! mentions of possible infertility, conceiving/pregnancy, mental health, therapy. thirsty!grid singles, lando norris x alessandro!ofc, george russell x alessandro!ofc. minor scenario with cigarette, use of explicit language and google translated italian.

note: got my etsy danny ric shirt. felt good. was writing a feel good part of this series but then decided last minute "hey let's add some sadness into this" and voila. bon appetit xx

masterlist

“Good morning, lads and ladies,” Daniel Ricciardo was the sunshine of the remote island— no matter how exposed the land and the beach were to the sun. The Australian driver could show up in the most depressing place and still manage to paint it yellow. 

But that didn’t apply to all that Wednesday morning. 

The usual suspects — Pierre, Carlos, Lando, George, and surprisingly Lance too — were still hungover from last night. Apparently, from what Daniel had witnessed last night at the bar stand, Valtteri makes a mean cocktail. The first one to believe him was Lando, who definitely asked for more because “he was parched.” Then the usual suspects continued to drink as they begged Bottas to make more. So the grumpiness from the five this morning was just a result of Valtteri’s talent in mixology. 

Lando just grunted quietly as he ate his breakfast. He was cranky, but it was only because Lewis had a vegan option while he and the other lads weren’t allowed to eat much carbs. Lando could really use some nougats. 

“So, not good morning then,” Daniel chuckled before he walked up to the kitchen, looking for the morning shift chef. It didn’t take much longer for Lester to enter the dining hall with the wedding coordinator, Garcia. They were talking amongst themselves before catching the sight of her friends. 

Lester paused from walking before waving, “Morning!” 

Everyone waved back at her, except for the five who only nodded. Lester frowned, “…Okay.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Aimee Hearth, the youngest sister of the Hearth family and Charles’ girlfriend, waved off as she joked, “they had a Taco Tuesday night.” 

Sylvie then looked at Lester and made a drinking gesture, leaving Garcia and Lester to hum in realization. 

“Okay,” Lester giggled, “I’ll tell the chef to have some juice for you, I suppose.” Then she and the coordinator continued to walk towards the kitchen. 

Lando slumped against his chair and sighed, “She’s so weird.”

“Weird how?” Sylvie asked, now looking at her best friend with a scowl. 

“This week made her weirder than she usually is,” Lando whined, “she’s all smiley and giggly— it’s creepy. That’s a Danny Ric thing to do, not a Lester Allie thing.” 

Lester’s friends sat to Lando’s left and laughed at the remark. Damiano David leaned forward to look at the British man. “Lando, it’s her wedding week, dumbass.” 

“I think I’d rather have her shitting on my life instead of giving everyone a happy smile,” Lando shifted in his seat. 

“And she didn’t want to get her sisters’ photos sent to your grid group chat, but we can’t always get what we want,” Thomas sassed. His Italian accent seemed to be a little too loud, he thought, because at the last word almost half the grid stared at his direction. He saw the watching eyes and shrugged, “Hey man, Lorelei speaks. There’s no way anyone could hear a screaming guy down the hall and not ask a question about it—“

“Okay, okay!” Lando protested with a roll of his eyes, “Damn, there’s no need to expose me.” 

“What do you mean, expose you?” Max and Lewis snorted. “Everyone by the lounge room could hear you. You sound like a dying hyena, bruv.” 

The chef came out of the kitchen with jugs of juice— mango and orange, leaving the door open as the couple and the coordinator discussed the agenda for today. The chef came pouring some juice for the guests while the men listened in to the conversation. 

“Mrs. Wolff and her family will be arriving later today with Mrs. Hamilton and the baby. We’ve had their rooms set up— and I can assume Sir Hamilton has already set up the crib for the baby?” 

“He should be.”

“Right, sounds neat. Now what are we looking at… let’s see…” 

“Dinner, perhaps?” 

“The caterers will be serving lunch at 12:30, just half an hour after your families arrive. They’ll serve dinner for the guests at the dining hall while the evening chefs will serve dinner for the family dinner at the villa.”

“Great,” Daniel said, the eavesdropping lads hearing the smile from his voice alone, “that sounds like a plan.”

“If you don’t mind me asking: there will still be portions made for the kids’ right?” Lester asked. She was so polite, never demanding— perhaps that’s what Daniel didn’t like so much. He wanted her to demand for more. But that’s maybe why he also loved her so much. 

“Yes! Of course, it will be for six, yes?” Garcia asked. A hum of agreement came from the kitchen. 

“Psst, Lando, psssst~” Max tried calling the Brit, but he wasn’t having it. 

George and Alex glared at Max and told him to shush. Max looked at his girlfriend and Lewis with his jaw dropped, as if he was asking, “Can you believe this shit?” 

“It should be, unless you count Lori’s brother- ow, never mind,” Daniel groaned, “I forgot I’m not entitled to make such jokes yet.” 

“Would you like anything else from the kitchen?” The chef asked kindly, making Lando look at her with a smile. 

“Some fruits, perhaps?” Lando suggested, feeling slightly irked that he couldn’t listen in to the conversation in the kitchen.

“That should be confirmed as of your arrival two days ago,” Garcia said, “and if you would like, we can always set up a table for the littles so you can have some time. It should be safe for them to go around the villa. And we can also get them some colouring pages and crayons to keep them occupied during the dinner.”

“Of course,” the chef nodded, “just going to chop ‘em up for you.” She then walked off, allowing Lando to continue with his eavesdropping.

“That sounds good!” Lester eagerly said, “I should have thought of that before.”

“I came prepared, Lester, so don’t worry,” Garcia chuckled. “You’ll have more kids at the reception so we’ve made a little table arrangement for them.” 

“Maybe this is a time for her sisters to take a break,” Daniel laughed. “God knows what two children could do to each of them.” 

“Yeah, hearing that they’re single parents made me admire them even more— and I’ve not seen them before!” 

Hearing the conversation, Lando whipped his head towards the direction of the other drivers. His eyes twinkled in excitement and the grid singles seemed to share the same sentiment. 

Valtteri had only shaken his head, wondering what he was just roped into. Lewis caught a glimpse of his reaction, reaching out to pat him at the back. 

Man, were they ever ready to meet the Alessandros. 

The arrival of the Ricciardos was exciting, the grid singles said, but the Alessandros were a different story. 

The singles had decided to do a roll call and relaxed at the beach. The rest (being Sebastian, Fernando and his family, Lewis, Charles and Max with their partners) remained in the palace, some opting for the central air conditioning while the Alonsos hung out at the pool by the west entrance. 

The boys already greeted the family before going back to whatever they were doing. The port was near the palace itself, making it easier for anyone to get to their temporary shelter fast. The beach was also near the port, which gave the boys some access to see who arrived and who had left. 

Then came the Alessandros. 

“Mio caro! Come on, ‘urry!” Pierre’s head was the first to snap in the direction of Lester’s yelling voice, then it was followed by the rest. “They’re here!” 

“I’m coming— that doesn’t sound so right,” Daniel replied back. 

The boys could see the couple standing in the docks as the guests arrived through a boat. The littles had arrived first, jumping up on the arms of Danny and Lester. 

“Oh man, Franco— you and Andrea are heavy!” Daniel hoisted the boys up. “Geez, Lina— what do you feed them?” 

“Men who like to be unkind to women.” 

The boys were close enough to be able to hear the arriving people. So their conversations were loud enough for the boys to eavesdrop. 

“My kinda breakfast.” Anyone with two eyes could say that she was… hot. Pierre Gasly had seen her face once or twice in magazines but not once did he care enough to get to know her. He didn’t think that he’d see her in person though, radiating the same energy that she had on those pictures.

Pierre looked back at the boys, volleyball in hand as he nodded in the direction of the docks. “Jacquelina,” his French accent said loud enough for the men, “she’s the eldest, oui?” 

“Yeah,” Lando confirmed. 

“Dio abbia pietá,” God, have mercy. Pierre muttered beneath his breath before turning back. 

“Same here,” Lester said as she juggled the toddler and the infant in her arms. “Theo and Maris have grown a lot this past year! Don’t tell me you’re feeding them the same thing as Lina, sis?” 

“No,” another woman stepped out of the boat, trying to balance her way down as she laughed heartily. “They like racists for dinner.”

“Still hilarious as ever, Nora,” Danny laughed aloud, hugging the brunette as a greeting. The woman kissed him on the cheek before moving on to Lester. 

Kara Eleanora Alessandro. That was the 30 year old sister of Lester, then. She was the businesswoman who runs a boutique in Tuscany and Milan. 

Pierre was stupid for that. Why didn’t he go out to shop more often? 

“Ever the genius, Dan,” Nora chuckled, kissing her sister on the forehead. “I hope the groom’s treating you nicely, tesoro?” 

“A malapena,” barely. Lester laughed softly, making Daniel turn towards his fiancée with a huge scowl on his face.

“The accusations, bellezza,” Daniel scoffed, “on our wedding week.” 

“Yeah, keep that up then there will be no more weddings happening,” Nora said, reaching for her children as she carried them. “Is there any place the bambinos could freshen up in? Theo and the boys were rather excited about swimming when we said beach. They can’t swim on the beach just yet because we just arrived – they need to nap.” 

“Ah yes! West and east entrance,” Lester told her sister, “Garcia will show you your rooms, then you can have lunch if you’d like.” 

A tall figure exited the boat, making his way down to the dock as he exclaimed, “Danny!” 

“Mateo! How’s it been?” Daniel slapped the boy’s back and greeted. “How’s college?” 

“Shit,” Mateo Alessandro stood there with his 6 '1 being. He was dressed on a blue short sleeved linen shirt and khaki shorts, his bucket hat eccentric. 

“Oi, stop swearing,” Lester scolded her little brother before giving him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I didn’t raise you like that, bambino.” 

“You’re only four years older than me,” Mateo rolled his eyes. 

“MATEO! YOU UTTER PIECE OF SHIT!” A scream escaped a girl’s mouth as she exited the boat, stomping down as if the boat wasn’t shaking. 

“NICOLA! Don’t be foolish! Stop shaking the boat,” Lester hissed, the younger girl not caring as she smacked Mateo in the arm. 

The slap was so hard that even the drivers from afar grimaced. Crikey.

“Alright, cut it out,” Daniel told the girl before Mateo could even retaliate. “Use your words, kids.” 

“Look at what this testa de cazzo did to my face,” dickhead. The girl whined as she turned her head to the side, suddenly catching a glimpse of the drivers who then looked away after being caught by her. 

Daniel and Lester leaned over and saw what she was pointing at. 

A penis was drawn on the side of her head. Right on her temple, in fact. 

Lester glared at Mateo, who couldn’t contain his laughter any longer as he cackled hysterically. 

Of course, Daniel took this as a chance to joke.

“If anything, you’re the dickhead,” Mateo wailed at the joke that Daniel made, trying to catch his breath. 

“Don’t encourage the boy,” Lester nudged her fiancé harshly before turning to her sister, “Do you think you can take it off easily?”

“I sure hope so,” Nicola Alessandro was everyone’s favourite, being the youngest and all that. Truthfully, Mateo and Nicola were the favourites of the Alessandro family. They could get away with anything and get something with a snap of a finger if they asked for it. So their foolishness was just a natural thing to happen. 

If you put them in the same place, you’ll have nothing but chaos. 

“It’s washable,” Mateo finally stood up from laughing too much, wiping down the drawing. “See?” 

“You need to stop doing shit that’ll get you in trouble, Mateo,” Daniel paused, “Actually, don’t do the shit that’ll get me in trouble. They already think that I’m influencing you.”

“So we can’t talk about the po—“

“No! We didn’t even do that,” Daniel protested, “stop being a shithead. I love you, man, but you need to stop concocting something heinous at this early time of the week. I’ve got to marry your sister.”

“Ma should have adopted him out and stuck to being a girl mother,” Nicola shook her head before walking towards the direction of the palace.

“Oi! You’re a bitch, you know that.”

“Stop throwing that word around, Mateo! The kids can hear you!” Lester huffed as she and Daniel watched Mateo walk away. 

The couple then turned towards the direction of the grid singles, Daniel crossing his arms and Lester resting her hand on her hips. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of the staring drivers, obviously acting like deers caught in the headlights as she pointed at them. 

“Don’t try it, boys,” she warned them.

Daniel also said, “We mean it.” 

They both walked off, heading to the palace as well. 

The drivers only looked at each other, silence filling the air. Bottas then guffawed and was followed by the rest of the group. They had a hard time keeping a straight face as they were being told off by the couple. Those two were the most cheerful couple to have existed in the paddock, so to see them look serious? Yeah no. 

They all had to laugh.

pierregasly posted on his story !

An hour hadn’t even passed since the Ricciardos and the Alessandros arrived at the island, and if you were to ask any of the drivers they were starting to feel bored by the lack of activities done. Most of them had gone off to somewhere inside the palace after Lance told them about the entertainment den at the basement level.

Everyone left the beach but George Russell. He decided that he should stay and spend some time listening to the calming waves of the low-tide water, under the umbrella with his shirt undone and his chest and abdomen exposed to the world. 

This was the life he wanted to live after the 2023 season. He hadn’t really wanted to party for two days straight, but most people were his friends and they’ve never taken the energy out of him. So really, he’s winning either way.

His eyes were closed the entire time, his ears listening closely to the sound of the waves. But he drew his attention to the rustling of the sands as he shot up and turned to his right, looking towards the direction of the footsteps. 

“Buongiorno,” he was so happy his sunglasses were on because his eyes trailed down the legs of the petite woman before looking back at her. “How are you?” 

Shit, George thought as he gulped, she’s actually talking to me.

“I’m great!” It wasn’t as if he had a choice— he had to talk to her instead of fearing that he’ll be screwing it up one way or another. “How are you? Liking the island so far?” 

“Ah yes,” she nodded before peering down the empty spot next to him, “may I sit?” 

“Yes, yes, do,” George nodded eagerly as she smiled gleefully and sat on the empty outdoor chaise lounge, sighing in joy. Forget about her wearing a black beach dress that barely covered her red bikini, her smile was heavenly.

“Thanks,” her Italian accent was the same as Lester’s, George noticed, and her fluency was much better, “I haven’t had a time to sit down for a moment until the little ones settled.” 

“I’ve got a niece and a nephew,” he chuckled, “my sibling struggles a lot too.” 

“It’s good that they’re out for a nap,” she said, “because I get to see the beach peacefully before they start causing havoc later.”

“It must be something you’ve missed,” George laughed. “Having a peaceful time on the beach.” 

“Yes,” she nodded in agreement, “having two under six is not exactly suitable for struggling mothers.”

“Sorry to hear that,” George spoke softly. He really did feel bad for her. 

“Meh, that man is a coward,” she stated with a shrug, “he left because he can’t handle a woman who’s doing a much better job in business and in parenting— sorry, I did not catch your name?” 

“Oh! Yikes, that’s true,” George grimaced before sticking his hand out, “‘m George. I’m one of the poor souls who have been causing problems on the island since Monday.” 

“Ah, that explains why you’re here in the silence,” she joked as she reached out to shake his hand. “Kara Eleanora. I am one of Lorelei’s older sisters.” 

“Really?” George’s eyes widened, pretending as if he hadn’t seen her hop out of the boat earlier. “So you are the Nora that Daniel talks about.” 

“I have a feeling that he is talking about me in a poor manner,” Nora laughed quietly.

“No, no,” George shook his head, “he tells us a lot about Lester’s siblings— he loves all of you, really. He recently told us about your baby’s christening.”

“He is Marisa’s godfather,” Nora grinned, “my Gabby’s godfather was his father’s friend, and I have trusted Daniel more than I had trusted the pezzo di merda’s asshole friend.” piece of shit.

“He is trustworthy,” George nodded. “At least you know that he’s a permanent fixture.”

“I can’t help it; he’s in every group chat our siblings have whenever we’re all away,” Nora laughed loudly as George followed along, “nobody wants to be as involved in their partner’s family as him— it’s no wonder why Pa allowed him to propose.”

“So, Nora, tell me more!” 

Lando Norris didn’t like snitching, he swore. He wouldn’t do it purposefully, he’d do it because his big mouth couldn’t stop itself from doing so. 

So when he made his way back to the beach to see how George was, he hid behind the shrubs when he caught sight of the tall British man walking down the shore alongside a woman who was a foot or two shorter than him. He gasped quietly, trying to grasp the scene in front of him. 

The McLaren driver did not like snitching, but his fingers acted faster than his brain did when he sent a message to someone. Or rather… some people.

Lando: The Prince is with a lady. I repeat, THE PRINCE IS WITH A SISTER!!

It didn’t take long for Carlos Sainz, Pierre Gasly and Alex Albon to arrive, leaning down at Lando’s level before the British man nudged his head towards the direction of the duo. Wordlessly, the three men looked at the walking figures. 

Then they took off, with Lando begging for them to come back and don’t do something stupid. But it was too late for that. 

“Oi, George!” Alex hollered, making the couple turn around with a frown, “I thought you were alone here?” 

“I was,” George said slowly, his face etched a look of confusion before it turned into a glare, “but the three of you obviously decided that I shouldn’t be anymore.” His glare said not to screw it up for him while Nora remained on his side, but the three weren’t about to let him win.

“Oh, hola,” Carlos said politely, putting on his trademark smile as he offered his hand to shake, “I’m Carlos. What’s your name, hermosa?” 

“Kara Eleanora,” she grinned charmingly before shaking his hand, “you’ve got quite the accent— are you from any other country, perhaps?”

“Spain,” Carlos grinned smugly at the boys. 

It only started there. Lando didn’t even want to replay their Wednesday after that first encounter with an Alessandro sister. Only wanting to replay the one that he had with the youngest one. 

The night seemed to end early for everyone. By the time the sun began to set, the Wolffs arrived on the island with Stevie, her newborn and Daniel’s best friend, Scotty and his wife Chloe Stroll. They arrived rather fashionably early than expected and truthfully, Lester and Danny were more than grateful.

Stevie had introduced Lottie Hamilton to everyone just as the model arrived. The baby was only 8-week old yet she already stole the hearts of the adults on the island. Danny and Lester spent their time around the baby with some of their nephews and nieces hanging around them, asking the adults if Lottie would race too– because Lina’s son Andrea would like to race like his Zio Daniel. 

The time seemed to pass by quickly, because the couple’s endless conversation with the Hamiltons lasted longer than expected. Daniel and Lester waved goodbye to the two before they got ready for dinner.

During the Alessandro-Ricciardo dinner, Lando took it upon himself to walk around the island. Had it been for the pathways made and lights outdoors, he probably would have gotten lost on his little adventure. It was during that time when he accidentally stumbled upon the villa where the dinner was occurring, and as always, he had accidentally listened in on the conversations shared between the family.

Meanwhile, the Alessandros sat on one side of the table and the Ricciardos on the other. The kids were occupied on their own table and had no intention of talking to the adults anytime soon. Daniel’s nephew, Isaac, had taken it upon himself to keep an eye on the little ones - to which Daniel thanked him and swiftly handed the child five euros and 20 Australian dollars, telling him not to tell his mother about the money. 

“I don’t know if this is like a coincidence but Mom’s name is Grace,” Daniel’s sister, Michelle, started, “and Lori’s mom is…”

“Grazia!” Lando heard Mateo’s laugh throughout the location followed by others as they laughed along. “And you know what, Michelle? Her maiden name is even funnier.”

“Oh no,” Lester laughed, “right, mio caro, remember what I told you about Mama?”

“The maiden name? Yeah, how can’t I,” Daniel snickered, “Mom, Mama’s maiden name is Riccardo.”

“Really?” Lando would pay to see the shocked look on Mr. and Mrs. Ricciardo’s face. “Is it really?”

“Sí,” Grazia responded, “my papa’s family business happens to be Siena’s famous local winery– La Vigna E La Cantina Di Riccardos. It’s been running for many decades now. The Riccardos are very famous in our town.” The Riccardos’ Vineyard and Winery.

“I would have gotten a deal to produce wine from their business with Lori’s uncle,” Daniel told them, “if she had told me in the beginning.”

“Am I just the means of your successful business, mio tasso?” Lori said. She hadn’t really needed to tell him that. She and her siblings did not have much connection with the winery, after all. Her mother, Grazia, worked there briefly and had earned enough in the place. She owned parts of the winery, of course, but there was only enough to do and enough money to earn in the place. So Lester didn’t feel the need to tell him about it if she’s not involved in the business.

“No,” Daniel shook his head and huffed, earning a giggle from Lori, “stop twisting my words around, love. You’re going to get me in trouble. I only mean that they have better… taste?”

“But we don’t have an I on our Riccardo,” Grazia chuckled, “that’s not confusing, no?”

“You’re an Alessandro,” Lester’s father, Giacomo Alessandro, laughed aloud, “you have not been a Riccardo for years.”

“Besides,” the eldest Alessandro sibling, Jacquelina – or Lina, piped up as she sipped on her sauvignon blanc, “We will only have one Ricciardo by the end of the week. Two– if you include Daniel himself.”

“I like that idea, Lina,” Daniel snapped his finger before he pointed at Lina excitedly, “thank you for reminding us. See? You don’t have to worry about many Riccardos with and without the letter I when it’ll just be me and Lori!”

“Give it a month or two, then there’ll be three of them,” Michelle said, while she wiggled her brows at the couple. The couple shared a look before laughing nervously, their reaction masked as amusement. 

