#side note: if you get a new car CHECK YOUR TYRES!

[neonshadows9000]

Anybody else that doesn't trust auditory signaling? Just me? Okay.

So today I adjusted my tyre pressure (it was wayy too low, like I need 2.7 bar and I had 1.9) at a gas station and the pump was built so you'd select the desired pressure, connect the nozzle and the pump would signal with a beep when the tyre is at that point. On one side of my car I could still double check visually (as in constantly look at the display) but on the other side my car was of course in the way so I had to completely rely on the beep. Now, the beep was loud enough to hear and everything, but it's just one beep. If it were a little melody or smt it would be different but with just one beep what if it's just somebody's phone or the machine signaling a problem or I just imagined hearing it cause I was specifically waiting for it? The display stops showing the pressure when the nozzle comes off so I couldn't double check afterwards.

Logically, I heard the beep exactly like with the other tyres, but now I'll just constantly think 'What if I disconnected too early and now the tyres are unevenly pressurised? The beep did seem to come quicker with the last tyre. Should I have taken the time to place the car the other way around to double check?'

It's such a stupid problem to have literally why does my brain do this instead of putting that energy into processing people's sentences before I ask them to repeat.

[msnmnt]

The Very First Night

Notes: Happy New Year’s Eve Eve!

I think this is my longest fic yet so I really hope you enjoy. Feedback is very much welcomed as always 🥰

Summary: On New Year's Eve, Mason’s car breaks down, leaving you both stranded in the middle of nowhere. With no choice but to find shelter till you can be rescued in the morning, you stumble upon a little B&B where you end up sharing a bed for the night. Lots of fluff as you navigate the uncertainty and awkwardness of unexpectedly being so close early on in your relationship. 🩶

You tried your best to keep your smile at bay as you looked out of the passenger window of Mason’s car. The soft sound of the radio played in the background, enjoying an otherwise comfortable silence as Mason navigated the winding country roads that looped around the lakes, guiding the two of you home.

Your fingers absent mindingly traced at the edge of the map you’d been following throughout the day, spending hours in quaint cafes, visiting quirky shops as you enjoyed some time together away from the non stop festivities.

The day had been nothing short of perfect - just the two of you away from everything with no real direction as you let the day unfold as it pleased.

After meeting at a mutual friend’s Halloween party, Mason had taken you on a few dates with each one topping the last, but you knew this one would be even tougher to beat.

The sun had began to dip beneath the horizon when a jarring sound suddenly interrupted the quiet of the car. A loud thump was followed by a scraping noise and Mason’s eyes darted to the mirror as the car veered slightly to one side.

“Shit," he muttered, slowing the car as he led it to the side of the road. "I think we’ve got a flat tyre.”

Your heart skipped in your chest as you turned to him, your voice light with worry. “Seriously?”

Mason let out a soft laugh in disbelief this was actually happening, running a hand through his hair. “Unfortunately I think so, angel.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest once more, this time at the nickname Mason had recently given you.

Mason managed to get the car into a lay by, parking it up as close to the side as possible. The evening was growing darker by the minute and all that was on Mason’s mind was how he could keep you as safe as possible.

“Wait here, I’ll go check what the damage is.” You watched on from the comfort of your heated seat as he scrunched up his brows, his tongue darting out as he inspected the tyre. After a few more moments of him shining the torch light from his phone to inspect the damage, Mason signalled it wasn't good news as he shook his head, his disappointed eyes meeting yours.

You unbuckled your seatbelt before stepping out of the car and joining Mason, straight away noticing the sharp nail that had somehow ended up impaling your transportation home.

You glanced around, tugging your bottom lip between you teeth as you thought about what you were doing to do. It was New Year’s Eve, you were quite literally in the middle of nowhere and the nearest town, or even a shop, felt miles away.

“What do we do now?” you asked, uncertainty creeping into your voice.

Mason walked around the car, inspecting the flat tyre again, He shook his head, his expression half-amused and half-annoyed. “Well, it's New Year's Eve so everyone’s probably at least half cut by now.” He signed. “And the wait for recovery is bound to be hours.”

You swallowed, trying to push down the nervousness that bubbled in your chest. "So… what, we’re just stuck here?"

Mason looked back at you with a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he tried to comfort you, sensing your apprehension at being stranded in the middle of nowhere.

Mason took your hand in his and suddenly everything felt like it would be okay.

The quiet of the countryside was broken only by the distant rustle of wind through the trees and the occasional car driving by in the distance, too far to flag down to ask for any kind of help.

“We passed a bed and breakfast not long ago, it’s just back up the road.”

You nodded, thankful to have somewhere where the two of you could feel safer than the roadside till someone was sober enough to come to your rescue in the morning.

Mason tightly gripped your hand as he spun you around so he was walking closest to the road offer he led you back in the direction you had came from. Luckily after around just 10 minutes later, you arrived at the cozy, ivy-covered inn that Mason had spotted earlier. The B&B had an old-world charm, bright lights from the windows gleaming in the early evening gloom.

You let your body embrace the warm as soon as you walked in, leaving Mason to do all the explaining to the old woman behind the desk. Luckily she was sweet and accommodating, gushing at how cold and worried you must've been.

“You're in luck, we have one room left,” she explained, her voice raspy but kind. “It’s got a large bed, so you two should be fine."

Mason glanced across to you, his heart suddenly thudding harder than it had all day. Your eyes flicked up to his, equally unsure of what to say. You'd been on a few dates, but the pair of you had agreed to take things slow.

And sharing a bed?

That was new ground entirely.

“Is that okay?” Mason asked, trying to sound casual but failing a little as he snapped you from your thoughts.

You hesitated at first but quickly nodded when you realised, offering the lady a thankful smile. “I think we’ll manage."

The room was small but charming, a warm looking quilt covering the bed and lace curtains blowing gently in the cool breeze that came from the window which was slightly ajar.

The light from a single lamp cast a soft glow over the room, and you felt your nerves spike, unsure of how you were going to handle this unexpected first night together.

A self proclaimed control freak, a B&B in the middle of nowhere was not how you had invisioned your first night with Mason.

He put the few belongings he did have down onto the small wooden desk, consisting of a phone charger and a small toiletries bag that he was grateful he always kept in the boot of his car.

“I hope she didn’t think this was a one night stand.” Mason spoke, the idea of the sweet old lady thinking he had bought a one night stand to her small and clearly family run B&B making him feel a little guilty.

You mockingly gasped, your jaw dropping open and eyes widening. “Excuse me, do I look like a one night stand kind of girl?” You thought your voice was clear with sarcasm, but Mason’s jaw tensed slightly as he became overcome with worry that he had offended you. Mason knew your relationship was still in its early days, and he daren't put even a foot wrong to mess up what he was sure was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Mason internally cursed himself for his comment, looking like a deer in the headlights as he tried to explain himself. “No! No, not at all, I just meant because we have literally like almost no belongings between us, I didn’t mean it like th-“

Your lips turned upwards as a giggle fell from your lips, a sound Mason was sure was one of the sweetest to have ever graced his ears. A wave of relief washed over Mason as he realised you were only playing around.

“Did you, um, would you want my shirt? To sleep in, I mean.” His eyes dropped down to take in your attire, a long sleeved knitted dress with a bulky cardigan over the top. “Dresses aren’t the most comfortable to sleep in.”

You raised your eyebrows. “And do you have much experience sleeping in dresses, Mr Mount?”

Mason’s cheeks reddened as he struggled to come up with a response, and you begun to feel a little bad at your relentless teasing. As much as you loved seeing him getting flustered, you felt a little guilty and didn’t want to end up accidentally pissing him off, especially when you were stranded in the middle of nowhere with no means of getting home.

You bowed your head slightly, unable to look at him. “I’m sorry, sarcasm is my defence mechanism when I’m nervous.” You mumbled out, offering a shy, apologetic smile.

“Why’re you nervous, angel?” He stepped forwards, reaching out a hand to cradle your face. It was your turn to blush this time, his long fingers cupped perfectly around your burning cheek, which did wonders to settle his own nerves. “There’s nothing to worry about, it’s just me.”

Your heart jumped in your chest as his dark orbs stared so intensely down at you. “Sharing a bed with a pretty boy is a little nerve wracking.” You admitted sheepishly.

A grin plastered across his face at your words. “Just imagine how nervous I feel with how gorgeous you are then.” He booped your nose with his thumb and you couldn't fight a big smile from forming on your face, perfectly matching his.

“I’d like it. Your shirt, if that’s still okay.”

Straight away Mason nodded. “Of course.” he took a step back and pulled at the collar of his white tee, stripping it off his body and over his head.

He muddled with the shirt, attempting to fold it up before walking over to the queen size bed and placing it on top of the duvet. Your eyes raked over his body, your heart booming as you stared at his perfectly defined back, blood rushing straight to your head as he turned to face you and you took in his bare chest for the first time.

His heart soared as your eyes became fixated on his abs, scanning over the ridges of his muscles, the light sprinkling of hair on his chest. You were completely and utterly enamoured with him.

You knew you had been caught by the smirk that was spread across Mason’s face, but he was more than happy to let you indulge in his body all you liked, deciding not to risk potentially embarrassing you by drawing attention to it.

“I’ll go to the bathroom, give you some time to get changed, okay?”

You just nodded, words escaping you as your gaze moved to his slight smile, being unable to look him in the eyes.

As soon as you heard the bathroom door click shut, you let out the breath you didn’t realise you had been holding in.

You wandered over to the small mirror that was above an old fashioned wooden desk, tousling your hair between your fingers before rubbing at the smudged eyeliner under your eyes, trying your best to rub away the mess.

You removed your cardigan, carefully placing it over the chair underneath the desk. It looked equally as ancient as the rest of the furniture in the room, and you definitely didn’t want to break anything.

You slipped off your dress, cursing yourself for not wearing matching underwear. You frowned at your boring baby pink bralette and white knickers. You couldn’t never preempted that this was the way the day was going to end.

Walking over to the end of the bed, you picked up Mason’s top and pulled it over your head, the familiar smell of his aftershave enveloping you. The shirt just about covered your bum, hitting the top of your thighs.

“Am I okay to come out?

You jumped at the sound of Mason’s voice from behind the en-suite door, taking one last look in the mirror before quickly making your way over to the bed.

“Yeah.”

If he was at home, Mason would never go to bed in anything more than a pair of boxers. But he didn’t want to risk giving you the wrong idea or making you feel uncomfortable, and so he decided to keep his jogging bottoms from the day on.

Right on queue, Mason walked in to you flopping onto the bed, stifling a laugh when the bed made an almighty creak as you settled atop it. You frowned, sitting yourself up and cringing as the bed squeaked further at your every move.

“So minimal movements throughout the night, got it.” Mason laughed, climbing onto the bed himself.

He finally turned to you, a sickly sweet feeling swarming in his tummy as he took in the sight of you in his shirt. You begun to feel nervous as you felt his eyes taking in your body, feeling a little self conscious, repositioning to enable you to tug the duvet up and wrap it over your lower body.

Mason joined you under the duvet, quickly extending his arm and beckoning for you to come snuggle up to him. You gladly obliged, tucking your head under his arm and wrapping your arm around his bare chest. The warmth of his skin against the side of your face made your mind feel hazy, the new position adding an element of intimacy to your relationship which you hadn’t been expecting to come so soon, but now it was here, you were glad to welcome it.

The clock on the wall seemed to tick louder than it had before. The quiet, steady rhythm of its hands echoed in the stillness of the room as the pair of you laid intertwined, barely moving as you just enjoyed the intimacy of the situation you had ended up in, your legs tangling together as you listened to Mason’s steady heartbeat.

The warmth from the bed had settled between you, but it was the quiet energy in the air that made it feel like time itself had slowed. You were close - closer than you had ever been before, and despite the nerves you couldn't deny how right it felt to be held in Mason's arms.

Outside, the faint sound of fireworks popped in the distance, echoing through the dark and signaling the approach of the new year. You looked back over at the ticking clock on the wall before glancing at Mason, your breath catching when you realised how close to midnight it was.

"Ten minutes to go," you murmured, voice quiet, barely above a whisper.

Mason nodded, flicking between you and the clock, then back to your face. You lifted your head slightly, still comfortably in his arms, his eyes dark and warm in the low light. They quickly locked on your lips for a brief moment before he pulled his stare back to your eyes, but the look hadn't gone unnoticed.

There it was again - the pull, the undeniable magnetic force. You felt it more now than ever.

“So, you got any resolutions?” Mason asked, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to shake the nerves. He shifted a little, the arm you weren't laying on coming down to rest on your shoulder, his thumb brushing gentle strokes on your bare skin.

You felt shivers go up your spine, your cheeks warming as he held you so tightly to his chest. Your lips twitched into a smile. “Maybe… to stop feeling so nervous around you." You paused, then added with a teasing glint in your eyes, “And to learn how to stop blushing whenever you look at me.”

Mason laughed, low and soft, but his eyes softened when they met yours. “I don’t think you can stop blushing. I mean… it’s cute."

Your heart skipped again, and you couldn’t help the way your face warmed, despite your attempts to play it cool.

You gave in, hiding your face into his chest which vibrated as he chuckled at seeing you flustered.

You gathered the courage to raise your hand up to his bare chest, gently tracing little shapes with your finger tip. A low laugh hit your ears and you swallowed at the feel of being so close to Mason for the first time. You loved his warm skin on yours, his heart now thudding loudly away under your touch.

“Tickles, baby.” Mason mumbled and you smiled, secretly rather pleased with yourself, switching to use your nails to drag random patterns over his abs. The sensation made Mason tighten his grip on your waist making goosebumps form on your body.

You let out a satisfied hum, rather pleased with yourself before stopping and twitching slightly to nuzzle further into Mason’s grip.

You cuddled back into his chest and Mason was quick to wrap his arm tightly around you once more. You laid there in complete content, not being able to stop your eyes from fluttering closed.

Mason smiled to himself, happy you felt comfortable around him.

“You sleepy, angel?” He murmed, and you barely managing to mumble back a yes.

“I wasn’t but you’re warm and cosy.”

He chuckled at that, his heart warming.

Mason lent down and gently placed a tender kiss to your head, his lips barely brushing your forehead before caressing the bare skin of your arm with the pads of his fingers.

The sound of fireworks echoed through the room, the familiar tone of the new year ringing out across the quiet, making the moment feel all the more real. Your pulse quickened, and for a moment, the world outside - the fireworks, the noise, the time - it all faded.

The pair of you were only aware of each other.

You turned your head up to Mason just as the last chime rang out. He glanced at you lovingly, taking in the moment. You swallowed, your heart beating louder in your chest. His gentle movements, the way he held you as the clock struck midnight. You knew you were right where you needed to be.

"Happy New Year, y/n." He whispered.

Before you could respond, his hand gently cupped your cheek. He leaned in slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, searching for something, permission, maybe, but you didn’t want to wait anymore. You tilted your head slightly, feeling your breath catch in your throat as you closed the distance.

The kiss was tentative at first, a soft meeting of your lips that lingered longer than either of you expected. A simple touch, almost shy, yet full of everything you were yet to say. Mason's lips were warm, his hand brushing a lock of hair behind your ear as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your hand found its way back to his chest, feeling the drum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. When he pulled back, just a fraction, your foreheads met, and for a long, lingering moment, neither of you moved.

“I didn’t think we'd end up here tonight.” Mason whispered, his voice rougher than before. “I mean, in bed with each other.”

You smiled, lips tingling from the softness of the kiss. “Me neither.” Your fingers gently traced the edge of his jaw, your gaze locked with his. “But I’m glad we did.”

“Me too,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. He shifted closer, the warmth of his body against yours sending an electric thrill through your veins.

You both knew it was more than just a kiss. It wasn’t just about the timing or the situation shared between you. It was the feeling - the way everything about today now felt like it was leading to this exact moment. A kiss shared in the quiet of an unexpected new year, both of you uncertain and shy but so completely, undeniably there in the moment.

For a moment, you just stayed close, breathing each other in. The fireworks were lighter now and through the light curtains you could see bursts of bright colours against the dark sky. But inside the room, it was just the two of you. Silent, content, and intertwined in a way neither had imagined would happen yet.

Mason didn't want to push his luck, completely respectful of your boundaries and not wanting to risk making you feel uncomfortable. But when he saw your eyes fixated on his again, following them down as they flickered towards his lips, he gently brushed his lips against yours once again, this time allowing himself to deepen the kiss as he slipped his tongue past your slightly parted lips. The moment was still soft and tender, both of you basking in the intimacy.

When you finally pulled away, it was slowly, as if neither of you wanted to fully break the spell.

You looked at Mason, cheeks flushed, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Happy New Year, Mason."

He returned your smile, his eyes shining bright with excitement for what was to come in the year ahead for the pair of you. “Happy New Year, y/n.”

[helloalycia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] —𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

summary: Jackie and you become closer and she takes it as a challenge to make you fall for her charms.

warning/s: none.

author’s note: part 2 is finally here, sorry for the delay! i’ve had a migraine all day otherwise i would’ve posted this earlier 😅 hope you like it!

one / three / masterlist / wattpad

A month passed and any reminder of my conflict with Leroy and Tiffany had faded into oblivion. Jackie was correct in assuming they'd drop their beef with me, and once my hand was healed and Jackie's face no longer looked like an overly inflated balloon, there was nothing left to remind me of the incidents that occurred.

The only thing to come out of the whole experience was being a little more than acquaintances with Jackie. I couldn't go as far as saying we were friends, but she definitely felt the need to greet me more whenever she saw me in class, and I didn't mind returning the favour.

The real shift in our relationship began when Van, Jackie, Shauna and I were grouped up for a History class project. It was a presentation we needed to pull together, so we'd all made plans to meet up to discuss everything over coffee, which is how I found myself driving there with Van in my new car.

"You know you're gonna have to take me everywhere now," Van pointed out from the passenger seat with a grin. "I'm gonna be your passenger princess."

I laughed. "Hey, I don't mind. It's a bit of a rust bucket, but it beats skateboarding everywhere." I paused, then added, "Who am I kidding? I'm gonna miss skateboarding everywhere."

"We can still hit up the skate park every now and then," she promised. "But driving is a lot easier, you can't lie."

I smiled in agreement. After using some of my savings and convincing my parents it was time to get a car, they bought me an old, second-hand banger from one of my dad's friends who owned a garage. It wasn't the best looking car, but after a wash and a little bit of sprucing up with some car accessories, it looked decent enough to serve its purpose.

Conveniently, I pulled up at the coffee shop at the same time as Shauna, who was parking a few spots down. When Van and I jumped out the car with our bags, Jackie and Shauna were already approaching us.

"Hey," Shauna greeted us both with a smile, before nodding with approval at my car. "Love the new ride, Y/L/N."

"Thanks," I said with proud smile.

"You got to the part where you have to fill the tyres with air?" she asked with amusement. "It's so awkward when everyone watches you do it."

I snorted with amusement. "I'll be lucky if I get that far. This thing is trying its best right now."

She chuckled and glanced over it once more. "It's still pretty nice. Gets you from A to B, right? Driving saves so much time, trust me."

"Very true," I agreed, before I noticed Jackie checking it out curiously, having greeted Van already. I quirked a brow as I jokingly asked, "What? Not up to the princess' standards?"

Van and Shauna exchanged amused glances whilst Jackie shot me a playful glare.

"That's not what I was thinking," she said matter-of-factly.

I stopped by her side to look at it like she was, giving her a sideways glance. "I was kidding. Kind of."

She gave me a knowing look. "It's nice."

I tried not to laugh as I said, "Thank you."

She rolled her eyes playfully before the four of us headed inside to find a table. After claiming a booth in the corner, we pulled out our supplies and textbooks to get started.

"I'll go order our drinks," I offered, before we got stuck in. "Everybody know what they want?"

After they shared their orders with me, I slid out the booth to get in the queue, but Jackie slid out alongside me.

"You might need more hands to carry it," she said, when I quirked a brow.

I shrugged and the two of us got in line to order. It didn't take long to reach the front, and after giving the barista our order and paying, Jackie decided she wanted a muffin that was on display.

"Shoot, I'm so sorry to be annoying," she said with her signature smile, albeit a little apologetic, as she pointed to the muffin. "Please can we get that too?"

The guy, probably no older than we were, nodded eagerly and got the muffin for her, placing it on the tray. "Of course. It's on the house."

I resisted the urge to smile as I raised an eyebrow, watching Jackie laugh flirtatiously.

"No! Really?" she asked with bright eyes. "You're too sweet!"

The guy shrugged casually, his cheeks turning pink as she gave him all her attention in this moment. Before we knew it, our drinks were added to the tray and I picked it up to leave.

"Thanks again," she said with a tilt of her head and a matching smile.

He watched her leave distractedly, and only when we were walking away did I let out a quiet chuckle at what I'd just witnessed.

