#so we had a huge party on sunday

[bell-swamp-fitzjames]

i wish i had more thoughts on the playlist event beyond "omg its so cool its happening" and "omg im so sad its ending" etc etc. i need to like reread what's been said about each playlist bc that's the one thing I probably dont do enough. i just have the gist of what i remember from when i read it on sunday and then the rest of it is just me going "whoa i can really see xyz listening to this" except for jopson who i constantly want to strangle bc what the fuck do u mean. Jopson and miss jamie's mixtape drive me up the WALLS im ripping my nails off thinking about them (jopson what do u listen to off the clock brother and well. dave just tell me who put what on the playlist u dont need to confirm anything at all beyond who put what on the playlist, just give me one song per guy dave i dont think its a big ask)

[6gumi]

jealous little angel.

synopsis ﹒” oh mr. sunday 、you really need to work on your jealousy ! it was just a prank ! ”

pairings﹒sunday x f!reader

cw﹒ nsfw MDNI. jealous s3x 、rough ! sunday :< 、some possessive themes / tendencies 、usage of petnames ( angel-face、dove、etc ! ) 、wall s3x 、semi-public s3x 、slight breeding kink if yew squint ! ^-^ 、he rips your stockings . . hehe 、we luv possessive sunday !

note﹒hai hai ! ! decided to write for sunday . . . ooh he’s so dreamie . . . he’s such a red flag but i luv him . . . x.x hehe here’s a special taggie for a special someone ! @cubffections | reblogs are highly appreciated. if you would like to talk to me, send in rqs or thirsts, feel free to send me an ask ! — rubi ♡

this party was going to drive him to the edge. sunday can't contain his excitement as he examined his surroundings . . . the anticipation of seeing his beloved made his heart race. he knows you’re waiting for him, dressed in something that's bound to drive him wild. It's maddening, the way you tease him, playing with his emotions. he steps forward, closing the huge door softly behind him. the scent of you permeates the air, and he can't help but inhale deeply, relishing the familiar comfort it brings. sunday knew you were off talking to a few ipc members here and there, so he took his sweet time trying to find you, savouring every step.

rounding the corner, he spots you in profile, your body bathed in the soft glow of the hallway light. the sight of you in that red lace nightgown, the way your breasts sway with each step, is enough to make his cock ache. it’s an irresistible sight, and sunday moves toward you with predatory intent. but wait . . . why were you speaking with someone else? sunday’s smile faded . . . lost in the immediate shuffle of emotions as he examined the man that was way too close to you for comfort, that dopey smile on that man’s face wasn’t fooling anyone . . and he was aware of that. his vibrant gaze slowly faded away, clouding the atmosphere with nothing but tension. he clenched his fists as hard as he could, enough for his nails to draw blood to his delicate skin.

sunday really couldn’t stand it.

he couldn’t stand seeing you with someone else. even so, he knew very well you were doing this on purpose just to tease him . . . seeing you having such a great time with someone else triggered a primal protective instinct within him. the way you touched that man’s shoulder . . . those pretty doe eyes of yours staring into someone else’s eyes other than his . . . the way your breasts squeezed together when you crossed your arms, fuck. he couldn't ignore the need to discipline you when you behaved like this, and he knew he had to put you in your place.

with a smooth, fluid motion, he scooped you up into his arms, carrying you away from the party, away from your new little friend you made and any distractions. “huh . . . ? sunday?—“

“not another word from you, my love.” sunday tried to act firm . . yet he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping more beats than one at the sight of your cleavage in that god-forbidden revealing dress, the memory of how they felt in his hands coming back to him in a rush. sunday swallows thickly, his gaze locked on your exposed cleavage. he can almost smell your arousal now, faint but undeniable. "what were you thinking? were you trying to seduce that fool?“ he was moving closer. He can't resist the temptation, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek . . . his thumb pressing against your lower lip.

"you know I can't resist you, and you know i can’t stand it when you’re all dolled up talking to someone else but me. have you learnt nothing from the punishments i’ve given you? is that it?” a devilish glint sparkles in his eyes, promising an evening full of sin and pleasure. who knew such an angel like him would have eyes this dangerous. sunday leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "you belong to me . . ." he whispers, taking in the scent of your fragrance, “. . . or have you forgotten that?”

you couldn’t help but shiver against his body, you wanted this as much as he did and he could tell, he knew very well you did. “baby . . . i just wanted to play a little prank on you, ‘s nothing serious . . . promise!” sunday kept his mouth shut as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, tugging you flush against his body. his lips find the nape of your neck, where he plants a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin. "it is serious when there’s another man involved," he growls, his voice deep and rough with need. “ . . . and you know i don’t share, darling.”

with a hand, he reaches down and eases your pretty lil’ dress up, exposing your ass. his gloved fingers dig into the soft flesh, tracing the curve before giving it a firm, possessive squeeze. "bad, bad girl.” he murmurs, already envisioning the way you’ll shred under his touch. “what am i gonna do with a bad girl like you . .” sunday examines your facial expression, giving your cheek a gentle slap, inserting his thumb inside your mouth. “should i tie your arms around your back? shove my cock inside this slutty mouth of yours . . . or fill you up with my cum? or maybe . . . i should fuck you in-front of everyone else, let them know that you’re mine and mine alone . . do you want that, my love?”

sunday’s lips curve into a wicked smile, and he nods, his hand still firmly gripping your ass. "i wish i can hide you away from the world, angel-face . . . you need to be taught some more.” he warns, his voice thick with lust. “guess those punishments didn’t work on you . . . how pitiful.”

sunday kept your body pinned against the wall, the grip on your ass never wavering, the feel of his beloved pressed against him driving him wild. he knew you both had to be careful . . his little wings would flutter at the loud sound of music from below, there were still people around . . and getting caught was not something he would want. once you both were in the clear, he doesn't waste any time. with one swift movement, he lifts you even further up against the wall, your legs parting to reveal the wetness between them. sunday’s sinful eyes devour the sight, and he can't help the predatory smile that spreads across his face. "such a naughty girl, wet for me already,"

"now, what do you say we do something about that wetness of yours?" he asks, his voice low and suggestive, the air thick with the promise of pleasure and sinfulness. “ . . ‘s not fair i’m gettin’ punished for a prank . .” you murmured, legs trembling under his hold. sunday chuckles darkly, giving your ass a hard slap, the sound vibrating against your skin.

“now, now, baby . . no need to act all innocent," he teases, his hand never leaving your hip . . gently pinning you with his body even more. “i like how feisty you can get, angel face . . . but there's a time and a place for everything, right?" he purrs, his eyes dark with lust. “you won’t be acting all innocent once i fuck you dumb on my cock.” your husband traces his fingers down your chest, pausing to tease your nipples through the lace of the dress. his mouth finds yours, his lips soft as he explores your mouth with his tongue, taking his time to savor the taste of your lips he yearned for all day. when he pulls away, he's breathing heavily. the young male tsked, shaking his head as he reached your chin again, “you know how i feel about disobedience, correct?”

"tonight i’m going to show you who you belong to," he murmurs, reaching for the hem of the dress. with a swift yank, he pulls it over your head, revealing your body in all its glory. “the man you will belong to until the end of time.” sunday’s eyes drink in the sight of your black stockings, licking his lips. "you’re not getting away from me anytime soon, my love, i hope you and your pretty little head realize that.” he asks, his voice thick with desire as he starts to tug the stockings down.

“you’re not escaping me, angel-face.” he growls, his hand gripping the delicate fabric of the pair stockings you wore . . . with a swift and violent motion, he tears them down your legs, the sound of the material tearing filling the empty hall. he relents, pulling back just enough to grip your inner thigh, his grip firm but not oppressive. . . admiring the rip he caused with your stockings, giving him easier access to those pretty panties you wore.

sunday’s eyes gleam with a deranged excitement, gripping your hips, positioning himself at the entrance of your pussy . . giving it one painful slap. "you’ll thank me for this someday," he growls before gently sliding himself inside your wet heat, the friction sending shivers down his spine. “you’ll thank me for claiming you, my dove. you will.”