“We’re just saying,” Nora clinked her glass with Michelle’s before sipping, “it would be very nice if the bambinos have a baby for a cousin.”

“We have Maris,” Lester shook her head in disbelief, “isn’t she adorable enough for a cousin?”

“Yeah but, I have heard Isaac and Isabella ask for a baby cousin,” Michelle suggested with a scheming smile. 

“I’ve been hearing it for more than I can count,” Michelle’s husband groaned, “it’s not like it’s easy to shoot a baby out of a woman, you know? It’s hard to explain to them that it takes a lot of work for that to happen.”

Unbeknownst to everyone, the couple had been trying. Nobody knew just yet, because they didn’t want to make a fuss out of it. It had taken a toll on Lester’s mental health, as well, but it wasn’t something that she spoke of aloud. Daniel had taken notice of it, and had immediately sat her down to have a conversation about the matter. She cried so hard that day.

The memories of negative results were still fresh for the bassist, if you were to ask her. She hated tossing out the pregnancy tests knowing that she had to tell Danny that she hadn’t done it. Everybody talks about the wonders of conceiving and pregnancy, but why didn’t they warn Lester about the disappointing and draining part of it? Clearly, they only advertised the positive side of it but provided very little support for those who kept on trying. 

Going to her gynecologist became a constant thing, and hiding it from Danny wasn’t easy. What was she supposed to do? She was already failing and she wasn’t even a mother yet. Daniel didn’t know how terrible it was until the day she declared that she was going to see an online therapist during her tour. He couldn’t even believe that his fiancée was suffering from this. He remained proud of her, still. He told her that they’ll find a way. He expressed his admiration for keeping a brave front throughout all of this – telling her that she would be the amazing mother bear that their kids would have.

The therapist wasn’t a secret to anyone, but trying to conceive a baby was. Danny wanted her to have the peace she deserved after those stupid pregnancy tests had failed her. He was upset himself, but Lester was the one blaming her own body for not doing the thing she expected it to do. He could only be there for her, trying and trying. He could only be there for the treatments that she may need, and for the worst things that could happen in the process.

Squeezing his hand below the table, Lester shot him a smile. I’m here for you.

He took notice of her smile and grinned back at her, squeezing her hand back. And I will always be here for you.

Lando was so caught up in his own little world that the only thing that brought him back to his senses was a smell of smoke coming from behind him. He turned around and nearly jumped and screamed, watching as the young adult peered at him with a suspicious look. She sat on the bench by the stone fountain, between her fingers was a lit cigarette.

“I know you had a crush on my sisters, but I did not think you would stoop this low,” she laughed quietly, taking a drag before exhaling sharply. 

“I’m not- not stalking,” Lando insisted before gesturing at the pavement, “‘m just walking around at night. Like a normal adventurer– do your sisters know you smoke?”

“They know that every once in a while I do,” she shrugged, her fingers reaching out to offer him the cigarette. Lando shook his head in insistence, not wanting to do that. “I don’t get stressed as often.”

“Yeah?” When she moved to one side, Lando took this as an invite and sat next to her. The smell of the cigarette reeked and Lando was sure his clothes would have the scent of smoke all over it by the time he leaves. “You must be living a chill life then.”

“Bwoaaa… I would not say so,” she wrinkled her brows as she thought of it. “My sisters are successful in life, and I am not– that stresses me out. Besides, you are the one to talk. You are doing what you love and you are making money out of it.”

“I’m sure you have something,” Lando shrugged.

“D’you put this much trust on people you meet, Norris?” She giggled, her accent slipping into a southern one after saying the first word. “Perhaps I have something. Who knows.”

Lando laughed quietly, “You know my name and you haven’t even told me yours. How unfair is that?”

“You’re a professional driver alongside my in-law,” she raised a brow, “you’re not exactly the private kind. Unless you have forgotten that you are famous?”

“I don’t like to brag about it,” Lando waved her comment off, “I prefer bragging about my trophies. Now, trophies– they always have me and my ego going. They show that I have something to prove. Fame is different– you can be famous and still be talentless.” 

“Honest,” she observed with a hum, "sei impressionante.” You are impressive. 

Lando might have understood, or he didn’t, but she didn’t care as she introduced herself, “Nicola Grazia.”

“Nee-ko-la Grat-zia,” Lando said slowly. 

“Or Pepsi,” she grinned, “Lina called me that first but Lo decided to keep it forever.”

“How– oh,” Lando paused, causing the Italian girl to nod and encourage him to speak, “Cola.”

“Yes,” she dropped the butt of her cigarette before stomping on it, killing the burning end of it. “Like Pepsi-Cola.” 

“Well, I’m Lando Norris,” he reintroduced himself, causing her to laugh heartily. “And- I think you’ve been an amazing company so far, Miss Alessandro.” 

“It’s nice to meet my sister’s own pet sewer rat,” Nicola joked, shaking his hand and pulling away. Lando pulled an unimpressed look as she continued, “Lo told me to call you that because she and Dan are the couple from Ratatouille. Do you know Linguini and Colette?”

“Yes,” he muttered in annoyance, reminding himself to give the two an earful tomorrow. 

“You are like their Remy,” Nicola smiled at him cheekily.

“I already got that when you called me a sewer rat,” Lando rolled his eyes.

“I’m jealous,” Nicola sighed before standing up, not even looking back at him as she said, “I’ve always wanted to travel with them for free. I should be their Remy.”

Lando stared at her as she disappeared from his sight, wondering what the hell did the youngest Alessandro sister tell him. He asked himself a lot of questions that night: Did she compare me to a rat AND called me a freeloader? Did I just try to shoot my shot with her by saying she was a good company and accidentally making it sound like I’m insinuating something else? 

She had already caught his attention and the couple just warned them not to try anything with any of Lori’s sisters. But maybe Lando would push his luck a little. 

What’re the chances of him being obliterated to the moon by Lester and Danny? Maybe if he tries hard enough, he’ll be able to get away a little.

tagged mateoales, jacquelinalessandro, nora_alessandro, danielricciardo, loressandro

liked by alex_albon, ethaneskin, landonorris

comments have been limited

ethaneskin li abbiamo avvertiti (we warned them)

colabebe sono tutti ottusi così? (are they all dumb like that?)

landonorris ayo the prince is moving maaaad 😶‍🌫️

pierregasly which royal guard let the prince loose like that?? 🤣

oscarpiastri his royal highness really using that royal w, huh?

colabebe if i see any of these photos released in public, you'll lose your private acc privileges pierregasly landonorris oscarpiastri alex_albon

alex_albon why me??? i've kept my mouth shut since you came

pierregasly alex_albon hehe 😈🐶

colabebe that's strike one mr. gasly

pierregasly i'm sorry 🧎‍♂️

oscarpiastri i will honour your laws maam

landonorris yeah yeah whatever can you please accept george and carlos' follow requests already? thx

[lightleelandslost]

Just anxious and wanting to put this out there

Hey, I don't post here ever. Though I probably should, I feel like it would help me be my authentic self. Anyways I am kind of in crisis mode. This is long but, I need to put it somewhere.

So recently I've triumphed in my Insta account, successfully removing homophobic family and friends so that I could have a social space that felt like mine. I've finally been posting what I want to post, without really worrying about who would see it and how they would react. I've also joined LGBTQ+ friendship groups and have slowly building up the confidence to comment and post occasionally.

I was comfortable, I felt safe and so when a random friendship request came in that didn't immediately raise red flags, I accepted. We talked for a couple days and though a couple things stand out now, they didn't in the moment. We had some things in common and she was easy to talk to. When she sent private photos, I reciprocated even though I wasn't quite ready at that point. But I was lonely and uncomfortable with my body, but the fact that someone wanted to see me made me happy.

Now she threatens to expose them unless I send money.

I, of course, immediately blocked and reported that account and then spiraled into a storm of anxiety that makes me want to delete social media altogether. I think (hope) that they are empty threats. She says she'll send them to my boss and my family and days later nothing has happened. Today she stared a random group chat (under a different account) with strangers (???) and claimed she was going to send them with threats to add more people after she'd already sent them. I've blocked and reported this account as well (which again is passable as a real account at first glance). I took screenshots of those threats, just in case I need them in the future. Insta has not reported any change in their account status, but i'm not expecting much help from them.

I spent 20 minutes searching in a panic trying to find advice for what to do in this situation. Trying to find reddit threads, insta advice, anything advising what to do in this situation until i finally found this very basic advice.

I knew that paying them wouldn't help at all (a. I'm poor, there's nothing in these pockets, b. they'd probably just ask for more down the line) also they never sent demands, just threats and devil emojis. I figure that if this person was going to do anything they would've done something more meaningful by now. So that leaves me to play whack-a-mole and how much anxiety till my heart gives out until they finally give up. If they do send them out I will explain myself, it will be uncomfortable but if they're actually decent people/friends they will be understanding and hopefully supportive.

I do not wish this sort of thing upon my worst enemy. I can't put into words how fast my heart rate and anxiety rise when an insta notification comes through my phone. I hope that this is over soon so that I can build myself up again to where I was before.

I was vulnerable, lonely, looking for a friend, and trying to fit in. I am trying to be kind to myself in this situation but it is hard. I want so badly to shut myself completely out and never try this sort of thing again but I know that this stuff would find its way through anyways and how social media can help connect people with true friends and family. In the future I will be more vigilant and cautious. In the same breath I hope that I am able to be vulnerable again, I have trouble with this, and learn that setting boundaries is okay.

I'm sharing this to A. put everything into words and talk myself through everything that's going on (therapist's on leave, nobody else to talk to) and B. to let others that have gone through the same situation know that they are not alone, this stuff happens sometimes.

All the love

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

Ratchet: He ran right in front of my car.

When Jason had told the paramedic to hit the Joker again, he had only been half joking. Yeah, he WANTED that to happen but he didn't honestly think the man would actually do it. You know, because of morals and things like that. So when he felt the ambulance reverse and hit something a second time, well, pardon him for falling just the smallest bit in love.

Staring up at the paramedic, Jason thought he looked downright angelic, with the light illuminating the back of his head like a fluorescent halo. He must have said that out loud as well because the man replied with a soft snort and a "sure kid, whatever you say" and then Hood was out like a light.

When he woke up, Jason was in Leslie's office, resting on her couch and covered with enough enough bandages that he looked like a mummy.

Well, considering that he was, technically, part of the living dead, maybe it was fitting.

Except for Jason himself, the office was empty. Neither Leslie nor his mysterious angel paramedic was anywhere to be seen and already feeling bored, Jason fished his phone out of his pocket. He immediately took notice of the barrage of texts from his family, ranging from the casual "you need help?" to "IF YOU'RE NOT DEAD, ANSWER". It appeared Leslie had yet to notify his family that he had survived.

Feeling petty, Jason removed his helmet before snapping a quick selfie of hid bloody, bandage covered self and sent it into the family group chat with message "I lived bitch". He then put the chat on mute and went on social media, happy with doomscrolling through the madness that is Gotham Twitter.

Well, he would have doomscrolled if the first tag on trending hadn't been #THEJOKERISDEAD.

His hands shaking, he tapped on the tag and a photo of two familiar women (and one little girl) posing with the corpse of the Joker popped up.

With bated breath, Jason zoomed in on the picture. Harley, Ivy and the pigtailed girl (Will, he thought her name was) were smiling brightly. Ivy and Will were both making peace signs at the camera while Harley were holding up the Joker by his hair.

And shit, it really was the Joker. Even when crushed to shit, he was unmistakable. No one else wore a suit that ugly.

Jason's eyes drifted to the caption of the post.

Guess who I found??? Sadly not the one that killed him but holy shit, it finally happened! #THEJOKERISDEAD #ROADKILL #RESTINPIECESBITCH

'Not the one that killed him.'

A shaky breath escaped Jason as he put down his phone and treaded his fingers through his hair.

When he had told the paramedic to hit the Joker again, he hadn't really considered this a possible outcome. Ok, yeah, most people would die after getting hit by a car (especially if it happened twice in a row) but Jason hadn't actually thought that the Joker would die. It had felt too far fetched.

Jason placed both his hands above his eyes. Took a deep breath. And then he started to laugh.

His body shaking, muscles cramping and tears running down his face, Jason laughed harder than he ever had. His injuries ached but it only made him laugh harder. He managed to calm down enough to open his phone and look at the picture again, only to break down laughing once more.

The door to the office creaked open and Leslie's head popped inside. Her eyes narrowed as she zeroed in on him.

"Did you steal something from my drug cabinet?"

Jason shook his head and smiled so wide that his cheeks hurt. "The Joker's dead."

Leslie nodded. "So I heard. Ratchet complained that it's going to take weeks to get some of the clown out from the undercarriage of the ambulance."

"Ratchet?" Jason perked up. "Is that the paramedic?"

"Doctor. But yes. And if you want to thank him then you'll have to wait, he's just left the Bowery He should be back in," Leslie looked at her wristwatch, "15 minutes, at most."

Jason checked the clock on his phone. It was 4.32 am and Gotham's traffic should already be jammed. "It takes at least 30 minutes to get from the Bowery to here though?"

"Not for Ratchet". Leslie shook her head. "How an ambulance can go so fast I'll never know. Now, rest. He won't be happy if he were to find you running up and around." She started closing the office door before stopping, hesitating. "Oh, and if you can refrain from telling Batman just who killed the Joker, I would be forever grateful."

The office door shut closed with a soft click.

Humming, Jason stared up at the ceiling. Yeah, he wouldn't tell Batman a single thing. That was the least he could do for his new favorite person.

Now, how to convince the man to join his gang and not look totally desperate?

Some opinions down below on why I think these specific characters would be funny to see in this scenario;

-Nightbeat is a detective. Gotham is full of crime. See where I'm getting at? Also, it would be funny if he just casually figured out the batfams secret identities, went "neat" and then just moved on to the next mystery.

-Rodimus would 100% try to become a vigilante. Creates a heroic looking holoform (that looks way to flashy for anything in Gotham) and uses his alt mode as his own batmobile. Batman would find out about his true identity by the end of the week.

-I want to see Megatron accidentally create a criminal empire. Like, he tries so hard to appear like a normal human while trying to find a way home, maybe even opens a cafe or some shit as cover, but he keeps on attracting the attention of criminals. Suddenly he's got hundreds of goons devoted to him, following his every order. Call that warlord rizz.

-Whirl for the same reason as Megatron except he does it on purpose. He wanna do crime! Be a rogue (but one of those cool ones like Poison Ivy and Catwoman)! And punch the Joker. Fuck, he really hates the Joker.

-It would just be funny to see Prowl in this hellhole of a city. Gotham's crime rate is 100%, the cops are corrupt, the law is upheld by vigilantes. Look me in the eyes and tell me that he wouldn't have a fucking seizure. Would kill the Joker for stress relief.

-Look, Starscream would hate the city but he would make it work. He'd make his own place, forge connections, create his own criminal empire. And totally try and seduce Bruce Wayne. You know, for the money and power.

-Grimlock gets found by Robin. Robin sees giant, fire breathing, robot t-rex and goes "hmm, yes, you're mine now" and keeps him a secret from the rest of the batfam.

-Brainstorm would fucking thrive in Gotham. He's a mad scientist, he would have so much fun taking apart the weapons and equipment of Gotham's rogues and vigilantes. Not to mention creating his own. He'd steal the batmobile only to return it two days later, upgraded and decked out with the most insane tech.

-Soundwave has an adoption problem. Batman has an adoption probem. You see my vision? Also, I want him to adopt Robin. And Robin just accepts it because now he gets to hang out with Ravage, Buzzsaw, Laserbeak and Ratbat. Alternatively, just Ravage in Gotham because that would be funny too.

-Rewind thinks Gotham is fucking WILD and he's planning on getting it all on tape so he can show his friends later. He stalks the batfam on their patrols, sneaks into the secret bases of rogues, just to get those good action shots.

-Similar to Prowl, Ultra Magnus would be so fucking vexed by Gotham but while Prowl goes "I FUCKING HATE THIS CITY AND EVERYONE IN IT!", Ultra Magnus has a major case of "I can fix them".

[icallhimjoey]

Today He Loved You Extra

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader part one - part two

Summary: You are an Independent Woman™ but overestimate yourself. You hurt yourself because although very strong, you’re also a dumb bitch and Joe takes care of you. CW / disclaimer: mention of blood, mention of fingernail missing, rpf (don’t read if this makes you uncomfy), fem!reader, mention of Joe's mother and stepdad (i do not know these people obviously, so everything is very made up) (as is joe btw) (you get it)

Author’s note: did my best to very quickly write a second part to this after getting requests for it - i LOVE your feedback, very muchly appreciated

Word count: 4k ————————————————————————————  “Come on, you can cry in the car,” Joe said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and squeezing you tight, guiding you out of the building. And so you did. They were mostly frustration-tears at this point, but you let them flow, happy to get them out of your system. Joe drove, one hand firmly around your thigh, thumb rubbing up and down to soothe you. When you noticed Joe wasn’t driving back to your apartment, you turned your head to look at him. He noticed but kept his eyes on the road.    “Mum made us lunch,” he reached to grab your hand and pulled it towards his mouth to kiss it. 

You let your head fall back against the headrest and sobbed. 

Whilst you’d been trying to your best not to cry in the doctor’s office, Joe had sent a photo of the waiting room into a family group-chat. His mother had immediately called him. She’d been adamant you’d come over for lunch just to take that off of your hands. 

Mum made us lunch. 

The love radiating from the short statement was exactly the wrong thing to hear in this emotional state. Joe’s hand clasped onto your thigh for the rest of the drive, and you held onto his wrist, only shortly letting go every now and then to wipe your wet face dry.   

Stepping inside, the smell of good food hit you and both you and Joe inhaled deeply. You were greeted by an incredibly excited dog, who you bent over to pet. 

“Sunday roast,” Joe whispered, practically drooling. 

“That’s for later, love,” Joe’s mum greeted you, pulling Joe in for a hug first, a quick short embrace. She then pushed him further into the house before hugging you. His mother’s comment made him pout. “We’ve got chicken club sandwiches for now, crisps on the side,” she squeezed your shoulders after pulling back from your embrace.

“Darling,” she started, giving you a look.

“It’s nothing.” You were quick to try to minimize her pity, showing her your bandaged finger. “I can take the bandage off when it gets annoying, a plaster will do fine after,” you smiled, doing your absolute best to not have her worry over you. But she scanned your face, your eyes red-rimmed and a bit glassy still. She rubbed both your arms roughly, warming the skin, and said, “Must have hurt.” And she was right. It had hurt. 

Her hands found your face, thumbs rubbing the rough skin under your eyes, and you dropped the act for just a second. Your eyebrows scrunched up, and she hugged you again, tighter this time. You just stood there for a while. 

“Listen poppet, Joe can do things,” she started, making you laugh. 

“I know,” you simply said, knowing what she meant, and not wanting to argue.

“Let him!” 

“I’ll try.” 

There were sandwiches on the table outside in the garden, and the two of you joined Joe and his stepdad. Joe had his phone out and was swiping through his gallery, showing him your kitchen. The place looked like an IKEA warehouse. Flat-packs everywhere, surrounded by tools strewn about. But a couple of new cabinets in their new spots were really stealing focus. Joe's stepdad gave advice on what to tell the builders to do. 

“She’s renovating this herself!” Joe beamed, leaving his stepdad to look at you over his glasses as you sat down at the table.

“The whole thing?”

“Well, I’m trying.”

“Have you done this before?”

“Nope. Hence…” you lifted your bandaged finger and pointed at it. 

The expression on his face didn’t change, but a rattly deep inhale filled the air with judgement. You all understood his trail of thought. Do you even know what you’re doing? 

But you just smiled as Joe leant in to kiss you on the cheek. He was proud of you, and you could feel it radiate from his body. 

“This looks fantastic,” he quickly changed the subject, complimenting his mother on lunch before taking the water decanter and filling both your glasses.

Lunch was good, clearly food made with love. Eating with your non-dominant hand wasn’t very practical, but you had made sure every last crumb had made it into your mouth. 

The August sun was beaming down on you, and Joe had slid his sunglasses from their position in his hair onto his nose. He looked sexy, you thought. Even stuffing his face with bread and crisps, the salty grease of them leaving his lips shiny – still sexy. 

No one let you help clean up afterwards. “Don’t worry, darling, we’ve got it.” His mother had said, looking at both men and ushering them to clean up after themselves, bringing the dishes inside and stacking everything neatly into the dishwasher. You took a silent blissful moment to yourself, lifting your face up towards the sun and closing your eyes. You loved summer. It brought out tiny little freckles on your nose that would fade fast come autumn, not to be seen again until the next year.

You heard chatter inside, but it was too far away from you to follow the conversation. You turned to look into the kitchen and saw Joe hugging his mother again. A sweet moment shared between mother and son, him patting her on the back until she pulled away and gave a wet kiss to his cheek, making him scrunch his face and wipe it dry with his hand. It wasn’t long before they all joined you outside again.

“So, when are you going to redo your kitchen, eh?” Joe’s stepdad looked at him as Joe lit a cigarette.

“It’s all good fun, pretending to be different people in front of cameras,” his mother put down an ashtray in front of her son and tutted at her husband as he hinted at Joe not having a real job. 

Joe didn’t bite though, instead raising your arm and squishing it with his big hands. “I won’t need to do any hard labour for the rest of my life, look at these guns!” The sentence barely made it out of his mouth, his cigarette clutched between his lips. It made all of you laugh.