"What?" she asked, glancing at me, as if she didn't know what she'd done.

I gave her a look of disbelief. "Seriously?" Her confused expression forced me to continue. "You just bat your eyes and get what you want?"

She looked up thoughtfully before nodding. "Pretty much."

Breathing out through my nose, I shook my head with amazement. It made sense that even strangers fell victim to the Jackie Taylor effect.

"Can you get some napkins?" she asked, flashing me the same smile she gave the barista, but I would be damned if she thought she could fool me.

"Not a chance," I said with a stifled laugh, equally amused by her frown as I was her audacity.

I returned to the booth as she went to grab some napkins for us, and the four of us got stuck in immediately. As well as getting the base of our presentation researched, we also had a nice bonding session. To be fair, Van already knew Jackie and Shauna well, but I enjoyed getting to know them too.

I especially learnt that Jackie was pretty used to getting what she wanted whenever she wanted, and having people fall head over heels for her. This was something that came to light the more time we spent together working on this project. I guess you could say that the project is what intertwined our lives again once more.

—

After yet another studying session with Jackie, Shauna and Van in the library last night, I realised I grabbed Jackie's notebook by accident and planned to return it to her the next morning at school. I found her by her locker, but she was in a conversation with Jeff and I debated whether or not to interrupt.

They weren't together, the two of them surprisingly staying broken up unlike the many other times they'd somehow got back together, so it was odd to see them talking. But it wasn't any of my business, even if I was a little curious to whether they were back together – especially after everything that happened – so I just sucked it up and politely interrupted.

When I stopped by their side awkwardly, their conversation fell quiet and Jeff glanced at me, no doubt thinking of the whole Leroy incident. Without another word, he walked away, leaving Jackie and I alone.

"Sorry," I said to her uncomfortably, before holding out her notebook. "I just wanted to give you this."

"Oh, thanks," she said, blinking, before accepting the notebook. "I was looking for this all morning."

"Yeah, I must've grabbed it by accident," I said with a small smile. "My bad."

She nodded, and I was about to leave, but then she met my eyes and said, "That wasn't–"

She'd stopped, so I prodded, "Wasn't...?"

Uneasily, she explained, "He's been trying to get back together with me. Jeff."

I chewed on my lip, unsure what to respond, because she didn't owe me any kind of explanation. But a small part of me was nosy enough to want it.

"I'm not stupid, obviously," she continued.

"Obviously," I repeated in agreement, otherwise stumped for words.

"But yeah," she finished, a small, awkward smile on her lips. "That's it."

I mirrored her smile, nodding. "Awesome... er, thanks for the update."

She cleared her throat, nodding too, and then an uncomfortable silence filled the air. I was relieved, though I would never admit it, to know that she wasn't considering going back to him. It only reaffirmed all she'd said about listening to me, and it showed that she respected whatever friendship we seemed to share.

"I'll see you in class," I said, straightening up.

She relaxed her shoulders. "Yeah. See you."

—

Shortly after finishing our group assignment together, Jackie felt the need to work with me more often, for whatever reason. She had a lot of friends, so I couldn't see why she needed me in the mix also, but I guess I wasn't totally against it.

I was walking into Chemistry class when I spotted the blonde sat where my usual lab partner, Dennis, sat. Getting a sense of deja vu, I watched her questioningly as I set my stuff down in my seat.

"Is there a particular reason you're sat there?" I asked, when she flashed me a nonchalant smile.

Placing her chin in the palm of her hand, she stared at me through her lashes. "I feel like you don't know me well enough. So, I switched partners."

I resisted the urge to laugh, oddly intrigued by whatever game she was playing. "I mean, we've only been in the same classes all our life, but–"

"It's not the same," she insisted with a wave of her hand, making me laugh.

Not caring enough to be opposed to her trading seats with Dennis, I took a seat beside her and began to get my books out. As I did, our teacher, Mr Turner, approached our table with a stern expression.

"Miss Taylor," he addressed her. "Can I ask why you're not sitting in your assigned seat?"

I watched on with amusement, wondering how she'd get herself out of this one. But if she was sweating in the slightest, it didn't show.

Shooting Mr Turner her signature smile, she said, "I'm sorry, Mr Turner. I was just about to come and ask you permission. I thought moving beside Y/N here would help improve my grade and be less of a distraction than my old partner."

I quirked a brow, glancing between him and her, and watched as his expression softened slightly. Holy shit. The Jackie Taylor effect worked on teachers too?

"Very well," he conceded. "I suppose that's alright, if it's for the betterment of your learning. Just don't let me catch you chatting through my teaching, alright?"

She nodded innocently. "Of course. I'd never disrespect you like that."

My mouth opened slightly with disbelief, her pure arse kissing astounding me. Mr Turner nodded appreciatively before returning to the front of the classroom, and Jackie turned to me with a cheeky smile.

"I'm impressed," I admitted. "Everybody really loves you, huh?"

As she grabbed her book, she shrugged, though gave me a sideways glance as if she was pouting. "Almost everyone."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "C'mon, Jackie. You have the whole school– heck, probably the whole world at your fingertips. Why are you so adamant on making me like you?"

She raised her brows impatiently. "Because I'm likeable!"

The pink tinge on her cheeks, darkening her already-existent blusher, paired with her impatience only served to make me grin. If I'd known treating Jackie Taylor like this would get her so flustered, I would have done it more often. It was definitely entertaining, and she was going through more effort than she needed to, which only made me laugh more.

As amusing as it was though, I knew she'd give up soon. I simply refused to let myself slip under the Jackie Taylor spell that she had over everyone – doing whatever she wanted, treating her like she was god's gift, there at her beck and call... Unlike every other poor soul who genuinely believed they had a chance with her, no doubt because she had a power to make you feel that way, I wasn't naive. Jackie Taylor was out of my league, as a friend or anything more.

I wasn't blind. Her powers of seduction were rooted in her beauty and ability to turn heads wherever she went. It was normal to have a tiny crush on her, I was sure of it, but I'd never let it be more than that.

Of course, there were small micro-moments where I'd let myself indulge for once, to be a little selfish and delirious. Like now, as she sat beside me in class, nodding along to what Mr Turner was explaining. From the corner of my eye, it was easy to make out the perfect curve of her jaw, the glossiness of her lips, the flutter of her eyelashes. And it would have been even easier to give into it all, especially when she asked me to grab her a lab coat from the back of the classroom, a soft smile on her lips and a single bat of her eyelashes.

But all it took was one relinquishment of power and I'd be just another fool who let Jackie Taylor create delusion in their heads. And I refused.

"I don't know what the arrangement between you and your last partner was, but here, you do things yourself," I said with a suppressed smile, appreciating the way her face dropped.

She tensed her jaw slightly, before trailing along behind me to grab a lab coat. After suiting up, we returned to our desk and I got out the lab equipment whilst she read over the worksheet we'd been given.

"Okay, first step is to turn on the bunsen burner," she read aloud, glancing at me expectantly.

"Great." I pushed over the bunsen burner to her. "Go on."

Indifferently, she straightened up and began to connect the hose to the bunsen burner, shooting me a knowing look as she connected the whole thing to the gas tap.

"I know how to do things myself, y'know," she said disapprovingly.

I chuckled. "I know, it's just fun watching you actually do it."

She huffed dramatically before twisting the gas tap without warning, making me jump back quickly as the flame lit up. Her eyes widened as she twisted it off, before falling to me with both concern and amusement.

"Shit, are you okay?" she asked, hand covering her mouth, but a smile was threatening to break out.

I released a breath, touching my shirt which almost set on fire, and shot her a look. "I am, yeah. No thanks to you!"

She began to laugh quietly. "I'm sorry. See? If you'd just done it for us, that wouldn't have happened."

"Oh, if I'd just done it for us?" I asked sarcastically, mimicking her voice.

"Yeah, you should've just listened–" she started, eyes darting between mine with entertainment.

"I should've just listened," I agreed, still as sarky as ever.

"Yes," she agreed between laughter.

I sighed, giving into my smile as she watched me with dismay. This was going to be a long lesson.

—

As much as I hated to admit it, I was enjoying having Jackie as my lab partner, looking forward to the hour lesson where she was as careless as ever when it came to our experiments, but to the satisfaction and humour of me. Of course, she could never know that all of her efforts to sway me were working, so I played it cool.

I definitely didn't expect to see her beyond that, so I was especially surprised when I showed up to the local community centre after school with the intention of improving my college application and saw her waiting outside with a few other students. I did a double take, her face being the last I expected to see.

"Hey," she said when she recognised me, moving to stand beside me with her usual blinding smile.

"Are you stalking me, Taylor?" I asked jokingly.

"You wish," she retorted with a playful eye roll. "I'm here because it looks good for my college application."

"Ah, of course."

She lifted a brow. "You?"

"Same," I admitted sheepishly, making her laugh.

Once the other students turned up, there were thirteen of us in total and the manager of the community centre met us outside to brief us. We were to work on the community garden over the coming weeks, helping to clean it up and plant some fresh produce and flowers to brighten up the place. Only once it was complete would we get a certificate of recognition for our efforts.

We got stuck in straight away, everyone assigned to different areas. Jackie and I were working on planting the flower beds, so the first thing to do was bring over the soil to the designated area. I heaved the giant bag of soil over my shoulder and brought it over, dropping it to the ground with a sigh and wiping the sweat from my head.

Giggling made me look up, and I watched as Jackie got some freshman to grab her bag, twirling her hair and fluttering her eyelashes as he dropped the bag beside mine.

"You're too sweet, Johnny," she said with a classic tilt of her head, touching his arm. "Thanks again."

He shrugged casually, clearly affected by her attention. "Anytime. You need a hand with anything else, just let me know."

She nodded in agreement and watched as he walked away before her eyes found mine.

"What?" she said like it was obvious. "It would've gotten my nails dirty."

I glanced down at the soil staining my shirt, before giving her a knowing look. "Wait until you start to plant the seeds."

Kneeling down, I used the spade provided to dig out the old dead plants from the flower beds. She kneeled down beside me, careful not to dirty her skirt as she did, and watched my hands work.

"I'm curious," I said, glancing at her. "Were you planning to help at all?"

She straightened up with a sense of pride. "Of course." And then reluctantly, she used her hands to help me remove the old plants, but not without pulling a face.

I tried not to laugh as I watched, finding a sense of satisfaction as her fingernails did indeed get stained with soil. Working alongside her, I used the spade to dig out the next plant, but it skidded across the soil, the plant too firm, and I ended up flicking a handful of soil at Jackie.

"Oh, shit," I said with a stifled smile, watching as she looked down at her clothes. "Sorry."

She breathed out slowly and dusted the soil off, but it left dark tracks in its midst. "It's fine."

"Good thing you wore your old clothes, right?" I asked, biting my lip to contain my smile.

She hummed in agreement, jaw tensing slightly, and a grin fell upon my lips. Everything she wore looked too nice to be considered old. Poor Jackie was probably not expecting to lift a finger.

For whatever reason, whether it was to prove me wrong or to prove her own point, she actually helped me with our tasks, no longer using freshmen to get everything done. It was fun, working with her, and it only gave me more time to appreciate spending with her.

Once we'd done our assigned two hours, it was finally time to leave for the day, and Jackie and I walked out together. Parked a few cars down from mine was Shauna's, and I gave Jackie a look of disbelief.

"You made Shauna pick you up?"

"Duh," she said with a shrug.

I breathed out slowly, looking up and shaking my head. "Why do I still get surprised?"

"What? That people love me?" she asked with a teasing voice.

"Yes."

She rolled her eyes, lips pressing into a smile. "I'm sure you'll figure it out. Until then, see you tomorrow."

I waved goodbye to her as she kept walking, trying to understand the hold she had on everyone. Her and her silly smiles and silly hazel eyes and silly raspy voice.

Annoyingly enough, I was starting to see it.

—

I found myself in Chemistry class later that week, doodling on my notebook as I waited for class to properly start. Jackie arrived as usual, greeting me, and when I looked up, I took a moment to find my words.

"You look different," I said without thinking, trying to figure it out.

"I'm pretty sure I don't," she said with a chuckle, sitting beside me like always.

But no, there was something different about her today, something that had me admiring her a little more closely than usual. And as I was subtly studying the freckles on her face, the slope of her nose, the golden flecks in her eyes, it hit me.

"Your hair," I said with realisation, making her look up. "It's up. You never have it up."

She lifted a brow with amusement. "I guess, maybe not often, but..."

She'd worn her hair up before, obviously, but her signature look was to leave it out, freshly curled. So, seeing her with it up just happened to draw my attention more, and also show off her pretty face a bit more, which I guess is why I noticed.

Satisfied that I'd figured it out, I nodded. "Yeah, that's it. It looks pretty like that."

Her lips curved into a soft smile, eyes darting away from mine in an uncharacteristic manner. "Er, thanks."

I didn't think much more of it as I returned to my doodling, but then from that day onwards, I noticed she began to wear her hair up more often. And every single time, I found myself admiring her secretly, letting myself indulge just that little bit more.

—

Promising to pick up Van from soccer practice today, I headed to the field to wait in the bleachers for her, having killed time studying all I could before my brain would fry itself. I was a little early, so the Yellowjackets were still practicing.

I took that as my opportunity to get comfortable at the bottom of the bleachers, feet leaning on the ones in front of me as I pulled my headphones on and focused on my book. I was deep into it when something hit me and I jumped, startled.

Yanking my headphones off, I looked down to see a bottle cap, and then looked up to see a laughing Jackie stood by the bench on the field, bottle of water in hand.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically, before tossing the cap back at her, which she swiftly dodged.

"What are you doing here?" she asked with a grin.

Admittedly, she looked really cute right now, dressed in the school gym kit, a little sweaty and her face flushed pink from all the running she'd done. But I would never give her that satisfaction, so sarcasm was my next best defence.

"Oh, I just had to come and see Jackie Taylor in all of her team captain glory."

She raised her brows, pausing. "Really?"

"No. I'm here to pick Van up."

She scoffed gently, rolling her eyes.

"As much as your many admirers would love to watch you practice, I'm not one of them," I teased.

"Hilarious," she said with narrowed eyes, making me grin. Dismissing my mockery, she asked, "Are you coming to the pep rally tomorrow? First game of the season is this week."

I leaned back, thinking about it. "Eh, why not?"

Hand on her hip, she shot me a disapproving smile. "Don't sound too enthusiastic or anything."

I crossed my legs comfortably as I met her challenging stare. "I'm not big on the whole soccer thing. I'm just going to support Van. That's what a good friend would do."

She began to smile, a glint of amusement in her gaze. "A good friend, huh? Pat yourself on the back much?"

"Someone has to."

She looked away with disbelief, hiding a smile. "Wow, I see."

I quirked a brow, smile forming on my lips. "See how annoying that is? That's what it's like having a conversation with you."

She pursed her lips as she looked over me with feigned irritation. "Touché, Y/N."

I flashed her a satisfied smile as she finished the last of her water before flipping me off then jogging back to the others. I chuckled to myself as I watched her leave, admittedly checking her out as I did. Stupid Jackie and her stupid cute face.

—

We were well into October when it happened. I couldn't have seen it coming in the slightest.

Lottie, one of Van's teammates, was hosting the ultimate Halloween party at her mansion of her house, able to get away with it because her parents were away. Everybody was attending, and if Van herself didn't invite me, at least ten other people had because of how awesome it was supposed to be. Naturally, I said yes, loving a party more than anyone else but especially a costume party.

So, I showed up with Van and Taissa, the latter opting for a Catwoman costume that she very much pulled off, and Van and I dressing up as two of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles – her as Michelangelo and myself as Leonardo. They were iconic outfits, what could I say?

Of course, I may have felt a little stupid when we met up with the rest of Van's team, including Jackie who looked drool-worthy in her Supergirl costume.

"Wow, you two look...," she began when she saw Van and I, eyes flickering between our matching costumes. "It's very you."

Van swung her nunchucks in agreement. "I thought so too. Love the sexy Supergirl getup."

Jackie stifled a smile as she nodded in acknowledgement, before her eyes fell to me. "Which one are you? Raphael?"

I pointed to the blue bandana over my eyes. "Leonardo, obviously."

A grin broke out on her lips as she touched the bandana, pulling it over my eyes a bit better and also sending goosebumps all over my skin at her touch. "Obviously."

I swallowed thickly, trying not to let my eyes drift below her head, because her costume was very tight and she looked very good right now.

"Nat's pouring everyone drinks in the kitchen," she said, looking between the three of us. "You coming?"

"Hell yeah," Van spoke for us all, raising her nunchucks in the air, before glancing back at Taissa and I. "Leonardo and Catwoman, on my six!"

I cracked a smile as I readied my sword and followed after my idiot best friend. 

It was admittedly an eventful first few hours, with Van and I stressing Taissa out enough times that she was forced to take our pretend weapons off us for the rest of the party. Apparently assuming the personas of our costumes wasn't going down well with her, which, in hindsight, was fair when I remembered how drunk we got.

At one point, I found myself rambling to some random guy about the lore of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, aware that he was passed out on the couch beside me but still talking anyway, when Jackie strolled over to me, just as drunk as I was.

"There you are," she said with a grin. "Come dance with me."

"Jackie, I'm in the middle of a conversation," I said, motioning to my passed out friend.

"He's asleep, idiot," she pointed out, before outstretching her hand and wiggling it. "Come on."

I batted her hand away. "I don't dance."

She lost her smile as her patience ran quicker now that her inhibitions were lowered. "Y/N."

Finding it amusing, I motioned around us. "There's a billion people here. One of them would kill to dance with you. Why not ask them?"

"I'm asking you," she said through gritted teeth.

Not really aware of her anger, I pushed myself off the couch with a stretch. "I'm hungry."

She glared at me as I walked away, pushing through the party-goers and intending to find the kitchen, but Lottie's house was huge and I'd already forgotten the layout. I opened several wrong doors, and then on the last one – some sort of games room – I felt someone shove me from behind, forcing me in.

"Hey–!"

"Why does nothing work with you?!" Jackie interrupted my complaining, shutting the door behind her and fixing me with a frustrated stare.

I blinked, confused.

She scoffed, uncrossing her arms and rolling her eyes. "I've been trying to get your attention for months, you idiot! I even started–" she faltered, embarrassed, "wearing my hair up because of one stupid compliment you gave me."

My brain was working slower than usual, so her words were catching up to me little by little. "I noticed that."

Still not happy, she narrowed her eyes at me. "Why do I even try?"

Realising this was about the Jackie Taylor effect, as I'd rightly dubbed it now, I said, "Everybody loves you. Why is it so important if I don't?"

Her eyes flickered between mine, and I was certain she was going to slap me or berate me or shout at me. But then her expression softened and she admitted, "Because I want you to."

I didn't get chance to register her words before she stepped forward, pressing her lips to mine. Her fingers curled around the back of my neck and I found myself melting under her touch, falling right into her. Her lips tasted like alcohol, tobacco and strawberry lipgloss, and I was suddenly eager to taste her concoction even more, all my senses heightened as I pulled her close.

She moved her lips against mine eagerly, fingers sending shivers down my spine as they tickled my skin, and I pushed my tongue between her lips in retaliation, not even thinking about anything other than her. We broke apart for air, barely seconds passing before our lips reconnected, and I was infatuated with every part of the blonde that had been on my mind these past few months.

Time was a drunken haze – we could have been there for seconds or hours for all I knew – and we were unfortunately interrupted by the sound of the door suddenly opening. Our sloppy movements meant we pulled apart a second too late, and we turned to see Van standing there in her Michelangelo costume. God, did I look that stupid right now?

"You're both trashed," she said, words slurred, before she looked to me. "C'mon. Catwoman is taking us home." Then she looked to Jackie, adding, "Shauna's looking for you."

I glanced at Jackie, heart still racing and her taste still on my lips. The state I was in made everything feel like it was so distant, as if it was happening to someone else, so I still hadn't truly acknowledged what had just happened between us. Jackie was already looking at me, eyes half lidded and cheeks flushed. I almost wanted to kiss her again, but Van impatiently calling my name snapped me out of it.

"Coming," I told her, before tearing my eyes from Jackie and following after Van.

[charles-leclerc-official]

Hi!! I hope you’re having a good day, just wanted to let you know I really love your race analysis!! I was wondering if you have any tips for newbies for analyzing races? I’m just getting into f1 but I really want to be able to understand the races and you always have such great insights! 🫶

Ah thank you so much! It means so much to hear that <3

So here are some easy first steps(I have listed all links and resources at the bottom)

Re-watch races/take notes: It can be very easy to get caught up in the emotion of a race if you are watching live. Re-watching after you've had your emotional reaction helps you see what actually happened from a less clouded lens. This may sound silly but seriously it makes a big difference(and you can tell so many analysts do not do this)

Watch free practice and qualifying: Not everyone does and as we've seen a lot about a race can be determined in free practice. Especially take note of what the drivers are telling their team as feedback on the feel of the car over the radio. This is really valuable information.