“a-ah . . sunday . . !” the young halovian’s lips curve into a wicked grin as you gasp, the surprise at the sudden invasion of his cock into your pussy more than apparent. he’s not gentle, not this time. sunday needs to claim you, to make sure you knew who owns you in this moment and forever. his thrusts were harsher than usual, tongue lolling out as you were slowly losing your mind already when his cock filled you completely. “you’re mine, angel. you’ll always be mine," he growls, the possessiveness in his tone thick. he pounds into you with desperation to get his message across your head, the rhythm erratic, as if he's trying to claw his way into your soul . . fingers nearly turning white as they dug into the flesh of your hips, pulling them back to meet each thrust of his cock.

his own heat was rising, the scent of sweat snd sex filling the air around you. with how loud you were moaning, he was almost certain someone would catch you both. “let the heat pass through you, and i’ll mark you. i’ll claim you, my love.” he was going to breed you, to leave no doubt that you were his. his thrusts became more erratic, more urgent, as he fights to push aside the thoughts that threaten to consume him. the single thought of his seed filling you only intensifies his need to dominate, to control . . to keep you all to himself.

"nobody will take you away from me. nobody.” sunday grinds his hips against you, his cock sliding against your tight entrance. sunday already came inside you multiple times the previous times you both had intercourse, but it's not enough. he wants your body to be filled with his seed. his fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts forward, filling your cunny with his throbbing dick. sunday’s eyes roll back as he relishes in the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around him once more . . only raising his urge fill you up even more. “s—so tight, so perfect. i wish i could fill you up every day . . let everyone know you’re mine.” sweat drips down his forehead as he drives into you with a newfound fervor. each thrust is a powerful assertion, “easy now . . you don’t want us to get caught now, do you?" his voice is a low, gravelly growl, laced with desperation.

“sunday . . f-feels weird . . feels like i’m goin’ stupid . .” drool slipped away from your lips, a chuckle left sunday’s lips as he slowed down his thrusts . . giving you a moment to adjust to his size again, taking that moment to kiss and mark your neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin. “you were sent to me by the angels of this world,” he whispers, the possessiveness in his tone unmistakable. “you look so pretty pressed up against the wall like this . . . are you enjoying yourself?”

“fuck . . yes, yes!” sunday’s eyes flare with delight at your whine, your need for him clear, and it makes him even more aggressive in his thrusts. sunday was close, so close. he leaned over your shoulder, his teeth finding their mark on the juncture between their delicate skin of neck and shoulders, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. “mine, mine, mine . . ." he whispered against your ear, burying himself deeper and deeper, caging your hands above your head, holding them there as he filled you completely, ensuring that when you cum, you cum for him and only him. he’s not going to let you go.

with one final, brutal push of his cock, the halovian came inside your aching cunny, flooding your walls with his seed. he held you tightly against his body, shifting gently further into the wall. his release was intense, seed spurting deep inside as some dripped down on the floor. he nestled close against your neck, breathing heavily, refusing to let go of you even after he emptied himself inside. “ . . . so tell me, angel face, did you learn your lesson?”

© 6GUMI 2024. modifying 、translating 、sharing my works on other platforms 、or considering them as yours is strictly prohibited.

[mariacallous]

In 2019, I gave a talk at TED that created waves: first at the conference, then on the internet and then, convulsively, in my own life. TED is Silicon Valley’s sacred ground. It’s the most consequential tech conference in the world and, in 2019, my talk entitled “Facebook’s role in Brexit - and the threat to democracy” was a break with normal service. It was the first time, a speaker had implicated Silicon Valley directly in the political tumult of 2016. It ricocheted out of the conference and across the internet where it’s now been seen five million times. And, most cataclysmically of all, it precipitated a lawsuit that devoured my time, energy and health.

This week I returned.

It was a big deal on any number of levels. For me, personally, for TED, and, I believe, or at least, hope, for Silicon Valley. I got to send a message to the leaders of these companies from a platform that is inside the temple. I’ve lost my voice and I feel like I’ve lived through a tornado….but with the knowledge that it’s one I’ve chosen to unleash.

TED has just released it as the first talk from the conference. I got to name what is happening for what it is: a coup. I call the Silicon Valley companies who attend this conference and even sponsor it, collaborators who are complicit in a regime of fear and cruelty. And I accuse Sam Altman, the CEO of OpenAI, who is talking here on Friday not just of data theft but data rape.

There’s so much to say and I will write more soon but for now I’d be so grateful if you watch it and share it with your families and friends. In spite of everything, I’m grateful to have been given this platform and to be able to communicate what I believe are vital truths but I have paid a price for doing this work and the last week has been a rollercoaster of emotions: doubt, self-questioning, denial, overwhelm, fear.

And in the middle of it, the night before I flew to TED, I went to the Observer’s farewell party. This Sunday marks the end of the newspaper as we know it. Six years ago, I got to write about the experience of giving my TED talk in the Guardian/Observer. Paul Webster, the editor, put it on the front page.

This time around, that’s not possible. TED gave me editorial freedom to say what I wanted. The Guardian/Observer won’t even allow me to write about it, in any form.I pitched a piece for this Sunday about the experience. It would be my last article for the paper, it transfers to Tortoise next week who have declined to renew my contract; an epitaph to my 20-year career there and an an end point to an investigation that brought the Guardian and Observer extraordinary kudos and the most money it has ever raised from any story. It was turned down. That is an extraordinary indictment.

Here, instead, is a still from the talk. I believe that existing movements - the labour movement, the civil rights movement - are fundamental to asserting our rights against Silicon Valley, to rebuilding the internet from the ground up to rejecting the autocratic takeover not just the US but our reality: we all live on these platforms.

I’m six years older than when I gave that first talk though I feel 106 years older. Part of my reason for going through with it - and it was touch and go whether I would - was because, as I say at the end, I’m reclaiming my story. I’ve been trapped in someone else’s narrative. And I also really want to use it as a personal moment of change. In 2016, I threw myself over what felt like an about-to-explode bomb. I ended up absorbing the shock blast from something that was much bigger than me: the waves of destruction that the technological and political changes of 2016 sent through the system. I need to mark this chapter as now over and put back together some of the bits that shattered through this process.

But mostly, the talk is a huge thank you to the people who supported me through my legal trials. The 30,000+ people who contributed to my crowdfunder and held me up. You are the model for what is needed in the next days and years.

This is what we’re up against. This was Palmer Luckey, on stage the day after me. That’s an autonomous missile next to him. He’s a US defence contractor, Trump cheerleader.He got a standing ovation.

In my talk, I could feel waves of hostility coming from some people in the room. TED is ground zero of the AI gold rush. But there was also cheerleading and l’ve been overwhelmed by huge love and support from others who see exactly what is happening. It’s the weirdest time to be here. And it was the weirdest energy from an audience of any talk I’ve ever given. But then, it was intended to make them uncomfortable. Politics is technology now. Silicon Valley is desperate to deny that, but it can’t and no can we.

[rereisstuff]

LOVE HANGOVER !

summary: falling in love with Kim Mingyu wasn’t the best idea.

pairing: idol! Mingyu x idol! reader

note: i mean the reader kinda dumb, kim mingyu a player cause im mad at jim how can he be so cute and so not mine😡☝🏾

your solo was killing it everywhere, idols were asking to film the dance challenges with you, it was a win after win, everything was great.

you were laughing with your crew as you got ready for a performance, suddenly a knock was heard and some staff entered with a huge bouquet of red roses.

ruby roses congratulating ruby <3

you deserve the world, pretty girl - km

the room was filled with squeaks and giggles as you read the note.

you met Mingyu when both were 18, both just debuting and young.

friendships started to grow along your career and suddenly one day one of your friends added you to a getaway, with other of her friends.

the day everything went wrong.

you got together with Kim Mingyu, and although he wasn’t the superstar he is now he was extremely charming.

the problem was that, he was charming whenever he was in the mood.

after intimate moments during that little vacation, you added him in kakao and followed his secret instagram account, then decided to message him but he replied:

we aren’t allowed to date, sorry pretty girl.

the humiliation was horrible and you decided to never contact him again…that until your friend’s birthday.

were things got crazy again.

then, a Calvin Klein after party, in which the real after party was at his newly acquired place.

you found yourself falling again and again.

you knew he was in one of the dressing rooms as a part of you couldn’t contain the emotion of sharing a performance show with his group.