The rest of my life, Joe’d said. The comment made you swoon.

“Joe’s too busy getting all these callbacks anyway,” you switched focus to him, Joe’s demeanor instantly shy but his smile spread wide as he tipped some ash from his cigarette into the ashtray. His mother was immediately on his case about it. What parts? For theatre? TV? Film? What locations? Abroad? Joe undersold his success – you knew he’d gotten a part he had to turn down because of scheduling conflicts with another project he’d gotten a part in. First world problems - ones lovely to have. But Joe didn’t mention it. Too humble for his own good.

On your drive back to your place, Joe had looped his arm around yours and cradled your bandaged hand close to his chest. It was impractical, you had to lean over the center-console quite a bit to sit comfortably, but it was very cute. He made sure he held your finger upright so it wouldn't hurt as much.

“Thanks,” you suddenly said, the word out of your mouth before your brain could fully catch up. 

“You’re welcome.” Joe responded, almost automatically, followed by a silence. 

“For what?” he then whispered loudly out the side of his mouth, making you laugh.

“Just…” you shrugged. “Everything today. All of it.” 

“Hmmm,” Joe nodded slowly, then inhaled sharply through his teeth. “Not sure what you mean exactly, gonna have to be more specific with me sweetheart.” Cheeky. You shoved him slightly with your arm, not too much since he was driving.

“You’re welcome.” He was sincere that time, voice much softer.

It wasn't much later that you were back at it in your kitchen. A bead of sweat rolled slowly from the back of your neck down your spine. You could feel it disappear into your top, your focus elsewhere. Your grip on the drill was as tight as you could manage it, determined not to strip another screw as you held the furniture piece in its correct position until your drill loudly rattled, signaling that the screw couldn’t be twisted any tighter. Hunched on the floor in the middle of your living room, you admired your work as the back of your hand rubbed across your forehead, the gauze covering it catching your sweat.

Getting up out of your crouched position, it felt nice to stretch your legs. You gave the cabinet a nudge, and it felt sturdy, causing a smile to spread across your face. 

You were doing this. 

It wasn’t going very fast, and half the time you realized halfway through doing something that you’d been doing it wrong and needed to start over but… you were doing this.

You looked around, scanning the mess you’d made, and annoyance built but quickly ebbed away as your eye fell onto your boyfriend on the sofa. He had pages of scripts on the coffee table, white paper covering the full surface of it. His headphones were on top of his head, a laptop open on his lap and he was doing research. You could see from where you were stood that he had found a lengthy Wikipedia page to read. Something to do with a character, you were sure. Acting was all fun and games, his stepdad had been right before, but people always forgot the amount of revising it would take. Or, at least, the amount of revising Joe would do. You could never.

Turning your gaze back into the kitchen, your house was overwhelmingly just cardboard boxes ripped to pieces, large and small, styrofoam protection piled in between, tools scattered, rogue screws, torn up little plastic bags, and instruction booklets as well as other random shit like your flipflops, empty RedBull cans and other things you hadn’t bothered to put into its places because you were busy. Building a kitchen. 

You created some space by mindlessly shoving things aside and ripped open another cardboard box revealing a flatpack for a drawer and an instruction booklet. But you could feel the tip of your finger beat underneath its wrapping, and it annoyed you, because you didn’t want to stop. Not yet.

"Do you need some help?"

You hadn’t moved for a bit, and Joe didn't fully trust it. Overwhelmed by mess, you started pushing away even more of it; just enough to put this drawer together.

"No, thanks," your voice was flat. 

It’s not that you didn't need any help, but you didn't want any. The whole point of you redoing your own kitchen was the fact that you were doing it by yourself.

You remembered the look Joe’s stepdad had given you earlier that day. What a fun way to encourage someone, you had thought sarcastically. Joe wasn't sure what you were trying to prove, and to whom, but he accepted your answer and got back to his work.

Except then, it didn’t work. The drawer you had just made wouldn’t fit into your just-built cabinet. 

Why?! You'd already built drawers the other day - you knew how to do this! 

You looked to find the instruction booklet, but it had been eaten by the cardboard pieces that surrounded you. 

"Mother fucker," you swore under your breath. 

Joe didn’t hear it, headphones on, watching a YouTube video of a documentary clearly very important and interesting. So, you tried to push the drawer into its space, applying brutal force, knowing logically that it wouldn't make a difference. Your frustration built. And it was hot. And you were sweating. And you had a painful finger with a stupid bandage wrapped 'round it that kept getting caught on screws and sharp corners and-

Too much. You snapped.   A screwdriver flew across the room.    It didn't hit Joe, but it had come far too close for his liking, flying right across his vision.

"All right," Joe's headphones were quickly removed, laptop shut and script booklet folded back to its cover. You could say you didn't need help. That didn't mean Joe had to believe it. He slapped his knees as he got up from the sofa.

Joe retrieved the screwdriver and found you, lying down on the floor in defeat, all rosy cheeks and wet eyes. Mad. At yourself. Joe hinged at the hips and bent to look you in the eye, his head cocked to the side.  

“Listen, poppet,” Joe spoke, imitating his mother’s accent, giving away he’d been listening to the two of you talk that afternoon.

“Joe can do things.” You huffed a laugh through your nostrils and took Joe's reached out hand to pull you up. “Let him.”

Your boyfriend sat down next to you on the floor and massaged your shoulders to comfort you for a second. He then quickly found the instructions you'd not even bothered to really look for. 

Joe was fast to discover your mistake - a fiddly bit of metal screwed into the wrong predrilled hole. He took the screwdriver, turned to your cabinet, and started undoing whatever you had done minutes before. 

And you let him, sitting behind him and resting your head against his shoulder blade. It made Joe stop moving for a second, and he tried to look back at you when he felt you press your lips to his T-shirt. It was a sweet moment, almost romantic had your body not been pumping with adrenaline still. Joe ruined it by holding his right hand over his left shoulder, his palm open and up to high 5 you. 

"Team work!" he said happily making you grin, and you didn't leave him hanging.

"Hey, I need to go home to get some things," Joe said after fixing the drawer. "I'll pick up some Chinese on my way back?" 

After the door shut behind Joe, you decided to move fast. You wanted to finish the drawers for this cabinet before he got back, knowing it’d make you feel accomplished and fulfilled. It took longer than you’d wanted it to, but Joe had shown you how, and a short while later, there it was. Okay. Good. What now

Tidying.

You started stacking cardboard pieces on top of each other in an attempt to at least create some sort of path in the house. But you weren't sure the growing pile of brown material was a real improvement. You then started kicking tools into a pile, knowing Joe would be so very impressed if he'd walk back in to see your place somewhat in order. 

This part of it, at least. 

You stepped on a screw and yelped, cursing at yourself. 

There’s no time for this. 

Joe didn’t live far from you, he’d be back in no time. But then you noticed the greying gauze on your hand. Dirty. You hadn't wanted to change it until you absolutely needed to, like when you’d shower, hesitant to see what it looked like underneath. 

At the same time, having the nasty gauze shove Chinese food into your mouth in a little bit was not on. So you decided you’d shower now, leaving your half-finished tasks in the room.  You’d left the bathroom door open just slightly, filling the house with the sound of running water, a sliver of steam slowly pouring into your hallway. 

You hadn’t heard Joe let himself back into your apartment, so you jumped slightly when you suddenly saw a figure open the bathroom door further. 

“Just me,” Joe was already taking his clothes off, and you tried to watch him undress from underneath the hot water stream, eyelashes working hard at keeping water from dripping into your eyes. Joe stepped in, and you moved aside a little, letting him step under the shower-head to wet his body. Your arms wrapped around his waist from behind, and you pushed your cheek against his wet skin of his back, catching cascading water with your face.

“Your bandage!” Joe yelped suddenly when he was about to settle his arms onto yours, grabbing your wrist and trying to pry it off of him to get it out of the direct hit of water. 

You held on tightly though. It was already soaked. Didn’t matter anymore. 

Joe awaited your response, but you didn’t say anything and instead gave him a soft kiss on his back just like you’d done before when you were sat on the kitchen floor. 

Then, Joe scratched a fingernail at the brown tape, and started to unravel the bandage slowly, careful not to hurt you, the wet gauze slowly making its way down until it touched the bath and then dropped completely. He inspected your finger as well as he could, water still pouring down his head. Most of your nail was missing, and there were tiny little scabs on the sides that had been responsible for the dripping blood that had ran down your hand that morning. The skin of it looked angry, bruised dark, and you flinched as the water hit your exposed nail-bed. Joe’s palm wrapped around it tightly, covering it completely before turning around to face you.

“Doesn’t look half bad,” he said, squeezing his fist a few times before opening his hand to let you see it for yourself. You frowned at the sight. “Gross.”

Joe used both hands to push your hair back, tilting your head backwards in his strokes and leaning in for a kiss. When you tried to pull back, Joe didn’t let you, instead building intensity. His mouth opened as hot breaths escaped his lips onto yours. One of his strong hands found your neck and some of his fingers curled around your jaw. His other hand lingered on the small of your back, squeezing into your side with his thumb. 

Joe would sometimes just suddenly need to kiss you like that. You’d share nothing more than little quick pecks for days, and then suddenly, he would decide that little pecks wouldn’t do. Not enough. He’d need more of your mouth.

Sometimes he’d do it at the most inappropriate of times: just before you were headed out to meet a friend. Or right before he’d have a meeting, shooting himself in the foot. It would leave both of you horned up, bruised mouths, having to hold off for hours until you’d see each other again. It was the cruelest form of foreplay.

And this had been one of those times. You knew there was food in the house that was cooling down fast. You had just wanted to quickly rinse off the day and had planned to be out of the shower by now.

“Jesus,” you panted, finally breaking free from Joe. “I just quickly wanted to wash my hair.” You poked Joe’s side, making him flinch into his muscles there in a knee-jerk reaction. Joe reached for the shower gel, squeezed some into his open palm before rubbing them together aggressively, stepping aside slightly to let you have a turn under the shower-head. Your back was facing him when he started massaging the suds onto your neck and shoulders. You relaxed under his touch, head hanging down low, the warm water hitting the back of it. You just focused on Joe’s hands, eyes closed, mouth opened slightly to be able to breathe. You heard another shampoo bottle open when Joe’s hands left your body momentarily, a couple of seconds later, you found them placed evenly around your skull, tilting it backwards before he started washing your hair. Joe massaged you with much more care than you’d seen him treat his own scalp, his fingers firm, but movements slow.

“I never want to wash my own hair ever again,” you felt yourself slowly turn into a puddle under his touch, making Joe grin to himself.

The two of you gave each other turns under the shower-head, your dance in and out of the stream entertaining the two of you. This shower was too small for two people to actually shower in at the same time. It would always leave one person shivering on the side. When Joe thought you took too long getting the shampoo out of your hair, he towered over you to wash his face, most of the water completely missing you as a result. 

You helped him by using both your hands to wipe across his facial features, carefully caressing his closed eyes. When Joe moved back, you were surprised by the water suddenly hitting you in the face as you’d been looking up at your boyfriend. Joe copied your moves, slowly wiping your face clean of invisible dirt, thumbs stroking down your eyelashes.

Joe got out of the shower before you did, and when you were sure your hair was free of shampoo, you turned the tap and got out as well. Joe greeted you, already dried off and in his boxers, holding open a big towel for you to step into as he wrapped it around your shoulders, automatically hugging you in the process. You shivered slightly, tucking your chin into the towel until it covered your mouth too. The cool air coming in through the door from the hallway gave you goosebumps, and you looked up at Joe through wet eyelashes clumped together as he pulled back from his embrace. 

"Handsome." you said slightly muffled by the towel. 

"Pretty." he replied before kissing you on the forehead and letting go off you completely, stepping out of the bathroom to get into some comfortable clothes fit for a night on the sofa.

“Joseph Anthony Francis Quinn…” you used his full name, shock in your voice as you stepped back into the living room freshly showered. 

Joe was stood by the opened back door, leaning in its frame as he was watching TV. The sun behind him silhouetted him, one hand in the pocket of his sweats, the other guiding a cigarette to his lips. 

Your voice surprised him and he instantly stepped back, knowing you didn’t allow smoking in the house. But your scolding wasn’t for the smell of smoke which had wafted into the place. Joe had finished what you’d started and tidied the room.

Tools were neatly placed into the toolbox, cardboard neatly flattened and stacked ready for recycling, no mess and no lone screws waiting to be stepped on. Joe had moved dinner to the coffee table where two plates, take-out boxes and two glasses of wine awaited you.

“How long did I take?” you joked, raking your hands through your wet hair to detangle as much as possible. 

“Only a couple of minutes,” Joe finished his cigarette and stepped back into his previous position; shoulder touching the doorframe, hands in pockets and head cocked to the side. Smiling at you, one eye squeezed shut; the light outside still bright. The cutest. Sometimes you really fancied your boyfriend, as if your crush was new and butterflies would take you by surprise.

You noticed the small first aid kit on your sofa. Joe followed your eyes. 

“Ah yes, come here,” one of his arms stuck out to find yours, the other reaching for the kit and placing it on top of his lap as he sat down, pulling you down next to him. He dug around for a second and his fingers found clean gauze and tape. “A plaster should do,” you said, inspecting your own finger, only then noticing it had started bleeding again. You hadn’t been careful enough when drying off.

Joe disagreed.

“You rearrange the bed in your sleep.” He made a fair point. 

Your body seemed to need to find a different better position to rest in every couple of minutes in your slumber. Sometimes Joe thought your body didn’t know what comfortable was and would keep searching for it throughout the night. Joe would know to fall asleep before you, or he'd be awake for hours.

You knew he was right. The risk of you hurting yourself when dreaming was greater than when you were conscious, and so you didn’t argue when he took your hand and clamped your arm under his own to give him full access to wrap your finger up. You hovered slightly behind him, just able to look ‘round his shoulders at what he was doing. Joe was gentle, his wrapping not too tight, but tight enough so it wouldn't unfurl too easily. 

“Thank you, Joey,” you forced yourself a moment of sincerity. 

“Today, I love you extra.”  part one 

[missluckycharms]

You, Me and Harry make three. Part One.

Summary: Joey, Izzy and Harry are in a poly relationship. They're head over heels for one another and they can't seem to keep their hands off each another, even when they really need to.

Harry is the Harry Styles, the man who is known for being so open and lovable. He's nervous to let the world see his girls, what would his fans think If he was dating two girls at the same time? And they all shared the one bed and home? He doesn't want to know, he wants them all to himself.

This small story follows the three and their rendezvous together behind the scenes.

Masterlist.

Warnings: Switch!Harry, Mommy kink, slight Daddy kink, FxFxM threesome, fingering, oral sex f+m receiving, Male + Female penetrative sex, Female + Female sex, spanking, choking, hair pulling, sneaking around (?) masturbation and mentions of it, degradation kink, praise kink, dirty talking, anal play, biting, polyamorous relationship.

Warnings apply to both first and second part!

Word count: 3.6k words.

A/N: There will be a part two, keep your eyes out for it. I also envision the women with Blonde and Brown hair, but you can apply any hair colour you want to this scenario, I just wanted to give a description to people who find it hard to imagine people :)

—

Adrenaline.

It's rushing through Harry's veins as he finishes his last concert of his first ever world tour. His body covered in sweat from singing Kiwi and total of three times and his suit jacket is for a fact dripping from all the dancing he did, his body isn't exhausted, no, it's hyped up and he could go out and perform again if he could.

It's a bittersweet moment ending the tour he thinks, on one hand he has more time to himself, more time for friends and family but on the other hand he doesn't get to do what he loves every night for at least another year, which is perform for thousands of people.

The crew is cheering and slapping him on the back as he walks off, the band following him as they all congratulate one another on completing the whole tour. There's tears, tight hugs and even a champagne bottle popped by Mitch, for someone who seems emotionless he was the most emotional one amongst them all. He basically cried into his champagne flute.

Harry pulls himself away from the crew celebration after an hour or two, his phone buzzing in his back pocket non stop as he tried to converse and have a fair well party with his whole crew — he knew exactly who was texting him, and they won't be happy he isn't responding like he usually does.

His phone is filled with messages, some from Joey and some from Izzy and a few more in the group chat they all have together. Harry is scrolling through them all as he sits in the back of the car on the way to their hotel room. He lets out a shaky breath when he sees two photos — one of Izzy wearing a bright pink lingerie set, her dark hair all around her while Joey wears a dark cobalt blue set, her platinum blonde hair vibrant against the lace.

Izzy is laying down as Joey looks at the camera between her legs, the picture being from Izzy's perspective while the second photo is similar, but this time Izzy's panties are off and Joey's head is nuzzled into her pussy.

If anyone knew what Harry Styles was hiding behind the scenes they would be shocked, he's hiding two beautiful women who are in plain sight for all his fans to see, the pair helping out the crew and makeup department on tours while only the three of them know what they do behind closed doors. It's somewhat thrilling to have this secret, it's spurs them on more and even makes them act out and fuck one another in public places, such as Harry's dressing room or even his tour bus when all the rest of the band is asleep — they all seem to get off on their little dirty secret.

Harry never wanted to hide his girls, he feels guilty for doing so. But to protect them and himself from the hate and backlash they would get for this, he settled on keeping them himself only. Sure, there's times where they'd want to go to a restaurant, hold hands all together and feed one another dessert like couple do, but they have to settle on a professional looking dinner, each spread around the table with a large gap between them all as they try and keep their hands away from one another, cameras flashing outside and update accounts flashing the images labelling Harry to be at a business dinner.

It does take a toll on them, some nights they all cry together and hold one another when one of them has to leave and see family, they all aren't ready to tell their families so when one leaves it's like something is ripped from them, it's like they're missing a piece of themselves. Harry is the one who's away a lot, giving the media to calm down on the speculations that Harry is dating one of them — it's mainly always Joey because she's blonde and seen as "Harry's type" because of that, both of his girls are his type.

They take small vacations together, the three of them locked away in a villa in Italy or even in Spain, their own private space to lounge by the pool together or even show affection to one another more openly around the foreign country — but then cameras show up snd Harry is immediately hurrying the girls inside as he pays off the paparazzi to not leak the photos.

It's tiring, they're all exhausted from hiding, but it's what they have to do.

Harry chuckles darkly as he looks at the photos, his hand sliding down to palm himself through his suit pants as he types out a message with one hand, a lazy smile on his face as the driver doesn't suspect a thing.

Harry: told you both to wait, you know what happens when you disobey me, my girls.

It's not long after he sent the message that he's parked outside the hotel, the driver opening his door as a security guard walks out and helps Harry into the hotel under all the preying eyes of fans and paparazzis who seem to love blinding him every second with their flashes and asking him ridiculous personal questions that you wouldn't even ask someone who is on trial.

His security guard walks him as far as the elevator, Harry saying he can do the rest by himself — but in reality he didn't want anyone but him to hear the sweet little moans that are probably coming from his suite right now.

"Couldn't even wait two hours for Daddy, huh?" He says deeply walking into the room, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up as the two girls both look at him on the bed, Izzy nearly passing out from pleasure as Joey smiles evilly from where she's sat between Izzy's legs.

Izzy makes grabby hands at Harry which he immediately melts at the sight, she's the more submissive one in the relationship, leaving Harry and Joey to be the more dominant ones, and when Harry is submissive it's usually Joey fucking Izzy before him as he watches.

"Feeling good pup?" He asks Izzy brushing a strand of her hair from her face, her eyes glazed over and mouth slight parted as Joey teases her, sucking and nipping at her clit as Harry rests beside them both.

"Yes Daddy" Izzy says softly, licking the thumb that Harry brushes over her bottom lip, he slowly pushes it into her mouth as she takes it in with a small whine and suckling noises are heard from her pretty mouth.

"That's a good girl. You enjoying yourself down there?" He asks Joey more sternly, she loves when he's stern with her, while Izzy loves it when he dotes on her.

"Mmh yeah, such a pretty tasting pussy" she teases him, keeping her eyes on his as she licks a big stripe up Izzy's centre, Harry's cock twitching in his pants at the sight as Izzy keeps sucking on his thumb.

"Hope you've had your fun puppies, because you both know how Daddy hates it when you disobey him" he says with a small laugh, the two girls looking at him as he removes himself from the bed, standing tall as he strips down to his boxers.

"C'mere my girls, wanna feel both of you suck my cock" he says palming himself as he watches Izzy cum on Joey's tongue before they both jump off the bed and into their knees.

"I'm only obeying because tonight is your night, prepare for you to lose all control tomorrow, Daddy" Joey says, Harry already knowing she means what she says as he smiles at her.

"I'll look forward to it Jo, darling" is all he says as he runs both of his hands through each of their hairs, one hand on Joey's head with her hair wrapped around his arm, as the other has Izzy's hair wrapped around it, guiding them both to his clothed cock.

"Take me out, go on, know you both missed Daddy's cock" he moans out when they both palm him through his underwear, their hands immediately pulling down his boxers as he kicks them off, standing tall as both girls look up at him innocently through their eyelashes.

They both flatten their tongues and run them up either side of his cock, Harry immediately tightening his grip on their hairs and throwing is head back a little as he grunts under his breathe at the feeling. They both suck the head of his cock, their tongues in each other's mouths a little as they dance along the slit collecting his pre cum as he nearly buckles under the feeling and view he has of his girls.