Play around on F1 Tempo - this is one of my favorite websites, lets you see the telemetry from races and also qualifying and free practice. Just mess around comparing laps and understanding how the site works. It may look scary but you get the hang of it pretty quickly. It's really fun!

Don't expect to be an expert on everything: I'm obviously way more dialed into everything going on at Ferrari with their car development and drivers than say Haas. So focus on the teams and drivers you care about, don't think you need to do it all at once.

I know this doesn't sound like much but it seriously will get you started, most people(who claim to be analysts) don't even do this much, they watch the race and call it good(and that is totally valid by the way, this post is if you really want to dig into analysis).

These next few tips are if you want to get even more involved ↓

5. Learn some of the basic parts of an F1 car: You don't need to learn all 20,000 that Williams has on their spreadsheet, but familiarize yourself with the major components of an F1 car and their general function.

6. Research track characteristics: Every track is different and that always plays a role in analysis. The Formula 1 website has a tab on the race schedule where you can learn about a track, it's a good overview of what a track is like and gives some helpful stats.

7. Learn tyres: knowing tyre compounds, their functions, and how track conditions affect them makes a big difference. When I started watching F1 at first I was always confused by why cars were behaving a certain way, then I learned about tyres and a lot of things started to make sense. It's a really important part of in depth race analysis in my opinion.

8. F1 race visualizer: helps you look at positioning so you can see lap by lap replay for the ordering of the track. This is really helpful to see overall track shifts, and also to see who was behind or ahead of who and for how long.

9. Watch onboards: obviously during the broadcast we are only ever shown a fraction of what happens in any given race. I always watch Charles' onboards. And if there is a moment I really want to see I can go check onboards. So if for example I want to see what happened with Logan's race, they don't show most of that, but I can see everything through his onboards if I need.

10. Follow sources reporting on current developments in your team of interest: these will keep you up to date with what is going on with the car on the technical side. You can see what the team is saying about the development direction etc. What to follow really depends on your team.

I'd say these are good first steps to take to feel more informed about a race and what's going on at a particular team. This is probably "beginner" and "intermediate" tips, and I advise starting slow if you are brand new. Practice forming your own opinions and making your own observations. It can take a little bit to get the hang of so remember to be kind to yourself and don't expect everything to make sense overnight.

If anyone wants I can also make advanced analysis tips for those interested.

The important thing is that you are learning what you want and having fun with it!

Also obviously I am here if anyone has any questions <3

Resources F1 tempo - for race telemetry data Formula 1 race visualizer - for field placement lap by lap Formula 1 track info - Info and data on any given track in the F1 calendar (Monaco for example)

[enterprisecarsnz]

Ultimate Guide to Inspecting Used Cars: What You Need to Know

 In the world of car shopping, opting to buy used cars can be a savvy choice. However, it comes with its own set of challenges. 

Ensuring that you're making a wise investment requires thorough inspection and evaluation. Fear not, as we've compiled the ultimate guide to help you navigate through the process seamlessly.

Why Buy Used Cars?

Before delving into the nitty-gritty of inspection, let's briefly touch upon why choosing to buy used cars in Auckland can be advantageous. Firstly, buying used often means significant cost savings compared to purchasing a brand-new vehicle. 

Additionally, used cars typically experience slower depreciation rates, allowing you to retain more value over time. Moreover, a broader selection is available when opting for used, giving you the opportunity to find the perfect fit for your needs and budget.

Pre-Inspection Preparation

Before you start inspecting any used cars on your radar, it's essential to do some groundwork. Begin by researching the specific make and model you're interested in. 

Look into common issues, recalls, and user reviews to gain insight into potential red flags. Additionally, consider getting a vehicle history report to uncover any past accidents or damage.

Exterior Examination

When physically inspecting a used car, start with the exterior. Look for signs of rust, dents, or scratches. Pay close attention to panel alignment, as uneven gaps could indicate previous repairs. 

Check the condition of the tyres, ensuring they have adequate tread depth and even wear. Don't forget to inspect the lights, mirrors, and windshield for any cracks or malfunctions.

Interior Inspection

Moving on to the interior, take note of any unusual odours, stains, or signs of excessive wear. Test all the features, including the air conditioning, heating, stereo system, and power windows. 

Check the functionality of the seats, adjusting them to various positions. Be thorough in examining the dashboard for warning lights or error messages.

Under the Hood Assessment

Pop the hood and inspect the engine bay closely. Look for any leaks, corrosion, or loose components. Check the fluid levels and condition, including oil, coolant, and brake fluid. 

Pay attention to the belts and hoses for signs of wear or cracking. If possible, start the engine and listen for any unusual sounds or vibrations.

Test Drive Experience

The ultimate test comes with taking the used car for a spin. Pay attention to how it handles acceleration, braking, and steering. Listen for any noises, such as squeaks, rattles, or grinding sounds. 

Test the brakes, ensuring they feel responsive and don't exhibit any pulling to one side. Take the used car on a variety of roads to evaluate its overall performance and comfort.

Final Considerations

Before finalising your decision to buy used cars in Auckland, it's crucial to gather all the necessary information and weigh your options carefully. 

Consider getting a professional inspection from a trusted mechanic to uncover any hidden issues. Negotiate with the seller based on your findings, and be prepared to walk away if the deal doesn't align with your expectations.

Conclusion

Mastering the art of inspecting used cars is a powerful skill that can save you time, money, and headaches in the long run. By following the comprehensive guidelines outlined in this ultimate guide, you empower yourself with the knowledge to make informed decisions and avoid potential pitfalls when purchasing a pre-owned vehicle. 

Remember, a thorough inspection is not just about kicking the tyres; it's about delving deep into the car's history, mechanics, and overall condition. Armed with this understanding, you can confidently navigate the used car market and find the perfect ride that meets both your needs and expectations.

[danielfuckingricciardo]

That Sense of Passion and Anger

Pairing - Max Verstappen x Reader + slight Daniel Ricciardo x Reader if you squint

Word Count - 4.1k

Content Warning - Swearing, violence, alcohol, rough sex, blood, biting, bruising, Ginger Spice’s husband mention.

Synopsis - The Reader’s anger gets the better of her as she confronts Max rather publicly for the crash he had caused between them. Despite planning a casual evening of wallowing in sadness, the Reader receives a visit from a certain driver who’s reaction to her outburst is different than she’d anticipated.

Author’s Note - This fic came from a rather spicy dream I had last night that I had to bring to life for my lovely readers! I wrote this instead of writing my final assignment, because erotica is definitely more important to me than my degree at this point lol. Also, check me out writing my first fic that isn’t Daniel… okay maybe it is a bit, but it’s just a bit of flirting which is basically friendship really. However, if I do write a second part to this one, expect Daniel content. Anyways, feel free to DM me about anything you liked, or leave me a comment, and consider reblogging or dropping a like if you enjoyed!

“Alright, (Y/N), just one more lap to go. Max is 0.3 behind.” You hear the voice say in your ear. “Yeah, I see him.” You mumble as you slow into the next corner, following the racing line with precision. Your teammate is on full form, with a fresher set of tyres than yours, and manages to quickly close the gap, almost driving side by side as you enter the penultimate corner of the track. He takes the inside line, attempting to squeeze past you into the corner. “What is this fucking crazy bastard doing?” You shout to your team, narrowly avoiding hitting his car by swerving quickly into the centre of the track. Max passes you and you shout into your headset, gritting your teeth in rage.

At the final straight of the track, you are able to close in on Max. With the power of slipstreaming on your side, you pull up beside him, the finish line in sight. You notice his tyre turn towards you for a millisecond and panic, sharply turning the wheel to avoid collision, causing you to veer off into the walls surrounding the track and ricochet back into Max’s own car. Both cars come to a stop in the middle of the track, and neither of you move. “Are you okay, (Y/N)?” You hear through your headset, and you grunt in response, your body so filled with anger you’re left unable to speak. “I’m gonna kill that reckless motherfucker!” You shout to your team, who seem unsure of how to respond. Since taking your seat at Red Bull, you’d had built quite a reputation for yourself as no-nonsense, competitive and often aggressive. Being the only female driver in the paddock, you were often criticised far more than your teammate for doing many of the same things, often branded a ‘crazy woman’ or ‘psycho bitch’ by the news media. You didn’t care, you took your job seriously, and wanted to win, and you weren’t going to let your teammate get away with this one.

You jump out of the car, throwing your wheel rather more aggressively than you had wanted before storming away from the cars and from Max who had just freed himself from his own car. You were seeing red, your head so filled with anger you worried what you might have done had he attempted to talk to you. Storming back to the paddock, you notice no one even daring to talk to you, only the odd camera pointed at you as you complete your walk of shame. You rip your helmet off of your head and release your hair from the tight braids you had styled that morning, causing it to fluff around your face in an unruly manner. Once back in the paddock, you throw your helmet down onto a chair as everyone looks at you, unsure of what to say or do. “Just don’t. Don’t fucking bother, I can’t do this right now.” You say, holding up your hands to keep your team away from you. They back off, allowing you to retreat to the empty room you had claimed as your own for the weekend.

This had been your weekend. The first time you’d ever outqualified your teammate, your first pole position and first time ever leading a Grand Prix. You’d felt confident going into today, and your confidence had been more than warranted, remaining unchallenged for first place throughout the race until it’s final moments. It was no secret that you and Max had struggled to bond, people often said that you were just too similar. Both driven, passionate, hot-headed individuals who were bound to clash both on and off the track. You tried to be good for the cameras, to banter like the other drivers and make good content for the fans, but you just couldn’t get along. Clearly your hatred of each other was mutual, if he was willing to risk his own race to end yours and prevent you getting your first ever win, he wanted to see you fail. You covered your face with your hands and paced back and forth, your anger making your every limb feel restless, desperate for it’s release. No matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to shake your frustration, and end up grabbing a pillow from the couch and screaming into it. However, the pillow had not been as effective a muffler as you had hoped, as you hear a soft knock on the door to your room. “Sorry, I’ll come out now, I just needed a few moments.” You say, your breathing heavy. “Take your time.” The voice says beyond the door, and you throw the pillow back down onto the couch.

You begin to unfasten your suit, the material suddenly feeling stifling and claustrophobic against your skin. You tie the sleeves around your waist before heading out of the room, where you are greeted by a sea of sympathetic faces. You make eye-contact with Christian across the room and can’t help but roll your eyes. Despite the crash not being your fault, you knew you would still be held to blame somehow, and spend the next week getting yelled at and lectured for no reason. In that moment, you notice just who Christian is talking to, and you immediately see red. Before your brain can tell your body to stop, you find yourself marching across the paddock, grabbing Max by the shoulder and pushing him back so he stumbles. “Are you fucking crazy or just stupid, hm?” You shout at him, jabbing him in the shoulder with your index finger. He seems too shocked at your actions to say anything, so you push him again. “Or maybe you’re incapable of thinking about anyone else than yourself? ‘Oh I’m Max Verstappen, and I only care about winning races, and if I can’t win then no one else can. Fuck my team, fuck my teammates, I’m the only thing that matters.’ Is that accurate?” You mock, and he just stares at you, his mouth agape. You grab him by his collar and pull him towards you, your faces just centimetres apart. “You pull any shit like that again, and I will knock you the fuck out, understood?” You hiss, refusing to break eye contact with the slightly scared looking man in your grasp. At this moment, an engineer grabs your shoulders and you release Max, who backs off into the corner of the room. The engineer guides you to the back room, and you throw your shaky body down on the sofa, curling into the foetal position and hugging your legs close to you for comfort. “I’ll give you some space, but I’ll be around if you need anything.” He says, offering you a small smile, and you weakly manage to return the favour. “Thanks, mate, I appreciate it.” You say, nodding your head at him as he leaves and closes the door behind him.

You grab your phone and headphones from the drawer beside the sofa and shuffle your favourite playlist, the music instantly grounding you and bringing you back to normality. You breathe deeply in and out to the mellow pace of the song, but are interrupted by the familiar beep of a text notification from none other than Daniel Ricciardo. ‘Ya good?’ The message reads, and you cant help but let out a small chuckle. ‘On top of the fucking world, mate’ you reply, adding a couple of eye roll emojis for good measure. ‘Can imagine’ he fires back and you sigh. You can’t help but wonder if it was all this toxicity behind the scenes that caused Daniel to vacate the seat that you ended up filling? ‘What the fuck do I do?’ You ask, and the three little dots appear and disappear multiple times as he attempts to come up with a response. Eventually, your phone begins to ring and you answer. “Couldn’t be bothered to type out all this shit, sorry.” Daniel says. “No worries, impart your wisdom on me, oh ancient one.” You say in a dramatic fashion, attempting to lighten your own mood. “First off, never call me ancient again, secondly, here’s the advice you so very severely need.” “Lay it on me” “Do not, under any circumstances, beat him the fuck up.” Daniel says, rather matter-of-factly. “You know about that?” You gasp down the phone, slapping your hand to your mouth. “Baby, there are cameras everywhere. You’re trending on twitter.” Daniel laughs. “Fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck no!” You shout, beginning to hyperventilate. “People seem to be on your side, but still, no actual violence. You don’t wanna get arrested. That would be… very bad.” He responds in a soothing tone. You take a few deep breaths and sigh. “I never meant to do any of that, it’s like my body took control and did all those things and my brain couldn’t stop it. If I could go back and change what I did, I’d do it in a heartbeat.” You say, panic audible in your voice. “Hindsight is a wonderful thing, baby, but what matters is, you didn’t hit him, and he isn’t reporting you for assault.” “I suppose that’s true. I could be in deep deep shit if Max was pressing charges.” You say, pressing the phone to your ear and cuddling your legs to your chest again. “Hey, he’s just as bad as you and probably would have done the same in your place. You guys are like two peas in a very angry pod.” Daniel laughs and you frown to yourself. “I wish people would stop saying we’re alike. I would never have done that to him, ever.” You sulk down the phone and Daniel laughs. “Whatever you say, baby. Look, I’ve gotta go, text me if you need anything, okay?” “Thanks Dan, you’re the man.” You say, chuckling at your accidental rhyming couplet. He laughs and hangs up as you hear someone calling him in the distance.

You arrive back at your hotel room completely dishevelled and drained from the day. Having to go out and face the press and talk about and apologise for your angry outburst had left you feeling empty. Mainly because you didn’t feel sorry at all. Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have manhandled him the way that you did, but you weren’t sorry for calling him out for his reckless actions. He needed to be put in his place. You throw yourself down on the fluffy white sheets of the bed and inhale the smell of the freshly laundered linen, concocting a plan in your mind to order room service, get drunk on the mini bar and watch TV in a foreign language until you fall asleep. You shuffle from your confortable position, closing the curtains to the balcony and grabbing the first miniature whiskey bottle from the bar. The alcohol goes down almost too smoothly, and soon you find yourself three bottles down and trying to understand the plot of a show in a different language without English subtitles.

A knock on the door interrupts the drinking of your fourth bottle, having drunk all the whiskey you had now moved onto vodka which doesn’t go down quite as smoothly as you head to open the door. You take a glimpse through the peephole and roll your eyes, before opening the door to poke your head through. “What the fuck do you want?” You ask rather sharply, the alcohol preventing the little desire you had to be polite. “I needed to come and talk to you.” Max says, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “So, talk to me then. Let’s get it over with.” You say, sighing dramatically to show him just how unwanted his presence really is. “I’m sorry.” He says, looking awkwardly at the ground. “Come again?” You laugh in disbelief. “Can I come in, please?” He asks, and you find yourself opening the door and inviting him into your room. He wanders past you and stands awkwardly in the middle of your dark room, glancing at the empty bottles of liquor on the bed. “They’re only miniatures, that’s like two doubles.” You say, walking past him and sitting down on the bed. “I’m not judging.” He says, flashing you an awkward smile. “Look, I’m not being mean but I want to get back to my depressing evening of emptying the mini fridge and watching shit on the TV, so can you just, say whatever it is you need to say, and go?” You say, and he bites his lip. “I came to say I’m sorry.” He says, and you sigh. “You already said that.” You respond, grabbing the remote and turning the TV back on. “I fucked up. I made a huge mistake and I ruined your day. And my day too.” he sighs and wipes his face with his hands, “But that doesn’t matter, it’s not about me, just, I’m sorry (Y/N).” You look up at him in disbelief and turn the TV off, leaving the room in an awkward state of silence. You stand from your position on the bed and walk over to Max. “I’m not sorry for what I did. Christian made me say I was, but I’m not. I wish I’d handled it differently, sure, but I’m owning what I did do. You fucked everything up for me, and I’m so fucking mad I could- agh!” You say, the alcohol in your system making it come out slightly more aggressive than you intended. “You shouldn’t have to be sorry. I deserved it. I deserved more. These days people are so frightened of anger. Anger is just as valid an emotion as happiness or sadness and yet we’re expected to just ignore it. You don’t hold back, and I admire that.” He says, and you look up at him, examining his steely gaze. “You admire me because I threatened you?” You ask, tilting your head slightly. “I admire your passion, which is what drove you to threaten me. Anger and passion are similar, I think, perhaps they are the same.” He responds, leaning in towards you slightly as he does so. “I get told by people that we’re similar, and I suppose I’ve never seen it before today, but I think you’re right. I think it’s that sense of passion and anger we both have in common.” You say, biting your lip as you make eye contact for the first time. Somehow, this sets something off in the two of you, as he roughly grips the sides of your face with his hands and collides his lips into your own. You tangle one hand in his hair, the other finding the hem of his shirt and tugging it upwards, caressing every inch of his toned chest. He pushes you aggressively against the wall and you grunt, pulling his hair hard and causing him to break contact with your lips.

“Fuck you.” You spit, and he laughs, lowering one of his hands from it’s grip on your cheek to your neck and pressing on your wind pipe. “If you’re lucky, you might.” He says, and you yank his hair, causing a moan to escape his lips. “I hate you” You spit, biting your lip to suppress a smirk. “I hate you too.” He responds, before taking his hands away from your neck and using them to undress you, taking his time as he removes your shirt and pants as if he is trying to commit every inch of you to memory. You trail your hands down his body and find the hem of his shirt, which you toy with, pulling it further and further up before discarding it on the floor. You caress his chest, moving your hands further and further down until you reach the already strained zipper of his jeans. You smirk as you take it slow, making sure to brush your fingers across his cock through the fabric as you remove the outer layer. “Don’t be a fucking tease.” He says, and you scoff, wrapping your arms around his neck and connecting your mouth with the soft tissue. You gently suck and tease the area with your teeth as his arms snake around your waist, pulling you closer. You bite down, hard enough to draw blood and he flinches, his cock twitching against your leg. “If I didnt know any better, I’d say you enjoyed it when I threatened you. When I grabbed you and pushed you, hm?” You say, pausing intermittently to lap up the droplets of blood from his neck. He responds by grabbing your ass and lifting you up, throwing you down on the bed and straddling you. “Is that a yes?” You ask, raising you eyebrow. “Yes” He whispers in your ear as he grabs your wrists and holds them tightly above your head. You bite your lip to suppress a smirk and rub your thighs together, your aching core now desperate for contact. Max notices this and trails one hand down your body, rubbing your clit over your wet panties causing you to squirm against the bed.

“You want me to fuck you, hm?” He asks, bringing his lips to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Make my day.” You say, a sexy smirk on your face which causes him to chuckle. He releases your hands from his grip and you immediately loop your arms around his waist, tugging at the elastic of his boxers impatiently. He brings his hand to your own and pulls the fabric down, revealing his erect cock. You use your hand to gently caress the shaft, working your way up to the sensitive tip eliciting a filthy moan from him. He pulls down your panties and runs his hand across your aching wet folds, stopping at your clit which he circles with the pad of his finger. You buck your hips up into the contact, your back arching and head heavy against the bed. You loop your arms around Max’s neck and pull your body up off of the bed, pressing your breasts against him. “You’re taking too long. Now I’m going to fuck you instead.” You whisper in his ear in a sultry tone, before gripping his ear lobe between your teeth and biting it gently. You adjust your position so that Max is beneath you, his hands squeezing your hips tightly enough to leave bruises, before lowering yourself down onto him with a groan. Your movements begin slowly but pick up the pace as you fall into each other’s rhythm, bouncing up and down on his cock and releasing a pornographic moan every time he hits the right spot. You throw your head back as your pace quickens, and he buries his head in your neck, sucking just the right spot on your windpipe and driving you crazy. The sensation of his cock buried deep within you, his mouth on your flesh and his fingers digging deep into your hips flood your senses, becoming almost overwhelming with the pleasure they provide.