“i talked with seventeen’s manager, you can ask one pr two members to do the challenge with you” your manager entered the room.

the other thing is that nobody knows what goes on between you and Mingyu, only your close friends the ones that introduced you.

you swallowed thickly and walked over the door with their name, knocked and exhaled a shaky breath.

soon you meet Mingyu opening the door, smile dropping a bit in disbelief when he saw you.

“hi Min, can i come in?” you almost whispered, he nodded.

“you look beautiful” he replied quietly as well, stepping aside to let you in.

you greeted and walked straight to Dino and Hoshi, both known for their dancing skills, they agreed.

you filmed and laughed for a bit, forgetting the guy across the room looking directly at you.

“if you don’t decide, someone else will” the stylist said as she saw the look in his face.

“it’s complicated and i don’t want to talk about it” he almost sulked as you were walking out.

Dino was fun, a little young, but fun, he just told you to come to his favorite bar to drink god knows what beverage which you agreed to.

you had a friendly date with Mingyu’s bandmate next sunday.

you almost yelled in excitement and relief, something new was happening, no more Kim Mingyu.

or that’s what you thought till you felt someone tugging your wrist.

a well known front crashed into yours, lifting your head to see and confirm it was him.

“you liked the flowers?” he smiled, soon your legs turned into jello, you was still weak.

you couldn’t talked so you nodded, with a shy smile.

“how about we have dinner, next sunday?”

“i think that’s perfect” you smiled lovingly, he corresponded with one as well.

he bended down and kissed lightly the outline of your lips, making you shiver.

“see you around pretty girl” he came back to his room, leaving you there again, daydreaming.

tomorrow the love hangover will be strong.

[lychgate]

i haven't posted a really poorly drawn thought piece adventure in years so here's a brief update!

hope i hit the read more thing right oh well anyway:

"Spent a lot of time applying for a home loan. I had to pay -fucked up- to have a convincing income for a decent loan. It was very confusing but cody helped me a lot."

"Cody proposed to me It felt wonderful that someone wanted to share their time and love with me. Cody proposed Anthrohio weekend, it's the con we really met at."

"We saw the listing that sunday morning before we had to go to our table to vend."

"It was a perfect house. We were the first people to view it and we immediately put in a bid. And we got the house. Many papers to sign."

"Moving was not easy. It took 2 whole months. Cody was out of town helping their grandma recover from a big surgery and we had to sell their old house/move that as well as move from my apartment. ALSO THE PETS: My cat dick wolf + Cody's 3 birds. Until we could get some doors installed and separate the house, I had to live between two places every day to feed and care for them."

"Still, life was good. I bought my first house! It has a swing in the backyard. I've never had my own backyard. I've never even lived somewhere that had trees (in said yard) It felt nice. Living together with the love of my life and 4 pets."

"Through all this i never closed my shop. How could I? It was my income, and I just bought a house. It needed to stay open. Moving that much inventory, setting up a new office, the house is a nice size but it's not huge, so, very careful organizing had to be executed if I wanted my apparel laid out right. (Which I totally managed to do)"

"but i Did get really good at baking pies. the two are connected."

"sacred_crow on instagram!"

"there's like 25 of u bastards i would absolutely die for, and about 75 more that i would go nearly dead over."

"We have an extra bedroom so I got to turn it into a toy room. There's games, crafts, stuffed animals, movies, a sick loft I painted the shit out of. It rules. It brings me a lot of Joy."

"Under the loft we have a dug out where we can watch VHS tapes. I love to sit with Cody and watch movies and play Donkey Kong."

"I am not good at Banjo Kazooie, but Cody is. Cody is so talented. I love watching them play games. (Depicted is not banjo kazooie but donkey kong country 2 as we are currently playing that. I'm good at DKC but I will still swear and make sounds like im about to throw up)"

"Half the basement is finished, so we turned it into a dual office space. It rules. Cody has a whole side for fursuit crafting, and my side is mostly my gigantic gamer computer area/shipping area. I took a whole wall to put all my non apparel merch like pins charms and notebooks also. for hte love of god someone buy the notebooks they take up more space then i wanted"

"I love to look over from my computer and see cody working. They always look so focused, yet peaceful."

"It's winter but it rains. I miss the snow. I lived by the lakes growing up. I miss piles of snow. It's just wet and cold here. Yes i'm quite aware of global warming"

"I got kicked off both my health and car insurance. I fixed the car one but health insurance still no. All my meds have gone away. The past few months have been hard. I think way too much lately. I can't get myself to do anything. -this is a whole page of downer bullshit and i cropped it!-"

"We had a leaky ceiling that took a month to fix. Cody did all the work because they are smart and kind."

"Oh yeah I had my uterus removed earlier this year. They let me keep it. It's in a jar in my living room."

"We threw a very nice halloween party. I was the green m&m. Cody was the monarch."

"We adopted 8 beautiful kiwis from a crane machine at the mall. we spent over 100 monies to get them but it was worth it."

"

It was a rough year. My health is in decline. Our country may try to end my life for being trans soon (lol?) I am in hte middle of a colossal mental breakdown of my core fundamental behavior (depression advanced) BUT ALSO: I am engaged to my favorite person. We bought a house together. I'm beginning a new chapter of my life. I have a swing in my backyard. The negatives suck but there are also many positives. The cycle of emotions is immense, but there is beauty in it. There is beauty in life, and isn't that wonderful?"

[possum-tooth]

ok i have time now. i can expand on this

having a What Are We talk this morning. throws up :)

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Claimed by the Devil

Small Creatures, Chapter 1

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: When the well-known vigilante of Hell’s Kitchen saves you from disaster, you realize he might mean more to you than you thought.

warnings: swearing, Matt Murdock’s self-destructive tendencies, mentions of a cult and subsequent trauma, allusions to drowning

a/n: This is it, y’all! A Matt Murdock soulmate AU as requested by that poll a few weeks ago. A HUGE shoutout to @zomtart for helping me plan this AU!! I am so excited to share this new verse with you, I really hope you like it! As always, please let me know what you think by replying and reblogging! This chapter takes place about a month before the beginning of Daredevil S2.

w/c: 4.1k

“For small creatures such as we, the vastness is only bearable through love.” Carl Sagan

Since the creation of man, each soul was created with another. Two, sometimes more, mirrored fractions of a whole, destined to forge a bond. Particles of a spiritual atom, drawn to each other by invisible forces, finally satisfied through connection. Soulmates. Each body marked with a symbol, to help them find their other half. Sometimes a word or a shape, a small clue to start their journey.

For a while, that journey was short. It would still take time, of course, to meet your soulmate, to fall in love—but it took less than one lifetime, while the world was still small, the human race still growing.

After a few generations, and centuries of invention, the population began to travel. Groups of people living on all 6 continents, developing new cultures, traditions, languages. As they moved, the average distance between bound pairs grew. It became less common to ever meet your match. Humanity found love in other places, built families on opposite sides of the globe, living their entire existence without their intended.

With each non-bound couple, came children without bonds. Scientists have puzzled over the phenomenon for years, some drawing the conclusion that our biology began to reject the bond, to continue without it as if it was a recessive gene. Through countless wars and plagues, and the continued spread of humanity, finding your soulmate was almost an impossibility.

And then the pendulum swung back. Wars became fewer, food more prevalent, medicine more exact. Lifespans were stretched and, with the help of machines, it was easier than ever to find your soulmate. The damage of an era without them began to repair itself.

Within 5 generations, chances of forming a true bond soared from one in one-thousand to one in thirty.

A sharp vibration from your laptop interrupted the voice in your head. Glancing at the bubble that flashed across your screen, you rolled your eyes at the message. It was the seventh—yes, SEVENTH—in a string of emails from the same haughty woman demanding the pictures of her great aunt's 90th birthday party.

The party was beautiful, and the photos reflected that, but it had been less than 48 hours since the event. Every contract you signed gave you a window of 5-7 business days to edit the photos, more time depending on the length of the shot list you were given and the number of pictures they wanted. If this woman wanted professional, edited photos, she needed to give you a damn break.