"That's it, suck Daddy's cock" he breaths out through moans, his eyes fighting to stay open so he can watch every move his girls make.

The room is filled with heavy grunts and moans, small whines and sucking sounds from them all, Harry throwing his head back as he curses loudly into the air, Joey and Izzy working on his cock fast and messily just how he likes it. He's nearly scent into a frenzy when Izzy focus's on his head and pumps the rest in her hand while Joey sucks his balls into her mouth, dribbling and moaning around them which vibrates through Harry's body sending shivers all over and erupting goosebumps on his skin.

"Need to fuck you both now, onto the bed" he says sternly, taking their heads away as they both whine and try to get back onto him. Gentle slaps to their cheeks cause both girls to scurry over onto the bed, kneeling down and watching as Harry rests onto the bed, back against the head board as he begins to stroke himself.

"Izzy, do you wanna ride Daddy first? Yeah?" He asks and he chuckles lighty when Izzy nods in excitement, crawling onto his lap as he welcomes her into his embrace.

"Joey, sit on my face, gonna eat that pretty cunt of yours while I fuck our darling little Izzy" Joey smiles darkly at this, both of them looking at Izzy who's smiling cheekily against Harry's chest, her petite frame lost in his broad one.

Harry lays completely on his back, Joey coming to sit down on his face, as Izzy teases herself with the head of his cock. Joey faces Izzy, their mouths immediately catching in a sloppy kiss as Harry helps Izzy slide himself into her. She doesn't move, she grinds down a little as Joey's tongue explores her mouth, her tattoo hand holding the petite girls face as Harry holds onto Joey's plush thighs, his face nearly being smothered but he loves it — he wants to be smothered by her thighs always.

"Look at you Izzy baby, taking me all, such a good girl for me" Harry says lowly, looking at Izzy from between Joey's legs as Izzy begins to move, Harry immediately grabbing Joey's thighs and sitting her flush onto his face, his nose resting on her tightest hole as his tongue flicks and sucks at her pussy.

"Ride Daddy's cock Iz, fuck yourself until you cum like a good girl" Joey whispers to Izzy, her hand holding the girl by the jaw as she speaks to her, their lips inches apart as Izzy falls apart on Harry, the feeling sending her into oblivion as she bounces harder and faster, erupting guttural moans from Harry.

"Is he making you feel good Jo?" Izzy asks, her voice a slight tremble as she moans loudly watching as Joey grinds herself down onto Harry's tongue with force.

"Yeah, but you're making him feel so much better baby, hear him? Hear him moan into my pussy because of the work you're doing?" Joey asks as Izzy smiles lazily at her, her words making her go faster and faster on Harry's cock which ends in him meeting her bounces with thrusts of his own.

"That's it, fuck her Daddy, fuck her so good" Joey moans out loudly, grabbing Izzy before she crashes down onto Harry, holding the girl in her arms as Harry fucks up into her with all his strength.

"Fuck, yes right there Daddy" Joey moans out, Harry fucking his tongue into her while he fucks Izzy hard, the two girls holding onto one another as Harry pleases them both.

It's not long before they both cum with screams of his name and a mixture of Daddy between them all, Joey being the loudest as Izzy is barely able to speak or keep her eyes open over how fucked she is.

"Feeling okay puppy?" Harry asks when Izzy is laid out on his chest, his cock slipped out of her as she comes down from her high, Joey beside him as they both cradle Izzy and help her calm down.

"M'okay, just tired Daddy" she slurs out, the two helping her lay down onto the bed, Joey laying beside her as Harry positions himself on top of a smiling Joey.

Izzy turns her head to watch the two, Harry immediately bending down to kiss her softly as Joey kisses Harry's jawline and runs her hands over his bare chest lightly, her fingers playing with his dangling necklaces as her legs wrap around his waist, ankles locking behind him.

"My two pretty girls, all fucked out" Harry whispers as Joey pushes her hips up to him, signalling she's ready as he pecks Izzy's face before pulling away and focusing back down on Joey.

"Eager little thing aren't you? Such a slut for Daddy" he says to her, their lips inches apart as Izzy gasps at his language, Joey smirking and enjoying every last word that drips from his mouth towards her.

"You're also a slut for me Daddy, don't lie" she fires back, Harry shaking his head as he lines himself up with her pussy.

"Right now, you're my little slut, take it all for me, yeah?" He says kissing her chest as he pushes himself in, her moans immediately filling the room as Izzy runs her fingers over the lace bralette on Joey's skin, her head right next hers as they both look up at Harry.

"Come on Daddy, fuck me like a whore" Joey whines out as Harry begins to pound into her harshly, his balls hitting her ass as she sets a fast pace that has Joey's eyes rolling into the back of her head.

"You're going to hard Daddy, gonna hurt Jo" Izzy says nearly crying, Harry immediately bringing a hand to her face and cradling it as the other cradles the back of Joey's pulling her hair lightly.

"She likes it hard baby, she likes Daddy to wreck her pussy and call her his little slut" he says softly and calmly to Izzy who pouts before pecking his lips.

"Harder Daddy, please" Joey moans out, Harry immediately thrusting faster and faster as he holds both of his girls in his arms, Joey's legs wrapped around him as Izzy pecks his bicep every now and then with small giggles.

"Yeah? Want it harder, does my little slut want it harder? Does she want me to fucking wreck her and make her unable to walk for days?" He asks sinisterly as Joey babbles and moans under him, her words slurred and her eyes leaking tears at the intense pleasure she's feeling.

"Wreck my pussy Daddy, fucking ruin me, yes!" She screams out when Harry hits her spot over and over again, Izzy's small fingers now rubbing circles over her clit as the two of them coax her towards an orgasm, which hits her hard and fast.

"C'mere, wanna kiss you both before I cum" he moans out, his hips slowly down as his two girls push their heads together so Harry can bend down and take both of their mouths at the same time, their tongues everywhere as they all moan and grab onto one another.

"Come on Daddy, cum for us" they both moan out, looking up as Harry kneels on the bed over the two of them, their hands on their boobs pushing them up as he strokes himself fast, his eyes rolling back and his body covered in sweat.

"Gonna look so pretty painted in my cum, my two pretty babies all fucked out beneath me" he moans out, their tongues out flat as he finally cums, spirts and ropes of his cum coat their chests and some splashes up onto their tongues as they swallow it greedily, their fingers rubbing through his cum painting them more as Harry watches in awe, completely spent.

"I love you both, so much" he says smiling at them, their faces glowing and their own smiles on their faces as they look at him like he's the best thing in their worlds — which he is.

"We love you too H, right Iz?" Joey asks Izzy who's trying to fight off sleep, her small nod and smile is enough for Harry as he coos over how cute she looks, her cheeks blushing at his complements as Joey kisses her face all over making her giggle out, Harry kissing Joey's as they all attack one another with kisses gently with laughs in between.

"Think it's time for a bath, huh?" Joey laughs out as Harry agrees, Izzy laughing also as they both lay next to one another covered in Harry's release.

"Don't move, I'll be back" Harry says, the pair of girls whistling and cheering him on as he runs to the bathroom butt ass naked, his laugh loud as he wets two wash cloths with warm water.

"Are you two ever gonna not laugh at my ass?" He asks kneeling over them again, one hand clutching a cloth and washing Izzy while the other washes Joey and gets rid of his cum from their skin.

"It's funny! It's so soft and squishy looking when it jiggles!" Izzy laughs out, Joey beside her nearly snorting as she laughs along, Harry laughing and shaking his head as he throws the cloths into a laundry bin.

"You have a cute butt Mr Styles" Joey says kissing his nose as he flops his body down onto them, one of their legs resting on his waist as he rests his head between their breasts, both of their fingers running through his hair.

"We can't stay like this" Joey is the first to speak up in a few minutes, sleep nearly taking over them all before she realises they need to clean up and get ready for bed — Izzy needs to do her skincare routine while Harry needs to drink his nightly cup of tea.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Come on, bath time" Harry groans, grabbing his boxers and sliding them back on to avoid anymore comments on his bare ass, the two girls avoid eye contact with him as they bite back their laughs looking at one another.

"I can hear you both laughing!"

"We aren't laughing!"

"Yes you are!"

"Nope!"

The three of them have been dating for almost a year now, everyday bringing something new but their love for one another grows by the second. Harry cherishes small moments with them, heck, he cherishes all moments with them. When they step outside together Harry addresses them as part of his crew to not raise any suspicion. But all he wants to do is scream at the top of his lungs that these two beautiful women are his girlfriends.

Just as Harry is filling the bath, adding Izzy's favourite bath bomb and setting out Joey's favourite body wash for her, a shout and a hard knocking is heard from behind the front door to the suite, causing the two girls laughs and conversation to stop.

They look at him as he holds up a finger to his lips, shushing them both as they nod watching as he heads for the door. He opens it slowly, only revealing his head. Jeff stands outside, his hand running through his hair as he jumps when Harry opens the door.

"There's fans outside, they won't leave until you come out. Please just walk out and show your face or something" Jeff says nearly passing out with anxiety, his hands shaking from how nervous he was being bombarded with the fans who are lined up outside the hotel at nearly midnight.

"Okay, I'll be down in a few" Harry sighs, knowing guilt will eat him alive if he doesn't see his fans, but he'll also feel guilty letting the girls bathe alone and be without him for awhile again.

"We heard, go down to them. We'll have a bath and you" Joey says walking over to Harry, Izzy beside her as they hold hands, Izzy shorter than the two as she looks at them softly. "Can bring us all up some wine when you're coming back up, sound good?" Joey finishes as Harry smiles looking at them both.

"Yes Ma'am's"

[wyattjohnston]

i'll bet you didn't even know - dougie hamilton

summary: Brie really just wants Dougie to be happy, even if that means letting him love someone else. Funny thing is, she might not be the only person who feels that way.

word count: 3,420

It was getting late, so people were starting to leave. Saying goodbye to everyone was always an impossible feat, but Brie always tried to say goodbye to everyone if possible and she tried to make sure Dougie did, too.

“Marty’s heading off,” she said, walking up to Dougie who was experiencing a lull in conversation with a woman Brie didn’t recognise, “you should go say goodbye.”

“Of course,” the woman said bitterly. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

Brie hesitated, taking time to notice Stacey’s familiar facial features that she’d been hiding behind wonderfully styled and newly dyed hair.

“Oh, Stacey, I didn’t recognise you!” she exclaimed, genuinely excited to see Stacey for the first time since she and Dougie broke up two months prior.

Stacey turned to Dougie, her voice shrill and demanding, “How long were we broken up before you jumped into bed with her? Were we even broken up?”

“I beg your pardon?” Brie asked, the conversation losing her immediately. All she knew was that Stacey was far less excited about seeing her again.

Stacey talked directly to Dougie, “You broke up with me so that you could date her, didn’t you?”

“Dougie and I—we’re not dating,” Brie said quickly and defensively, looking between Dougie and Stacey, who had started to cry.

“You don’t have to lieto me,” Stacey spat. “You’re so perfect together. Everyone told me it was only a matter of time before you realised it.”

“I have no idea what’s going on here. I think you two have some things you need to talk about? I’ll talk to you later, Dougie.”

He sent Brie a pleading look, but she didn’t hang around to save him. She felt a little bad that the crying didn’t stop, that the screaming got louder, she just knew that she had been the reason it started and hanging around would only have increased it tenfold.

It was much easier to hover around other groups of people, inserting herself into conversations where she fit or talking a moment to check her phone where her family group chat was being filled with photos of her nieces and nephews with Santa. Nothing was enough to distract her from the argument Dougie and Stacey were having—everyone in the room had taken notice and pretending they hadn’t—or from the way Stacey stormed out of the party with a shrill scream and stomping feet.

Brie was right back by Dougie’s side before anybody else could get to him, whispering, “I’m really sorry, Dougie. For whatever that was.”

“Nothing you need to be sorry about,” he assured her sincerely. The smile on his face was far less sincere, though it was projected more to the rest of the people at the party than at Brie.

“I liked her. I thought she was good for you,” Brie sighed. “Why did you break up? I thought it was because you grew apart?”

“The jealousy got out of hand. I couldn’t not be with her without her asking if I was with you.”

“Oh.”

“It’s not your fault, Brie,” he said, hurriedly, trying desperately to make eye contact with her to prove he was still being truthful with her.

“It kind of is, though. I don’t want to be the reason your relationships end.”

“Just the one, and I’m not super cut up about it.”

A certain amount of alarm entered Brie’s mind at the sincerity of his answer. Despite the intensity of what had only just occurred, he didn’t seem very cut up about the end of the relationship. His discomfort was far more with the scene Stacey had caused.

Brie said nothing more, just brought her glass of wine to her mouth and drained it in one mouthful.

Nicole’s entrance into Dougie’s life—and thus Brie’s—was a dramatic affair. Not nearly as dramatic as Stacey’s final exit but dramatic, nonetheless.

February brought Brady and Gracia from New York, and within a week Gracia had introduced Nicole to Dougie. Another week went by before Dougie was talking about Nicole as if she was the best thing to ever happen to him, and Gracia was drunkenly apologising to Brie for setting them up in the first place.

“It’s fine,” Brie insisted, yet again, as Gracia pouted in front of her.

“No, but if I’d known that you and Dougie were meant for each other I would have kept my big mouth shut,” Gracia stressed. “I just showed up to a brand-new team and immediately fucked it up.”

Brie put her drink down so that she could place her hands on Gracia’s shoulders and look her directly in the eyes as she said, “Dougie and I isn’t going to happen.”

“But it could,” Gracia sighed, “and it would be so fucking cute.”

“Gracia, if Dougie and I were going to be together we would be together. Nothing has ever indicated to me that he sees me that way.”

“You see him that way, though. I think you love him.”

Brie’s mouth snapped shut as she watched Gracia’s frown deepen, she was clearly distressed by what she’d done even if it was exaggerated by alcohol. The team had gone out for dinner and then broken off into smaller groups to head out to continue the night. It was at the bar where Brie met them. Most of them had a head start on her because of the dinner.

“I’m happy to be Best Friend Brie,” she said, and it wasn’t a lie. She found her eyes drifting over to Dougie where he was talking to Jani and Marty and her heart stuttered because there wasn’t a future she wanted where Dougie wasn’t part of it.

“Lowkey,” Gracia said, but it clearly wasn’t lowkey at all, “that’s super depressing. I could never just be Brady’s best friend.”

“I don’t know, you’d be surprised about what you can do just to keep the person you love in your life.”

Gracia didn’t buy it, her pout exaggerating and the sadness in her eyes deepening. Brie had nothing more to say and thankfully was saved from having to find something when Brady walked up to say it was time for them to leave.

Nicole was lovely, truth be told. She fit in seamlessly, too. Brie couldn’t bring herself to dislike her even remotely—which was a conundrum because it only served to make her actually dislike Nicole. Brie remained friendly, though. It wasn’t Nicole’s fault that Brie was in love with her boyfriend.

Brie bought another Aperol Spritz at the bar once Gracia was finally convinced to leave and found her way to Amy and Courtney. Brie always felt at home with the team, and the wives and girlfriends were people she knew she could count on in an emergency. Even more than that, though, they were her friends, and she was comfortable around them—which is why she always showed up after team and family events when things were less official.

“Nicole already fits right in,” Amy said, gesturing subtly to wear Nicole was speaking with another group. “It’s only been a couple of weeks, but I really think she might be the one for him.”

Brie bit into her cheek, agreeing, “She seems really great. He’s been really happy.”

Amy and Courtney began to gush, and Brie let them, because although Gracia had cottoned on to Brie’s feelings immediately, everyone else had just watched Dougie and Brie be themselves. The feelings were gradual, and Brie had been sure to never be overt when they did start to change.

The conversation moved on naturally and Brie followed it, keen to talk about anything else. It almost always came back to Courtney’s kids—who were adorable, so Brie would never complain—and how Courtney was taking full advantage of Marty’s parents being in town so they could have a proper night out.

It grew later, everyone grew wearier, and people started to leave. With fewer people to talk to, Brie made her way over to Dougie for the first time since she’d greeted him. It hadn’t been her intention to stay away from him, and it even had nothing to do with Nicole hanging around him, it was just habitual to catch up with everyone else because she knew she’d get to see him the next day, or at least during the week.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders when she stood beside him, his big grin making her chest warm and her body shiver as she slotted in easily. He didn’t stop talking to the boys, barely missing a word when she showed up, and she settled in for however long the night left.

Until, of course, Nicole moseyed on over. Dougie’s arm left Brie’s shoulders instantly as he drew Nicole into him. Brie stepped aside, the warmth of his body leaving her, and let Nicole fill in the newly created space between them.

Nicole’s laughter filled her ears as Dougie started to tickle her sides, and it was immediately followed by a joyous chuckle from Dougie.

And just like that… Brie knew she wanted Dougie to be happy more than anything and she knew she was going to have to take a step back if it meant Nicole staying around.

“Brie!”

Brie stopped mid-step in the centre of the lobby. A man scoffed at her as he walked around her, but she made no effort to get out of the most direct path to the door. She was far more focused on searching for whoever had called her name.

By the time she spotted who it was and realised they were making a beeline for her, it was too late for Brie to make the getaway she so desperately wanted to.

“Nicole—hey. Um, what are you doing here? At my work.”

Nicole was smiling as though her presence was normal, and she was taking Brie’s hand and pulling her outside.

“It’s Opening Night.”

“I know.”

“You need to be there. Dougie has mentioned it so many times this week. He really wants you there.”

Brie sighed and unsuccessfully tried to take back her hand. She said, “I’m exhausted and starving, and I just want to go home.”

“Please,” Nicole begged. “We can go get food and I’ll drive and if you want, I’ll drive you home and give you some money to get to work tomorrow.”

“Why would you do that?”

“He really wants you there. You’re his best friend and you haven’t been around since last season, and this would mean the world to him which in turn would mean the world to me.”

“Fine,” Brie relented despite her better judgement.

Nicole squeed and dragged Brie to the sporty coupe parked on the street. She started talking about dinner options and the best way to get to the arena and Brie sat in the passenger’s seat and waited for the heart to swallow her whole.

She considered just jumping out of the moving car a la Steve Carrell in Crazy, Stupid, Love when Nicole reached into the back and threw a brand-new jersey at her, stating, “As if I was going to let you go in without one.”

Brie’s heart thudded, her breath caught, and she traced over the red 19.

“He said you didn’t have a Take Warning one yet.”

“Uh, no. I’ve been meaning to, but I really liked the away ones, so I never got around to it.”

Dinner was insufferable if you asked Brie. Nicole didn’t seem to agree if her endless, easy conversation was any sort of proof. Brie managed to shove enough dumplings in her mouth for minimal input which surely did little to stave off her discomfort because she was forced to listen to the entire itinerary of Nicole and Dougie’s vacation to Spain.

“Dougie had a weird aversion to going to Greece, though,” Nicole said with a confused head tilt. “He got quite upset when I brought it up as an idea.”

Brie pushed an entire dumpling into her mouth to stop herself from explaining that it was because she and Dougie had always planned to go together.

Nicole was none the wiser as she moved on to her job.

A victory was on the cards—3-0 over the Canucks—and Brie was happy that she’d been kidnapped. Everyone had been delighted to see her and she had been perfectly distracted from the fact that it had taken Dougie’s girlfriend to get her to the arena.

At least until Nicole grabbed her shoulder and said that they were going down to the locker room.

There were far too many friendly faces waiting for her to make an excuse and get away. She pulled her hands into the jersey’s sleeves and moved to the back of the group with Heather Staal.

And she stayed at the back, hidden, until a few of the players had come and gone. Trying to pretend she couldn’t see how close Dougie was standing to Nicole.

It took an agonisingly long time for Dougie to notice Brie—for Heather to point her out to him. Brie wished it had taken longer. Maybe wished that it had never happened.

Dougie’s hands fell from Nicole’s waist, not in a deliberate way but in a distracted way as he turned his head and made eye contact with Brie. His long legs meant that he covered the distance between them in no time at all and was cupping her face before she had time to register.

“Hi,” he breathed through a wide grin. “I didn’t believe that you were actually here.”

“I’m here,” she breathed back, her heart heaving. “I’m here, Dougie.”

His hands dropped from her face, and she was enveloped in an all-consuming hug. She wrapped her arms around him, buried her face in his shoulder and revelled in how good it felt to be so close to him.

The freeze that washed over her when they pulled apart was the most frigid she had ever felt. Also every pair of eyes was on the pair of them, some shifting between them and Nicole, and Brie had never felt more like a caged animal.

She stepped back, putting distance between them, thanked Nicole for picking her up, and then said the hastiest of goodbyes as she was already walking away. Nobody called out to her, accepting her excuse of an early start at work—or at least accepting that they would not be able to change her mind.

Driving home was exhausting,

Driving home was exhausting, despite not being very long. Keeping her attention on the road was nearly impossible when all she could feel was the ghost of his hands on her face, remembering how easy it would have been for him to lean down and kiss her. Mostly, it was how normal it had been. Almost as if it was something they’d been doing for years when it was the first time he’d ever looked at her with such longing, the first time he’d ever held her like he truly didn’t want to let go.

Brie had barely changed into her pyjamas when her doorbell rang. It was nearing midnight and she had never been more thankful for the camera looking onto her front porch. Until she saw Dougie’s face on her phone. Pulling her robe on, she made her way down the hall with a sick feeling brewing in her stomach.