“Fuck, I’m close.” Max says, his breathing heavy as his grip on your hips begins to weaken. “I want you to cum inside me.” You say, and he presses his face to yours, your noses and foreheads becoming one before he steals your lips in a filthy kiss. You bite down on his lower lip and he moans into you, louder and more unrestrained than before as he cums, his hips bucking as he sloppily fucks into you through his own orgasm. The sensation of his hot cum inside you triggers your orgasm, the walls of your cunt tightening against his cock inside of you. “Fuck, Max.” You catch yourself moaning into his ear, and you notice a smug smirk growing on his face. You ride him through your orgasm before eventually collapsing into him, the two of you falling against the bed in a tangle of skin and sweat, your chests heaving in an attempt to catch your breath. “You still admire my passion?” You ask, quirking an eyebrow at him. “It is definitely admirable.” He responds, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face.

The morning sunshine blares through the gaps in the curtains and wakes you up from your slumber. You roll over in the bed and realise you are alone, despite having company upon falling asleep the previous night. With a cool hand placed gently over your sore head, you grab your phone from the night stand and check for messages - nothing. While last night had been in no way a declaration of love or friendship, you had hoped that he’d stick around to work out what it had been. Surely something, no matter how small, must have changed between the two of you. In need of some useful advice, you open your text threat with Daniel and send him a ‘U up?’ Accompanied by a winky face emoji. You fall out of bed and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, six perfect bruises shaped like Max’s fingerprints rest around your hips. No matter how hard you try to resist it, you place your fingers atop the bruises where his had been the previous night and caress the damaged flesh. Your phone beeps and you open Daniel’s reply, ‘For you baby, always. Pancakes?’ You scoff at his implication, before firing off a quick ‘ofc’ and heading to the bathroom to get changed.

“You fucked!” Daniel exclaims, and you push a strawberry from your bowl into his mouth. “Not so loud, please, I don’t want the entire world knowing before lunchtime.” You say, eating a forkful of fruit. “Was he good?” He asks as he begins to aggressively attack his pancakes with his cutlery. “He was…” You pause, taking another mouthful of breakfast while deep in thought, “different.” “How different?” Daniel asks and you roll your eyes. “You know how it is, when you usually hook up with someone and there’s a positive feeling behind it? Even if it’s just a one night stand or a quickie in a janitor’s cupboard?” You say, gesturing with an apple slice on the end of your fork. “I am learning a lot about your sex life, but yeah, continue.” “It didn’t feel like that. It was good, but it was just hate fucking. There was no positive emotion there, just passion, and not the happy kind. And the fact that he was gone before I woke up really says a lot, doesn’t it? He doesn’t give a shit about me now in the same way he didn’t give a shit yesterday. The only difference is now, he knows how I shave my pubes.” You say, finishing your bowl of fruit and reaching for the stack of pancakes with blueberries in the centre of the table. “How do you shave your pubes?” Daniel asks, and you reach forward to slap him on the arm. “That’s for me to know, and you to find out.” You laugh, offering him a comically exaggerated wink. “Just gimme the time, date and dress code baby, I’ll be there.” He responds, returning your exaggerated wink and taking a sip of his coffee.

Meanwhile, the hotel housekeeper knocks on the door of your room to receive no response. She enters your room and begins to strip the sheets, and notices a folded sheet of paper addressed to (Y/N), fall out of the duvet and onto the floor. Upon seeing this, the housekeeper can’t fight her curiosity and reads it. ‘Y/N, I have a busy morning and have to leave you, though I wish I could stay to see you wake up. Last night was great. Send me a text, we can meet for lunch maybe?’ A smudged phone number completes the note, and the housekeeper folds it back up. Assuming the note had already been read by it’s recipient upon waking up, the housekeeper screws it into a ball and throws it into the trash can, before leaving the room and locking the door behind her.

[moralesispunk]

casually sliiiiides into your asks 👀 wanna tell us more about Frankie’s love languages? (-letterfromvienna xoxo)

Ahhhhh, yes, yes, yes! I could talk about this all day (also sorry this took so long I wrote a lot more than I thought I would! 1.2k whoops so I put it under the cut)

I genuinely think that Frankie would love you with his whole entire being and that's why there's a little bit of every love language in the way he loves you.

His main love language is definitely physical touch. Frankie just loves to have his hands on you in some way and it's got to the point where he would feel strange sitting next to you if he didn't at least have a hand resting on your leg. He remembers how nervous he had been to hold your hand on the second date in fear that you would shake him off, but then you squeezed his hand that bit tighter and gave him a smile that had him swearing he would never let go. When he drives he always has his hand resting on your thigh, drawing mindless circles over your jeans when you're stuck in traffic. If you're watching a film at the movies he has an arm around your shoulder, squeezing it gently to catch your attention when he wants to whisper something to you or pulling you closer into his side at a scary part. If you're watching a film at home then he has you both lying out on the sofa, often with you lying on top of him or between his legs and resting back against his chest so he can wrap his arms around you (and you especially love this because you are surrounded by his warmth and feel every little move of his soft tummy against your back when he laughs at the film). Sometimes when you're sitting on the sofa just reading your book you can feel him hovering around and so you beckon him over to lie with his head on your lap while you play with his hair until he falls asleep; he really loves that. He just likes knowing that you're there with him and touch is his favourite way to do that.

Acts of service is a close second for Frankie when it comes to love languages. Sometimes Frankie feels like he isn't good enough for you and he gets in his head a little bit about it but then he slowly starts to think about the little things he does for you. He doesn't do them for that reason, he genuinely just wants to make your life easier. I obviously wrote about how he defrosts your car on cold mornings (that still makes me so soft) but it's so much more than that. He sees the sticky note on the calendar for the errand you've been meaning to run and haven't had the chance so he does it for you. He has an alert on his phone that reminds him to check your oil every so often. If you don't like making phone calls then he does all the ones you've been putting off: making the hair appointment, the dentist, the doctor, dinner reservations… He works on your car and realises your petrol light is almost on so he fills it up for you. He notices that your water bottle is almost empty so fills it up so you don’t have to get up. He makes sure your medicine is set out for you in the morning/at night. Anything that can make your day a little easier he wants to do. Then when that voice starts to tell him he's not good enough he remembers the way you look at him like he just hung the stars out in the sky for you, which he would if he could, when he really just put more air in your car tyre.

Quality time for Frankie goes hand in hand with physical touch; it's the feeling of just having you there. You don't have to be doing anything together necessarily, maybe just sitting at opposite ends of the sofa with your feet in his lap as you both read your books. He does make sure to plan for days where you can just spend time together, like taking the car and finding a new hiking route, but there are some days where he just takes your hand and brings you outside with him, pointing to the porch swing he has covered with pillows and blankets so you're there while he works in the garden. Or when you sit with him as works on the truck, perched beside him on the bench and sometimes asking questions about what he's doing or just talking about your week. This means that whenever he looks up the first thing he sees is you and how can he have a bad day when that much is true?

In terms of gift giving I don't think Frankie thinks much about it but he does do it quite often. Like when he has to stop for petrol on the way home and sees your favourite snack in the shop so he buys some for you. Or when you text him saying you've had a really hard day at work and he comes home with flowers. Or when he sees a poster for your favourite film showing at an old cinema and he gets you both tickets for the weekend. It's not big, show stopping gifts but all the little things. There isn't a day that goes by where you wonder if he thinks about you while you're apart because he'll come home with something that he thought you would like.

Words of affirmation I think is the one that Frankie struggles with the most and there are a few times where he really lets his feelings out: when he first tells you he loves you as you dance about his kitchen, when he proposes at the first hiking trail he took you on, on your wedding night where it is finally just you two alone and he can let all his feelings out, after the baby is born and is asleep in your arms, when he returns from the trip with the guys and spends the whole night whispering into your skin that he will never leave again. He can't make sense of just how strong his love for you is with words alone and that's why he has all the love languages mixed up.

I do think, however, that Frankie needs a lot of words of affirmation; that there are some days where that voice in the back of his mind is louder than usual and he starts to retreat a little bit. What if I'm not good enough for them? What if they wake up one day and suddenly the rose tinted glasses are off and they see how much bad I've done? What if I'm a bad husband? A bad dad? You've been with Frankie long enough, loved him through the highs and lows, to know when this happens. It's like half of his brain is reaching for you, hand moving across the sofa towards yours or head leaning down to kiss you, while the other half is pulling himself away, hesitating from reaching out anymore and stopping his lips from meeting yours and giving a quick kiss to your forehead instead. It's days like these where you quietly take his hand that night and walk him to bed with you, staying silent until you're both under the covers, and then you tell him exactly how you feel. How much you love him. How he's the most loving husband and best dad. How you couldn't live in a world where he wasn't, much less live in one where he wasn't yours. He believes you more and more with each word that you say until he reaches out for you and doesn't stop himself this time, holding you tight against his chest as you both fall asleep.

He wishes he was as good with words as you are but he shouldn't worry about that; he shows how much he loves you with his every touch, every little thing he does for you, every moment he spends with you and every time he shows you that you're always on his mind.

//

@letterfromvienna I hope you like this! I could write about how Frankie loves and needs to be loved for the rest of time!

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[itsbeaconhillsbaby]

octopus hearts || tom holland x reader

a/n: how do my intended blurbs turn out so long! god dammit. this idea popped into my head, so I hope you all like it. as always thank you so much for supporting; liking, reblogging, commenting or messaging me about any of my work. I love interacting with you guys and I plan to try and be more of a presence in general, not just with writing. come chat! hope you’re all well x  word count: 1638 warning: none...I think everything I write is pretty tame summary: it’s about time you and tom extended your little family 

“You do know she’s only young...” “And? What’s your point?” “The point is, you’ve managed to find the biggest toy in this whole place!” Tom turns to you, cradling two sacks of dry food to his chest, muscles straining slightly against his t-shirt. In his free hand was a large fluffy purple octopus - all 8 legs dangling centimetres off the ground. You’re both stood in front of the full aisle of toys, picking out your favourites for your new arrival. “She’ll grow! Plus look at it...she’ll love it.” He holds up the toy until it’s eye level with you, its stitched mouth looking at you almost mockingly. You roll your eyes, smiling at Tom’s pleading face, his bottom lip curling upwards into a pout. “Okay, it is cute. But that’s the last one Tom, we don’t even know if she’ll like them yet.” Tom grinned cheekily, slipping the toy into the growing basket you were holding, planting a sloppy thank you kiss onto your cheek as he did so. You laughed as he fist pumped the air before continuing your way through the aisles. The excitement was building, the whole situation becoming more and more real, as you searched for the necessary items.

//// “No peeking!”

If you could’ve rolled your eyes, you would have. You had been sat in the car for around 15 minutes, with your eyes closed and your hands covering your face.

Tom had finally wrapped his latest film in the US, and you had spent the past three days in-between your classes ‘reuniting’ – neither of you surfacing from your shared bedroom unless you were forced to do so. You had assumed Tom had met up with the boys, gone down to his local or played golf during your class time and were therefore extremely confused as to why he suddenly woke up one morning, bribed you to get dressed and dragged you out of the house, only to beg you to keep your eyes closed as soon as you got into the car.

“I’m not sure I like this surprise Tom, where the hell are we going?”

“We’re almost there, you’re going to love it! I promise.”

You felt the car come to a halt, gravel crunching beneath the tyres.

“Stay here one sec.” You heard Tom’s car door slam shut, and soon enough you felt the cold air as yours opened.

He guided you out of the car, allowing you to use him for balance as you struggled to get your bearings, eyes remaining closed the entire time.

“Okay. You can open them.”

You slowly opened them, blinking confused as you looked at a grey building. you eyed tom from the side, seeing his cheeky grin lighting up his entire face before you turned back to the building. It was then that you noticed the sign.

You were at your local dog rescue shelter.

“Tom…what are we doing here?” You fully turn to face him, eyes widening in both excitement and shock.

“Well we’ve lived together for over a year now and I know we said it wasn’t possible. But with this new film, they’re looking at a franchise and it’s an entirely UK based production, so I’ll be here, and I don’t know – you’re graduating soon, I’ve looked into dog sitters and walkers for during the day. My family can help ou-”

You interrupt him mid-sentence, arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders as you pull him towards you, eyes fluttering closed as you kissed him. Your entire stomach erupted into fluttering butterflies at all the thought behind the surprise, at the idea that Tom was genuinely just as excited about adding to your little family as you were.

You push back suddenly, “This is actually happening right now? You’re not messing me around? Because that would be a mean prank…”

“No,” he grins, laughing. You felt his breath tickle your cheek, “it’s all real. Now c’mon, we’re going to be late for our doggy date.”

He tucks you into his side, arm wrapped around you as you head into the building, your stomach doing somersaults the entire time.

////

Your phone buzzed, lighting up next to your laptop. You were in your university library, researching titles of books you needed for your dissertation when a text from Tom popped up:

eta 10 minutes x

You immediately took note of the last couple books on your list, before closing your laptop and stuffing it into your bag. You grabbed the pile of books you’d already collected into your arms before checking them out at the front desk, heading immediately for the nearest train station.

You made it home in record time.

As you unlocked the front door you could hear the pitter patter of tiny feet on the wooden floor. Placing your bag and books on the entry table, you let your keys fall into the bowl alongside Tom’s.

“Hey baby. In here.”

You peeked around the corner into the living room where Tom was lying stretched out on his side in the centre of the room. Holding his head up with his palm, he held up a soft crinkly toy as your new little ball of golden fluff jumped on her hind legs in her attempts to reach it.

“We’re bonding,” he murmured, lifting his head to look up at you, “come join us.”

The little puppy was all legs and floppy ears as she caught her toy and bounced across the room, tripping over it as she tried to hold it up. She paused as you entered, her head tilting dramatically from left to right, her toy immediately laying discarded as she tumbled towards you.

“Hey puppy! Hi Nala.” You kneel down, letting her sniff you to remind herself of who you were, before she wiggled onto her back, paws in the air as you gave her belly rubs. Her white and golden tail thumping on the wooden floorboards.

“Oh my god Tom, I can’t believe she’s here!” He sits up, grinning from ear to ear. He rolls one of the balls next to him and you both watch as Nala bounces after it, attention immediately grabbed. You shuffle towards him, placing yourself in his lap, “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Did she cope with the journey okay?”

Tom winds his arms around your stomach, “She was a star. She’s great in the car, didn’t even cry.”

You nod as he begins peppering kisses on your collarbone, as you watch your new puppy continue to explore her new home.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to one of the discarded toys, the giant octopus that was taking up a scary amount of room on the floor. You roll your head towards your boyfriend smirking slightly, “I take it she didn’t like it?”

He whines quietly, huffing, “So she might have run away from it, I think it freaked her out…” you laugh, tangling a hand into his hair as you pull him towards you, before you hear a noise that causes you both to dart your heads up in search of the destructive sound.

“Oh, fantastic so she’s hates my choice in toys, and she’s a cockblock,” Tom mutters as you stifle a giggle, immediately hurrying after your little pup.

////

You were laying on the couch, Tom’s chest pressed to your back. Nala had completely passed out, lying half in her crate, and half out of it and you couldn’t take your eyes off of her.

“Well, I think that was relatively successful,” you murmur.

“You would think that, it wasn’t your shoe laces that she chewed up,” Tom murmured from behind you.

You’d both had a tiring day with Nala. Once she got bored of playing with her toys, she immediately decided that running outside with Tom’s shoe and hiding under one of the bushes just out of reach would be far more exciting.

“You can’t get mad at her, look at her little face.” You sigh, officially completely head over heels in love, “I can’t believe someone would just dump her, she’s gorgeous.”

You felt Tom brushing a hand up you side absentmindedly as he nodded, “I know. They think she was bought as a christmas present, and then abandoned a couple weeks later.”

“We’re going to give her so much love. And I can’t wait to introduce her to Tess. You think they’ll be friends?” You grasp the fingers trailing up your arm and bring them closer round you, interlocking yours with his.

“For sure...best of friends.” He says as you snuggle further down against Tom, his arms tightening around you as you both relax against each other.

The pair of you let Nala recharge her batteries, diving into an episode of the latest show you had been watching together when you jump with a small gasp at the startling movement beneath you, as Tom sat himself up.

“Oh my god, look!”

You take a glance at Nala. she’d shifted herself in her sleep so instead of laying on the cushioned dog bed and blankets that were in her crate, she’d shimmied out and lay flat out against the giant octopus. Paws tangled with the soft legs of the toy as her head rested on its fluffy body, her pink tongue lolling to one side.

“Yes!” Tom cheered, Nala’s eyes immediately opening from the noise, “I knew she’d love it! Watch this space, Oscar the octopus is going to be her favourite.” He jumped off the couch and hunkered down next to her.

“Wait…do not tell me you named it?”

You took in the man in front of you, lying on his front playing with the pads of Nala’s paws and felt your cheeks begin to ache slightly from the smile on your face.

“Who’s clever! Yes Nala, clever girl.”

You took in your dorky little family, sliding off the couch to join them. The perfect little family of three. 

[riley-phoenix]

Pairing: Malia X Reader (gender not specified)... Eventually

Canon: Supernatural: Season 8 / Teen Wolf: Season 1

Content: Violence, blood

Author's Note: -

Chapter Summary: After narrowly escaping a new threat in the form of hunters, the final battle against Peter dawns closer.

Chapter 10: Alpha Mode

You drove out of the scene, narrowly escaping the werewolf hunters and pulling into a curve on the side of the parking lot that leads directly to the lacrosse field, speeding urgently to meet your friends who had seperated from you minutes earlier. You hit the brakes with urgency, the car's tyres dragging against the grass and creating a line of smoke. As you bring the vehicle to a sudden stop, Scott, who was on the roof comes sliding off, doing a forward roll as he lands on the ground and gets on his feet. You and Jackson, who were still pumping with adrenaline from the last-minute rescue, stepped out of the car panting. You took a moment to collect yourself before observing the scene, Peter and Stiles were gone, and Malia was lying over an unconscious Lydia; blood stains on several places on her body. "How is she?", You asked In a concerned, grim tone as you stepped forward.

Malia looked up with a full expression, "She'll live; but she needs to get a to a hospital, now".

Scott sighs, "Where's Stiles?", He asks.

"And what happened to Peter?", You add.

"Peter was trying to find Derek... After he attacked Lydia he took Stiles to help find him".

"Derek's in the hospital, I left him there", you say.

"Well, someone checked him out", Malia responds

"Who would check Derek out?", You ask.

Scott takes a second to think, and soon his eyes grow to the size of saucers, "Kate".

"...Argent?", Malia asks.

"She shot him before, maybe she's trying to finish the job", Scott answers.

You sigh again, holding the bridge of your nose, "Okay. We find Derek, we find Peter, we find Stiles".

You're about to discuss the next phase of your plan when Jackson, who's been standing in silence in the background this entire time steps forward, "McCall--"

Angrily, you cut him off, "Jackson I swear if you ask for the bite one more time".

"I. Need. It.", He says through gritted teeth.

You take a deep, calming breath. "Whittemore... I told you before, you don't wanna get involved in this". You were speaking from experience, from years of regret that you were born into the world of the supernatural and never had the choice to leave it, and were full of anger that someone who had that choice wasn't taking it. "Because this... This is what happens when you get involved with the supernatural", you point to a bloody, unconscious, Lydia lying on the floor. "Whittemore... I know you said you guys broke up, and maybe that means you don't care; but when a wereowolf cuts into you that deep, you either turn, OR YOU DIE!, We need to find Stiles... And she needs a hospital... Please", you plead with Jackson, and looking into his uncertain eyes, you sense you reached a part of him that you haven't seen before. "Okay", he says coldly, "But I'm not done, and this isn't over", he says as he eyes Scott, and without another word he picks Lydia up and carries her away, leaving the three of you alone on the field. "What do we do now?", Scott asks. "Now... We find Derek ".

You lead Scott and Malia through the woods to a place called 'The Lookout Point'. It was a large, cliff-like area that was located far above the town. From the very edge of the stony peak, you could see the entire town in all it's beauty. "Why are we here?", Scott asked. You delayed your response for a few seconds while you observed the town below, "A werewolf howls to let it's pack know it's near... This is the only place that you could howl from where the entire town would hear you", you said, still squinting your eyes as you observed the blinding lights of buildings and cars. "You really think this is gonna work?", Malia asked coyly. "You have a better idea to find Derek?", You asked in response. Reluctantly, Malia approached the ledge, soon followed by a hesitant Scott. They both got on one knee and placed their hands on the ground, tilting their heads up towards the moon.

"AAAARRRROOOOO", Malia howled.

"RRAAARRRRGGGG", Scott barked at the moon, slightly more aggressively than his werecoyote counterpart.

The three of you looked eagerly into the distance, anticipating a response but hearing nothing. "Again", you commanded.