Clicking on the small white cross in the corner of the pop-up, you huffed out a small laugh, imagining the fuming woman growing redder in the face when you didn't answer her at 4:02 on a Sunday afternoon. Setting your own hours, as well as being able to ignore frustrating clients during your down time, were just two of the perks of running your own photography business. The flexible schedule and lack of strict routine were a welcomed change after your upbringing in a highly controlled community.

While you did understand why experts used that terminology, you were much more content calling your “community” what it was: a cult. “High control group”—or whatever other politically-correct, secular terminology people wanted to use to describe a bunch of adults deciding to use their limited power to exploit others in the name of some bogus goal—was too polite for the assholes from your hometown. The bumfuck rural town where “religious” leaders congregated to torture dozens of children over a tiny, immovable mark on their skin.

A brand of the devil. That’s what they claimed soulmarks were. The sign of a being destined for evil. And, in order to save humanity from said evil, it was up to this specific community to cleanse you of your threatening aura, to rid the demonic energy from your body and spare your soul.

They’d used written and verbal propaganda, forbid outside contact, relied heavily on fear-mongering—the whole nine yards of brainwashing, all to supposedly grant the town salvation. Given that your particular mark was on the inside of your right wrist? Well, it definitely didn’t help the “damned” accusations coming your way.

Something flashed across your mind. A memory. Tepid water, turning frigid as you were forced deeper and deeper. All traces of oxygen slowly draining from your lungs, your body struggling desperately against the hands gripping you forcefully by the arms, holding you under.

Shuddering with discontent, your mark itched fiercely, as if it was trying to snap you out of the flashback. Absentmindedly dragging a nail over it to quell the unpleasant sensation, you inhaled deeply, studying the image as you did.

It was a simple thing, a series of a few lines just over the pulse point on your forearm. Two triangles, placed horizontally and pointing away from each other, with three small straight lines fanning out beneath. From your limited knowledge, it was a rune of some sort, though you hadn’t been able to narrow down the origin or meaning quite yet. Not scary enough to warrant the actions taken by your wonderful hometown though.

After surviving, and escaping, your upbringing, a lack of a rigid schedule was a necessity—which meant freelance event photography was a perfect career path. Unfortunately, an anxious mind and spontaneity didn't always mix.

It didn't matter that you didn't hear the messaging daily anymore. You were still struggling to unravel the mind games and indoctrination you'd been subjected to, hence the re-reading of this particular article. It wasn't the most informative, and the author clearly had a fully-realized bond herself, but it was the first piece of literature you'd ever read that wasn't propaganda.

There was a historical explanation for the disappearance of your condition, as well as a documented existence of others like you. Your mark didn't make you evil—it meant you were loved.

You re-read the blurb on days like today. Days where your conscience buzzed with apprehension, adrenaline flowing freely despite the lack of danger. There was something in the air around you. A warning, illustrated by the tiniest changes in your environment. On days like these, you felt like a bug beneath a descending shoe, scrambling to understand what was coming so you could make it out alive.

Expecting a disaster was illogical, you knew that. But reason wasn't the driving force in your brain on the anxious days. It was your desperate need to survive, to be prepared. On your bad days, your eyes flew open like you'd heard the door come crashing in or felt the cold steel barrel of a pistol against your temple—your body readying for a fight before you were even fully conscious.

Those days, your heart hammered in your chest, battering your ribs until they ached. Your lungs constricted when your blood pressure rose, each breath coming as a pant as you struggled to inhale enough oxygen. One wrong move and you'd send yourself spiraling into a full anxiety attack. Hopefully, you'd at least be able to stave that off over the last hour of daylight today.

Chewing at the edge of your thumbnail, you aimlessly scrolled through the page again, blowing out a terse sigh. The biggest annoyance when it came to your anxiety was that each experience was unique. There wasn't a universal solution. Sometimes, staying at home where it was familiar and safe was all you needed to settle your nerves. Other times, the constancy only made you more jittery.

As much as you'd wished that a sedentary day would slow your pulse and ease your breathing, that clearly was not in the cards.

Time for Plan B.

Growling almost inaudibly, you resisted the urge to start pulling your hair out strand by strand. Working up the energy to get through the door was always the hard part. As exhibited by your professional side, freedom to roam and choose your own path was vital. Despite your nervous brain trying to deny it, leaving your place to wander on a small adventure would be good for you in the long run.

When you'd escaped the clutches of the nutjobs running your old neighborhood, you'd made a promise to yourself–try at least one new thing every week. It seemed childish, but you'd missed out on so many things when under the control of the Order, you wanted to make up for that. Pretty quickly, it became clear that you thrived on flexibility and exploration.

So you kept up with it. Made a list of things in case you ever ran out of inspiration or couldn't decide what to choose next. That line of scribbles in a worn notebook came in handy on days where you disappeared into yourself, where you lacked the excitement that normally accompanied your little outings. Allowing the intense reluctance in your gut to churn, you reached for the leatherbound pages, sliding the book from where it lay on the coffee table and into your lap. Heaving out a breath, despite your protesting lungs, you thumbed through the paper, letting the smell of ink and coffee-stained parchment wash over you.

You weren't looking for something big. And the idea had to be plausible, there would be no mountain climbing or language learning in a single evening. Trailing a finger to the side of the dried ink, you skimmed each bullet point, eyes lingering on a particularly messy string of words.

“Golden Skyline Ink 48”

Thankfully, the gibberish you'd immortalized was recent enough that you could decipher it. Sunset photos of the skyline from the Ink 48 Hotel. You'd swung by the prestigious building for a meeting with a potential client, but you'd been too busy to snap a decent shot from the roof before your next errand of the day.

Pondering for a minute, you decided to go with your hesitant gut instinct. You craned your neck, hunting down your camera bag as you rolled your shoulder to unravel the tension balled up in them. Shoving up from your horizontal position on the couch, you closed your laptop and shuffled towards the door. Hefting the bag into your arms, you strode down the entryway.

Your hand reached for the doorknob at a snail's pace, halting mere inches from it as if the brass had a forcefield around it. ”You can do this.“ You muttered to yourself, forcing your fingers past the barrier and around the knob.

Stepping through the door, you flinched at the bright fluorescence of the hallway lights, hissing slightly like a vampire seeing the sun in a cheesy TV show. Swallowing the flash of pain in your head as the lights continued to beam down, you took another step. Here goes nothing.

Matt was grateful for the new body armor. He was, really.

He just wished Melvin’s talents included making the damn thing breathable. He’d never admit that, of course. On the spectrum of pain he lived with, being a bit overheated was closer to the bearable end. It wasn’t a stab wound or a broken bone, it wouldn’t impede his patrolling. If he could work through a punctured lung, he could handle a little sweating.

But when the nights got quiet and slow, it was more difficult to keep his mind from latching on to the discomfort–blown out of proportion by his fickle senses.

Sitting atop an apartment building on 55th Street, Matt could feel pure thermal energy bubbling up from the concrete beneath his feet. The waves of heat collided with his shoes, seeping into the rubber soles and blanketing his skin. Around him, the short ledge wrapping around the roof refracted more warmth, sending the sweltering air to smack directly into him.

He wasn't a fan of the heat, never had been, but the thick, skin-tight suit he was wearing only exacerbated the issue. Sweat beaded in the paper-thin gap between his skin and the fabric surrounding it, suctioning it impossibly closer to his body. Grinding his teeth in aggravation, Matt prowled to the edge of the roof, leaping off and rolling to deflect the impact from shattering any of his limbs. With a quick jump, he was back on his feet, taking off towards the next building in the line.

If he patrolled towards the Hudson and back around, he could escape the worst of the heat without neglecting his duty to the city.

Not that there was much action these days. The past handful of weeks, his outings in the suit had been unusually unproductive. It wasn’t that he was missing out on fights–it’s that they didn’t exist. Gangs were staying holed up, petty crime had taken a dive, even the steady drug or arms traders like Turk had gone radio silent. As much as Matt wanted to believe that his time as Daredevil had made a lasting impact on the city he loved so dearly, a current of doubt continued to whirl beneath his skin.