“What are you doing here? Are you okay? Come in,” Brie said, speaking all in one breath as she pulled Dougie inside by his forearm and closing the door. When he didn’t speak, she squeezed his arm and said worriedly, “Dougie.”

“Nicole broke up with me.”

Brie’s instincts conflicted in that moment—to pull him close and hold him or drop his arm and put ten feet of distance between them.

“I, um,” she stuttered and opted to let go of his arm but not step back. “That’s my fault, right? I tried so hard to be normal and I still fucked it up. Dougie, I’m so sorry—I was keeping my distance so that this wouldn’t happen and then the one nightI’m around—”

“I knew you were avoiding me,” he said triumphantly.

Brie couldn’t comprehend the smile on his face. “Why are you happy? Aren’t you going to yell at me?”

“No? Not even a little bit. She gave me two options about you: I get over you or I finally tell you that I love you.”

The ringing in her ears was so loud that Brie thought for half a second that one of her neighbours was being broken into—it was nothing like that, though, just Dougie standing in front of her as casually as ever, like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb.

“What?”

“I just need to know what you want. The first option hasn’t ever really been successful, but I reckon if I actually hear you tell me I don’t have a chance it might work better.”

“You do,” Brie said around the lump in her throat. “You do have a chance. You’ve always had a chance but—I don’t know. Stacey wasn’t a threat, I guess. You were never going to settle down with her, but Nicole seemed like the girl you would marry.”

“So, you dealt with that by ignoring me.”

“I wanted you to be happy and give her a chance. I didn’t want her to be like Stacey and leave because she was insecure about our friendship—which apparently I was right to do because the first time in like five months that I’m around she leaves you.”

Dougie shook his head, “Technically she gave me two options and I chose to come here.”

“She’s amazing, Dougie. I can’t—”

“You’re amazing.”

“I’m not—”

“Brie, I chose you. No matter how this conversation goes I can’t take that back. There was a little bit there about apparently having a chance and I would like to cash in on that chance.”

“There was a part where you might love me? Can you just—”

“I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time.”

Brie started to nod, frantically, as she stepped closer to him, and her breath was taken away when he cupped her cheeks in his hands again. Warmth ran through her as their eyes met.

She held her breath; Dougie held his.

“You’re not going to wear a jersey? You always wear a jersey to the first game.”

“There are two major differences this year: I used to sit in the crowd, not the family box and this isn’t my team.”

“Of course, it’s your team,” Dougie countered. “It’s your team because it’s my team.”

“Carolina was my team long before you came around. That still doesn’t change the fact that I can’t wear a jersey in the family box without looking like a total asshole.”

“Do you want to sit in the crowd? I can find a way to make that happen.”

“You just want me to wear your name,” Brie said, poking his chest when he stubbornly shut his mouth without protest. “Remember when you got me this very, very nice bracelet with your name engraved into it? I always wear your name.”

Brie let the sleeve of her jacket fall, so Dougie could stare down at the hand poking him and see the exposed Cartier bracelet. Pressed against the inside of her wrist “Douglas Hamilton” was engraved into the gold.

“Hamilton’s going to be yours one day, too, I just want you to get used to it.”

He was smug, at least outwardly so, when he said it. It wasn’t the first time Brie had heard something from him that hinted at marriage and a future, though they were yet to sit down and have a serious discussion about what it all entailed.

“Did you make it a weird hockey superstition that I need to be wearing your jersey to the first home game?” she asked instead of reacting like she knew he wanted her to.

“Maybe a little. You being there is the more important part,” he conceded.

Brie kissed him, wrapping her arm around his neck to give herself some leverage and hold him close. He returned it passionately, one hand making its way into the hair at the back of her neck. It never got old, him being near her and being able to kiss him when she wanted.

An entire year later and it—and he—was still blowing her mind.

Please consider leaving feedback—reblog and write in the tags or send an ask, I’m not fussed. I just want to know what you’re thinking!

[rinkrats]

🥺 that mike lange story. But also those tags #sid loooves christmas #he loves giving presents #looks good in red #piles on the pounds fast #post hockey career as santa 😂😂👌🏽👌🏽

he loves his mementos and presents and is COMMITTED to them. scrapbooking. matching jackets. little pills with hidden motivational messages~*~ his love language is gifts and neck smooches and stalking geno. relevant right now are some anecdotes i sent a friend earlier this year for dorky sid gifts fic fodder:

1. Crosby's constant thoughtfulness would be impressive from anyone, much less someone of his stature.

"Sid always texts me happy birthday, he's always asking me like, how's Russia?" Evgeni Malkin said. "We talk and message all summer. He asks me how my skates are. He knows, like, everything. He follows my Instagram, I think (laughs)."

In addition to having a handle on those little details, Crosby is constantly providing those around him with memories and mementos. If the team is on the road and goes, say, sightseeing or to a sporting event and takes a group photo, Crosby will later send a framed copy to everyone.

When Ron Hextall and Brian Burke watched their first Penguins game in person, Crosby is the one who approached head equipment manager Dana Heinze and asked for two used game pucks to give to the new GM and president of hockey ops. 

After the Penguins won in 2009, Crosby had jackets made for the three players on the team who had scored a Cup-clinching goal in Game 7: Talbot (Pittsburgh), Ruslan Fedotenko (Tampa Bay) and Mike Rupp (New Jersey).

"They were blue jackets with gold buttons, and each one had a patch on it that said 'GWG Game 7,'" Talbot said. "At one of our first team meals the next season, he presented us with the jackets and did a big ceremony with the music and stuff. We had a private room in the restaurant. I still have the jacket."

-The Consummate Teammate, Captain and Ambassador, Feb 2021

2. Merz: My first interaction with Sid was when we were on the bench, guys were talking about a teammate, and the first thing this 15-year-old says is, “Hey, guys. Let’s keep everything positive. Don’t talk about your teammates that way.”

Salcido: When we were getting ready for nationals, he found these little pills that you could put a hidden message inside. They unscrewed, and inside was a tiny scroll. He gave one to every teammate. … He had everyone fill one out. He didn’t tell anyone what to write, but he made it known that we all knew what the goal was: winning nationals. So we wrote on our scrolls, rolled them up and put them in the pill thing. We kept them with us everywhere we went.

-‘Is this real?’: Stories of Sidney Crosby’s year at a Minnesota prep school, May 2020

3. On “Butterfly Boy” Jonathan Pitre:

Though the Senators are his team, Sidney Crosby has always been Jonny’s favourite player. After the TSN documentary airs, Tina gets a call from the Penguins. Sid needs Jonny’s measurements. He wants to have a suit made for him by his personal tailor, Domenico Vacca.

“It’s the kindest, sweetest gesture,” Tina says. “Sid heard that Jonny went to a lot of games, so he wants him to look like he’s one of the guys.”

“I want him to feel like a pro,” Crosby says. “Here’s a guy who is going through something so painful, and his first thought is always, ‘How can I help others?’ When I was young, I’d watch on TV the players coming to the rink in their suits. That was a cool part of being an NHL player. I want him to feel that, to make it as real as possible for him.”

Tina tries to discreetly measure Jonny while she’s changing his dressings. But he’s way too smart for that.

“Um, Mom, why are you measuring me? Am I going for surgery again?” he asks.

“No, no!” Tina replies, trying to reassure him and come up with a good lie, all in the same breath. “The doctor needs them just to make sure they have proper dressings next time you are in.”

A few weeks later, the sharp navy blue suit shows up at their front door, along with a couple of ties, an autographed stick and a handwritten letter from Sid. 

“His eyes just light up,” Tina says. “Jonny always liked to be well-dressed, and he just loves having his own suit. It fits perfectly. He looks so good in it.”

-Beauties by James Duthie (2020)

4. Pascal Dupuis inspired his Pittsburgh Penguins teammates on their run to the Stanley Cup, and Sidney Crosby found a special way of driving that message home.

Dupuis retired in December with lingering health concerns because of blood clots. Despite his NHL playing days coming to an end, the veteran forward remained an integral part of the Penguins and was in uniform to hoist the Cup after Pittsburgh's six-game win against the San Jose Sharks in the Stanley Cup Final.

On Sunday, Dupuis brought the Cup home one last time as a player to share a special day with his family, friends and hometown fans.

"Yes, it does feel bittersweet a little bit," Dupuis said. "You get the Cup, you want to celebrate. But at the same time I got a gift by the mail [Saturday]. Basically, it's a book of all the pictures of all the good stuff we went through. It came from Nova Scotia, so you guys can figure out who it came from (Crosby), but he couldn't give it to me during the season, he saw me skating a little bit.

"And he sent it [Saturday], before my day with the Cup, so he knew what he was doing to get me right here," Dupuis said, putting his fist over his heart.

-Pascal Dupuis shares Stanley Cup with family, friends, Aug 2016

5. In 2011, Crosby was out of the lineup with a concussion, and the Penguins made their annual visit to Children’s Hospital.

Crosby got along so well with one boy there and was so touched that he later asked Bullano to go back... just the two of them, no cameras, no attention.

When Bullano and Crosby met for the follow-up visit, Crosby appeared clutching a pair of Toys “R” Us bags, filled with a Transformer toy the two had discussed.

“He literally bought every type of this toy they make,” Bullano said. “[Crosby] had never seen it before and thought it was so cool.

“There are no pictures of this. There’s no video. He was laying in the bed with the kid. They were just playing. We were there for over two hours. I got to know the mom really well because we were just sitting there.

“The kid had no idea. Didn’t expect it. They had no idea he was coming. We got there and he said, ‘Hey buddy. hope you don’t mind that I came back.��� The kid couldn’t believe it.

“[Crosby’s] crazy cool about stuff like that.”

What’s crazy is trying to recount the many times stuff like this has happened with Crosby:

• The Little Penguins Learn to Play program has been around for nine seasons, outfitting now 1,200 kids with free head-to-toe hockey equipment. Not only does Crosby serve as the face of the program — which the NHL has now adopted — but he helps fund it, too.

“There’s an awareness of what a person in his position can bring,” Penguins vice president of communications Tom McMillan said. “I think he activates that as much as anybody I’ve seen during his playing career.”

• After a recent practice, Crosby noticed a local family in the Penguins dressing room, approached them, introduced himself, learned their story and wound up giving them a signed stick.

Nobody asked Crosby to do that, and he wanted zero credit when discussing it a couple days later.

“For people who have the opportunity to come in here, people dealing with certain things, if you can brighten their day a bit or spend some time with them, it’s something that’s special for all of us,” Crosby said.

• A few years ago, through a team charity event, Crosby befriended a 4-year-old Amish boy with cancer. Crosby remarked to Bullano how much he loved talking to the boy because of how engaging the boy was and how he wasn’t consumed with technology. Crosby even tried to visit the boy but learned he had passed away.

• He learns the first and last names of the kids who attend his hockey school in Cole Harbour, Nova Scotia.

“Two kids came from Japan its first year,” Bullano recalled. “He was so blown away by that. He couldn’t wait to meet them.”

• Earlier this season, the Penguins welcomed Grant Chupinka, 24-year-old cancer patient, into the dressing room. Crosby chatted up Grant and his parents, Steve and Kim.

He spent his usual time — about two or three times the requirement. Gave the tour. Then found out the Chupinkas didn’t have tickets for that night’s game and decided he would pay for them to go.

“I’m sure he could just give them an autographed puck or something, but he takes his time to go out and see them and talk to them and get to know them,” Brian Dumoulin said. “It speaks volumes for him and who he is as a person.”

Spend any length of time with Crosby during his visits with those less fortunate, and a few things become obvious.

One, Crosby is really good at these. Smooth but not in a slimy way. Sweet. You know how when you’re around someone talking and they go out of their way to make eye contact with everyone around? That’s Crosby.

He’s also humble, always introducing himself like those he’s meeting don’t already know. Holding a hand is no issue. And Crosby is the rare 20-something pro athlete without kids who acts every bit like he does.

“It is not an easy situation to talk to someone with terminal cancer,” McMillan said. “A lot of people couldn’t do that. He has an amazing ability to do that and make that person feel good.”

Crosby has welcomed several Make-a-Wish kids and tries, if at all possible, to schedule such events for practice days — to maximize the time he’s able to spend.

He’s developed a special friendship with Patrick McIlvain, a soldier who nearly died when he took a bullet to the head in Afghanistan. McIlvain actually does physical therapy with one of Crosby’s sticks.

A former club hockey player at Cal U, McIlvain comes by every year, and the Penguins don’t even bother to tell Crosby. Either he already knows or immediately stops what he’s doing to come say hello.

“He’s not doing it to leave a legacy,” said Terry Kalna, Penguins vice president of sales and broadcasting. “His numbers leave the legacy. He’s just a down-to-Earth, good guy.”

Before a visit, Crosby has Bullano email him what is essentially a scouting report on who he’s going to meet. He likes to learn about them, their situation and what they’ve been through. As much information as he can ingest. Crosby never just swoops in, shake a hand and leave.

“As much as anyone has ever seen, he accepts the responsibilities of being not just a professional athlete but a star professional athlete,” McMillan said. “He views it as part of the job. Like coming to the morning skate. That’s just what you do.”

Put another way, “he owns those moments,” says Kalna.

Said Bullano, “He’s just a good human being.”

-When it comes to giving, Sidney Crosby does as much as he can, Feb 2017

6. When Crosby received a generous signing bonus on his Reebok deal, he wanted to share it with everyone.

“He gave everyone on the bus gifts,”  says Oceanic radio commentator Michel Germain. “Him sharing his bonus with all the people he’d been travelling with for two years, that impresses me greatly. I think the most important thing about Sidney Crosby is his personality and the kind of human being he is. What he exuded. The inner richness he’d already developed.” 

-Superstitious and generous, Dec 2006

7. also this simply because it makes me ;w;

Even in defeat — no, especially in defeat — Sidney Crosby proved why he wears the "C" for the Penguins.

After the game, with his heart sinking and his season over, the Penguins’ captain bent over, sank to the ice to pick up the puck, took it to linesman Tony Sericolo and then skated to his team’s handshake line.

I immediately thought of a View from Ice Level I’d written on Crosby making sure a retiring official was sent away from PPG Paints Arena properly. I knew picking up the puck wasn’t for the same reason that was, but I also knew, in some way, it was connected to Crosby’s awareness and respect of the game.

“It was for the Islanders,” Crosby told me after the game, his eyes swollen from a first round exit – by way of a sweep to make it worse. He told me how the winning team always wanted the puck, and it was his way of providing it for the Islanders.

Crosby looked me right in the eye as he told me this, just as he did with every other member of the media to come to him after the loss.

I could tell from those swollen eyes and the way he sat at his stall, by himself with his hands folded as he stared blankly, that Sidney Crosby is much more used to being on the receiving end of a puck when a series ends than he is at retrieving it for the winning team.

That scene. His swollen eyes. Staying in the locker room until most had left – talking to anyone who needed him. Most of all, though, picking up the puck that prompted my question in the first place and making sure the right people got their piece of their own history.

It all adds up to one thing: In victory and in defeat, Crosby respects the game above all else – just as he’s always done.

-Even in defeat, Crosby shines, April 2019

[heytherejulia]

Rude ~ Harry Holland

pairing: dad!Harry Holland x mum!reader

warning: angst but ended with fluff, probably some swearing, harry being mean to his child

summary: Harry is overworked and snap at his daughter

word count: 1,8k

Harry was overworking himself. He worked too much, too long, and too hard, and it all made him feel nervous, stressed out, and mad at the whole world. The number of tasks on his to-do list continued to grow. As soon as he managed to finish one thing, five more appeared in its place. Working with Tom on the script, editing photos from the last few sessions, editing a promo video for Tom's new movie. If it wasn’t enough, he was working from home that was constantly loud because of the little child and the dog that lived there and it was driving him mental.

Harry loved his family the most in the world. He loved his little girl the most in the world, but today he simply was too distracted and angry with everything to take care of her. There still were many more things he had to do, and the day was only twenty-four hours long.

Hattie was an adorable four-year-old. She was always happy, loud and full of energy, yet a very polite girl. She always knew how to behave, was kind to everyone and was never a trouble for adults.

But Harriet was definitely Daddy's girl too, and on that particular day she needed her dad to pay attention to her, even for a few minutes. She had just finished drawing her little work of art for him and was very proud of herself. That's why she took her drawing in one hand, and in the other a juice box, which she adored as much as her Uncle Tom.

The brunette quietly entered the room where Harry was working, in case he was on the phone. When she noticed that her dad was not talking to anyone, she ran cheerfully to his desk.

“Look, Daddy! I made a picture for you.” The girl pulled out a piece of paper in front of her with a charming gesture.

It featured their family, Harry, you, Harriet and your dog Flakes. These were preschooler's scribbles, but were really heartwarming to everyone who saw it on your family Whatsapp group chat. Especially for Dom and Nikki.

But Harry was too busy with whatever that was on his laptop screen to even look at his daughter's work. The girl looked at him with sad eyes that were a reflection of his own, but he didn't notice it either.

“Daddy, will you open a juice for me, please?” After a while the girl's voice broke the silence.

“Harriet, stop disturbing me. I’m working and I don’t have time for that.”

Hattie looked at him with teary eyes and quietly ran out of the room. She was really hurt and didn't understand why Daddy was suddenly so rude to her. Yet Harry did not even notice how harsh and mean his words were to the four-year-old.

Still crying, Hattie ran into the kitchen where you were cooking dinner. You smiled as you heard the little brunette's footsteps in the room, but the smile faded from your face as soon as you saw your little girl.

"What's the matter, princess?"

The four-year-old only walked closer to the kitchen island where you were standing and handed you the juice box.

“Can you open the juice for me, mummy?”

“Oh, of course I can. Is that why you cried? Because you couldn't open your juice?”

Harriet didn't answer the question, just took the juice box from your hand and thanked you and then went straight to her room.

You didn't think too much about it, again focusing on the recipe Sam had sent you. Only a few hours later, when Hatt did not leave the room, not even once, you decided to check how your baby was doing. Throughout the day, you checked several times what she was doing and how she was doing, but each time she replied that she was fine and that she was busy taking care of her dolls.

You were a bit worried about your daughter's sudden change in behavior. Your baby had always enjoyed the company of other people while playing, but you thought that maybe Harriet was now going through a phase of playing by herself. So, taking advantage of the peace, you did a lot of cleaning in the house and did a few things you had to do for your work.

Hattie was surprisingly quiet and peaceful today, which is why you decided to use the free time you had left after finishing all your chores to read a book. In the meantime, a little brunette entered the room carrying a pencil case and a drawing pad.

“Can I sit here with you and colour, mummy?”

“Yes of course. Do you want to sit next to me?”

But the girl shook her head as no and sat down on the floor at the small table that stood in the living room.

When Harry entered the room a few hours later he saw you wrapped in a blanket, book in your hands and your little daughter lying on the floor with crayons. He was in a way better mood than he was in the morning, and he definitely missed his girls. He walked over to the couch and lay down on it, pressing his face against your belly. You chuckled at his behavior, because it was identical as the toddler’s sitting at the table, and began to comb his curly hair with your fingers.

“Are you okay, love?

“Yeah, I'm tired, but I'm fine.”

Harry looked at the little girl sitting on the floor, who hadn't said a word since he entered the room.

“Hattie? Time for a daily hug?”

The four-year-old frowned and looked at him. She didn't want to cuddle with her dad, since he'd been so mean to her before. So she answered a short "no" and went to her room.

“What has just happened?”

“I think Hattie is entering the big-girl phase, because she has been sitting mostly in her room since the morning.”

Harry thought about it for a moment, but ignored the thought that maybe his little girl was sick or had some kind of a problem, and snuggled into you, making you comfortable too.

Later that day, Harriet called you for a bedtime story. You entered the cream-colored room and found the little girl already lying in her bed, waiting with a book in her hand.

“So what, Hattie? Do we read "Winnie the Pooh" today?”

Little girl nodded and snuggled into her Spider-man plushie. Yes, a gift from Uncle Tom. As soon as he found out that his little brother was going to have a baby, Tom’s purpose bacame spoiling the kid with a Marvel merch.

You hadn't even finished reading half of the chapter, and the brunette was already deeply asleep. You leaned over and kissed her forehead and turned off the light, leaving only a tiny bedside lamp on.

***

When you left the four-year-old girl’s room, you met your husband in the kitchen with a mug of very milky tea.

“She didn’t have any troubles falling asleep?”

“Nah, she didn’t. I haven’t even finished reading the chapter of "Winnie the Pooh" and she was already asleep, and she never does that until I finish reading.” Harry frowned.

“She fell asleep that fast?”

“Yeah. She had a really tiring day full of taking care of her toys.”

“What about you? What did you do today?” He asked, walking towards your bedroom.

“Mostly cleaned the house. I did a few things for work. Nothing big.”

"It sounds like a pretty big deal to me, darling." He said, looking at you as you changed into his T-shirt and sleeping shorts. You smiled at his words and lay down, covering yourself with the duvet.

“You don’t want my cuddles too? Is it “no hug for Harry” day? He pouted at you.

“Aww, of course I'm cuddling. I always do. Even if I'm mad at you when I'm awake.”

“Good night, love” He said, pulling you to him and kissing your forehead.