"AAAARRRROOOOO"

"RRAAARRRRGGGG"

Once again you waited impatiently and anticipated a howl in response but only silence loomed. "Well, that was a bust", Scott said with his chin touching his chest, disappointed at the result. The three of you began to walk away, but just before you entered the woods, you heard the faintest of sounds ring desperately through the air.

"RRAAARRRRGGGG"

"What was that?", Malia asked, whipping her head backwards. "Derek", you said, with a hint of disbelief. "Focus on it, focus on the sound!", You added, enthusiastically. Scott and Malia closed their eyes as the roar echoed through the town once again, this time louder.

"RRAAARRRRGGGG"

They both twitched their eyes and physically struggled as they tried to track Derek's location through the echoes of his roar, "It's... It's...", Scott said, struggling. "It's the Hale house", Malia interrupted. As they opened their eyes, breaking the bond, they both fell back and clutched thier heads from the effort. Malia had the slightest trickle sweat sliding down her forehead, you wiped it off and were rewarded with a small, yet unforgettable smile. While Malia helped Scott to his feet, you pulled out your cellphone and held it to your ear. "Who are you calling?", Scott asked. "Backup", you answered cryptically.

Not long after you arrived at the Hale house, watching closely for any sign of ambush or attack under the unclear foliage of the night forest, illuminated by the dull moonlight. "You two stay here", Scott whispered. "What? No!, We'll all go", you responded, also in a hushed tone. "He's right, *your name*, if we all go we'll draw more attention", Malia intervened. With slight hesitation, you nodded your head up and down, and subsequently watched Scott disappear into a semi-hidden passage, leading underneath the ominous house. You and Malia leaned back against the collapsed tree trunk you were hiding behind. This was your first time getting a good look at the Hale house, the famous house that had been burned down by hunters, initiating the rumours surrounding Derek that got him labelled as a serial killer. In certain places you could notice that walls and ceilings had been scorched as they were close to falling apart. You stared at the house for a little while longer before you heard Malia sniffle, "Hey; you okay?", You asked, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Yeah... Fine", she said, wiping tears away with her palms. "You know you can tell me if something's bothering you". Malia was hesitant, until you spoke again. "If you're gonna insist on protecting me when we're in danger, atleast let me protect you when we're out of it". She let out a light chuckle. "I'm thinking about my mother and sister", she said bluntly, evidently struggling to push the words out. "Oh, Malia... You shouldn't--", she cuts you off, "Yes, I should. I should think about it. They were people, *your name*, people that I killed". You covered her hand in yours, reassuring her of her humanity. "It wasn't your fault. There was a full moon... You were a child, you didn't even know you were a shapeshifter, let alone how to control it". You tried your best to comfort her but she turned the other cheek and let the tears flow out, "even after I turned... It caused the car to crash, but even after the accident... I don't think they were dead just yet. I... I... I mauled them, *your name*, what kind of monster mauls it's own family", Malia continued to cry and you knew what you had to do to stop her. "Look at me", you said. She didn't respond. "Malia, look at me", You gently reached out to her cheek, and turned her head to face you, feeling the wetness of her face as her tears rolled down your fingers, "You're not a monster... You're a shapeshifter, like--", you cut yourself off. You were about to say 'Like Me', but subsequently remembered you were keeping your supernatural identity a secret in a failing effort to live a normal teenage life. "You're a shapeshifter", you said again, boldly this time. Malia once again wiped the tears from her face. "Thanks, but... No matter what I tell myself; it won't bring my mom back. It won't bring my sister back. My dad is barely talking to me... And I have no idea who my biological parents are or why they didn't want me... I don't care that they were my adoptive family, they chose to take me in and they paid for it... But for some reason I'm still alive; and now I have no family". There were a billion things racing through your mind after Malia's heartbreaking soliloquy, yet somehow, you knew exactly which one to say. "A wise man once told me, 'Family doesn't end in blood, but it doesn't start there either. Just 'cause your blood doesn't make you family; and just 'cause you're not... Doesn't mean you aren't'", you spoke with eloquence as you quoted something Dean had told you when you were a child, although you weren't entirely certain what it meant back then. Malia sniffled again, and returned your comforting words with a smile.

You heard a rustling sound coming from the underground entrance of the house as Scott and a limping Derek ambled their way out, Derek looking angrier than ever. You sensed the feeling of something dangerous soaring through the air, "GUYS, WATCH OUT!", You screamed, and just in time Scott and Derek ducked out of the way of an arrow. The arrow flew past them and crashed into a tree further back. They looked up to a higher part of the ground to see Allison, standing with a crossbow in her hand and her aunt, Kate, with her hand on her shoulder. "Allison, Stop!", Scott screamed out, but she didn't listen, Allison loaded another arrow into her crossbow causing everyone to take cover. Then, everyone turned their attention to the door of the house. It was left ajar and there was a loud, ominous sound coming from inside. The Alpha leaped out, landing on all fours and snarled at Kate, baring it's fangs and claws. "Allison watch out!", A voice called out. Chris Argent revealed himself, appearing from the depths of the forest and fired his pistol at the beast. The shot landed on it's shoulder, barely scratching the Alpha and earning only a hint of a wince. The beast screamed out in anger, and charged at Allison and Kate, pulling Kate down the small hill by it's claw. Kate screamed in fear, and everyone else rushed from their hiding places to the centre of the fight. Noticing you, Malia, Scott and Derek coming forward, the Alpha ducked into the shadows. You all stood in a circle, anticipating an attack from the Alpha, but instead, it swiftly moved around the group and took down person by person. First Chris, then Allison. As they hit the floor, the rest of you became more and more alert and ready to attack. Then it took down You, followed by Scott, then Malia and finally Derek. Kate was the only one left standing, and fear fell on her face as the she realised The Alpha was hunting her like prey. It appeared behind her, but not in it's animal form, it was Peter. Peter grabbed her by her arm and, with an effortless swing, threw her into the air and watched as she landed on the porch infront of the house. Staring her down, Peter dragged her inside and Allison who had just lifted herself to her feet ran inside after them. As you regained consciousness, you helped the others to thier feet, and, upon noticing Allison was gone, you heard her scream in despair and agony inside the house.

Kate was dead.

Scott, bearing his werewolf claws and fangs, ran inside the house, and seconds later, The Alpha came rushing out, once again in it's animal form. You noticed Scott and Allison follow it outside, Allison readying her crossbow again, before a pair of blinding lights grew closer to you. A Porsche pulled up next to the house, and out came Stiles and Jackson, both holding glass viles, presumably from the science lab, containing some unknown concoction. Stiles threw his at The Alpha but it just caught it in it's hand. Then another car pulled up infront of the house, "Who's that?", Scott asked. "Backup", you answered. Sam, Dean and Cas exited the car and Dean fired a shot from his pistol, shooting the vile in The Alpha's hand. It exploded, setting the beast's arm on fire and causing it to stumble. Then Jackson threw his, and when it was close enough, Sam shot it, allowing it to explode on The Alpha, causing it more pain. The Alpha struggled to hold itself and eventually, fell to the ground, turning into it's human form on the way down. Cas threw you a vile, it was the werewolf cure for Scott. The only thing missing was the living blood of the sire. With the vile in your hand, you approached the injured Peter with caution, but just as you reached out to take some of his blood, Derek appeared on the other side of him. Shocking you, causing you to fall back. Derek stared at Peter and you looked on in confusion. Then he lifted his hand, and out came his claws. "NO, DEREK DON'T!", You screamed out... But it was too late. With a swift swing of his hand, Derek slashed Peter's throat, killing him instantly.

Derek felt a surge of power overcome him, his werewolf eyes that used to be a light, pale blue in colour, were now a deadly, blood red. He looked up towards the moon and roared in victory. It was over. The Alpha was dead, There was no cure for Scott, and Derek had taken Peter's alpha powers.

One week later...

Stiles entered the hospital in a panic to check on Lydia, "How is she!?", He aksed with desperation. The doctor peaked at Lydia's patient file. "She picked up some pretty rough bruises, but she's going to be okay". Stiles sighed in relief and peeked at her through the glass of her room.

Meanwhile, you were on the phone with Scott, reflecting on what had happened, "I'm sorry Scott, I really am".

"Don't be... It's my fault. To get Derek to help us I told him about how Peter was lying when he said he didn't know what he was doing when he killed Laura. If It wasn't for that, maybe thinks would've ended differently".

"You sure you're gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Talk to you later".

Scott hung up the phone. He was standing on all fours on Allison's roof, waiting for her. She snuck out of her bedroom window and without hesitation, grabbed his face to kiss him. He helped her out and the two of them laid in each other's arms for the rest of the night, watching the stars. They'd finally made up.

You put the phone down, held the bridge of your nose and stretched your back as Malia walked into your house. "Hey", she said, offering a weak smile. "Hey", you said, returning it. "I just wanted to see how you were doing after... Everything", she said sympathetically. "I'm actually doing okay... What about you?", You asked. She chuckled, "Better than expected", she said. Malia was hesitant on her next question, "I was just wondering... After everything that's happened; do you still want to stay in Beacon Hills? It'd be sad not to see you around here anymore, but if you wanted to leave... I'd understand why". In truth, you wanted nothing more than to leave this town. You came here for a fresh start, a normal teenage life, a life away from the supernatural and you got anything but. However the friends you made, the danger they were in and most importantly; Malia, and everything about her, were all keeping you rooted to the spot. You knew deep in your heart that you'd be here for a long, long time. "Yeah... I think I'll stay".

Meanwhile at the Hale house, Jackson had returned to the property looking for Derek, "What do you want?", Derek aksed, appearing behind him. "The bite... I want the bite", Jackson said with a hint of nervousness. Derek said nothing, but his eyes began to change. They changed from his regular, human eyes to his blood red, werewolf eyes, as his fangs emerged from the sides of his mouth. Derek grabbed Jackson's arm and, with a sadistic smile on his face, sunk his teeth into it.

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Tags: @just-ilde @loveinfinitelyandforever @socially-awkward-eliza @melthedwarf @akuri-shinsou @maliahalefandom @w00w33 @natashapoling @scilessweetheart @supernaturalgirl02 @cactuwus @babypink224221 @7thavenger @wonder-kid-pugh @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

[fumingspice]

Seven Wonders

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x Reader

Words: 1.7k

Note: Part 1/5

Part | 1 2

And in her eyes you could see the beauty of all the Seven Wonders

It all started with a moving truck that disrupted your music session one night. Until then it had been perfect; soft rain pelted quietly against the windowpane, influencing the way that you tapped your pen against the paper-pad in front of you that was begging to be written on. You could hear the music in everything. Cars drove along the roads nearby your apartment block despite the late hour, the wind and the sound of the tyres on the wet tarmac put your soul at ease. It was amazing.

Your creative juices flowed perfectly at this time of the night as you wrote the first few words in the final verse of your new song; the best part in your opinion- when the song came together with its final message. Perfection. Until an unnecessary-to-your-existence truck honked its horn outside your apartment. The invasive noise startled you so that the pen drew a huge line across the page.

You exhaled hard to stop yourself banging your head on the table.

You ignored the horn, assuming the driver was waiting on someone coming out. Then it went again. Your eyes darted to the alarm clock that resided between your cacti (which you had given names). The little box that read 3am sat closest to Bentlee the Bunny Ears Cactus. 3am? Who in their right mind would be making so much noise outside an apartment block at this time of night? Another honk rang in your ears and you couldn't control the urge to open your window and peer outside any longer.

A woman stood in the car park close to a G-Wagon that you hadn't seen before, assuming that was her own car. She held her suitcase in one hand and held a newspaper over her head to shield her hair from the rain, reminding you of the scene in Rocky Horror Picture Show when Janet did the same thing.

The movie comparison eased your mood so that you wouldn't be yelling the foulest obscenities at her. Not tonight at least.

"Excuse me, miss! It's really late, is there a need for the noise?" you shouted down, attempting not to contribute to the noise. The lady looked up, relieved to know she had caught someone's attention.

"I'm so sorry!" she shouted, waving at you. "Would you be able to let me in, please?"

Ah, yes, you thought. The door had often proved a nuisance to newcomers as you had to either have someone buzz you in from the other side of the door, or have your own key. You signalled a yes to her and walked quickly down the corridors and staircases, skipping two at the time the way you did when you were younger when your mother threatened to break your neck if you didn't do it yourself when you walked like this.

"Thank you so much," she ushered when she got in, smacking the rainwater off her newspaper which was now completely sodden. "I asked the moving guy to come back tomorrow because I didn't realise how much noise we would have to make. I'm so sorry for waking you, Ms-," she stuck her hand out to shake yours, which you kindly obliged to. Her hands were freezing, wet from the rain but so soft under yours.

"Y/N," you tell her, she grins.

"Y/N," she repeats, biting her tongue between her teeth as if tasting each syllable of your name as she examined the details of your face.

"Don't worry, I was up working anyway. Uhm- sorry. Your name is?"

The lady nodded, her golden locks bobbing around her shoulders. "Howard," she said "Billie-Dean Howard." You smiled back at Billie. Her lips followed the movements of your own.

"Do I know your name from somewhere, Ms. Howard?" you ask.

"Call me Billie, sweetheart. And yes, I have a TV show back in the States- I'm a medium to the stars. It hasn't really caught on in the UK or Ireland yet but I'm doing a new series on Celtic spirits, myths and legends so I'm hoping that-" she looked you up and down, her dark brown eyes met yours, lowered and stopped, then darted to your still connected hands, "- I can provoke your interests." She uttered the last three words with a seemingly different meaning as you took your hand back. Being a medium- or a psychic or whatever she was she could probably sense your slight discomfort, so she changed the subject quickly.

"Would you be able to tell me where someone called Siobhan is?" she asked, completely butchering the correcting pronunciation of the name.

"I'm sorry, Siobhan's office hours closed about six hours ago and she doesn't open up again until ten o'clock, so," you pursed your lips, unsure of what to do. You couldn't leave her here for the next seven hours, that was something- but you also didn't know or trust her. You attempted to reason yourself for the next few seconds. It wasn't like a goddamn TV personality was gonna try and steal your Ikea silverware anyway, not unless she was also a secret spoon thief.

Billie looked like she was about to give up hope and lie down on the grate to sleep when you offered her night in your apartment. "Wait, really?" she asked, her big brown eyes lit up like two golden compasses. "You're not afraid I would steal your silverware?" Her chuckle came out like a fine four-note melody. You rolled your eyes playfully and shook your head.

As the pair of you walked to the elevator you chatted quietly, asking her questions about her show, what she would be doing and where she would be shooting. "I heard about a place on a peninsula not far out from here- supposed to be one of the most haunted places in Europe and it hasn't really been a spot of interest for other American mediums so I thought that maybe I should check it out." You got more of the specifics in the elevator, where she told you that she would be staying here for three months before moving on to mainland Britain. "After that," she said, "I'm gonna head on into Europe and I'll see where the wind takes me from there. I've never filmed in Asia so that's where I'll go next, maybe." Billie's words invented images of brilliance in your mind, exotic destinations, you could almost feel the warmth of the sun against your skin.

"That sounds amazing," you tell her as you glide the key into the keyhole and turn it with a flick of your wrist, Billie watching your every move. The smell of coffee and incense collided with your nose and replaced the stale smell of the apartment corridor as you stepped into your dark apartment and out of the bright corridor lights. "Wow," Billie uttered to herself, she wondered in behind you and observed the apartment carefully; taking note of the scents and the decorations. "You really like plants that you don't don't need to water." You chuckled at the comment.

"You wouldn't need to be a psychic to figure that out, Billie-Dean," you chuckled, shifting the angle of Fanta the mammillaria.

She observed you with a light smile, "they're personal to you. You've named them, haven't you?"

You turn around and nod, slightly embarrassed. Billie chuckled her adorable chuckle. "Why don't you introduce me?" she suggested.

"Well, this is Fanta, this is her brother Neptune and I bought them in Next. This is Bentlee, Tesla, Mitshubishi, Vauxwagon, Martha and Veronica. Those guys over there are all named Deborah but they have a number after their names to tell them apart- and the vines are called Mocha," you explained, blissfully unaware in the moment of how insane you probably sounded in front of the woman.

She nodded with wonder in her eyes. "Amazing."

After a few moments of silence whilst she continued to observe, you pulled out the couch and made a quick bed up for yourself; you were going to be up a while longer anyway so you would allow her to sleep in your own bed. After all, it was she who had just travelled god knows how many hours to get here.

"You're a musician?" you heard her ask from the living room while you tidied away some of your things to make it a little less messy for you.

"Jesus, you are a good medium," you admitted, walking in with your favourite pillow and dropping it on the couch. "I have to admit I was a little sceptical at first but you seem pretty-" you stopped talking when you saw her face in the softer light. The shadows illuminated her jawline and cheekbones, defining them as if someone had drawn over them to make them appear more prominent, and she stood in the reflection of the lamp so that a strip fell over her eyes, turning them a brilliant golden copper. The image of her took your breath away, it was an unusual feeling for someone to appear so utterly ethereal to you that it almost made you stop breathing for a moment. Her grin and raised eyebrow snapped you out of it. "-pretty. Uhm, pretty intuitive."

Billie didn't stop smiling, she clearly knew you were astounded by her without intending to be. "You have three bass guitars on the wall and Fleetwood Mac vinyls everywhere, I'd be concerned if a regular person could come in and not tell," she said, her cheeks blushed slightly at the attention, stretching when she yawned.

"My bedroom's in there, I'm not done working just yet and you should get some rest." you pointed to your door which you had left slightly ajar and she smiled at you thankfully. You moved out of her way so she could walk to your room, however, she stopped when she was just inches from you.

"Y/N," the touch of her fingertips grazing your forearm tingled. "Let me take you out to breakfast, or lunch or drinks tomorrow, hm? A room for a meal?" she suggested. Her eyes twinkled in a way that you had never seen before when you nodded carefully, finding it hard to refuse the offer. When she was satisfied, she shook your hand goodnight, whispered a thank you and slipped into her room for the night.

And boy did you know your search history would be full of her for the next hour.

[ravireyes]

BASIC INFORMATION.

Full name:  ravi reyes Nickname:  vi, vivi !!! Birthdate:  february 14th, 1992 Age:  28 Zodiac:  aquarius sun, cancer moon, scorpio rising Gender:  nonbinary Pronouns:  he/him/his Romantic orientation:  biromantic Sexual orientation:  bisexual Nationality:  english Ethnicity:  east indian, english Ranking:  virtue Affiliation:  famine

BACKGROUND.

Birthplace:  London, UK Hometown:  London, UK Social Class:  born middle class, currently too rich to even be a class, probably Educational achievements:  a fancy degree in business in a fancy school Father:  dhaval barot Mother:  elizabeth barot Sibling(s):  none Pets:  his pride and joy uriel, the meter-long argentine tegu that he got as a gift Previous relationships:  carman, briefly in college. one particularly serious relationship with [redacted]. countless meaningless flings and one-night-stands before marcus Arrests:  resisting arrest (while drunk) once but it was totally a misunderstanding. three times for sleeping rough, as a minor living on the streets after getting kicked out. has successfully managed to annoy/charm everyone in the station until charges were dropped every time Prison time:  none

OCCUPATION & INCOME.

Current occupation:  virtue at famine / lifestyle influencer / event planner Dream occupation:  living the dream, honestly Past job(s):  anything that paid, from 16 to 23. most notorious have been: attendant at every single chain of fast-food restaurant (he collected them), server at a five-star restaurant in which he made mad tips by flirting with rich old people, a failed attempt at a strip club that lasted one week, 100 bucks made by stick-and-poking at a party once, and selling common household items as if they were precious relics to antique shops Spending habits:  notorious. he likes being pampered, by himself or others. and he loves fashion too much to simply not buy the latest versace collection. also known to buy a lot of great presents In debt?:  no. paid off his uni debt when he married, babey

SKILLS & ABILITIES.

Physical strength: below average / average / above average Speed: below average / average / above average Intelligence: below average / average / above average Accuracy: below average / average / above average Agility: below average / average / above average Stamina: below average / average / above average Teamwork:  it depends. if he has to crawl his way to the top, he's probably an absolute angel about it, will suck up to anyone he has to suck up to. gets the job done. nowadays that he's sitting on top, he's a nuisance, but he still does his part Talents:  adaptable, sociable, overactive imagination, can tie a cherry stem with his tongue Shortcomings:  spoiled nowadays, jealous, easy to anger, can't parallel park to save his life Languages spoken:  english, has hindi as a second language but doesn't speak it anymore, enough spanish to call himself fluent even though he might mess up everything's pronouns Drive?:  yes (debatable) Jump-start a car?:  no Change a flat tyre?:  no Ride a bicycle?:  yes Swim?:  yes Play an instrument?:  dabbled in guitar as a kid, so he knows the basics Play chess?:  yes, terribly Braid hair?:  yes Tie a tie?:  yes, but does he ask marcus to do it every time? also yes. Pick a lock?:  no Cook?:  yes, but he refuses to. still makes a mean grilled cheese, though.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE AND CHARACTERISTICS.