Crime was more likely in the summer, that was an inevitability. Increased temperatures shortened people’s fuses. Spats with loved ones were more likely to turn violent, miscellaneous expenses are more likely to add up and cause financial distress, it was statistically probable that he’d have busier nights leading up to the fall. And yet, here he was, twiddling his glove-clad thumbs while metaphorical tumbleweeds were swept down the streets.

He was confident something had changed, but he hadn’t quite determined what. So, despite the lack of problems he felt the need to solve, he continued to remain out until all hours, ears straining to pick up a scream or the explosive pop of a bullet leaving the barrel of a gun.

Body on high alert, he ambled towards the piers, vaulting from roof to roof in a familiar trajectory while his brain fought off an incoming onslaught of guilt at the notion of staying out. Foggy would be furious tomorrow, when he saw Matt gulping down the cheap coffee from their machine–which was held together by masking tape and sheer luck these days. Matt had foolishly admitted his conundrum to his business partner, remarking that the city had been eerily still lately, that there was less of a need for him. That he’d been searching so urgently for justification that he’d been going out before dusk.

The idea that Matt’s nighttime activity was no longer an absolute necessity had upset the tenuous understanding the pair had reached over said activity. A simple slip of his tongue and Matt was on the receiving end of Foggy’s chastising, being told he should take advantage of the lull and “get some goddamned rest for once”. (Foggy’s words, not his own.) The renewed argument had become such a frequent topic of discussion that Karen had almost been clued in a few times when Matt’s frustration had narrowed his senses. Just that morning, he and Foggy had been going at it when she’d arrived at the office, surprising both of them with her bright greeting and intrigued glance.

Hurling himself to the next rooftop, Matt huffed out an aggravated breath, clenching his fists as his muscles tightened with irritation, his friend’s desperate pleas echoing in his head.

“You can’t keep going like this.”

“You’re hurting yourself for nothing.”

“The city will be fine without you.”

That last one stung the most, ripping open an invisible wound he’d crudely stitched after taking down Fisk. His work had helped people. His infamous alter ego was the final straw in the case against the organized criminal, imperative to his arrest. To the people of this city, Daredevil mattered–which meant Matt Murdock mattered.

If he boxed up the suit…

No. That wasn’t an option. He couldn’t–

The shuffle of a shoe on concrete caught his attention, snapping him out of his downward spiral. His chest trembled as he panted in and out, his shallow breaths deepening as he focused in the direction of the noise. He wasn’t alone.

Mouth parting as his atypical radar closed in, his nose scrunched with slight confusion, brow furrowing with concern. There was a person perched on the brick ledge–a woman, balancing on her tiptoes and facing the city. She hadn’t noticed him, her pulse far too slow. Her hands held something blocky, the plastic object dragging along her skin as she positioned it, arms outstretched over the nearly 20 story drop to the pavement below.

He bit back an incredulous scoff as she bent further towards her death, practically rolling his eyes to the heavens as he approached. Not only was this position begging for disaster to strike, she had one headphone in, her lips moving as if mouthing along to the lyrics. She heaved in a dramatic exhale.

“Let’s try this again,” She murmured, finger slotting into a divot on an edge of the thing in her grasp, prompting a series of mechanical clicks to burst from it. Shutter sounds. A camera. A camera? You were risking your life for a photo?

Before he could judge you too harshly, your mouth twitched and your heart rate jumped. You’d realized he was there, then.

“You know, if you fall off that ledge, the effort you went through for that picture will be wasted.” He quipped, his lips twitching with a hint of a smirk as you squeaked indignantly.

It was only amusing for a moment.

As you whirled to face him, apparently surprised that he was there, you lost your footing, tumbling backward off the ledge.

For what it was worth, your little adventure had been going pretty well before the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen almost killed you.

There weren’t too many people out tonight, probably because it was disgustingly hot, so you’d made good time–jogging the few blocks to the hotel and sneaking into the elevator with a young couple who were too busy being at each other’s throats to care that you slipped in. The roof was vacant and more perfect than you could’ve dreamed. Swathed in the lights of nearby skyscrapers, you were presented with a gorgeous panoramic view of the Manhattan skyline at sunset, the stark red-orange hue of the sky peeking between towering steel.

Once you’d attached the proper lenses, you began snapping photos, but you couldn’t get the exposure to set correctly. To capture a good picture at this time of evening, you needed the settings to be just so. It was a tedious, attention-consuming process, that, when combined with the soft music blasting from your lone earbud, had prohibited you from hearing someone approach…until he spoke.

“You know, if you fall off that ledge, the effort you went through for that picture will be wasted.” His growl was low, but contained traces of a humor you weren’t expecting.

Damn your anxious self for startling so easily. With a tiny squeal, you slipped from the ledge, your careful posture crumbling as you fell. Your heart lodged in your throat, air rushing into your ears as you began to descend, but before you could even scream, a pair of warm hands grasped you firmly by the arm.

Face jerking up, your eyes locked onto the masked vigilante’s snarl of exertion as he hauled you over the cement shelf and onto stable ground.

Breathing shakily, still in his grip, your face went slack with a nauseating combination of shock and relief. “Th-thank you.”

He let out a puff of a laugh. “You’re welcome. That was a close call. Do I need to call a hotline?”

His lips twitched with a smirk, his face clearly displaying humor despite his eyes being covered by a mask. Head tilted cockily, he seemed to be studying you, maybe evaluating whether you should be in a psych ward.

Shaking your head furiously, you scrambled to your feet, nearly tripping over yourself as you backed away from your savior. “No, I’m good, that wasn’t the plan. I just–”

As you began to retract himself from his hold, his thumb brushed over your forearm, tracing the faintest line over your exposed soulmark. When his fingertip made contact with the lines over your wrist, the world exploded.

When you were a small child, you’d electrocuted yourself when unplugging a lamp. It was an act of rebellion against your parents when they had demanded you clean up after compulsory bible study. The inflicted shock had careened through your entire body, feeling as though you’d been dipped in boiling water and then flash-frozen as your body tried to adapt to the new current. An abrupt change of temperature, the suddenness uncomfortable but the aftermath numbingly calm.

Touching the Devil felt like that.

Your mark glowed with warmth like embers in a dying fire. The hair along your arm stood on end, your heart nearly bursting with energy as you were clobbered with a realization.

“You..you’re my–” You whispered, taking a step closer to the vigilante.

His hand had clasped around your wrist, holding it delicately, chin dipping towards his chest. His breaths were labored, his complexion seeming to grow more pale as he ran a calloused finger over the mark again.

“I don’t–” Dropping your arm as if it had burned him, Daredevil’s face settled into an angry mask as he hurriedly stepped away from you. “I have to go.”

“W-what?” You stammered, running your hands over your arms as your body recovered from his touch, goosebumps undulating beneath your palms. “But we–”

“It’s late. You should get home before it’s too dark.” He responded tersely, turning away from you. Striding across the roof, his hand landed on top of the short stack of bricks, head turning over his shoulder with a sorrowful pout. “I’m sorry.”

Gracefully jumping over the side, he was gone.

Feeling dumbfounded and slightly defeated, you stared after him for a minute before shouldering your bag and beelining for the fire escape.

Karen stretched her arms over her head, groaning softly as the knot of tension between her shoulders unfurled. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she jiggled the mouse on the desk before her, turning her laptop back on to try and appear busy. After the law firm of Nelson and Murdock put Wilson Fisk behind bars, the clientele began to pour in–though whether that was for their proven representation skills or their shitty but functional AC, she wasn’t sure. Regardless, there had been a steady stream of walk-ins this week. And now that it had finally slowed down, she felt almost disappointed.

Being a secretary at the tiny little office was one of the most interesting things she’d ever done. Each case presented completely new realities, new opportunities and challenges. It was like she was given the chance to start fresh every day, and she was grateful for it. But in moments like these where the people filed out of the crooked doors, it made her a bit antsy.