***

Hours later, Harry was awaken by Hattie's crying. He didn't want to wake you, so he got up quickly and walked towards the girl's room. He entered the room, turning on the light, and saw his baby sitting in the middle of the bed rubbing her eyes. He walked closer to the girl, sitting on the edge of the mattress.

“Aww, munchkin, what’s happened?" He asked, reaching his hands towards her to pull her against his body. Harriet pushed him away from her crying even more. Harry frowned at her behavior.

“Hattie, sweetie, tell me what's going on.”

“I want to see mummy.”

She sobbed softly. Holland nodded, standing up from bed and reaching out to her so he could hold her in the way to your bedroom, but she pulled away from him again. His heart broke at the thought that his little girl no longer felt safe in his arms.

Harry, however, said nothing and followed the girl to your bedroom. When he entered the room, Hattie lay contentedly in your arms. He lay down next to you, looking at the love of his life and your daughter, thinking about how lucky he was in his life.

"Hey, Tie," You said, stroking the little girl's head "don't you want to cuddle up to Daddy too?"

A soft "no" came out of her mouth, breaking Harry's heart into a million pieces. You looked at him, noticing the sadness in his eyes, then looked back at the little girl lying on your chest. You leaned over her ear and asked.

“Why don't you want to, darling?” The four-year-old leaned close to you.

“Daddy was a meanie today. And I just wanted to show him my drawing.” She sniffed.

“Ohh, honey.” You stroked the little girl's back in steady rhythm. You turned your head towards your husband. “Why was Daddy mean today, huh?”

The realization came down to him like a ton of bricks. He wanted to hit himself with a golf club for making his little girl sad and so hurt that she didn't even want to hold his hand. He looked at you in the eyes and quietly asked if he could touch the baby in your arms as he moved closer. You nodded.

"Hattie, honey, Daddy didn't want to be mean today. You haven't done anything wrong. I was just stressed about the work but I shouldn't have yelled at you and I shouldn't have said you're a trouble. Sorry, sweetpea.” He said in a low tone, stroking the girl back.

Harriet looked up at Harry with eyes identical to his own. She held out her hand to wipe off one tear that escaped from his eyes. After a while she left your side and climbed onto her dad's chest, hiding her face in the crock of his neck. Harry let out a soft laugh, feeling the girl's curls tickle his skin. You looked at them with a smile.

“I love you little one. And you too, darling.”

“We love you too, Daddy.”

[waiting-on-a-dream]

Aurora Puerstella - Birthday suit up SSR voice lines

Login on Birthday Eh~? How'd you know it was my birthday? I haven't been parading around telling everybody- Oh, Floyd told everyone. Of course he did.

Unlock Card Isn’t that the third time you’ve wished me a happy birthday?

Not you too! Furo already did my hair, but the ponytail is too tight, lemme just loosen it a little...

Groovy Today's party has been a blast! I'm all tuckered out now though.

Home setting These fancy suits look great on some people, but its not really my thing.

Home Transitions Usually, I’m never satisfied with my birthday cakes. Something about eating them on my birthday just dampens the taste. But Trey really outdid himself.

My family sent me lots of messages in our group chat. The notification sounds like a bird’s tweeting. It felt like waking up to the real thing.

I had to reply to all my relatives for their birthday wishes. I hate that.

Home Transition (Login Greeting) Its time for the annual birthday song, cake cutting, and photo-taking again. *Sigh* What a chore.

Home Transition (Groovy) Go ahead and take as much food as you want…Don’t get the wrong idea. I’ll be taking whatever you don’t.

Home Taps Apparently Jade and Floyd cooked everything for today's feast. That explains all the mushroom and seafood dishes. The one and only eggs benedict is for me, of course.

Rook's present for me was a Glizzy Glam™ Violet lip gloss, recently sponsored by Vil...He's bribing me to stop causing havoc in Pomefiore, isn't he?

Joules embraided an entire denim jacket for me, said it was for all the 'birthday' presents I've given him so far...Heh.

Pip made me a plushy. That’s very nice of her. But I’m not quite sure what it’s supposed to be. It looks like a giraffe, but also a weasel? I didn’t ask her. She worked really hard on it.

Ana sneaked a bar of chocolate under my door. She could have just put it on the table with everyone else’s presents…More personal? I never thought about it that way.

Home Tap (Groovy) You want to give me a gift too? Hehehe, I've been eyeing Professor Crewel's new coat for a while...

Duo Magic Aurora: Let’s go, Sebek! Sebek: Just because it’s your birthday, I’ll tolerate you this once!

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

Doodles and Dicks | Nishinoya Yuu/Reader

Characters: Nishinoya Yuu, Reader, and a bunch of the other Karasuno team, and Ushijima Wakatoshi

Pairings: Nishinoya Yuu/Reader

Word Count:  2364

Summary:  You'd waited your whole life to see what your soulmate would write to you on your 17th birthday; you longed for sweet messages from him. Luck wasn't on your side as ink traced over your skin. Are you meant to be upset by the dicks on your arms?

A/N: Okay, so I wrote this a little bit ago when I was on a mega fluff run, and I love it so much. You can also check it out on AO3 and give me a little love there if you want uwu

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

You wanted to be mad as you stared down at your forearm; you wanted to scratch profanities into your arm in the hopes he’d subconsciously get the message. Surely you had every right to be upset, your friend said you had every right to be, yet you couldn’t be.

Every single day since you could remember you’d longed to turn 17 so that you could see sweet messages from your soulmate; you’d write how much you couldn’t wait to meet them in the cutest handwriting you could, because maybe they were older than you?

As you got ready for school on your birthday, October 10th, you couldn’t help but feel excitement at what your soulmate would say to you. You were a bundle of nerves the entire day.

And then you felt it; the familiar feeling of ink in your skin, but you hadn’t drawn on yourself, so that only meant one thing. Your face shot down and you stared with wide eyes as your soulmate doodled on himself. At first it was innocent enough, a few faces, some equations for his work. But then it got worse. You watched with excitement, too much excitement, as he started to doodle again. Your face dropped, followed by your heart, a lump formed in your throat as you watched the worst thing he could have drawn appear. A penis.

By the time it was lunch, you had so many over your arms that it was embarrassing. You wanted to bury your head into the dirt and never come out again; you felt lucky to have such comforting friends. They took out their pens and tried to write out for him to stop, when that didn’t work, they deduced that he probably hadn’t turned 17 yet.

The real question would be: when was he going to turn 17?

----

Everyday your soulmate made it slightly harder to like him.

After the third day of non-stop, rude drawings over your arms, your class decided to make a guessing game of what would be drawn on you that day. You only seemed to be able to get a break on weekends, so you could mostly relax around your family.

He’d pushed you over the edge one day when you’d woken up to doodles all over your face - the real kicker was that he could wash it off, but it would stay stained on your skin until you woke up the next morning. Your dad had snapped a picture of it, laughing softly at your scowling face.

Everyday you wrote some form of profanity back, not sure what your goal was.

About a month in you’d started to take pictures of the doodles at the end of the day, donning a tank top and shorts. Some days you’d pull a silly face, other days you’d flip off the camera to really let him know how badly he’d fucked up. More often than not, you’d circle your favourite drawing, whether it was a particularly well done penis, or a small doodle of a happy face.

You printed them out, kept them safe inside of a photo album like a sick reminder of all your suffering - you wouldn’t admit it outloud, but your favourite was the day he’d drawn on your face. It never failed to make you laugh at the scowl you were pulling mixed with the clown nose and whiskers.

It had been an entire year, you woke up on your 18th birthday with a small headache. How young was your soulmate? You were starting to worry until you felt the familiar pen ink on your skin.

Can you read this?

You furrowed your brows. Had he just turned 17 today? On your birthday? You shared a birthday with your dick-drawing soulmate?

Where do you live? I need to see you. You wrote back.

Wow! Nice to meet you too. I have practice today at Karasuno, could you meet me there?

The name was familiar, you’d heard some of the boys on the volleyball talking about them. You pulled up directions and figured out it was only a forty minute walk to you.

What time?

He gave you what information you needed to know and you sent him back an innocent smile before hopping out of bed to get ready.

----

Should you have been nervous to meet your soulmate? It felt kind of relieving, like any tension or stress you’d built up was finally leaving you; you couldn’t seem to care that he was definitely immature, that was part of the charm you’d learnt to appreciate.

“I’m not lost…” you grumbled down the phone to your friend who had been, not-so-lovingly, giving you directions. Maybe she was right, that you were just a little lost, but you weren’t going to admit that to her.

You looked around, noticing a building, Sakanoshita shop, a small group of boys huddled up outside. “I really doubt it.” She huffed.

“I’m just going to ask someone else, you’re giving me a headache.” You clicked off the call before she could berate you for ‘being so disrespectful’ and ‘you’d probably be kidnapped if it weren’t for me’ or ‘would you talk to your mother like that’. Blah, blah.

Shoving your phone in your pocket and adjusting your grip on your photo album, you jogged up to them, ignoring the slight ache in your legs. One of the boys with long hair and a goatee turned around, catching sight of you. You felt slightly intimidated until he smiled, “hello?” He called out to you.

“Do you know the way to…” you pulled up your sleeve, checking the address, “Karasuno high school?” They looked a little shocked but nodded nonetheless.

“We’re heading there actually,” a boy with short brown hair said, “why do you need to go there?” He slowly started walking, ushering for you to follow.

You quickly caught up, letting out a breath, “I have to meet someone. Well, more than just someone.” You shrugged, trying not to make it seem like such a big deal. “Just my soulmate.”

“Oh, that’s a big deal!” The third boy with grey hair smiled down at you, “I bet you’re so excited to finally meet him.” They shared glances, like they knew something you didn’t, but you didn’t read too much into it, just focused on trying to match their pace.

“I guess,” you shrugged again, “I’ve been waiting a year. Literally, a whole year.” You tried to seem more gleeful, these boys looked trusting enough, but if you needed to fight them you doubted your abilities.

“Wait, it’s your birthday today?” The first boy asked.

“And his, too, apparently. Either that or he was drawing dicks on his arm just to piss me off,” you snickered, absentmindedly tracing the back of your hand.

“Happy birthday,” the third boy smiled softly. You continued to walk with them, chatting lightly about things that didn’t mean anything. They introduced themselves to you, and so did you. It didn’t take much longer for the school to appear into view, a small hoard of boys stood at the front gate, chatting amongst themselves until they caught sight of the four of you.

You scanned your eyes over the boys, watching as confusion painted their face. “Of course you three pick up a hot chick before you even get here!” A boy with a shaved head called out, jogging over and introducing himself to you. Tanaka Ryuunosuke.

“She was actually trying to find this place.” Daichi chuckled. “Looks like she has a meeting with her soulmate.” You slowly rolled up your sleeve to reveal this morning's conversation written onto your arm. “Where’s Noya? I’m amazed he hasn’t come to meet the birthday girl.” Tanaka shrugged before turning back to you.

“It’s your birthday?” Tanaka asked, eyes widening.

“Obviously,” you rolled your eyes, “I’ve had to wait far too long to meet the boy who doodles dicks on his arm, and on his birthday, too.”

“What’s with the book?” A tall blond with glasses walked over.

“This contains almost every single day of last year, minus a month; the doodles that… Noya?” You looked at Daichi who nodded, “that Noya forced me to wear to school.”

“What school do you go to?”

“Shiratorizawa.”

They all looked surprised, opening their mouths to yell before someone came running up behind you. You barely managed to avoid the sudden attack, watching a small boy with spiky black hair expertly roll in front of you. He turned to face you, eyes lit up like a wildfire and a grin splitting his face in two. A small section of blond hair fell onto his forehead and you couldn’t help but smile - he’s so adorable.

“Soulmate?” He excitedly thrusted his wrist at you.

“Don’t ‘soulmate’ me.” You shoved the album into his arms and started ranting. “Do you know how embarrassing it is to be in the middle of class and suddenly have dicks up and down your arms?” He slowly opened the photo album, immediately greeted with your scowling face with doodles on it. “And don’t get me started on that, why would you do that?” He slowly flipped through the pages, taking his time to read each reason as to why a certain doodle was your favourite. “I was so happy to turn 17 but then you cursed me with these doodles for a whole year, I’m just happy my friends took it so well. They made it a game. It couldn’t have been worse until Toshi started betting money; that’s when it went from a game to a war.” A small blush tinted his cheeks.

“You took pictures of them for a whole year?” He asked, voice softer.

“Well, more like 11 months because I was too busy being made for the first month,” you mumbled, sitting down at his side, “but, yeah, basically a whole year.”

“Alright, birthday couple, we have to head to practice.” Daichi sighed, looking at you both with wonder in his eyes.

“Birthday… couple?” Noya asked, looking at you.

“I waited a year exactly to hear your response. So, yeah, happy birthday.” You stood back up, grabbing his hand and pulling him to his feet.

“I didn’t get you anything!”

“I don’t think anything you got me could make up for last year.” You giggled.

“You’re so cute!” He blurted out, making you blush. “I got a hot girlfriend, soulmate, everything! I’m so happy I get to meet you, this is the best day ever.” He jumped up and down excitedly, following close to you as you started to head into the school.

“Just feel lucky I’m not mad at you,” you sighed, not resisting the smile on your lips.

“So, what’s this about you going to Shiratorizawa?” Daichi pressed you further on the matter.

“Oh, right, well. I just go there. It was more for convenience but I had the grades for it, and my boyfriend at the time was going there on some volleyball scholarship.” You waved it off as if it was nothing but they all stared at you.

“You dated someone on the volleyball team?” Someone to your left blurted.

“Who were they?” Someone on your right yelled.

“You got into Shiratorizawa and I didn’t.” Someone else sighed.

“You had a boyfriend?” Noya looked sad.

“Everyone calm down,” Sugawara did his best to ease their overwhelming questions.

You took a deep breath and answered them all, “yes, I did. We were together all of middle school and for most of high school until he turned 17. It was Ushijima Wakatoshi,” another round of confused noises blew from them and you rolled your eyes, meeting Noya’s. “At the time, I thought he was my soulmate, we worked really well together. But we don’t have any hard feelings now, and his soulmate is super sweet even if they are taking it slow.”

Noya seemed to accept your answer, though he didn’t seem happy about it. How could you expect him to be?

Cupping his cheeks and forcing him to meet your eyes, you spoke, “hey, what are you worrying about?”

“He’s just…” he sighed, looking away, mumbling, “so much taller than me…”

You snorted, surprising him, “and? You’re my soulmate. Besides, I think you’re cute. Talls guys piss me off too, so you’re my sweet spot.” You nuzzled your nose against his and felt heat hit his face at record speed.

----- Noya thought he’d hit the jackpot with you. You were smart, funny, supportive, and so caring that his heart would melt.

He loved seeing you during the week, walking so far just to see him for a little while, taking silent pictures of his face in concentration during practice. He loved hearing you laugh with Kiyoko and Yachi. He listened to your endless rambling about something that had happened in your class.

You came to watch all his games, his numbers painted on your cheeks and sporting a Libero outfit that matched his, cheering so loudly from the sidelines.

When they made it into the battle against Shiratorizawa, he’d sworn that you would cheer for your school that he was surprised to see you donning his numbers again; cheering with no shame for him. He’d had to hold back giddy smiles when he heard you chastising Ushijima for injuring Tsukishima and nearly hurting Noya at some points.

The biggest shocking point was watching Ushijima stand in front of them, pride gone to the wind, you stomping your foot behind him like an angry mom, apologising for hurting them. When you were satisfied, you smacked him on the back and congratulated him for doing so good.

Noya was happy when you revealed that you planned on travelling the world after school instead of going to college. He was happy when you said he could join. Happy when you agreed to move in with him after you finished high school.

His heart nearly stopped when you agreed to marry him with tears streaming down your cheeks. He thought he might die when you walked down the aisle, a small tattoo on your wrist that had been difficult to explain. A small doodle of something you now thought of so warmly.

A penis.

[jjmaybanksbaby]

Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer II

Part 03: Been A While

series masterlist | previous part

summary: Your second summer in the Outer Banks becomes a whole lot more complicated when you realize a year away from Rafe hasn't changed your feelings for him at all.

a/n: And we're back with summer two - the summer before sophomore year whoop whoop! Writing this gave me butterflies so I hope you have the same feeling reading it! I always love hearing y’all’s commentary so don't be shy to scream about your favorite parts back at me.

word count: 2.5k words

Your mom reached over and tapped you gently on the arm.

"Put your phone away please, y/n. You can text Evan when we land."

"We're not even moving yet." You replied.

As if on cue, the pilot's voice echoed over the intercom. "Good morning passengers. This is your captain speaking. Welcome onboard Flight 4B7 with service from Portland to the Outer Banks. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts at this time and secure all baggage..."

You stashed your phone in the pocket of the seat in front of you and closed your eyes, hoping that by the time you woke up you would be landing.

After the way last summer had gone, you were surprised when your mom announced that you were spending the summer in the Outer Banks again.

Frankly, you weren't that happy to be headed to North Carolina. Alice and Kensie, your two best friends back home, had opted not to go to camp this summer so the three of you had planned to spend every day at Alice's pool, biking to the Dairy Queen a few blocks away or begging of your moms to drive you to the mall.

Plus, there was Evan. Your boyfriend of six months. You'd both been cast as the understudies for the leads in the fall musical. Because of some freak food-poisoning accident, both you and Evan had to go on as Cinderella and Prince Charming in the final show. When he kissed you under the bright stage lights, it had felt like more than just a stage kiss. He'd asked you out at the cast party later than night and you'd been dating ever since.

Evan was great. He really was. He was thoughtful and cared about you. But ever since your mom had bought the plane tickets to the Outer Banks back in March, every time you kissed Evan you could only think of Rafe Cameron.

☼☼☼

You trailed behind your mother on the way to baggage claim, bent over your phone responding to the texts Alice and Kensie had sent in the group chat while you'd been in the air. Apparently, they'd bumped into Kensie's crush and need to analyze every detail. A feeling of jealously you hadn't anticipated crept into your chest, weighing you down. Even indoors, the muggy heat of the Outer Banks made it clear how far from Oregan - and from your people - you were.

You looked around the airport, searching for the baggage claim with your flight number and noticed an incredibly familiar head of blonde head of hair standing nearby.

"Sarah Cameron?" You asked.

Sarah spun around a joyful smile on her face. "Oh my god! Y/n!" She ran over, wrapping you in a hug. "Are you back for the summer?"

You nodded your head which elicited another excited scream from her.

"What are you doing at the airport?" You asked her.

"You'll never guess! We're getting a house in the Bahamas!" She gushed.

"Sarah!" A deep voice called. You looked up to see another older-looking version of Rafe headed in your direction.

Your mom froze beside you. "Oh dear," she whispered.

The man's gaze didn't leave your mom. "Heather," he said.

"Ward," she responded.

Oh, you thought. So that's Rafe's dad.

"It's good to see you," your mom continued. "You look," she paused for moment, "good."

"You as well," Ward responded.

The carousel behind you started to move and luggage streamed out.

"That's us," your mom said, pointing over to the moving carousel. "We should go."

"I'll tell Rafe you're back," Sarah whispered to you. "He's gonna be so excited."

You smiled down at her knowing that you'd already made a vow to yourself to avoid him all summer. You refused to let Rafe ruin what you and Evan had and the only way you could guarantee that was making sure you didn't see him at all.

☼☼☼

Sarah bounded in the front door of the Cameron's house. "We're home" she called out, her sing-songy voice echoing through the big house. Ward entered after her, carrying their luggage.

"Welcome home," Rose said, greeting Ward at the door with a kiss.

Sarah rolled her eyes at the exchange. It wasn't that she actively hated her step-mom, she would just have rather her dad not married her. Though he was buying her a house in the Bahamas as an anniversary present so maybe she wasn't all bad.

"Is Rafe upstairs?" Sarah asked.

"I think so," Rose replied.

Sarah ran up the stairs, skipping every other one, the way Ward always told her not to do. She came to a sudden stop in front of Rafe's closed door.

"Rafeeeeee," she yelled, knocking rapidly until his voice bellowed back at her through the wall.

"What do you want Sarah? Go away!" He yelled.

"Fine," Sarah said. "I guess you don't care that y/n is back in town then?"

The door swung open just a few seconds later. “What did you say?” Rafe asked.

“Y/n was at the airport. She’s back in the Outer Banks for the summer.” Sarah turned on her heel and sashayed her way to her own bedroom leaving Rafe in his doorway to process the information.

Maybe this summer will be a whole less boring, Rafe thought.

☼☼☼

The summer was going exactly how you'd expected. It was surprisingly nice to have your younger brother to keep you company and more importantly, keep you busy. You spend your days either on the beach, tanning, watching your brother splash in the waves, and making your way through the reading list of the Honors English class you had opted to take next year or at the Club's pool, eating chicken tenders for lunch and washing them down with the thick chocolate milkshakes.

Rafe's friends frequently made an appearance at the Club. You watched them sneak vodka from flaskes into cups of spirit from being your shaded sunglasses. So far, Rafe had yet to join them.

Currently, Phoebe was flirting hardcore with Sawyer, begging him to put sunscreen on her back so she wouldn't burn. It was all too predictable.

You turned your attention back to Nick Carraway and his descriptions of Gatsby's grand parties momentarily.

You heard Sarah's voice before she appeared next to you and plopped down on the chair your brother had been occupying before he decided he needed more ketchup for his fries and had ran off.