Faceclaim:  avan jogia Eye colour:  dark brown Hair colour:  black Hair type:  wavy Glasses/contacts?:  no Dominant hand:  right Height:  5'9ft / 1,80m Build:  lean by nature and somewhat toned from doing yoga religiously and training with leon, but not muscular Exercise habits:  yoga every morning and training with leon, not much otherwise Tattoos:  too many to name them all, has his arms covered in various designs, most of his legs, some of his torso; harry styles-esque, not any full sleeves, just a bunch of random small drawings. his favorites are the ones he convinced marcus to stick-and-poke into him: a sun on his arm, a moon on his wrist, and a little peach on his butt! also has a tiny black heart on the side of his finger where his wedding ring sits. plus, any femfam member who wants to have matching tattoos or have stick-and-poked something into him, he would love that, leave your hcs in the notes below Piercings:  both ears pierced. used to have both nipples pierced, got bored of the look eventually and took them out a couple of years ago. got an eyebrow piercing once when he was 18 and that lasted a year Marks/scars:  a brand new scar over his eyebrow now, thank you liam. a handful of other random scars spread over his body, from his reckless youth, and the years as an Angel Clothing style:  chaotic. a lot of expensive brands, more is more, tacky chic. willing to pull more muted looks if he has to. his closet probably has everything from lingerie to full-tailored suits, has a fair amount of skirts and dresses, also partial to a good jumpsuit. so much colour. he'll pull a super masculine look if he can pair it with flashy earrings Jewellery:  more! is! more! always wearing multiple necklaces, bracelets, occasional earrings, usually a bunch of rings on his right hand. his left hand always has only his set of wedding band plus engagement ring. Allergies:  none Diet:  omnivore

PSYCHOLOGY.

MBTI type:  esfp - the entertainer Enneagram type:  seven - the enthusiast Moral Alignment:  chaotic neutral Temperament:  sanguine Element:  fire Emotional stability:  pretty stable nowadays. he's volatile to an extent, always prone to feeling angry or sad at the smallest of things said to him, and lord knows he has a long list of triggers to make that happen, but at the end of the day, he's stable. Introvert or Extrovert?:  extrovert Obsession:  being the hottest person at the grocery store Phobias:  none Drug use:  occasionally weed for recreational use, as a treat Alcohol use:  usually drinks very lightly at big social events, and stays dead sober if he's working, because he is prone to getting Too Drunk otherwise. he's a fun drunk, but the hangover is not worth it. occasionally will let himself get wasted to celebrate something (last time was at his wedding), if he knows marcus is willing to help him get to bed at the end of the night Prone to violence?:  no Prone to crying?:  no Believe in love at first sight?:  yeah and it's probably all he talks about

MANNERISMS.

Accent:  cockney?? turned posh maybe??  Hobbies:  caring for uriel, shopping, crafting hilarious tiktoks Habits:  yoga, being an early riser, walking around the flat naked (not anymore, now that wren is staying over, rip) Nervous ticks:  wrinkling his nose up, putting his hand through his hair, checking his phone Drives/motivations:  making marcus and the rest of the family proud, always Fears:  losing marcus, being alone again Sense of humour?:  sarcasm and chaotic meaningless gen z type of humour, spends too much time on the internet Do they curse often?:  just a fair amount. doesn't bring out the fucks mid-sentence unless he's mad, but occasionally drops the infamous c word like it's nothing

FAVOURITES.

Animal:  argentine tegu since he got one Beverage:  coffee Book:  the malady of death by marguerite duras Colour:  deep red Food:  grilled cheese Flower:  peonies Mode of transportation:  private jet Scent:  marcus and his st. rose's vigilante  Sport:  tennis (for watching. for participating, it's none) Weather:  short shorts weather Vacation destination:  paris ranks pretty damn high after his first paris fashion week in 2018, though anywhere in mexico is also a favourite, for how excited marcus looks when they're there

ATTITUDES.

Greatest dream:  just vibing like this until he dies, honestly, he is living the dream Greatest fear:  finding out that he is, after all, unloveable Most at ease when:  alone with marcus Least as ease when:  talking to people who don't respect him, having to prove himself Biggest achievement:  feeling like he's really a part of the femenias-reyes bunch Biggest regret:  giving his parents the time of day when they reached out a couple of years ago, and thinking they had changed

[pi-cat000]

MSA: Gunpoint AU (part 5)

(continuation of a fic started during the Whumptober2019 challenge)

(PART 1) (PART 2) (PART 3)  (PART 4)

.

Summary: Arthur gets in trouble while on a case with Vivi (set before Ghost). 

.

This time, the dark of unconsciousness isn’t quite so all-encompassing. His mind floats about as sound and stimulus come in and out like waves. In his dazed state, he struggles to focus on the conversation which drifts over and around him.

“What’s got you all mopey?"  The sharp voice, perpetually amused, pieces the haze over Arthur’s mind. "You’re about to finish your unfinished business. That’s like, end-game stuff for you wraiths.”

He is suddenly very aware of the dirt pressing against his cheek and the uncomfortable strain on his back. Oh right, he has been kidnapped by a psychopath in what was probably the worst case of mistaken identity in the history of ever. Everything hurts, from the new burn on his chest to his growing headache. He misses the unawareness of being unconscious already.

“…soon you’ll be free to hop on off to the afterlife or wherever it is you people go. Last I checked, that’s a good thing.”

The is a long pause and Arthur strains to hear the next sentence. He doesn’t dare open his eyes. The less attention focused on him the better. He pulls subtly at his wrists but they’re still cuffed together. If only his mechanical arm had a quick-release lever, then he’d be able to detach it and get his hands free that way.

“He was terrified.”  

Even when he’s barley lucid, hearing and knowing that the angry spirit is nearby causes his heart to race. Arthur fights his instinct to try and crawl as fast and as far away as possible.

“Uh…Duh. That was your goal. To scare the shit out of him then kill him? What did you think would happen?”

“If he doesn’t remember then what’s the point.”

“Haha…” The laugh is unpleasant, “I wouldn’t worry so much my anger prone friend.”

There is a low ominous rumble and the more threatening sounds of fire crackling. “DON’T call me that. I don’t have friends. Not anymore.”

Another laugh.  “Sure, whatever, acquaintances then….”  Arthur hears the sound of footsteps draw near to his head and he tries to relax and maintain the illusion of unconsciousness.  “You’re just getting caught up on the semantics.… He’s still the same guy. He’s just a guy who not only killed you but didn’t even have the guts to remember it.”

He’s dead, Arthur thinks dully. The green-eyed looney is going to get him killed and he can’t do a thing about it. He’s got this wraith creature convinced that Arthur was involved in its murder. It’s a lie. He hadn’t killed anyone…He would remember something like that…right?

“All this time you’ve been out here, alone and in pain, and he’s been living it up, not even a shred of guilt.  Doesn’t that just piss you off?” 

The footsteps stop right next to his ear. Arthur jerks to the sensation of cold water getting splashed over his face. He sputters as the water runs up his nose, recoiling so he bumps into the car’s tyres.  The sudden movement reminds him of the growing collection of bruises and painful grazes running down his back. When the water stops, he cracks an eye to squint up at his crazy kidnaper, who was now crouched in front of him holding a plastic bottle and waving a greeting.

“Congratulations. You’re not dead.”  

Arthur coughs to clear his lungs of water. Quickly, his eyes dart around, searching out the ominous silhouette of the wraith floating several feet behind the crazy man. The ghost-monster is glaring at him, eyes narrowed with undisguised anger.

The man moves to block Arthur’s vision. “Not dead yet…we'll put a pin in that moral dilemma for the moment.”

Up this close, Arthur can see the laughter threatening to split the twisted man’s face. The freak was enjoying everything way too much for anything to be accidental.  A hand roughly grips his shoulder, hauling him upright so he is leaning with his back against one of the car’s tyres. Even the small change in posture has his head swimming. A result of one too many hits to the skull. The crazy man examines the burn on his chest, prodding at it.   “This looks painful.”  Arthur winces, trying to lean away.

“You really don’t remember?” The question is growled at him, interrupting crazy man.

Arthur swallows, squinting upwards. The fire wraith has moved closer, drifting to loom over the two of them. He can already feel the air heating around him.

“I…No…” His mouth suddenly goes dry. What can he say to convince this creature that he’s innocent? “I don’t …”

SLAM. The wraith slams a fist into the hood of the car which buckles under its strength. Fire spreads across its arm, leaping into the air. Okay. Not the response the wraith was looking for. Arthur clamps his mouth shut and hunches down so he’s less of a target. The crazy man sniggers, standing and forcing the wraith backwards, making an exaggerated calming motion.

“Hey! I’ve got an idea. After you finish helping me sort out my side of the bargain like you promised, I’ll see what I can do about his memory loss free of charge. I may or may not have a few additional tricks up my sleeve.”

“What do you think?”

The wraith maintains its glare, moving its focus off Arthur for a moment. While the two appear to be working together it’s obviously not out of friendship.  Arthur takes their laps in attention as a chance to pull at the cuffs again, testing both his wrists and ankles with more urgency.  Twisting his neck, he subtly eyes the trees and foliage around the clearing. His best chance would be to follow the road back the way they’d come in. Maybe, he could break his metal wrist and slip out of the cuffs securing his hands.  Unfortunately, that’s not a strategy he can use on his ankles.

“Fine…” The wraith finally snaps, its angry tone drawing Arthur’s attention back to the conversation.  “But if you hurt Vivi…” The threat is left open.

Arthur freezes and his stomach flips uncomfortably. How did this wraith know Vivi?

“Relax. I’m not going to hurt your girlfriend. Cross my heart and hope to die.  All I want is the dog.”

Girlfriend? Vivi hadn’t been in a relationship since…since…No. Arthur shakes his head not liking where that logical train of thought is taking him. If these kidnappers knew about him then they definitely knew about Vivi as well. This had to be part of the set up somehow. It was designed to mess with him. But, if that’s the case, then why does something feel wrong. There is something off about all of this beyond his kidnapping that Arthur’ is just not getting…Why is just thinking so hard all of a sudden?

The ghost wavers, still angry but apparently content for the time being. Now it is deliberately not looking at Arthur, turning to drift away. Instead, two of those small pink spirit blobs appear and proceed to glare at him in the wraith’s place.

Arthur wishes he could massage his head because it feels like his brain is on fire.  

. 

Note: A random whumptober continuation. also going to be crossposting this on ao3

[we-kpoppin]

Memories of you - Chapter 1: Stormy night

Monsta X Fanfic - Shownu x Gender Neutral Character

Word Count: 1730

Genre: Mafia AU,

Warnings: Blood, Car Crash, Injuries, Head injuries, Death.

Masterlist | Next

Upon arriving home Ansoo was thrilled to find a new letter in the mailbox from their friend. The sky had been grey and gloomy, just like the day thus far and it was just the pick me up they needed. By the time they’d finished with their homework, chores and eaten dinner the weather had worsened exponentially. The rain was heavy, sounding like pellets on the window, in the distance you could see the storm clouds making their way over, yet Ansoo didn’t mind. To them it was soothing background noise, often finding solace in moments like these, especially in the late night when they struggled to fall asleep.

Ansoo collected the stationery and postal stamps onto their desk before sitting down and reading the newest letter. Their heart swelled, making them feel all warm and fuzzy, a smile gracing the soft round features of Ansoo’s face upon seeing the messy handwritten words on the paper.

Sudden rummaging in the room next door caught Ansoo’s attention, curious as to what it was they made their way into the direction of the noise. As they neared the source Ansoo was able to make out hushed tones of their fathers voice, sneaking closer to see him hurriedly looking through files. The muffled words coming through the mobile’s speaker were unintelligible to Ansoo, but whatever was said made their father’s eyebrows furrow together and his hold on the phone to tighten, causing his knuckles to whiten.

Feeling unnerved, Ansoo quietly made their way back to their room, settling down to write a response in attempt to ignore whatever was clearly causing their normally stoic father distress. After the envelope was prepared they stared out the window as they tried to conjure up the words to write a response, a low rumbling making Ansoo take notice that the storm clouds were now overhead.

Finally thinking of what to say Ansoo starts detailing their current emotions, explaining the events that have occurred since the last time they sent a letter. Suddenly their dad is in their room, roughly handing them a bag telling them to pack their things, all whilst still speaking to the person on the other side of the phone. Even though his voice is now clear Ansoo still can’t get a grasp on the situation as half the words being used are unfamiliar to them.

“Ansoo, stop just siting there, we need to leave in 5 minutes get your things”

“O-okay”, They gather their stationery, a picture frame and small piggy bank shoving into the bag, shouting after their dad “What’s going on? Where are we going?”

No Answer. Ansoo grabbed a jacket, quickly putting it on before collecting their favourite teddy. Making their way out the room, they bump into Minsoo.

“Why are we leaving?” Minsoo pondered aloud, a look of worry washing over her face, Ansoo could only shrug in return mirroring their younger sister’s expression. Their father joined them with 2 bags thrown over his shoulder, ending his call with ‘I’m about to leave now, I’ll see you soon’ as he rushed the kids out the front door and to the car.

Once they were buckled into their seats, their dad put the key in the ignition and the engine rumbled to life simultaneously with the thunder. Tyres screeching as they spun on the wet ground, before finally jerking the car into motion. Their father roughly turning the car around to face the gate, then speeding out the driveway and onto the empty streets. Lightning struck, illuminating the man’s grim expression, as they drove away from their family home in a hurry.

Trying to distract themselves from the uneasy feeling swirling in their heart, Ansoo takes out the letter that they were in the midst of writing, leaning against the bag for a somewhat even and stable surface. Using the occasional street lamp and lightning strike to see, they quickly write that they had to leave their home in a rush and were scared for the coming events that clearly unsettled their father to the point that he acted as rashly as he did.

Once that was done, the letter was put into the envelope and sealed before being safely tucked back away in the bag they were handed earlier.

The frequent loud claps of thunder and forks of lightning did nothing to soothe Ansoo’s mind like it normally did. The feeling of dread sinking to the pit of their stomach as they glanced at Minsoo expression, knowing she was also able to sense in impending danger that their father was trying to run from.

The silence was thick and neither child dare break it, too scared of the possible answer to really want to know the current situation at hand. Their Father’s huffing and tight grip on the steering wheel doing nothing to ease the anxiety the kids had bubbling inside of them and the furious weather outside the car only adding to the tension.

The longer they drove the fewer cars that occupied the roads with them, eventually getting to the point that they hadn’t seen another car for an extended period of time. The air in the car started to settle once the children noticed the tension in their dad’s posture dissipating. Whispered words finding the way to Ansoo’s ears, they turn to their sister, engaging in the small talk by mumbling a few words back.

The storm that was still raging on outside the car slowly returning to the soothing ambience that Ansoo associated it with, peacefully watching the rain drops roll down the window. The flashes of light that slipped through the crack between the trees, showcasing the details of the forest that was now surrounding the road.

A loud pop rung through the air, as the tail of the car spun out. Curse words spewed from their fathers mouth as he quickly tried to correct the car’s course. He slammed the breaks trying to slow the movement, but the car started to skid, the back of the car knocking into something on the embankment. The car rocked, jostling them around as their father still tried to gain control of the car, but the speed was too great.

The car flipped, the windows smashing, broken glass flying everywhere. A ringing resounded in Ansoo’s ears muting the rest of the sounds surrounding them. As the car rolled, Ansoo’s mind went blank. Everything was too loud and too quiet. They felt numb yet felt searing hot pain. The only thing they could identify was the loud ringing in their ears before everything went black.

Ansoo’s head throbs, when they open their eyes everything is dark tints of red surrounding them. Dazed and confused they try to recall the situation. The muffled rumbles of thunder in the distance, incoherent words from unrecognised voices, then heavy footsteps. Loud and clear. The sound was moving away from Ansoo.

Slowly they try to manoeuvre out of the seat, unbuckling the seat belt that secured them, so they can make their way over to Minsoo. Blood. There was blood running down her face. A lot of it. It had run down her neck and stained the collar of her school shirt, that she hadn’t yet changed out of.

Ansoo gently shook their younger sibling, hoping the movement was enough to stir them awake. But they gained no response, Minsoo’s head just lolled to the side causing some of the blood to drip onto Ansoo’s hand. It was thick, with only a hint of warmth to it. They shook their sister a little rougher this time.

“Minsoo. Minsoo! Please wake up” they cry, trying to feel for a heart beat but coming up empty.

Clambering through to the front of the car, Ansoo does the same to their dad, not noticing the heavy footsteps coming back towards them. Eliciting no response and unable to find a heart beat, Ansoo moves to grab their bag and drops out of the broken window of the front passenger seat into the muddy ditch that the car was stuck in.

A light moving around near the car startles Ansoo causing them to still and take note of their surroundings. The deep voices from before now clear.

“What are you doing? Let’s go” one called out

“I thought I heard something, I just wanna check.” This voice was close, causing Ansoo to tense trying to sink into the ground. This person was no doubt the cause of the light that was flitting around the edge of the car and the child didn’t want to alert the man to their presence.

“We already checked. They’re dead! Let’s go, we need to report back.” The person close by shuffled their feet, before eventually moving away from the toppled car, yet Ansoo didn’t dare move.

Waiting till the screech of tyres and rumble of the engine was only a memory, nothing but bitter taste on their tongue. They crawl out from their hiding space, squeezing out of the gap between the car and the edge of the ditch. Stumbling as they stood up, unaware of the pain making them quake due to the adrenaline coursing through their body.

Ansoo headed straight to the trees, ignoring the signs of the incoming emergency services, they ran. Lungs burning, eyes stinging, ears still ringing. They just ran, only hoping there was no signs of footprints left in their wake. Ansoo didn’t know who they could trust, who could get them to the one place they knew they would be safe, now that their family was gone.

Running through a river, not caring how the damp clothes clung to their body and caused the cold wind sting that much more. They just didn’t want to be followed, tracked and eventually found.

Ansoo was grateful for all the activities that their dad made them and Minsoo do since they were old enough to walk, even though it was just fun bonding time, Ansoo couldn’t help but acknowledge that it’d taught them a lot. Was this possibly the reason why though? Did their dad know that they’d need such skills at some point?

They shook their head and ran faster. Now wasn’t the time to thing about that, Ansoo just needed to get as far away from the scene as possible. Ansoo just hoped they were able to find their way to the Son family compound.

Sorry I know there isn’t any monsta x yet but they’ll be here soon. It's not been proofread yet, so please bare with me.

[imbxdateverything]

Kinda like Florence but not really

(i suck at titles ik ik)

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22392178

Summary: The Ghosts are making a getaway and Four gets hurt. That's literally it.

Everything was going according to plan, but doesn't it always start that way?

Three was driving a dark grey 6-seater Mercedes, One was in the passenger seat, Two, Five and Seven were in the back seat and Four was, of course, on top of a building tracking the others, watching them drive away to their assigned meeting place, trying to spot if anyone was following them. So far, everything was quiet but it never lasts.

“One, you've got a tail.” Four called out on his walkie-talkie as soon as he saw the van following the other Ghosts.

“Fuck.” Said Javier quietly to himself.

“How many?” One asked into the walky-talky.

“One black VW Transporter.” Four responded, “I can see the driver and one other person in the passenger seat. I can't tell if there are more in the back.”

“Noted.” One turned to Three. “We have to lose that van.”

“I know, but like I said before, I don't drive like Six.” Said Three and gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“You're gonna have to.” In which Three answered with a quick glance at One's side and a single 'shit'.

Three switched the gear and pushed harder the pedal. One would choose tight roads that their car could pass with some difficulty, but a whole van would have issues. Javier did everything in his power to follow One's directions and he did succeed -not without a few scrapes here and there- for the most part.

The van's driver was more experienced, it seemed and knew the roads well. So well that every time Three took a shortcut, he would always pop up again behind them, even if they did lose him for a heartbeat.

Four started running towards the direction in which Three was driving to catch up and find a plan to lose the vehicle that was after his teammates. He jumped from the rooftop he was on to a near balcony that had a fire escape. From there, he climbed a pipe that was on the outside of a building and made his way up, towards the roof.

One was, every now and again, turning his head around just to see that the VW was still there. No matter how many roads they changed that damn van was still following them. With newfound vigour and anger, One told Three to step on the pedal harder.

He did.

The man in the passenger seat of the van pulled a gun and positioned it on the rolled car window and started shooting, managing to hit the rear glass of the Mercedes and shatter it. At that, Two also got her gun out and shot back. She managed to shoot at the van's windshield but without breaking it.

“I'm close to ya.” Billy said with strained breath as he leaped down onto a wooden roofed patio.