Foggy and Matt were buried in new evidence for a guardianship revocation, holed up in Matt’s office, leaving her to schedule their appointments. She sighed, contemplating whether or not to interrupt them, to ask for something to do. Depending on when the guys would be heading out, they might want dinner or more coffee…

As she was running through a list of takeout that all of them could stomach, that hadn’t been ordered too recently, her phone’s display lit up, a new message appearing on the lock screen. An anonymous message in a chat board she frequented–one dedicated to opinions about Hell’s Kitchen’s hero, Daredevil. 

When she joined the board, she was solely intending to be a spectator. Unfortunately, the internet made it easier for trolls to share their bullshit opinions. Call the vigilante a threat to justice. Say that he should be put down. There was only so much she could handle before her blood boiled over and she sent her responses. 

These days, she was a pretty active poster. She rarely received private messages though, so the notification set her on edge. 

Hesitantly tapping the glowing bubble, she held her breath as it opened. No context, no identifying information, just two bizarre sentences that she was not prepared for.

“I know this is strange but..I think Daredevil might be my soulmate? And I was hoping you might know where I could find him.”

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou @screechingphantommaker @spiderstyles04 @paradox-brody-chase

[a-babe-without-a-name]

Sit Next To Me

Chapter 1: To a Good Fucking Semester.

You had created two rules for yourself.

Rule One: You could do whatever you wanted. Get the degree you want, party when you want, cancel plans when you want, love who you want. Whatever you really wanted to do, you were going to do, anxiety and guilt free.

Rule Two: You could do whatever you wanted, except for have relationships with classmates. No sex, no dating. If they were on the same course roster as you, they were off limits.

Easy enough, right?

...Right?

Viktor x Female!Reader - 18+

A.N. Very proud of myself for getting my own thing out of my google docs and onto the internet for once. This is very self indulgent and possibly a little ooc, but it's an AU so who cares?

Also, biggest shout out in the world to @hivemuthur. I am the biggest fan of their writing and I'm obsessed with their fic The Game of Teaching Body. I hadn't even considered writing a college au until I read Teaching Body and now I'm fully in it. I've really regained my love for writing fanfic for myself as opposed to an audience and it's definitely because of them. Anyways, all love to them and if you haven't already, go read everything that they've written asap!

Another Author Note: No smut in this chapter, but chapter 2 is already posted ;)

Read on AO3

You were going to take this semester seriously. Your 5th of your college career, first of Junior year, this was the time to get serious. If you fuck up now, the chances of having to take an extra semester went up by an uncomfortable percentage. Yeah, you were going to take this semester very very seriously…key word were. Then Jayce and Cait decided to throw a party at their house. A huge ‘welcome back’ thing that was sure to be very fun and very well attended. Jayce was one of your closest friends, it would be offensive honestly if you didn’t show up to his first party of the year. Syllabi reviews and practice tests could wait until Sunday. 

You dug through your small closet in search of something to wear that hadn’t already been worn to a dozen other house parties. At this point half your clothing was pulled off their hangers and tossed on your bed. You pulled a light blue baby tee off a hanger, the low neckline was lined with a hint of lace.

“How’s this?” You held the shirt up to show Lest, already ready and scrolling through her phone

“Very cute,” Her freckled face looking at you upside down, “Not with that skirt, though.” She pointed to the button up denim skirt you had put on earlier.

“With what then?” You pulled on the top. 

“Must I dress you everyday,” Lest whined half heartedly.

“Well, yeah. What other reason would I willingly live with a fashion major?” You joked.

“Because you’re in love with me, obviously,” She scoffed, rolling off her bed and straightening her dress as she stood, “Do you still have those black shorts? The boxy ones with the high waist?”

“Er, yes…” You said hesitantly, opening a dresser drawer and digging through your pants until you found them. Next to you Lest began putting your clothes back on their hangers, “Yes, I do.”

You stripped off your skirt, handing it to Lest when she reached for it to hang up, and pulled on the shorts. You looked at yourself in the mirror, content enough with the outfit. It was a little boring, but at least it was comfortable.

“And lose the bra,” Lest poking the side of your boob, looking at you over your shoulder in the mirror, “Trust me.”

You purse your lips in the mirror, but shrugged and took the  suggestion anyways. Reaching behind your back to unclip your bra and toss it to the side.

“Better?” You asked, posing dramatically for her.

“Perfect,” She gave you a dramatic smile, her nose scrunching, “Now grab your stuff, the Uber will be here in 5.”

“Oh, fuck Lest, I’m not ready.” You whined, scrambling around your room to grab your things.

“Well get ready then, we have a party to get to!” She opened your door and gave a cheeky wave over her shoulder as she disappeared into the hallway. 

The party was in full swing when you and Lest reached Jayce and Cait’s house. The front yard was mostly empty, only a few stragglers wandering in and out, but the bass of the music could be felt from the street and colorful lights flashed in the front window. A sudden spark of excitement twisted in your stomach. It had been months since you last spent actual time with most of your friends. You had seen a handful of them in passing during this first week of classes, but you quickly realized that the free hours you had between classes didn’t line up with anyone else's. You missed your people and couldn't wait for another year with them by your side. 

You grabbed Lest by the hand, walking quicker up to the front door. You shoved open the door as much as you could, a wall of awkward freshmen hovering at the entrance blocking the way. You could feel the beat of a Pitbull song in your throat as you moved through the house. You opened the closet under the stairs, a hasty “Housemates Only” sign taped to the door. You and Lest were included in this of course, as were a handful of other friends close to Jayce and Cait. The bags tossed on the floor told you exactly who was here already. You added yours to the mix and continued to push through sweaty bodies in search of your friends. 

You found them in the kitchen. Mel was sitting on the counter, Jayce leaning against the edge between her legs, his back pressed against her chest. Cait was securely under Vi’s arm, hiding her laugh behind the red cup in her hand. You were surprised to see that even Sky had shown up, awkwardly sipping at a can of seltzer and hovering next to Jayce. 

When Mel spotted you pushing through the other people in the kitchen she gasped! Excitedly pushing Jayce away so she could hop off the counter. She squealed your name, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and squeezing harder than a girl her height should be able to. She pulled away and put her forehead to yours, widening her eyes with a dumb grin.

“Hi, Melly-Bear!” You giggled, glad she always kept up with the same silly greeting, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Darling,” Her pretty accent only slightly slurred on alcohol. You could smell something fruity on her breath.

She pulled away, giving you one more hug before letting you go to greet the others. Jayce hugged you as Mel accosted Lest next. 

“Thought you bailed on us,” Jayce laughed, pulling a can out of the ice filled sink and popping it open before handing it to you. Always a gentleman. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” You practically had to shout over the music, “Wardrobe struggles.”

“That’s what you landed on?” Jayce teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Actually it’s what Lest landed on,” You snarked up at him, “Don’t insult the love of my life.”

“I think your outfit is cute!” Sky slurred, looking around Jayce, her cheeks were flushed already. She was definitely drunker than you had thought she was, “and your tits look amazing.”

“Thank you very much Sky,” You said with exaggerated politeness, and then quietly to Jayce, “She’s fucked up.”

“I know, we’re keeping an eye on her,” He nodded, pulling a beer out of the sink behind you.

“Who’s sober tonight?” You asked as Mel rejoined you and wrapped an arm around Jayce’s waist.

“That would be me,” Vi said across from you, raising a half hearted hand.  

““Drew the short straw, huh? Tragic,” Lest said, shaking her head with mock pity.

“She can have fun sober,” Cait insisted, pointedly taking a sip of her own drink.

“Exactly!” You teased, “Well you have your sober fun, the rest of us are gonna do tequila shots.”

“Brilliant idea!” Mel gasped, clasping her hands together.

She got to work, pulling out plastic shot glasses from the cupboard and carefully filling them with the shitty tequila Jayce kept around for when everyone was already drunk. Cait opened the fridge behind her, the bright light from it jarring in the dark kitchen, and pulled out a tupperware of cut up lime. She passed the container and a shaker of salt around, and Mel handed out the little cups, making sure Sky received the one with cold water in it.

“Hey Vi, where’s Jinx and Ekko?” You asked as you took a piece of lime, realizing the youngest members of your little group were missing.

“They’re at that concert,” She told you, taking Cait’s cup so she could hold her shot.

“Oh shit, I didn’t realize it was tonight.” You said, licking the back of your hand and shaking salt onto it.