"Y/n," she started with the same youthful energy she always talked with, "has Rafe invited you to our Fourth of July party yet?"

"Umm," you hesitated. "No, he hasn't said anything about it."

"Ugh," Sarah threw her head back in a dramatic motion. "I told him to text you about it. He's useless. Anyway, we throw a huge party for the Fourth every year and you have to come. There are fireworks and everything..."

Sarah's monologue faded to the background as you looked up and noticed Rafe standing at the top of the steps that lead down the pool. Your stomach flopped in the same way it always did when you saw him.

Rafe started walking down the steps and a small panic set in. His own eyes wandered across the pool deck and it was only time before he recognized you. You shifted your body slightly, trying to use Sarah to block yourself from his view.

You turned your attention back to his younger sister, afraid that you'd accidentally make eye contact with Rafe.

Crap, crap crap, you repeated in your head. Rafe was for sure heading in your direction. Even as you forced yourself to focus on Sarah, you couldn't stop yourself from watching Rafe out of the corner of your eye and he was walking straight toward you. Your 'avoid-Rafe-all-summer' plan was going to be impossible now. With every step he took, you could feel your heart beating faster. It felt just like last summer.

Rafe stopped in front of the chair Sarah was sitting in and you couldn't stop yourself from looking up at him, a smile threaten to slide onto your face. The same warm but dangerous feeling you only got when Rafe was around took ahold of you.

"Sarah," he said, cutting her off mid-sentence. "Ward's looking for you."

She jumped up with a sudden spurt of energy, "Okay, I'll go find him!" She leaned down engulfing you in another hug. "See you around y/n." She said before running off.

"Bye Sarah." You replied.

"You know, you're like my sister's favorite person," Rafe said, still standing above you. "She mentioned you were in-town for the summer..." He let his sentence trail off.

But I hadn't seen you around. You finished for him in your head.

"Yeah, we got in about a week ago." You said. The tension that hung in the air between the two of you was exactly the reason you were trying to avoid him. The last time you had seen him he'd kissed you in a way you hadn't been able to get out your head for months afterward. It was a dangerous game. Nonetheless, here he was standing in front of you and you were barely holding it together.

Your phone began to ring and the photo of Evan kissing your check from homecoming popped up with the caller id. Rafe's eyes glanced over it and an unreadable expression crossed his face.

Right, it was 4 o'clock on Wednesday. The time and day you and Evan had decided you would call each other every week.

"Uhh, I gotta get this." You said to Rafe, reaching over and picking up the phone.

"Yeah, okay. See you later y/n." He replied before walking away from you and to his friends.

Your eyes followed him all the way even as you clicked answered and Evan's voice filled your ear.

☼☼☼

A feeling of nervousness set in as you approached the Cameron's, the absurd number of cars parked outside confirming you were at the right place. You glanced over each of your shoulders worried that your mom would pull up any second to drag you back home after you lied about where you were spending your evening. You felt decently bad about saying you were going to the Club to watch fireworks and coming to the Cameron's instead but you knew your family's stance on Rafe and his dad.

It seemed like the entire population of the Outer Banks was spread across the Cameron's backyard. Adults sipped festive cocktails as little kids, hyped-up onto much sugar, weaved in between their legs, chasing one another around. You looked around hesitantly, thankful when Sarah emerged from the crowd, frosting smeared across her face.

"You made it! I'm so happy you're here!" She screamed.

"Sarah," you laughed. "You have blue frosting all over you." You used your finger to wipe it from her cheek.

"Rose ordered the most delicious cake you've ever had. You have to try it. I can get you some. Do you want some?" She asked eagerly.

"I'm okay right now. Thank you though. Have you seen Rafe?" You asked. You were at his party, after all, it wasn't like there was any point in avoiding him now.

Sarah turned and pointed to the dock where Rafe and his group of friends were standing. "He's over there."

"Great. Okay! I'm going to go say hi."

"Have fun!" Sarah replied with a smile before running off in the same direction she's appeared in.

You made your way through the crowd to the dock, the groups' attention turning to you as you approached.

"Hey," you said, shyly.

Cleo and Riley jumped up from where they had been sitting with their legs dangling in the water.

"Y/n, right?" Cleo asked before leaning in for a hug.

"Yeah. Hi! It's good to see you guys again." You replied.

"You too! Rafe said you were back in town and I was wondering when you'd finally make an appearance." Cleo said.

You look over at Rafe to find him already watching you. He pushed through Cole and Milo and was suddenly in front of you

"Um, y/n and I need to get the fireworks." He said to the group. You watched Riley shoot Cleo a confused look but Cleo just shrugged it off.

Rafe grabbed your hand and pulled you along, leaving you no choice but to follow him. You walked in silence, other than the sound of your heart beating rapidly.

Rafe stopped at a small brick shed on the side of the house. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, pulling you in after. There were kayaks and paddleboards hanging on the walls and some old lifejackets littered the floor.

"Rafe-" you tried to start but he cut you off.

"Y/n, I seriously can't go one more minute without kissing you again."

Rafe looped his arm around your waist, cupped the back of your neck with his hand, and landed his lips on yours.

For a moment, you tilted your face upwards and leaned your body into his before your senses came rushing back to you and you shoved him backwards off of you. Surprise registered on his face.

"Rafe. No. I can't do this." Your voice broke, panic coursed through your whole body. "God, I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't have come here today or followed you here."

"Y/n." Rafe said but held your hand up warning him to say quiet.

"I have to go. I have to go," you repeated. "Tell Sarah I'm sorry I missed the fireworks. I know she'll be disappointed. I have to go."

You turned to leave but Rafe grabbed your wrist and his eyes locked with yours, his expression begging you to stay.

"I have a boyfriend." You blurted out. The weight of those four words settled on Rafe's face and you jerked your arm out of his grasp. You spun on your heel and walked out the shed and putting distance between you and the boy making your life so complicated.

You crossed the Cameron's yard, trying to gather yourself and slow your chaotic, unsteady breathing. You hurried down the long driveway, making it to the road without any tears slipping out of your eyes.

Rafe had tried to kiss you. He hadn't tried, he had kissed you. And you sorta kissed him back. No, not sorta. You kissed him back. But then you stopped. You pushed him away. You realized it was wrong. You didn't want to hurt Evan. You weren't gonna hurt Evan.

The fireworks began to explode behind you, large booms thundered across the sky, their big colors illuminating the night. You didn't dare turn around watch them. They reminded you too much of Rafe: the boy pulling your head and your heart in two different directions.

taglist! @oreoenthusiast13 [drop a ☀️ in my inbox or messages if you want to be added]

[king-litchi]

Picture source : @Mnine5 (Meijo) in Twitter

Note : actually, it’s not a request but I was bored and I wondered « what kind of person would the SNK characters on the social medias be » - soo here we go

Sorry for my english…I am french and I still learning - please forgive me and protect your eyes 🤧

Warning : (12+) social media can be dangerous

SHINGEKI NO KYOJIN ON SOCIAL MEDIA 💥

Eren

Instagram : friends, family, abs, outfits, travel….king of instagram, super popular on instagram, everyone follow him but he only follows his friends and instagram he finds interesting, over time it has become an influence, Eren has like a million followers on Insta @IamErenJaeger

Snapchat :  « who has a netflix account ? » in story, selfies with friends at all kinds of events, often takes pictures of Mikasa and Armin by surprise, never puts a filter on for him or for the people he snaps, everyone can watch his story and comment (public baby), already received nudes… @ErenJaegeeer

Whatsapp : he is in all group discussions but rarely answers, when he answers it is surely because the conversation becomes funny or because they talk about Jean and then it degenerates (when too far between Eren and Jean everyone leaves the group and they end up « wait…everyone is gone…? ») and a new groupe is created but the fight starts again (others are like « here we go again » )

Twitter :  can easily get upset in a debate, is not afraid to say what he thinks, it is blocked by a lot of people (please take away his twitter), has a large fanbase : Jaegerist (@CaptainFlochForster is the leader fanbase…best to avoid them.) it’s very simple : either you’re wrong or you’re not right @ErenJaeger

Tumblr :  He is not really known on tumblr, follow only his friends and is followed only by his friends. Does a lot of reblog tumblr he likes and post a lot kind of sick jokes like « What is the only dog you can eat? - A Hot Dog » (20 followers…)

Armin

Instagram : sharing photos of his travels around the world, a lot of ocean scenery, monuments like the Eifel Tower, does not put a photo of him or his friends, his instagram is public to share his beautiful photos with the world  (2,5K followers) @ArminVibe

Twitter : Sharing conspiracy theories with other twittos, if by misfortune a conspiracy ends up in TT you can be sure that it will tweet all evening, twitter reveals its dark side, It can deal with all subjects and he’s gonna take his time to make you understand that you’re WRONG @ArminArlett

Snapchat : he doesn’t know why he has a snapchat, if you send him a snap photo he will just look without answering but if you start a discussion he will probably lose your message if you have not recorded (his fault, but he really does not do it on purpose, he does not really drag on this social media)

Whatsapp : quite active on whatsapp, in groups it is the one that stays the longest active, uses a correct grammar, always has time for someone who needs to talk (a colossal heart…)

Tumblr : very popular on tumblr with his famous landscape photos, he also likes to share theories with whoever wants it, has created a discussion group of which Erwin and Hanji are part (these three are often found in several discussion groups…), is subscribed to Annie

Mikasa

Instagram : her account is private (like most of his social medias) if she does not know you be sure that she will never accept a subscription request (and she receives a lot of subscription requests), sometimes post photos of Eren and her, sometimes with Armin and a picture with the whole group together, has maximum 5 publications and has maximum 100 subscriptions and she subscribes to only 25 people (who are they?) and her favorite girl’s band @MikasaAckerman

Twitter : is fan of girl’s band, a twitter just to follow their news, she has already been on top tweet (never knew why and honestly she doesn’t care), her account is totally private but she receives a lot of follow requests (she declines) @MikasaAckerman

Snapchat : does not do a lot of selfie but she likes cute filters, often does black snap with dark quotes « the sun always shines after a dark night » , tends to reply 2 days after being sent a snap (🤡) yet she makes the flames with Eren (already 834 flames) so she just ignores snaps

Whatsapp : she is in full of group discussions, but always reads without answering (”Read”), she often ends up leaving the discussion groups (but there is always someone to add her to the group, often Sasha)

Tumblr : has a fake account, by the way she is super popular, she posts her covers of her favorite songs @Mikasong (fucking great voice), already has a small community

Reiner

Instagram : is totally subscribed to Emily Ratajkowski (but who is not?), was the first happy to know that the likes are hidden, kind to like a lot of ass and body fitness (…<.<) it’s sure Historia blocked him (probably deserved) @ReinerBraun

Twitter : profile photo of a football player, often mentions his friends, and ALWAYS mentions Conny for challenges « Dare or not to ring your neighbor’s door at 3:00am and ask him for sugar », the kind to tweets like « Nicki Minaj or Cardi b ? » @ReinerTheBigBrother

Snapchat : You see this guy who makes a lot of views on snap and who everyone asks for publicity? Yes, it’s Reiner. Become master of the screenshot (already found himself in a complicated situation because of it…this awkward moment where you catch something you shouldn’t capture…), also receives nudes (btw 🤡) he never watches stories @ReineerGg

Whatsapp : he often ends up being ejected from discussion groups for his dubious humour and is often the victim of Ymir’s blackmail (screenshots can be fatal…)

Tumblr : he doesn’t even know what it’s for

Bertholdt

Instagram : has two instagram accounts, the first is his real account, he only follows his friends and is only followed by his friends and the second is a (secret) fan account on Annie Leonhart @fannie-kickass

Snapchat : goes selfie on occasions like birthdays (party) or when he is with friends, likes animal filters, snap everyone and without warning, during the evenings with friends he often finds himself in the snap of everyone without his knowledge and discovers him the next day (sleeper pose) @Berth5

Whatsapp : the kind of person to share a lot of petitions like « Hi, Nolan still needs 300,000 signatures to be able to convince his parents to buy him ps5 » (he can’t refuse to share when asked…colossal heart - like Armin <.<), calm in group discussions (is not the type to get involved in an argument, always remains neutral when the situation degenerates), he often speaks with Reiner privately and gives him advice on how to approach Annie - but by the time he decided to send a message to Annie, she had already deleted the application… (legend says he’s still waiting for an answer)

Twitter : if you identify him in a tweet, it will probably not read it but will still like it (why not), he does definitely part of the commentators of entertainment shows or sports matches @Bertholdt

Tumblr : hesitates to create a tumblr but does not really know what he could talk about

Annie

Instagram : shares his training and does not hesitate to make demonstrations of his techniques, is quite popular on instagram, to a lot of publication, post a photo with his father just after each victory with a caption « It is God who gives » ; already has a good community (320K followers), account is certified

Snapchat : never goes on his account, totally professional use, it is his father who manages his snapchat to post in story the videos her training and his official matches with the caption « Little Rocky 🔥 »

Whatsapp : it ended up deleting the app because too much discussion that ends in spam (it will be for a next time Berth)

Tumblr : her little cocoon where she can be herself, the only social media that has her interest, her tumblr is dedicated to the cat, she is a fan @Kitty-Catnnie , the only person in the group to know her tumblr is Armin with whom she sometimes chat

Twitter : She is still on top tweet despite her « Mikasa vs Annie, who wins ??? », she never tweet but retweet a lot of things especially those of Conny, it happens to like the tweets of commentator Jean

Jean

Instagram : if you want to see his account you must first subscribe, generally accept all requests, send quite a lot of DM like « you wouldn’t have a bandage because I hurt myself by falling in love with you » sometimes succeeds other times it ends blocked ( or screenshots that end up on Twitter) @JeanOfficiel

Snapchat : He was blocked by Mikasa and Eren (not for the same reasons), made the flames with everyone (but the most with Marco), has already tried to snap Mikasa in secret (it is caught in the act), loves selfies @Ihateeren

Whatsapp : the kind who doesn’t look to whom he sends a message and always has the wrong discussion, so becomes panicked « DONT READ!!! » accidentally already sent a nude in a group discussion (unfortunately screenshots have been made) Eren laughed about this story for several months like « How is Jeanbo doing ? He’s grown up since last time? » (he doesn’t talk about Jean…you know…)

Tumblr : he created a popular mini series on tumblr « You prefer…? » and also « If you were… » (the concept is very cool and we can do it with all the subjects), made a lot reblog, reblog ALL covers of Mikasa

Twitter : has been blocked by half of the tweetos sphere after several heated debates, is one of the people who comment on the shows mainly reality TV (he does it with passion) « SANDRA LEAVES WITH ANTONIO W/O MONEY !!!! IT’S A FUCKIIIING JOKE ?????!!!!! #TheVillaOfBrokenHeart2 » or « I’m the only one who hates Mike ? #MonacoShore » , it’s that kind of tweet that Annie likes) @JeanKirschtein

Marco

Instagram : accepts only requests from friends, his account is private, sharing small moments of his life with friends and families, use many hashtag like #AllThatGlittersIsNotGoldEvenJean (but nobody understands what he means)

Snapchat : often comments his friends’ stories, is the kind to come talk to you if you put a dark snap like « cruel world »

Whatsapp : often receives private messages like « Marco, are you there? » it always ends in long discussions (« The confidant ») he knows how to find the right words, it is active and always “available” if someone needs it

Twitter : always makes Jean’s defense on twitter, the kind of person to be part of a fanbase (like HarryPotter), uses hastag LGBT+

Tumblr : super popular on tumblr, he makes headcanons and screenplays of his favorite books, series and movies, has a preference for Yaoi but he can make any request (2K followers) @HalfMan

Conny

Instagram : very very popular on instagram thanks to his account with Sacha where they share their farce and does not hesitate to challenge, they post the pranks they make to their friends (1M followers) they are not yet certified @TwoDummies , he has a second private account :  with just family and friends (arround 55 followers) @hismotherson

Snapchat : the kind of person who does a snap at 2H00 of the mat « who for the flames », has a lot of snap discussions, always makes stories that ends badly like « I’m going to ride a bike » and in his last snap he ends up in emergency… (true story)

Whatsapp : has an unimaginable number of “caption this” for ALL situations, it sometimes created discussion groups (it’s just that it prepares a stupidity) otherwise is not super active but will always answer if it has a message

Twitter : clash with everyone « Your mother was pregnant for 9 months of your big head but you can’t stand a joke ? SHAME » (blocked), king of challenges, makes all the challenges where it is mentioned, retweet all the « Dare or not… » of Reiner, uses a lot of abbreviation, he invented a lot of hastag like #AlphaLevi and people have fun with his hastag

Tumblr : his more than empty tumblr, has no profile photo, and compulsive liker, it’s literally a fake account for liking funny things @JustConny

Sasha

Instagram : receives many comments under the photos of his joint account with Conny like « POTAETOS GIRL WE LOVE U » and « POTAETOS POWER », often pranks and ends up in the account, has a second private instafood account and also post photos with Nikolo @MadamePatate

Snapchat : oh my dear, he gets into a lot of trouble (funny drama) so stay connected for his “Storytime” evenings (we often hear Ymir commenting in the background with sarcasm and Conny’s laugh)

Whatsapp : the kind of person to send in a « bbiad » discussion (I’ll be back in a bit) and never come back in the discussion, written in abbreviation, loves group conversations

Twitter : has disabled twitter because of a "caption” that Conny posted on it (potaetos girl exists thanks to a tweet) but there reactivated a week later, tweets like a dramaqueen « WHAAAAT @netflix SEASON TWO IS COMING OUT TOMORROW BUT NOT TODAY  ???? WHYYYYYYYYY ! I’m never gonna be able to wait till tomorrow to eat my popcorns frkrkellelrlrl BUY ME POPCORNS NETFLIX BUUUY », has already been on top tweet #potatoesgirl

Tumblr : victim of her reputation even on tumblr, reblog a lot of post food and potential future challenges from Conny, often finds “caption this” with her face and always reacts with a more than dramatic surprise « SHIT AGAIN ??! »

Historia

Instagram : receives a lot of DM from people she doesn’t know, never accept them, like all the photos of her friends, you can see her insta only if you subscribe…(15K followers) @RealHistoria

Snapchat : renames all her friends by cute nicknames, the kind that snaps the place where she is or her food with a « have a nice day », queen of selfie, likes the filters

Whatsapp : uses a lot of emoji, hearts have become a punctuation, in group discussions she often comments « Ymir !! » after a sarcastic comment, tries to temper when the situation becomes too stormy

Twitter : avoids twitter like the plague, has disabled her account, reactivates it on occasions before losing interest once again, in fact her account is a fake where she is named @christaLenz

Tumblr : pretty active, committed LGBT+ activist, reblog testimonials, lots of likes, reblog Mikasa covers a.k.a Mikasong

Ymir

Instagram : a lot of photos of Historia (it looks like a fan account), often comments the photos of her friends (unfortunately for them) @Ymir

Snapchat : a lot of selfie with Historia, if a fight or something awkward happens in front of her she will be the first to make a snap (and no scruple to put it in her story), if Reiner is the King of awkward screenshots then she is the Queen for INTENTIONAL screenshots, her memories are filled with compromising photos on EVERYONE

Whatsapp : Do you remember the screenshots on snap? Well it is on Whatsapp that they find their usefulness. Can send them to a discussion group as if nothing had happened but her specialty is a service for her silence (yes blackmail) it’s never anything bad, but enough to piss off the victim (who is often Reiner)

Tumblr : forgot her password and honestly she doesn’t want to find it, why did she tumblr ?