“Please, do take your time. It's not like we're getting shot at or something.” One replied in a sarcastic voice. Everyone heard the faint 'wanker' that was said after One's response and it managed to get a snicker out of the others and to even put a small smile on One's face.

Seven saw the guy, who was holding an AK-9, pointing his gun high. He looked in front and saw Four jumping from an escape ladder to some balcony bars of a building under construction. Seven realised what was happening a second too late.

One was saying something to Three about how 'his grandma could drive faster than that even though she was dead' but Blaine heard it indistinctly as if it was in the background. He heard Three even softer telling One to 'go fuck himself ' and 'if he wanted to drive he should have just said so'. All Seven could focus on was Billy jumping from roof to roof and the guy with the gun in the van behind them aiming at him.

"Four!" Blaine called out loudly enough to make One and Three stop their bickering. "Watch out!" He tried to say but as it turns out, a bullet is faster than his mouth.

Four heard Seven call out to him through the comms just as he was making a leap to the building opposite of him and looked at them just to see the passenger of the van aiming a gun at him. A millisecond before he landed, he felt a piercing pain go through his right side.

Billy touched down with a pained grunt and a roll and got up to start running again only to stumble and fall once more, crying out in anguish. He shot one hand up to his throbbing side and when he shakily pulled it away, it was covered in blood.

"Ah, fuck!" He groaned.

"Everything alright, Four?" One asked in an uneasy manner.

“Yes.” Four said a bit too sharp, in a way that made his voice seem forced and concealed. He suppressed another agonised moan that was building in the back of his throat and put his feet under him.

Once Four got up on his feet, he took a couple uncertain steps forward and after three steps in total he staggered but caught himself on a TV antenna before he could fall.

“Four?” Urged Seven as he heard Four whimper, but the reply he got didn't reassure him one bit even though it was supposed to.

“Yeah, I'm good.” He choked out though gritted teeth uselessly, doing nothing to comfort anyone.

Before anyone could elaborate on that, the bad guys starting shooting at the Ghosts in the car again.

Billy, with a new air of determination, put one foot in front of the other and slowly started running to the other side of the building he was on, to the escape ladder. Once there, he realised within seconds how futile his attempt at jumping over it would be and instead climbed down the steps onto the ground.

Blaine pulled a gun from his belt and joined Camille by shooting the van but instead of going for the driver he went for the tyres. He shot his aim true and punctured the van's tyre which, because of its high speed, made it sharply turn right and topple over.

Three took this opportunity and sped up away from the unmoving van to an alley and then down the road on his left.

"Wait!" Five yelled both into her earpiece and Three's ear. "Bi- Four, where are you?" She asked into her HT.

After a single alarming moment of silence, Four responded with an exhausted; "I'm here." Which, to be honest, almost made One roll his eyeballs into his fucking skull.

"Four," One spoke calmly, "please tell us where the fuck is 'here'."

After another pause, Billy answered with a single word. "Here."

This time One would have actually shot himself, had he and the rest not heard a knock on the side car window.

Seven was the one to get out of the car. He looked at Four for only a second before pulling him in it which made Billy gasp in the gripping pain he felt as his side was jarred with the sudden movement. Seven immediately let his hold of Four up in shock and started scrutinizing him.

One broke him from his reverie by saying that they needed to move. Four looked at Seven with a gleam in his eyes, got inside the car and sat down. At once, Three started the engine up.

None of them made any indication of knowing about Four's injury. And neither did he. Billy thought that it wasn't that big of a deal right now and decided to say nothing for the time being.

-

The team was back in the plane flying home after a very tiresome mission.

One was piloting the plane, Two and Three had 'disappeared', Four was sleeping fitfully sprawled on top of two seats with his legs crossed, Five was looking out of the plane window and Seven was on the brink of sleep.

Camille and Javier returned and Three knocked over Blaine's legs making him fully wake up with a 'What the fuck, man?' and Five to silently chuckle into her palm.

Three also went to do the same to Billy but it had a slightly different result.

When Four's legs dropped to the floor, he startled and hurriedly got up only to wince hard and lower himself back onto his seat with his hands instinctively going to his wounded side. This made Amelia also get up and look worryingly at him and check him over for any injuries. When she saw his blood soaked shirt under his jacket she cringed. First, for not thinking of checking him before and second, the blood on his shirt looked to still be seeping.

She went over to where he was seated and carefully moved his hands away from his side. She got Javier, who was feeling guilty as hell, to help her remove Four's jacket. Amelia then slowly and steadily peeled Billy's shirt back and put her hands on his would to assess it.

Four made an involuntary jerk and hissed in pain.

"Stay still." Amelia spoke calmly yet firmly to Billy, "Tell me what happened."

Billy, who was having difficulty saying sentences that consisted of more than one word, whispered; "Shot."

Five nodded and checked to see if the bullet was still inside him but fortunately, she did find an exit wound. After locating where exactly Billy's injury was, she told him to lie down on his left side as she went to get the plane's First Aid Kit. She got out some bandages to try and soak up as much of the blood as she could before changing them and telling Javier to hold them steady while she secured it with some medical tape.

She also gave him a morphine tablet that she had personally put in the kit and told him to sleep and that she would wake him up again in a couple hours for another dose. His only response was a slow humming that went on for a tad bit too long than it normally would have.

With that, Four lied back down, closed his eyes and within moments he was asleep again.

[namjoonchronicles]

everything he couldn’t say | yg

↳ GENRE fluff, domestic 

↳ WORDS 3.4k

↳ SUMMARY –Aloof. Stoic. And many other words used to describe your husband. He’s not always like that, is he?

↳ WARNING none

↳ NAMJOONCHRONICLES’ HONORARY TAG LIST @kai-tashi @joon94net @yourlocalalien @septemberalien @yoongiseesaw

A new mixer. The device was not even released on international market yet. Jimin opens his mouth to close them again. No words. Yoongi stood beside him, pressing the power button, off. Jimin opens his mouth again, closes them without saying a word. He inhales through his teeth, and whistles.

"...Hyung." He smacked his lips together. "I know." Yoongi darted.

Jimin swung his head to Yoongi this time, but Yoongi was staring down at the device, as if he was staring down at a blackhole of his uncertain future. Jimin frowns and pouted. Then he puffs his cheek and shifted his weight on another foot. He pressed his index finger to his chubby cheek, and drag the down his chin, eyes not leaving the new mixer before scratching the skin underneath his jaw, blinking, and "...How did she even got this?" To which Yoongi answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

"It's close to impossible." Jimin drawled. "I know." Yoongi shot.

"It's limited edition." "I know."

Jimin sat next to Yoongi on the leather couch he has in his Genius Home Lab. Fixing his blonde-do, he rested his elbows on his knees, Jimin didn't plan to be here.

He could blame it on his attentive side for being thrown in this situation, but Jimin sworn to help any how he could when he first got close to Yoongi. It was a given. This morning, Jimin didn't have a plan, nor a place to hangout in or someone to hangout with. He was about to delve into complete boredom of his day, not being able to disturb Jungkook because the guy had locked himself in his room until further notice, Taehyung was out with his schoolmates, yet again--so, Jimin was scrolling down his phone when the screen flashed into an incoming call from Min Yoongi. Answer call.

Jimin spiked on his bed and answered. He was greeted with an off-key singing of 'Spring Day' which turns into Agust D's 'Tony Montana' and then 'Dead Leaves' before spiking off to an upbeat 'Not Today' chorus before slowering down to 'So Far Away'--medley. A medley Jimin never thought possible, in a span of 50 seconds. "Yoongi-hyung?" He hesitantly say. "...Oh, Jimin..." The singing in the background hasn't stopped. "...Is everything alright? Is that the sister-in-law?" Jimin asked. Yoongi shut his eyes, massaging his temples with one hand, "...Yes, that's my wife. Hold on..."

Jimin heard Yoongi called your pet name. Twice, and then three times.

"...Sweetie. Mrs. Min. Earth to Mrs. Min! Mayday...Mayday!"

You looked at him, paused and stare. Yoongi brightens up. She finally stopped.

And then, "I want it, this love. I want it, real love..." Then you proceed to sing his rap verse in DNA. Yoongi burst into short chuckle and held the phone away a bit, "Please, go. GO! I'm trying to work here..." The singing gets dimmer and Jimin could hear the door being closed. And even then you weren't done singing your high notes that could pierce any healthy ear drums. You surely weren't the best singer, but hey, at least your vocals had power. "Now I know why you have locks on your door, hyung..." Jimin passed. Yoongi sighed into the phone, "Didn't mean to call you and disturb your peace, but can't you get anyone out there to bring my wife to that fried chicken shop, I really can't leave my studio right now, I'm 87% done with this track and I don't want to lose my muse."

Jimin tipped his eyes to outside his room and saw Jungkook's door that had the 'Do Not Disturb' sign outside, hanging on its knob before sighing into the phone. "Jungkook is not leaving his room, so I guess that's gonna be me." Yoongi was quick to say no. "Is there no one else there? Apart from you? I need your opinion on something... so someone else has to accompany her." Yoongi leans back into his chair next to his covered piano. He grabbed the remote and pointed it to the aircon to have it slowed a little, because its getting rataher chilly in here. "...I'll see if Seokjin is around." Jimin walked out the room he shared with Hoseok and peeped to Seokjin's room he once shared with Yoongi.

"...Yup, he's here." Jimin nodded. Seokjin tipped his eyes up. "What?"

After Seokjin dropped Jimin off and fetch you to go to that fried chicken shop, Yoongi invited Jimin into his home studio. "We had our new year gift exchange every end of the year, and this year she gave me first." Yoongi revealed the item underneath a black silk cloth and showed a black mixer. It has his name engraved on it. "I never once told her I wanted this. I don't know how she found out." Yoongi let the information sink into Jimin as he watches intently at the specimen.

"...Maybe she checked your browsing history?" "Cleared it, every single time."

"Asked Namjoon?" "Namjoon has never heard of this device."

"Psychic?" "The only probable answer to this mystery. She's psychic."

Jimin blinks at it. A new mixer. The device was not even released on international market yet. Jimin opens his mouth to close them again. No words.

Jimin sat next to Yoongi on the leather couch he has in his Genius Home Lab. Fixing his blonde-do, he rested his elbows on his knees, Jimin didn't plan to be here.

"So this is what you've been worried about for the past few days?" Jimin crinkled his eyes as he smiled and Yoongi casted his eyes down. He didn't think it was obvious. But apparently, it caught Jimin's attention, somehow. It had been days. He was growing increasingly worried about it. To match your gift with his own kind of thoughtfull gift. You gave him something so precious, so unpredicted that it has somehow turned into a 'who had the better gift' competition. Last year, Yoongi went to Innisfree and bought you a gift pack, with a custom made cover with your name on it, then have it delivered to your door while also sending one rose to your office, signed with a Mars chocolate bar that he knew you loved. And you matched that by buying him a new pairs of fuzzy socks with his name on it, in three different design. He came home to a box of limited edition shoes he had been eyeing for many months. No cards, no apparent reason. Just a gift to come home to.

Splurging on your significant other is something you enjoy doing. And it was something that Yoongi picked up too. At first he was quite hesitant, but when you reciprocated the tradition, it became a monthly-thing. Yoongi was running out of creative ways and items, hence, he had asked Jimin today, if he had better suggestions.

"...I have an idea." Jimin said that, and then disappeared for days. Yoongi never knew what it was. So he walked around leisurely into another Innisfree store, and when they approached him, "Are you here to pick up a new set for your wife, Mr. Min?" They are almost certain that Yoongi would come two months once, to fetch the usual facial care products you wear and have it paid for you.

It became his routine. You never had to spend a dime. Sometimes he'll search online for a good spa and have one-whole day spa package purchased for you, to pamper yourself and away from home while he prepares a meal, and do all the house chores for you. Yoongi really knows how to treat you.

It's like he's born to be a husband.

He is very good at managing things at home, fixing stuff, washing dishes--hates doing it but does it anyway; Yoongi take the car to workshops if he notices something odd about it. Making sure you don't have to get your hands dirty, like that one time he caught you changing the car tyre alone. He almost had a heart attack. "I can do it!" You protested with a smile. "...no hands of my wife will touch such greasy material, move. Let the husband do it. I know you can, but what am I here for?" he rolled his sleeve up his elbows and took over entirely.

Smiling down at him as he twist the bolts back into place, you grinned. "If only you saw me living as a student when I was younger... I had friends who never know how to put gas into their car. So I do it for them. I also pump my own tyres. I talk to mechanics. I was not a pretty princess, I do many things on my own..." Yoongi focused on the bolts, managing pretty well of it, before hiking his breathe, commenting, "Is that why you don't like me calling you princess?"

You dropped your head and nodded, leaning against the hood.

"You're right...it's offensive." He suddenly, crossed his leg and sat down on the dirty ground, two remaining bolts needed attention.

You quirked your brows at him, a smile waning. "Why is that offensive? Girls like being called that, but not me...I thought it was weird. The fact that I'm not like everyone else...liked being called: princess." You shrugged your shoulders, looking at the sky and then to him. He twists in the fouth and final bolt into the tyre. "You definitely do not call a Queen, a princess. Your majesty." He cocked an eyebrow at you to which you replied with a growing smile. "You don't look for a knight in a shining armor, because you don't need one. You are your own hero. You find out places you lack in, and you fill them up, no problem. You take one problems head on and stay firm to your ground even when no one else is standing with you...now that's fucking sexy." He hoisted himself off the ground, then drop the spanner to his side, making his way to you. "Sometimes," he rubs his hands together, wiping off the grease as much as he could as he squinted his eyes to the sky behind you, "...I am afraid to tell you things you don't realize you were glancing past, for fear that you will fix and patch it up, leaving me nothing to be good at."

Yoongi framed you with his arm, while keeping a distance, not touching you at all, resting the heel of his palm on the car's hood while he speak in murmurs. "...What are you even saying..." you shook your head and he inhales, "...like where I keep the ladders to refrain you from being able to change the bulbs on your own. Or when I purposely tighten all all jars at home so you could call me for help. And these tyres. You're missing out the tyres," he listed, biting his lips, inching in close and repelled repeatedly, to tease you. "...What about the tyres, what's wrong with them?" You darted your eyes to it. "It needs changing." He shot and you looked at him, "I know. I pretend not to, so you could feel like a man."

"Why you manipulative little carrot." He shot. "I've also found out the way to open the jars without calling you. And I don't use ladders to change the bulb," you sprinted away.

Yoongi is well-aware that you don't need him. You are independent, self-less, diligent and learn very quickly to adapt to situation that sometimes he's scared that you would leave him. He didn't even understand why you're with him when you possess all this survivor capability but he does try to do everything he can, to make himself worthy of your time. But what he didn't notice is that, you began to feel like he was a necessity eventhough you never really expected someone to be this important to you. Min Yoongi was a recklessly forward lover that drilled his way through your concrete heart, and made it, his throne. You have been trespassed and colonized by this being and when you realised it was happening, it was already too late. All the insecurities that made you learn and aspire to be perfect, become more prominent when you realise that Yoongi could have easily chosen somebody else.

"Jimin? Did you get what I told you to get?" You asked, and Jimin handed a pile of books to you, "But why do you need Yoongi hyung's high school magazines?"

Research. You know you can't get that from Yoongi. For some reason, he had been hiding it from you, throwing it away (tried to) before finally giving it to Jimin and you recently find out that the magazine is alive and well. Today, Yoongi sat on the couch, watching Netflix, deciding what to watch and you walked in, reading a passage that sounded so familiar to him. "...For me, it’s not clothes but mine is a little odd. A Hi-Fi (High Fidelity) headphone. A headphone that has high fidelity,"

Yoongi snapped his head to your direction, coming from the depth of the hallway, jumped from the couch and try to get that magazine away from you while you keep reading, unbothered one bit, "Kind of like when you see people carry around expensive electronic devices," he snatched them from your hand but with your incredible memory, you read out aloud what your eyes caught in a split second, eyeing him, "When I see a girl with that kind of headphone, like, she attracts me.” He shoved the magazine down the dry bin, with his legs, stomping a number of times. "Guess who doesn't have a Hi-Fi headphone?" You sat cross legged on the sofa with your arms crossed and menacing grin while Yoongi rested his hand on his hip, staring at the floor, turning his back on you, slouched. "...Which idiot was it?" He grumbled. "Which idiot gave you that magazine? I thought I burnt it..." He repeated. "I don't want to answer that question, I don't have an expensive headphone," you stood up from the sofa and poke your head into the fridge.

And it has begun.

"Honey, did you see the cable I brought home last night, I can't find it..." "I don't know, maybe you should ask girls who uses expensive headphone, she probably knows where it is." "Do you want to order a take out?" "Can't say. A Hi-Fi headphone wearing girl would eat salads and shit." "Let's talk." "I'm not worthy of your time, I used an earphone I bought five years ago, still. I'm not your ideal type. Marrying me was a mistake."

Yoongi hung his jaw open while you walk past him, push him away from the fridge to get to your food.

"You're in my way, move." "Excuse me, you're hurting my feelings." "You're hurting mine." "How exactly do I do that?"

Slam the fridge door shut and gave him your acid eyes. Your mouth opens and closes, before you snapped open the coke can and start gulping it down angrily. "You can't say because you know how irrelevant it is..." he challenged you. "Who are you to tell my anger is irrelevant knowing very well that it's you who made me hella mad." You growled back.

"At a stupid passage I wrote in high school..." He passed, leaning his hip on the counter, peering down at you.

"What's written is strong enough to be an argument. You actually thought that I was going to look past this?" You pointed him with your finger, scoffing a mocking air out your mouth, "Ha! You wish."

"Are you bored? Is that why we're fighting?" Yoongi snatched the can from your hand and drink it down until its finished, before crumpling them in his hands and discarding them by throwing it to the bin, not budging from where he stood.

"Let's do it, let's fight. Come at me baby. Let's go," he taunted you, arms wide spread, ready to accept punches. You squinted your eyes at him, unfazed by his pleas but is growing increasingly waning away.

"...Why do you even like me. Are you pretending?" You dropped your gaze to your feet, and pouted. Your voice softens and barely audible, but Yoongi caught every word. He dropped his fighting arms and scooted next to you, leaning on the counter as well, so you both are facing the refrigerator.

"I don't wear Hi-Fi, I don't even have a Hi-Fi. I don't play musical instruments. I don't know anything about music. I'm not graceful. I change tires for cryin' out loud..." you tilt your head back, begin to laugh while a tear escaped the tail of your right eye that Yoongi could see clearly.

"I fix the toilet, spends more time in Harvey Norman's than I do in boutiques, I am nothing like the girls in the TV. Not goddess like, I don't even like heels. I think vanity is overrated and I throw on anything I feel comfortable in, you must be so embarrassed." You ran your fingers through your hair once and sniffed.

"I know I like you. I love the things you do. I love the way you smile and how you talk me out of things. I like that you listen. And when I read that, your high school fantasy, I just, felt very... not ideal?" You glanced at him briefly but broke eye contact even when you feel his eyes on you. He's doing what you love, listening.

"I was very stupid. I don't know anything back then...how do I say this," he grew increasingly restless, trying to explain emotions knowing how bad he is at it.

"...you're just saying things to make me feel better." You wiped away a tear that fell, smiling bitterly. "Why am I like this..." you whimpered, suddenly feeling the rush of emotions ravishing your sanity.

Yoongi shook his head, murmuring no's.

"...There's nothing wrong with you. Let me say this as simple as I can. I was materialistic. I was intrigued by physical attractions, like every other boys my age, but then I met you. And I realised that there's so much more to love than what meets the eye...I liked pretty ankles, beautiful hands, charming smile but I saw you. You came to me like a hurricane I wasn't prepared for. When I see you walk in with a basket full of muffin and left them at the hospital for strangers to take, I fell hard. I realised that love is so much more than the movies made them to be."

"Suddenly, love wasn't whether she had a Hi-Fi, or expensive headphones. I used to want someone who I can speak music with, but realised teaching you the things I know is much more rewarding. Your eyes sparkle when you hear me play, I won't get that from someone who knows music like the back of their mind. Do you know how cool you are, not being graceful? How you take everything into your control and take charge? People trust you and do you know how attractive that is? No Hi-Fi comes at parr to the leadership ability you have. Do you know how many girls I know who could change their tyre and be independent as fuck? One. And how you curse? That's so sexy. You can insult me everyday, and I would thank you," Yoongi shrugged.

"Are you on drugs, Yoongi." You chuckled, and wrapped an arm around his waist, leaning your forehead on his upper arm. "I wish I was, what the fuck did I just say," he begin to blush.

Jimin came back with a pen-drive, thankfully you got the door. "It's for you, from your husband." Jimin said. "Happy gift day!"