“Lame, they definitely would have had more fun here,” Mel sighed dramatically, setting down the container of limes and salt after everyone had gotten some. 

“Wait, where’s V?” Jayce asked Cait, she shrugged.

“Who?” Lest asked, taking a small sniff of the tequila and scrunching her nose.

“Viktor, he’s our new roommate,” Jayce said, “I’ve known him forever. He’s the best, y’all will like him.”

He turned looking out into the crowd of people on the other side of the breakfast bar, squinting like that would actually help him find the guy.

“Viktor!” He shouted, when there was no response he tsked, “probably snuck off to his room. Not really a party guy.” Jayce told you with a shrug, “Next time, I guess.”

Your circle of friends gathered a little closer, excited to be all back together again after the boring summer months. Jayce held up his shot, everyone else followed suit.

“To a good fucking semester!” He said triumphantly.

“To a good fucking semester!” Everyone shouted back, lifting their shots just a little higher before licking the salt off their hands and shooting, a round of groans following as they bit into the limes. The fruit did nothing to make the shitty tequila taste any better.  

“Yeah, not feelin’ too bad about being the sober one right now,” Vi grimaced, sipping on an energy drink instead. 

Lest grabbed you by the hand, pulling you to the living room where all of the furniture had been pushed against the walls. With your drink still in hand, you moved with her to the beat of the music. Your focus on each other keeping away any unwanted attention in the crowded space. The other joined you eventually, Sky sliding up to you and Lest. You put your hands on her hips - stiff even when she was drunk - you pulled her closer to you. Lest moved so Sky was between you and her. Sky’s face reddened, the drinks and closeness making her blush creep all the way up to her pretty hairline.

“I’m glad you came out,” You leaned in close so she could hear you, “This is your first party right?”

“Yeah,” She shouted back, beginning to loosen up in your hands, “I’m…I’m so drunk.” She admitted, you could see the apology behind her eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” You told her, “Everyone gets too fucked up the first time they go out, it’s inevitable.”

“Really?” She asked, hopeful.

“Yeah, of course,” You nodded, leaning in further to talk in her ear, your cheek rubbing against hers, “At my first party, I got so drunk off canned wine that I took my bra off and tossed it in someone's pool.”

“No!” She gasped, pulling back slightly to see if you were lying.

“Yep, everyone has to pay their dues to the party gods,” You shrugged, feeling Lest’s hand brush against yours on Sky’s waist, “So don’t worry about being too drunk. Just relax and let yourself have fun. Vi is the responsible one tonight, she won’t let anything happen to you.”

Sky nodded, relaxing into you and Lest. Time blurred as the three of you danced. Mel and Jayce and Cait and Vi somewhere close by. Each song faded into the next, only your favorites standing out. Sometimes the beat of the song would pull you away from Sky and Lest, the three of you wanting more room to dance and move. Others pulled you flush against Sky’s back, your hips grinding against her to the rhythm of the song. The only moments where you stopped dancing was when your drink needed to be replaced. 

Your body was aching by the time Sky stopped moving, breathing heavily.

“I’m gonna go get water,” She shouted over the music, “It’s so hot in here.”

“Okay, do you want someone to go with you?” You asked, still lightly moving to the beat.

“No, I’m okay,” She laughed, shaking her head, “I think I’m gonna take a break…forever.”

“Okay, find us or text the group chat if you need anything, okay?” She grinned and gave a thumbs up as she snaked through the crowd back towards the kitchen. 

You swished your drink around in its can, debating if you wanted another or not.  A heavy hand landed on your shoulder, interrupting the thought. You gasped, yanking your shoulder away and whipping around angrily to whoever grabbed you. 

“Easy there tiger,” Jayce laughed, side eyeing you , “Have you considered this is why you’re single.”

“Have you considered my boot in your ass?” You snapped, but relaxed your shoulders anyways.

“No, but I have considered kicking your ass at rage cage,” He shrugged.

“In your dreams, Talis” You scoffed, following him to the dining table.

Mel was arranging a large cluster of plastic cups on the table, Cait and Vi already cracking cans and pouring a little bit into each. Some freshmen were hanging around, hesitant to join the game. Mel picked up a half empty cup from the center, extending it out to you.

“Your contribution?” She asked, as you peered into the cup. It was already a cloudy mix of beer and seltzer and backwash. You tipped the remnants of your can into the cup. She went around, having the freshman pour bits of their own drinks into the Bitch Cup. 

“Anyone allergic to cinnamon?” Jayce asked, holding up a handle of Fireball with a smirk.

“Ew, why do you even have that?” You grimaced as he poured a shot into the cup.

“What? You don’t fuck with Fireball and Dr.Pepper?” He asked, tilting another shot into the cup.

“Nobody should,” You fake gagged, “But go ahead and keep pouring it in if you love it so much, you’ll be the one drinking it.”

“Delusional,” Jayce shrugged, setting himself up at the other side of the table, tossing one ping pong ball to you and testing the bounce of the other, “You're delusional.”

Mel began explaining the rules to the couple of freshies that hadn’t played before. They nodded with false confidence.

“Wait, where’s V?” He asked, standing up straight and looking around the crowd for his elusive friend again.

“He was here a minute ago,” Violet told him, looking around as well. At this point you weren't sure that he wasn’t a made up guy.

“He keeps disappearing,” Jayce pouted, and then to you, competitive air completely gone in the moment, “I wanted you to meet him. He’s cool, you’ll get along.”

“Jayce, babe, he’s probably out making new friends on his own,” Mel laughed, “You know, that thing people do at parties.”

“Boo, lame. He needs to be friends with all of my friends, first,” Jaye pouted, and then without warning snatched up one of the perimeter cups, downed the contents, and began trying to bounce the ball into it. 

“Oh, fuck you!” You yelped, grabbing a cup and drinking it so quickly you barely tasted what it was. It was cheap beer. The aftertaste clung to the back of your throat, making you cringe as you tried to get the ball in the cup before the other one caught up.

You blinked down at the complete stack of cups in front of you, horrified at the outcome of this game. Jayce shook with laughter across from you, bracing himself on the dining room table. 

“I was set up!” You insisted, gesturing to the freshman that had set the cup to the right of you every time they got it in on the first try, “I don’t even know these kids and they were against me the whole time! What’d you do, Talis? Pay them?”

“Don’t accuse me of bribery!” He gasped, mock offended as he wiped tears away, “This is what you get for being cocky.”

“Fuck you, man, this is misogyny!” You crossed your arms over your chest, pouting.

“Sure is! Now, drink the Bitch Cup like a lady,” He smirked, extending the nearly overflowing red cup. 

You peered into the cup, nauseous spit flooding the back of your mouth at the cloudy liquid. At the look on your face, Jayce hesitated.

“I mean, I like fireball, I don’t mind helping you out,” He could barely hide his cringe as he offered to help. 

“No way,” You snapped, taking the cup. You'd rather have a hangover from hell than anyone's pity, “I’m not a pussy.”

You took a deep breath and began to drink from the cup. Tilting it back as much as you could without dumping it all over yourself. The girls were chanting your name, urging you on. The taste was awful, the burn of the whiskey was worse. Cinnamon and sour beer overpowered your senses as you drained the cup, breathing in through your nose. Little streams of liquid dripped down the corners of your mouth as you neared the bottom. You finished it off with a shudder. Gasping and fighting back the urge to gag, your stomach turning.

 “I’m gonna get water,” You grimaced, dropping the empty cup into the stack instead of dinging it off Jayce’s head like you wanted to

“Proud of you!” Jayce teased as you walked away, you flipped him off with both hands as you backed into the kitchen.

At this point in the night Jayce’s house was at max capacity, and the kitchen was especially crowded. You pushed through people to get to the counter, searching for a clean cup. Only the plastic bag they had come in was left behind, red cups scattered around the counter with varying amounts of liquid in them.

“Animals,” You muttered, huffing at the lack of options and incredible waste. 

You pushed through the crowd again, trying to get to the far side of the kitchen to get a glass instead. You found Sky sitting on the counter, taking down to someone leaning on the counter next to her, a solo cup in her hand. 