Twitter : she is often upset about debates, often sarcastic in her retweets, « Caption This », always the last word, she is very popular on Twitter, she’s already been on top tweet (because a drama with her identity) @LadyYmir

Levi

Instagram : does not really look at his newsline, Instagram in black and white and very orderly (#GrandArt), his account is public but no one can comment on his photos @LeviAckerman

Snapchat : a block Hanji (too many snap video that turned into spam), to rename all his contacts by nicknames like « Brat Number one », « Brat Number 2 » (etc.) and Zeke « shithead » nothing abnormal, It has already posted a snap of his head in front camera (had not done it on purpose) deleted after realizing…(especially after receiving plenty of notifications), he and Zeke attack each other by proxy story (no one understands…but it’s funny to read)

Whatsapp : is always “offline” or “busy” but will always respond if sent a message, probably blocked Zeke on all social medias

Tumblr : shares his passion for tea and cleanliness, loves the healthy atmosphere of tumblr, has quite a fan, reblog and subscribes to Armin @TeaWithLevi

Twitter : Tweet by accident (in the pocket >.<) like « jf’dyt’rimsjrdy’yfgi » but other thant he almost never tweets, but when he does it is to complain or creepy « today I learned that a lollipop breaks easily like the legs of a clown » (…we don’t want understand), he’s already been on top tweet with the #AlphaLevi like « #AlphaLevi can surround his ennemies. Alone. » ; « #AlphaLevi makes the onions cry » ; « #AlphaLevi can go up downstairs » (we thank Conny for this hashtag) @LeviAckerman

Hanji

Instagram : honestly if you want to do a search on someone you have to check with Hanji, FBI of the net (”the stalker”), its account is public : post photos with Levi (who has to be taken by surprise) mentions everyone on its posts, photo with Moblit during their experiences (like “Break”), its instagram looks cool @OfficerZoe

Snapchat : snap often its scientific experiments (and other) and we always hear Moblit screaming in the background « Hanji-san! Back ! » , they like to comment on the stories of Levi and Zeke, already tried to make the flames with Levi and Erwin (tried without success)

Whatsapp : spends its time doing focus groups before it degenerates, its favorite pairs are Eren/ Jean and Levi/ Zeke but never has a battery

Tumblr : strangely its tumblr is very serious, they share its hypotheses and theories on scientific subjects, they talk about its experiences and future scientific experiments, they post the results of its research, has its own focus group (Erwin is one of them) @DrHZoe

Twitter : @Dr.troublegirl everything is in the pseudo, will accumulate and then become spectator of a massacre, his catchphrase is « you’re implying… »

Erwin

Instagram : it is very orderly and pleasant to look at, post works of art that crosses his path, does not often check his actuality but when he does it everyone is happy…(always the little comment that makes a good mood and a little like)

Snapchat : his story is public but only his “friends” can comment, snap his visits to the museum and snap a lot the streetart but is not really active when he makes “snap discussion” @Eyebrow (account created by Hanji…)

Whatsapp : uses impeccable punctuation and grammar, often discusses with Armin on intellectual topics and confronts their assumption he is the only one who is not part of a discussion group with ALL the characters (just a few groups like Hanji/Levi/Mike), from time to time he receives family photos of Niail and talks about old times

Twitter : activist totally committed to good causes ( #blacklivesmatter) (#justicepourAdama ), retweet the political news, has already tweeted with the #AlphaLevi @ErwinSmitt

Tumblr : pretty active, post on subjects that fascinate him (like history), his tumblr is very interesting and orderly, proposes developed theories and some people (students like Conny) go there to find answers to their homework… @Sasageyo

Zeke / Sieg

Instagram : created an insta to talk with Eren but he got blocked after commenting on one of his photos « Beautiful sweetren, you grow up day by day, signed your beloved brother » didn’t understand why he couldn’t see his instagram after that ; his instagram is very neat : instafood & instabook but doesn’t have many followers because his instagram account is private (like 150 follower) @ZekeJaerger

Snapchat : made stories to address to Eren instead of sending him directly in private (didn’t really understand the concept) that’s how to start the attacks between him and Levi, Eren ended up deleting the app to him

Whatsapp : uses impeccable grammar (also blocked Livai on all its social medias), tends to read without answering « Read since two days »

Twitter :  tweets like « I am now on twitter. » or  « Good Morning Twitter. » and lots of  « Join me on Candy Crush » , he also likes to comment on his favorite culinary shows with a lot hastag, honestly he is one of the people who blocked Eren on Twitter but does not really assume it  « What ? Weird…I must have hit the wrong button… » yes of course… @ZekeJaeger

Tumblr : reblog Erwin’s posts which he finds very interesting, to himself his own theories which he confronts with Erwin in discussion groups, is part of a quite popular team on tumblr “GenshiKyojin”, (with leader Eren Kruger) #uses #too #much #hastag (#like #me) @KemenoNoKyojin

[sincerelyasomebody]

Happy Go Lucky || Jose "Sad Eyes" Guzman

(GIF: @merakiaes)

A/N: Shoutout to @multiyfandomgirl40 and @firebenderwolf for making me do a taglist. I'm still in awe that people enjoy the fics I write. Be sure to check out their fics (or re-read them), you won't regret it! Grammatical errors are to be expected. Spanish Translations below, let me know if there are any errors. 

Characters/Pairing(s): Sad Eyes x Reader ☆ OCs (readers best friends)

Summary: Wine just brings out a different side of (Y/N). Not that her boyfriend is complaining. 

Warnings: fluff, language, references to smut, tipsy reader

Word Count: 1638

- ♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ -

The Mean Girls credits rolled onto the screen, so (Y/N) tossed the remote to Kyra as she got up and walked into the kitchen. Opening up the fridge, she looked through the selection Maelyse had brought with her. Unsure of what to get, Joy popped up beside her and grabbed the Merlot. (Y/N) shrugged her shoulders and decided to grab the rest of the snacks instead. 

Tomorrow, the tight knit group of friends would officially have a wife among them. They were all excited for the big day, especially the bride to be Maelyse. The past few months had all of them busy. However, through it all, they all remained level-headed and it solidified Mae's choice in choosing them to be her bridesmaids. Instead of going to celebrate her last night of being a fiancé out in the city, Mae decided on having a quiet night in. 

Each of them had their own rooms within the suite, but chose to all camp out in the living room for the night.

"How are you feeling?" (Y/N) asked Mae as she placed the snacks on the coffee table that had been pushed to the side. 

She smiled, "great." 

Joy shook her head, "and to think you getting married is because Scott sent a text to the wrong number.

"I wouldn't say it was wrong," Mae flashed her engagement ring, "after all he ended up with the right woman."

(Y/N) and Joy both awed, while Kyra scoffed. 

"Okay, enough of the cheesiness, y'all know I'm lactose intolerant," everyone laughed at her, "let's give a toast for wrong numbers." 

"To wrong numbers!"

They all raised their wine glasses, clinked them together and took a drink. When (Y/N) placed her glass down, she noticed a notification pop up on her screen. With the quick flash she smiled down at her screensaver. A photo of her and Jose sitting on a mat with a picnic basket and a bouquet of daffodils beside them. (Y/N) leaning back into his embrace and Jose wrapping his arms around her. 

He had set his phone up to "capture the moment", he had told her. (Y/N) didn't really suspect anything of it considering she loved a good photo op. She remembered that day so clearly, as it was when Jose officially asked her to be his girlfriend. Bringing the bouquet of daffodils to symbolise the new beginning for both of them. 

Kyra noticed (Y/N) staring at her phone and nudged her shoulder playfully, "is somebody missing their novio?" 

"Shut up," she replied.

Mae laughed, "he's coming tomorrow, right?" 

(Y/N) nodded, "yeah, he'll be there." 

She was happy that Jose would join her. It would be the first event they'd be attending as a couple – Santos parties and dinners with her family didn't really count. Plus she was extremely excited to see him dressed up.

Joy smiled and grabbed some Doritos to munch on, "Nana Julie is gonna be disappointed when she finds out you're in a relationship. She's been trying to set you up with Carlos for years."

"Accepting the ring pop in front of her was the beginning of her attempts of getting the two of you together," Mae piped up. 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, "we were seven." 

Kyra smirked, "my favourite part was when you found out he gave Vivian a ring pop the day before and told him you weren't a homewrecker," she laughed.

"That just showed how committed I was, even back then," she replied, "I kinda felt bad after I stuck the ring pop in his hair. He had to shave it all off 'cause Nana Julie ended up giving him a bald spot when she ripped it out." 

They continued to drink, eat and talk. Laughing at the memories they created with each other and cringing when they talked about their awkward teenage years. All of which they agreed they were happy they were no longer living through it.

On the other side of town, Jose was chilling in his apartment. He wasn't really doing anything, other than making sure his outfit for Mae's wedding was put away nicely. He had just come back from his mother's house 'cause he needed help ironing it. While she was ironing, she kept talking about how proud she was of him for finding (Y/N). He laughed when she began to hint at grandchildren. His response was if it happened, it happened. Although, he already knew that (Y/N) was the only woman he ever pictured having kids with. 

Closing his closet door, he moved from his bedroom into the hallway. His mind on (Y/N) and hoping she was having a blast with her girls. When he began dating her, her friends were a bit apprehensive due to his association with the Santos. However, when they realised he actually cared for (Y/N) they eased up. Now, whenever he saw them there wasn't any awkwardness. 

Before he reached the kitchen, he felt a vibration against his thigh. Confused, he pulled out his phone and saw (Y/N)'s contact name pop up. With a smile, he quickly answered, "Hola, querida." 

"Ooooh did you hear that girls? Did. You. Fucking. Hear. My. Man? I don't think you did. He spoke Spanish! Fuck he sounds so sexy –" was all Jose heard before a bunch of giggles muffled his girlfriend's voice. He couldn't help but chuckle, quickly figuring out that he was on speaker and (Y/N) was tipsy (if her slightly slurred rambling was anything to go by). A loud shushing noise was followed by more rambling, "– like… he's just so ‐‐ urg! He's a snack… no h-he's more than that he's breakfast… and lunch… and dinner. Yeah! Breakfast, lunch, dinner. Wait, no… uh, what's that place – buffet! He's. A. Fucking. Buffet! Yes, he is. And I'll gladly eat all day long." 

Jose smirked, "you're everything and more bebe." 

"Oh shit, I forgot I was on the phone," she giggled, "hey, baby! I love you!" She let out a heavy sigh, "I miss you! Can I see you? I wanna see you." 

Never being able to deny her of anything, he quickly ended their call and switched to FaceTime. He only waited for a few seconds before (Y/N)'s face popped up, practically covering the screen. Jose laughed as she grinned widely, before shuffling back allowing him to see her surrounded by her best friends. All of whom were wearing matching pink pajama sets, except for Maelyse whose set was white. They all waved, Jose nodding back at them. 

"Isn't he handsome?" (Y/N) glanced over her shoulder, "and he's mine." She sighed happily focusing back on the screen. "I love you!" 

He smiled, "I love you too, bebe." His eyes spotted some wine glasses in the background with snacks. "You seem to be having a great time." 

"The bestest time ever!" She cheered, the girls cheering alongside her. "We're getting wine drunk and eating all the snacks. But, I wanna see you," she pouted. 

"Don't make that face," he sighed, "you're seeing me now, bebe." 

"It's not the same… I want you here!" She huffed.

He raised an eyebrow, "(Y/N)." 

"Ooooh, you called me (Y/N)." Her eyes widened, "you must mean business," she giggled. "I like it when you say my name… especially when you're –" 

"Baby," this time his eyes widened.

The girls in the background fell over each other laughing, while (Y/N) looked at them confused. This made Joy laugh harder. Maelyse leaned over and whispered in her ear. (Y/N) bit her lip, causing Kyra to wrap her arms around her shoulders and scream about 'the baby not being as innocent as everyone thought'. Shaking her head, she turned back to the screen and shrugged her shoulders. 

"I meant when you're sleepy 'cause your voice gets even sexier," she explained, "but… yeah, when we're doing stuff too. I really like that part."

The way she said it so nonchalantly made Jose snort and shake his head. His girl was something else. The camera shifted to show off a pile of blankets and pillows, before revealing her nude painted toenails. He patiently waited until (Y/N)'s face came back on the screen and once it did, she was laying on a bed.

"I can't wait to see you all dressed up," she commented, "like – fuck, you're already the sexiest man. But… imagining you in a suit and tie is doing things to me." 

He smirked, "is that right?" 

Biting her lip, she nodded, "yeah… a whole lot of things," she glanced over her phone before back at the screen, "after the wedding is when the real fun starts." 

"I look forward to it." 

"You should 'cause I brought your favourite set with me, so I can wear it underneath my dress." 

"Baby, don't do that to me," he groaned.

"Sorry not sorry," she giggled.

They chatted a bit more until Mae called out for (Y/N) that it was time to say goodbye and get back to celebrating. At the same time Oso gestured towards Jose that he was needed. With a reluctant sigh from both of them, they smiled at each other. 

"Looks like we've both gotta go, querida," he told her, "but I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Do you need me to bring anything to the hotel?" 

"Can I have some (fast food) for breakfast?" 

He laughed, "of course baby, anything else?" 

She shook her head, "no that's it," she blew him a kiss, "I really gotta go now 'cause I can hear Mae calling my full name," she huffed, "I love you!"

"I love you too, baby." 

Once they hung up, they both had the same thought; morning couldn't come soon enough.

-♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ - 

Spanish Translation(s): 

Novio - boyfriend

Hola, querida - hello, honey

Bebe - baby

----------

On My Block Taglist:

@multiyfandomgirl40 // @firebenderwolf

If you'd like to be added, don't hesitate to message me!

[honey-dewey]

Finding the Right Voice

Frankie Morales/Mute and chronically ill Reader

Word Count: 1,804

Warnings: Reader is both mute and has gastroparesis. Reader throws up once. 

After much pestering from the boys, Frankie reluctantly signs up for a dating app, intending for it to be a joke. Until he falls in love. You and him text daily, getting to know each other so intimately despite never meeting. At least, never meeting until Frankie wants to take you on a date. So how the hell are you going to explain to him that you are constantly ill and will never speak again?

Frankie had always thought dating apps were a waste of time. Who the hell actually met the love of their life through the Internet? 

Frankie Morales, that’s who. 

Of course, he’d been hesitant to tell the boys he’d found someone, mostly because he knew they’d give him shit about it. And they did, of course. But now, months after meeting someone, they realized Frankie was genuinely happy and toned the teasing down. 

“I’m just worried!” Frankie said, staring at his phone. “They haven’t responded in days.” 

“Dude,” Benny said, gesturing with his beer bottle. “They’re probably just busy. Or out somewhere with shit cell service. I dated a girl like that. She went on vacation with her parents and didn’t call for like. Two weeks. Thought she’d died. But when she got back.” He leaned back, smiling drunkenly. “The apology sex was mind blowing.” 

“Okay!” Santiago interjected, throwing an arm around Frankie’s shoulders. “You think they’re on vacay, Fish?” 

Frankie shrugged, grabbing his own beer. “I dunno. They aren’t the vacationing type.” 

William snorted from across the table. “Just like they aren’t the phone call or meet in person type?” 

Immediately, Frankie knew where this was going. “Ironhead.” 

“I’m just saying!” William pointed out. “How do we know that Catfish isn’t being, well, catfished.” 

Frankie sighed into his bottle. “I don’t wanna talk about it Will.” 

Santiago, who was somehow the voice of reason here, nudged Frankie. “You texted yet today?” 

“No.” 

“Why don’t you?” Santiago suggested. “Then leave it alone for a while. I doubt they’re meaning to leave you, they seem too nice.” 

Frankie picked up his phone and opened his texts. Aside from the group chat he had with the boys, the aforementioned number was the last one he’d texted. 

Frankie: Hey, haven’t heard from you in a bit. You doing okay? 

Twenty miles away from the bar Frankie was in, you were leaned over the toilet in the hospital, hurling away what little applesauce you’d eaten for dinner. 

Sitting back against the cold tile of the hospital bathroom wall, you sighed deeply upon hearing your phone ping. Who the hell wanted to talk to you right now? 

Of course, it was Frankie. 

Settling down in the bathroom, you unlocked your phone and texted him back. 

You: I’m so sorry Fish. I’ve been a bit sick. 

Fish: You don’t have to apologize for that. Are you feeling any better? 

You snorted softly. As if. 

You: Not really. It’s just gotten worse. Spent most of today throwing up.

Fish: You’re drinking water, right? Gotta stay hydrated. 

You snapped a photo of your half full water bottle a nurse had brought you and sent it to Frankie. 

You: Yep! Gotta finish this before I go to bed. 

Fish: That’s good

Fish: Wait a second. Are you in the hospital? 

You swore silently. How the fuck? Unless he frequented the same hospital as you, how the hell did he even know where you were from that blurry water bottle photo? 

You: Yeah, I got here today. Nothing too serious, I was just too dehydrated

You felt bad lying to Frankie, but you really didn’t want to tell him the truth. The truth was too long, too complicated. Frankie would probably leave if he learned the truth. 

Fish: I’m not too far away, if you’re at the hospital I think you’re at. Want me to drive you home when you leave? 

You: Nah. I’m staying with family rn and it’s a haul to get out there

Another lie, another stab of pain through your heart. 

Fish: Okay. I still wanna take you out though. We could get dinner and walk around the park. 

You almost started sobbing. 

You: Oh Frankie. I wish I could. 

As soon as you typed the message, you deleted it. Best not to let him think anything was wrong. Instead, you took a minute and finally replied with, 

You: That sounds lovely Fish. 

Fish: But?

You: But I don’t think I can.

Back at the bar, Frankie was slumped over the table, staring at your tiny message of rejection. 

“Dude, that’s hard,” Benny commented. “I’m starting to think Will might be right.” 

“I’m sorry?” William said, coughing as he swallowed wrong. “Say that again?” 

“No.” Benny leaned over the table and patted Frankie’s wrist. “I got nothing dude. Nothing.” 

Santiago sighed. “Why don’t we stop giving Fish a hard time?” He said, seeing the hard lines in Frankie’s face appear. “They said they were in the hospital, so maybe it’s really bad.” 

“You think?” Frankie asked, looking up with wide eyes. 

“Maybe,” Santiago said. “They might not want you to worry about them.” 

Frankie looked back at his phone, at the waiting message. He picked his phone up and typed one more message before shutting it off and pocketing it. 

Frankie: I just wish I could get to know you. For real. 

You stared at your phone, tears sliding down your face. Frankie would never know, if you could help it. He’d never know that you were so sick all the time. That you couldn’t eat anything without hurling it up hours later. That you hadn’t uttered a single word since you’d turned sixteen. That you’d never speak another word again. 

Putting your phone away, you abandoned the water bottle and shakily crawled back into bed, sobbing silently into your pillow until you fell asleep. 

The next morning, a team of nurses checked you over and deemed you okay to leave the next day. You nodded numbly, absently fiddling with a small stuffed toy as they started your laborious morning routine. 

“This came for you last night,” a nurse said as everyone left your room. She placed a worn out baseball cap and a folded note on your bed. “From a very nice gentleman who seemed rather heartbroken.” 

The nurse left, leaving you to grab the cap and the note. 

The cap was worn out, the edges all frayed and the logo on the front nearly illegible. The note was in much better condition. 

Hey. 

So, I’m sorry about what I said last night, and I feel like a text wouldn’t have made it better. This is my favorite hat. It’s seen some shit, just like me. And just like you, I think. 

Look, last night, I sounded like a dick. I want to make it up to you, I really do. But I don’t know how to take you on a date or anything. I sure hope it isn’t because of me that you don’t want to meet. I know my nickname is Catfish but I promise I’m who I say I am. 

Tomorrow, I get off work early. If you’d let me, can I pick you up and take you out? Or at least take you back to my place for a movie or something? Please. 

Love, your Frankie. 

You ran your fingers over the lettering, memorizing how Frankie wrote every single word. Maybe, maybe it was time to open up. The worst that could happen was rejection. 

Scooping your phone up, you texted Frankie back. 

You: Tomorrow at 4, that’s when they discharge me. Get here early tho, I have some stuff to explain.

The next twenty four hours were hell for the both of you. You were both plagued by so much anxiety it was hard to do even the most basic of tasks, but you managed. Eventually, you received the text you’d been dreading all day. 

Fish: I’m here. Visiting room B. 

You took a deep breath. All your personal belongings were in a drawstring bag you put over your shoulder. You headed out of your room and slowly down the hall, towards the visiting room. 

Opening the door was the hardest thing you’d ever done. 

Once you’d opened the door, you stopped in the doorway, taking Frankie in. 

He looked exactly the same as he did in his photos. Tall, handsome, kind. He smiled upon seeing you, and you swore your heart stopped. 

“Hello,” Frankie said, moving towards you and holding out his hand.

Hello you signed, waiting for Frankie’s reaction. 

He paused, his hand falling to his side. “Mute?” 

You nodded. 

Frankie simply smiled again. “So that’s why you don’t like phone calls,” he said. “It’s okay. I know some ASL.” He paused, taking you in. “Can I hug you?” 

Yes please.

He wrapped you in a warm hug, allowing you to collapse into him. Months of text messages and listening to his voice mails were nothing compared to this. 

Eventually, he pulled away, and you two sat on the uncomfortable couch. 

“So what’s with the tube?” Frankie asked, gesturing to your face. 

You pulled a whiteboard out of your bag and began to write, going slowly so you spelled everything right. 

I have a condition called gastroparesis. My stomach is paralyzed and won’t move food to my intestines. I “eat” through a port in my side and this tube in my nose leads to my stomach, so whatever I drink can be drained out. I went mute before I got diagnosed with this.

“Oh.” Frankie blinked a few times. “So I guess dinner is off the table too.” 

You snorted, laughing as best you could with no voice. No dinner. you signed happily. But a movie would be nice.

“A movie it is,” Frankie said, standing. “C’mon. I’ve got a bunch of movies at my place. And I think the boys are coming over tonight.” 

You stood, following Frankie to his beat up old truck. He talked your ear off about all sorts of things while he drove home, and it wasn’t until he’d pulled into the driveway that you’d remembered his hat. 

Close your eyes. You signed, digging around in your bag. 

Frankie did, laughing when you snuggly placed his hat on his head. 

“Thank you,” he said, taking your hands. “I was really worried you’d catfished me at first. I didn’t know what to think when you didn’t want to call or meet. I dunno, I just thought you weren’t, y’know, you.” 

You shook your head, pulling your hands out of his. I wouldn’t dream of it.

Frankie smiled. “I love you.” 

I love you too Fish.

That night was the happiest you’d been in years. Frankie’s friends were all amazing people, and all three of them immediately overlooked your muteness and illness. You were happy and Frankie was happy. To them, that was all that mattered. 

“So Fish,” Santiago said, leaning across the couch to nudge Frankie’s bicep. “Aren’t you glad we forced you to download that dating app?” 

Frankie looked at you, curled up under his other arm, sipping water and waiting for the feed bag with your dinner in it to finish draining into your port. You looked up at him, smiling and nestling closer. 

“Yeah. I am.”