You watched him scampering down the hallway outside your apartment and frowned in confusion. Inserting the pen-drive into the slot of your large TV, you sat and waited for it to load. Yoongi creeps behind the hallway to watch you. Jimin was obviously the one carrying the camera into Yoongi's studio office.

"What's up, what's up Mr. Min Yoongi!" He sang, chirping and Yoongi gave him a side eye and ignored pretty much the whole time he was there.

"...who's texting?" Jimin asked, from the video you heard. Yoongi is typing something into his phone,"...my wife." He is smiling till his eyes turned into crescents.

Then the video shot cut into Yoongi walking side by side with Jimin, Jimin is the one shooting it. "Our beloved hyung is getting a pizza for his wife. Is it okay? She just got well from a fever."

"She likes pizza." "What's the best thing about Mrs. Min?" Jimin asked. Yoongi glared at the camera. "Everything."

Everything.

Jimin compiled everything Yoongi couldn't say. In a video.

[adrenaline-roulette]

He’ll save every one of us Chapter 1

Brian May x Reader with side notes of Roger Taylor x Original female character

Preview: “If you want to kick something, feel free to kick our van, Roger’s been pissing me off all week.” Came a deep voice from behind you both. “I’m sorry Mister, but I have a strict no kicking stranger’s cars policy. You’ll just have to kick Roger’s car yourself.” “Is there any particular reason as to why Roger’s car should be the victim of such abuse?”

Chapter one: The Midnight Librarians 

You twirled your drum stick between your fingers, your foot tapping against the stage floor impatiently as you scanned your eyes across the sea of pub goers all awaiting your band to start performing. The crowd had been growing steadily for the past hour, though it wasn’t until five minutes ago that you and your bass guitarist Bree began to stress. This was your first performance for the summer break, and the pub had booked you to play every Friday and Saturday night until the Universities all went back, at the time you had all been beyond excited to have a steady gig for a little while, though now, sitting under the beating stage lights, you realised this could very well be your first and last gig! Your band had been booked at the last minute, only receiving the news of your time slot at the beginning of the week.   It wasn’t impossible to perform your set without your lead guitarist, but he did provide back up vocals, and the songs just wouldn’t sound the same without his harmonies.  The drumstick stopped abruptly in its spin, as you snapped your attention towards Bree, who had stopped tuning her guitar, an identical expression of worry etched across her face. Gesturing your head towards backstage, she eagerly nodded, and you both scurried off the bright stage, leaving your audience to wait even longer for the music to begin.

You kick the backstage door open, storming off into the carpark, your fists clenched at your sides as you go. Bree follows a ways behind you, choosing to express her anger in silence, unlike you, who decided to scream as gutturally as possible. It was an excellent way to ruin your voice just before a gig, but you couldn’t give a damn any more.

“Where the fuck is he?” You growl, as you stomp over to Bree’s station wagon, kicking the rear tyre in frustration. “He had better have a bloody good excuse for not showing up! And if tries to pull the whole, ‘Oh, I didn’t realise that was tonight!’ shit again, I’ll rip his head off!”

Bree puts her hands out in front of her, a sign that she came in peace and meant no harm. “Last I heard from him, he promised to be here, maybe something bad happened?”

“Unless he’s either dead or dying, then I fail to see what would cause him to bail without notice.” You mutter, turning your attention back to putting as much effort as possible into breaking your targeted tyre.

“Jeez Y/N, could you maybe not destroy my car? We need to get out of here somehow, if we plan on ditching that is?” Bree sighs, stepping closer to you, now that you had calmed down somewhat.

“If you want to kick something, feel free to kick our van, Roger’s been pissing me off all week.” Came a deep voice from behind you both. Stopping mid kick, you turn on the spot, regarding the new arrival with an unamused expression.

You fold you arms across your chest, tilting your head to one side as you look over the man stood before you. He had chin length hair, which looked to have been ironed into straightness within an inch of its life. Though you could imagine if he let it grow out that it would suit his angular face far better. If his voice wasn’t as gentle as it was, then his height would surely make him quite intimidating, though you found yourself unafraid of the newcomer. “I’m sorry Mister, but I have a strict no kicking stranger’s cars policy. You’ll just have to kick Roger’s car yourself.” You shrug, as Bree grins beside you.

Bree rests her hand on your shoulder in a comforting manner, before directing her eyes on the man as well. “Is there any particular reason as to why Roger’s car should be the victim of such abuse?”

  “Well, not to offend you both. But Roger is the reason as to why your band has the next few weeks booked to play here, instead of us.” He sighs, a half smile tugging at his lips. He looks far too exhausted to be out on a Friday night, stress from final exams likely putting a large amount of pressure on him, as with most of the other pub patrons. “He decided not to show up for a few of our gigs last month. The manager told us, that unless we could guarantee the whole band would be there, then he couldn’t book us anymore. Unsurprisingly, we couldn’t promise Roger’s being there, so our booking got cut.”

Tough blow you think to yourself, as you allow your arms to fall to your sides, fishing out your pack of smokes from your back pocket, retrieving one and sitting it between your lips, Bree passes you her lighter and, you inhale deeply as the flame kisses the end.  “Sorry to hear that, but if it’s any consolation, I think we’re about to be out of luck soon too. Our lead guitarist is MIA.”  You tap the ash off the end of your cigarette, watching it fall to the gravel beneath you. “What’s your band called? We tend to know most of the local university acts, I’m surprised we haven’t seen you around before.”

“Currently, we’re known as smile. Though there’s been talks of changing it to Queen. That is if Freddie has anything to say about it. I’m Brian by the way, my mother would have my head if she knew I didn’t introduce myself sooner!”

“Well Brian, it’s been a pleasure meeting you. But I really must get back to what I was doing and plotting our band mates murder.” You say lightly, gesturing to the car behind you.

Bree scowls at you, punching your shoulder lightly. “Whoa now, I said it was fine for you to kick things, not to murder people!”

“Sorry, it’s a fine line. Guess I crossed it.” You shrug, though you grin over at her, watching as she rolls her eyes at your antics.

“Any chance I could get your names before I leave? You know, so I can keep an eye out for your band?” Brian asks, a slight nervous lilt to his voice.

You lift a quizzical eyebrow up at him, he seemed harmless enough, and from the sounds of things he understood your frustration on difficult band members. “I’m Y/N, and this is Bree. The band’s called, the midnight librarians.”  You offer with a small smile.

“That’s bloody awesome.” Brian chuckles, as he turns on his heel and heads back towards the pub, stopping as he reaches the door. “I hope to see you around Y/N….” He smiles, before heading back inside.

“You have to marry him!” Bree declares, throwing her arm across your shoulder, as she steals the smoke from your lips, taking a long drag. “He’s gorgeous, plays in a band, lives somewhere near us. He’s perfect!”

“I like the fact that the only things on your check list to get married, are looks, job, and location… Besides, I’m busy plotting the perfect murder here. I can’t very well start planning a wedding.” You smirk, as Bree finishes off your cigarette, stamping out the butt on the ground.  “Really though, what are we going to do tonight? Do we go on, just the two of us? Or do we just pack up and leave?”

Bree sighs deeply, running a hand across her forehead as she mulls over your words. “I suppose we could see how we go with just us?” She begins, before being cut off, once again by the back door slamming open.

“So sorry to intrude my darlings! But my dear Brian here,” The stranger takes a moment to gesture behind him, just as Brian emerges from the door, waving shyly. “Was just mentioning the predicament you have found yourselves in, and of course he didn’t think about mentioning it at the time, but he is our lead guitarist. A rather good one at that if I do say so myself. Perhaps he could help you out tonight?” The young man flounces around before both of you, his long hair bouncing around as he takes long strides. There’s an air of theatrics around him, and you can only imagine they type of stage presence he would have. “I’m Freddie, lead singing of Queen. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”  He smiles, bowing before the two of you.

“Oh, so the name change is official is it?” Brian chuckles, as he stands beside his bandmate, arms folding across his chest.

“Of course, it’s official, it’s perfectly outrages! Just like me!” Freddie decides, with a voice of finality.

You look at Bree, who has a matching look of unsureness etched across her features. “Not to be ungrateful, but how would Brian be able to help us? If you mean for him to play along side us, while the offer is very kind, he doesn’t know any of our songs. He’s never even heard of us before. He wouldn’t be able to keep up.” Bree offers with a shrug, watching as Freddie comes to a complete stand still in front of you both.

Freddie frowns deeply, looking between the two of you, and back at Brian, the cogs in his brain working on overdrive. “I’m sorry, what did you just say my dear?”

Bree blinks slowly over at Freddie, taking in his look of pure confusion. “I said that Brian doesn’t know our band or music.” She begins, before being cut off by a loud laugh from Freddie.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard! Brian knows all about the midnight librarians, he’s been following your band for months now! He was the one who recommended your band to the manager, when he said he needed to replace us!” Freddie laughs, wiping a fake tear away from the corner of his eye.

You mouth drops at this revelation, turning your attention entirely on Brian now. “So, you do know us then?” You grin, resting your hands on your hips. Brian has the good decency to blush at having been called out.

“I saw you putting up flyers for the band a little while ago, I like to hear new music.” He shrugs lightly, lowering himself down to sit on one of the stairs bellow the backstage door. “I decided to check you guys out at one of your gigs, thought you sounded pretty damned good, and have been keeping an eye out for your other shows.”

“If by keeping an eye out, you mean going to every bloody show and dragging us along too!” Freddie yells across the parking lot. “No offence my dears, your music is wonderful!”

You stand over Brian now, resting your hip against the banister of the stairs. “So, you’ve been stalking us, have you?”

“If by stalking you mean going to your gigs like any other university student. Then yes, I’ve been stalking you.”

“He also said something about having a class with Y/N!” Freddie calls once again, causing Bree to laugh hysterically, and Brian to groan.

You can’t help but laugh, the poor man was being picked on mercilessly, and you loved it! “So, should I give you my bank details now or later?”

Brian groans, resting his head in his hands, his elbows propped up on his bony knees. “I swear I’m not a creep! It’s honestly just a coincidence we share a class. It’s only one as far as I’m aware, and I swear I don’t know anything else about you!” Brian pleads with you.

You grin down at him, before taking a seat beside him on the step. “Don’t stress Brian, I’m honestly quite flattered that you take the time out of your life to come and see us perform.”

“He also knows your favourite colour, your middle name, your dorm number, and where you like to go after class to get a coffee!” Freddie sings, as he leans against Bree’s car beside her, resting against the bonnet.

Brian glares across at his friend, Freddie waving merrily at him with a grin. “I can assure you, I know none of the above.”

“That’s a relief. If you did, I would have to call the police, I think! I’m sure they would have some questions for you.” You smirk, as you lean your forearms against your knees. “Do you think you would be able to play with us? I know it’s a huge ask, and from the looks of things, it wasn’t your idea. But you might very well be our only hope.”

Brian watches you intently, mulling over his next words. “I may not be perfect, but I can try my hardest. It won’t be exactly how it usually sounds, but I’m pretty good at picking things up on the fly.”

You nod in agreement, facing Bree across the way. “Alright Bree, we need to make a decision now, before we’re told to leave. Do we try our best with just us, accept Brian’s offer, or just call it quits?”

Neither of you want to let this night end badly, so the option of packing up and leaving is not your first preference.  Besides, if you do leave now, you won’t get paid, and that really isn’t ideal. “If Brian thinks he can match us, then he’s in!” Bree finally answers, and you grin at her.

“Well Brian, it looks like you’ve got yourself a gig tonight. We’ve got the guitar all tuned up and ready to go, so she’s all yours.” You smile, as he stands up, reaching a hand down to you and pulling you up after him.

“Now just know this, lovely ladies, you cannot keep him! He’s my guitarist, and we will need him back eventually.” Freddie warns, a playfully serious look on his face, as the four of you make your way back inside of the pub.

“You’d better watch out Fred, I might like performing with them better than you lot. Might find yourself in the market for a new guitarist!” Brian smirks, as the three of you make your way onstage.

“Don’t you dare! We’re already struggling to find a bassist, don’t make us have to find a lead guitarist too!” Freddie cries dramatically from the wings of the stage. You only just manage to hear him from the noise of the audience, but you all get the general idea of what he’s saying.

As Freddie turns to leave, a young man walks up to him, a friendly smile plastered on his face, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he waves. “Hi, I’m John Deacon, I play bass.”

“You’re hired!” Freddie shrieks, as he grabs the young man’s wrist, and drags him towards the bar, leaving Brian to set up with his new friends.

  The three of you get yourself ready quickly, everything having already been set up by you and Bree earlier in the evening. Brian takes a few moments to get the feel for the new guitar, though he quickly picks it up, and within minutes the three of you are ready to perform. “Alright Brian, just follow on as best you can! We can do this!” You grin, trying desperately to stay positive, despite the less than ideal situation you had found yourselves in. “One… Two… Three!” You cry, counting the band in, as you crash down on the drums, Bree chiming in on the bass and Brian following with a riff which is relatively close to what it should be. Bree belts out the lyrics you had worked hours on creating, as you sing along behind your drum kit, throwing your heart and soul into this set.

It takes a little while before the audience warms up to you, though soon enough everyone is moving along to the music, feeling the rhythm course through them. You grin happily, rather impressed with how quickly Brian had picked up on his role in the band, even if he was just a temporary stand in, you didn’t half mind performing with him. Somehow, he kept finding his way over to your drum kit, grinning at you as you pounded out the rhythm to your current song. Occasionally he would play it up for the audience, playing directly for them when a solo came up, but he would instantly find his way back to you. You play for a solid hour and a half, before you all decide it’s due time you take a much-needed beer break. “Thank everyone, we’ve been the midnight librarians, with special guest Brian May on guitar. We’ll be back soon!” Bree calls out through the microphone, as you all climb off stage, heading straight for the bar.

As you reach the bar, you spot Freddie speaking with two other men, one with flowing blonde locks and piercing blue eyes, the other a brunette, with a permanently cheerful expression etched upon his face. “You were wonderful darling’s! Truly wonderful!” Freddie grins, as he hands you and Bree each a beer, both of you taking large gulps instantly, you were parched, and the cold drink was ever so soothing. “Brian, come meet John, we’ll be auditioning him this week, he says he plays bass.”

“Nice to meet you.” Brian grins, shaking hands with the younger man.

The blonde man, looks over at you and Bree, grinning at the two of you. “You look pretty good out there, don’t sound half bad either.” He smirks, lifting his beer bottle to his lips and taking a drink. You glare at him, not at all liking how cocky he sounded. Though Bree smiles, a faint blush covering her cheeks.

“Thank you, I’m Bree, this is Y/N.” She offers the stranger, and you can’t resist rolling your eyes. Trust Bree to flirt with the first blonde haired, blue eyed floozy she meets at a pub.

“Roger Taylor, at your service.” The blonde grins, as he pushes past Freddie and John, to stand in between you and Bree.

Pursing your lips, you step aside, not really wanting to stand so close to the flirt fest that was occurring before you. “Is he always like this?” You ask, turning your attention to Brian, who could only chuckle in response.

“Just wait until he really gets started, he knows every pick-up line there is.” Freddie sighs, shaking his head in exasperation.

“Sounds like they’ll be perfect for each other then.” You mutter, noticing as Roger wraps his arm around Bree’s waist, stepping her away from the group. “Oi, blondie! We need her back in twenty!” You shout at them. Roger waves you off, while Bree nods at you in understanding. “Why do I get the nasty feeling we won’t be seeing her again tonight?”

Brian leans back against the bar, folding his arms over his chest loosely. “Oh no, he’ll bring her back as promised. Just not necessarily in the designated time period.”

“That really isn’t very reassuring Brian. Just want you to know that.” You grumble, shooting a glare over to the taller man.  You look over to the young man stood beside Freddie and offer him a smile. “Hey there, John was it? I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”

John grins back at you, a small gap between his two front teeth prominent as he looks at you. “Nice to meet you too. You three really are quite good out there! Mind me asking what happened to your regular guitarist?”

“Nothing that can be proven.” You mutter darkly, before laughing. “We’re currently going with, either dead or maimed. But until further news, we’re just speculating.”

John blinks at you, a look of shock and surprise written across his face. “Are you always this dark?” He asks, taking a swig from his beer. He looks too young to be drinking, and you would wager a guess on Freddie having bought the young man the drink.

“It’s one of my many charms, I’m able to be as dark and depressing as I would like, and still get away with it, because I’m cute as a button.”

“Can’t argue with the logic.” Brian chuckles from beside you, and you grin over at him, accepting the full beer he held out to you.

“Shouldn’t I be buying you drinks? Seeing as you rescued us from an impending doom?” You ask, though eagerly take another sip from the cold bottle.

Brian takes a moment to mull over you question. “You’re right, that’ll be 40p.” He grins, holding his hand out, palm up awaiting his payment. “Nah, how about you buy the next round?”

“I think I can mange that.” You grin, as you lean against the bar beside him. The night carries on with you discussing the latest albums with Brian, Freddie and John. What was supposed to be only a thirty-minute break, ended up being closer to an hour by the time Bree and Roger returned. Both looked a little bit worse for wear, hair in tangles, and Bree’s lipstick smeared across Roger’s lips and neck. No one mentions a thing though, you’re just thankful she had returned to finish the set.

The three of you kick off once more, throwing yourselves into the music, just as the audience did too. You finished off with a song which involved a type of audience participation, asking everyone to clap along to the chorus. It always sounded fantastic when an entire pub full of people were clapping in time to your drum beat, with just Bree’s vocals accompanying you. Brian watched from the side, grinning as he allowed the two of you to finish the song. He would be lying if he said he paid any attention to anyone but you in that moment.

After another few rounds at the bar, the crowd had dwindled dramatically, leaving just a dull roar over the jukebox, now playing the hits of the Beatles. You and Bree make your way back onto the stage, starting to pack up your instruments, dreading having to fit your entire drum kit back into Bree’s station wagon. It was a tight squeeze, yet somehow you managed to make it work. Brian reappeared beside you, grin as you look at him in surprise. “Let me give you a hand.” He offers gently.

  You’re hardly able to say no, especially seeing as he had already picked up your bass drum and was walking with it towards the backstage exit. Grabbing your snare drum, you follow him out, ignoring Bree’s wolf whistle as she watches how quickly you run to catch up with him. You kick open the door, just as Brian reaches the car, carefully sliding the large drum into the back seat through the boot. “Thanks for your help, but you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I’ve loaded up my drums into this car more times than I can count.” You offer, as you come up behind him, waiting for him to move out of the way so you can slide the next piece of kit into the car.

“Is that your way of telling me I’ve over stayed my welcome?” Brian grins, turning to look down at you, as you move up next to him, with the next piece of the drum kit.

“What? No! That isn’t what I meant at all!” You gasp out. “I just meant, that you’ve already helped out so much tonight, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do more.” You stammer, looking anywhere but his eyes, which were focused intently on you.

“I’m not still here out of obligation. I’m here because I actually rather enjoy spending time with you, and I’m trying to pluck up the courage to ask you out on a date.” He smiles, a light blush colouring he cheeks.

You bite down on your bottom lip, before finally looking up at him, your eyes meeting instantly. Standing on your toes, you press a soft kiss against his lips, watching as his eyes flutter closed. It only lasts for a moment, as you’re soon interrupted by Freddie talking obnoxiously loudly with John. “And over there you’ll see Roger’s van, which is how we get around to all of our gigs. And if you look to your left, you will see our guitarist snogging the living daylights out of his new, special friend.”

Brian pulls away, resting his forehead against yours as he groans. “Trust Freddie to ruin the moment.”

“And who said this was going to go any further, hm?” You laugh, reaching forwards to rest your hand against his shoulder, rubbing small circles against it with your thumb.

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that!” He quickly defends, though soon notices the playful look on your face. “I’m going to have to get used to sarcasm with you, aren’t I?”

You nod eagerly, grinning up at him. “You would be correct in thinking so!” Slowly you step away from Brian, removing your hand from his shoulder as you do so. “So, how about dinner on Tuesday?”

Brian smiles, running a hand through his hair as he watches you walk backwards away from him and the car. “Tuesday sounds wonderful.”

“Great! You can pick me up at seven!” You call over you shoulder, as you turn on your heel as skip up the stairs to the door once again, disappearing behind it.

“Wait!” Brian calls out, just before the door shuts. You pop your head back out, regarding him with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ll need your address to be able to pick you up!”

You purse your lips for a moment, before laughing. “According to Freddie, you already know where I live!”

“You know for a fact that I don’t!” Brian protests, his hands falling to his side I defeat, as Freddie laugh maniacally from Roger’s van.

“Well Brian, that sounds like a problem you’ll have to figure out! See you Tuesday!” You call merrily, as the door shuts behind you with a sense of finality, leaving Brian stood in the carpark, glaring daggers at the lead singer.

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