“Sky! My sweet baby angel,” You gasped, sliding between her knees and wrapping your arms around her waist in a tight hug. You could feel the liquor from the bitch cup throwing you off balance. You reached up, cupping her face in your hands, “Promise me you will never ever play a drinking game, you’re too good for that.”

Sky giggled, pressing her face to your palm. She didn’t seem any less drunk than earlier.

“That’s water right?” You nodded to the cup in her hand, leaning away from her and bringing your hands down to her knees.

“Yep,” She nodded, extending the cup towards your face, “Want a sip?”

You let her tip some into your mouth, accepting the drink mostly to confirm that it was actually water. Luckily it was.

“Thanks babe,” You said, pulling away and wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. You suddenly remembered she had been talking to someone before you walked up, “But, I’m gonna get my own.”

You looked over to who she was talking to and found yourself a little surprised. He wasn’t someone you recognized, but he looked too old to be a freshman. What really threw you off was the fact that he was intimidatingly beautiful. Even in the low lighting he had the most gorgeous amber eyes and a bone structure that rivaled any model. You realized not only were you caught off guard, but now you were staring. Sky didn’t notice she continued talking about whatever they had been talking about before you showed up, but he did. A small motion of his brows, perfect eyes narrowing just slightly. 

You threw walls up, trying to cover your embarrassment with attitude. You leaned in just slightly, narrowing your eyes as you looked up at him and reached up towards his shoulder. Judging by the way he shifted back slightly, his eyes glancing to your hand with just a little bit of confusion, you were able to trip him up just the same. 

“S’cuse me, Pretty Boy,” You said, your lips forming a crooked smile, “Just tryna’ get a glass.”

His mouth formed a small ‘o’ shape and he stepped over quickly, leaning against Sky’s legs. You opened the cabinet and pulled out a glass. Not acknowledging him as you went through the motions, but very aware of where he was. You grabbed Sky’s knee before walking away.

“Find me if you wanna dance again, okay?” You told her, she gave a squinty smile and nodded before you walked away. 

You heard Jayce’s voice in your head. Have you considered this is why you’re single?

It was just after midnight and the party still showed no real signs of slowing. You and Jayce had tapped out on drinking but were still having a good time. You both leaned near the back door, watching the others play a round of beer pong. Lest and Mel had teamed up against Cait and Vi and unfortunately, due to Vi’s soberness,were getting crushed. You laughed as another ball splashed into a cup on Lest and Mel’s side. 

“Nooo!” Lest whined dramatically, dragging her hands down her perfect face. She picked up the cup anyways, downing the contents and setting it to the side. 

“I think we’re rooting for the wrong team here,” Jayce laughed in the middle of your conversation, swirling red gatorade around in his cup, 

“Hey, unless I’m playing, I don’t take sides,” You held your hands up in defence. 

You and Jayce both looked up at the ceiling pretending to be really interested in the lights when Lest and Mel turned to glare at you.

You dropped the act when they turned away. Jayce laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, honestly, I’m really excited to get a jump on capstone.” He told you, “I mean, we don’t have to technically do anything until next year, but It'll be nice to be ahead, we’ll make more progress for sure.”

“We?” You asked, you hadn’t noticed the plural earlier in the conversation.

“Yeah, now that Viktor transferred we’re gonna do our capstone together!” He was excited to bring up his friend again, “We’ll be doing the same amount of work as we would be if we were working separately, but still, both of our ideas are better when we work together.”

“Ya know, that’s nice and all, but I still don’t believe this Viktor guy exists,” You shrugged, “I mean all night it's been ‘where’s Viktor?’ ‘Where's Viktor?’ But doesn’t he live here? Why haven't I seen him?”

“I swear on my mother he’s real,” Jayce said, rubbing a hand down his face, “He’s not really a party guy, but he said he’d stay and party and meet people. Honestly, I think that lasted about an hour and a half before he bailed. He probably drove down to the pier to smoke a cigarette and listen to Alex Turner or something.”

You scoffed, “Sounds like an interesting guy.”

“Hey, don’t judge him before you see him.” He insisted, “He’s quiet, but he’s not shy or weird, ya know? He’s cool, trust me.”

“Damn, you really have a hard on for this guy,” You teased. Jayce always talked about people like this, you were sure he saw his friends the same way as he saw stars in the sky.

“Hey, I won’t deny it. If I was into guys, he’d be the one for me.” Jayce assured, and then backtracked when Mel shot him a look, “IF, I said. But I’m not, I’m not into girls either, not unless their name is Mel Medarda. I’m Mel-Sexual.”

“Okay, reel it in a little bit,” Mel said, rolling her eyes but laughing with him anyways.

You were about to suggest a study hangout on Sunday night, it would be a good chance to both confirm that Viktor was in fact real and get your practice tests done before class. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, the sliding door opened and a couple of boys fell into the house. In their drunken shoving of each other as they came in, one slammed right into Jayce’s back causing his drink to splash almost completely onto you. You curse, wiping red Gatorade off your chin.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” He said hands hovering front of him for a moment before he rounded on the boys, they didn’t even acknowledge what happened, “Okay fuckers, you’re done.” He grabbed both of them by the back of the shirt and began hauling them towards the door, “Go home, no more Rune Street Parties for you two.” 

“Oh shit,” Lest said, inspecting the mess on your shirt, the red dye of the drink splashed dramatically over the blue fabric.

“Damn, I just got this top,” You pouted as Jayce came back.

“Dude, I am so sorry,” He rubbed his forehead, “I should have kicked them out sooner, they’ve been obnoxious all night. Listen, I have clothes in the dryer, you can go throw your top in the wash and steal a t-shirt.”

You thought for a second, wondering if the $15 shirt was worth the trouble of Jayce’s offer. You sighed and nodded.

“Okay, thanks,” You frowned, the drink making you feel sticky.

“Of course, you remember how to use that washer, right?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’ll just do a quick wash and come back when it’s done.” You told him, sliding open the door.

“Yeah, text me if you need anything.” He told you as you stepped into the backyard. 

This past summer you had done summer research until the end of June, during that time you had sublet a room in the house. Grateful to not have been holed up in a hotel room for a month. It was a great house, almost perfect even. Its only real quirk was the fact that the washer and dryer were installed in a small garage at the very back of the yard. There were a few people milling about, smoking and drinking on the deck, but the further you got into the yard, the less kids were around. Everyone in the house smoked in the garage, it was comfier than sitting in the weather sometimes, and kept the neighbors from complaining. 

The garage wasn’t off limits to anybody, but unless Jayce invited people in, it usually went unused during parties. No one thinking to look inside for a place to sit. Tonight, though, you could see the light inside turned on. The warm light shining through the thin curtains Cait had put up. 

You paused outside the door, listening for what might be happening on the other side. When you were sure that you weren’t going to walk in on anyone fucking, you went inside. You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth.

Pretty Boy was sitting on one of the couches shoved into the small space. He didn’t react to you opening the door, the wired earbuds he was wearing prevented him from hearing you. You took a moment to look at him in better lighting without being caught. His head was tipped against the back of the couch, eyes closed. His dark lashes bushed against the top of his cheeks that were flushed with just a little bit of pink. The lines of his jaw and throat were perfect, a couple of beauty marks standing out against his pale skin. One hand was tapping out the beat on the arm of the couch, smoke slowly rising half gone joint between his fingers. You wondered if his hands were warm or cold. 

‘Okay creeper’ You thought to yourself shaking the thoughts away from your head, ‘that’s enough.’

You shut the door harder than you normally would, unable to think of another way to get his attention. He furrowed his eyebrows and sat up, finally looking at you by the door. He pulled his earbuds out.

“Hey Pretty Boy,” You smirked, not letting yourself be pinned under his gaze.

“What happened to you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You realized that you hadn't heard him speak earlier in the house, the accent he had was interesting. He tilted his head, waiting for a response.

“Oh, uh, Jayce happened,” You scoffed, shaking your head and pulling the bottom of your shirt away to look at the mess, “I’m sure he’d cover my entire life in Red-40 if he could.”

“Hm, unfortunate,” He muttered, “It’s a nice shirt.”

“Well hopefully drowning it in Tide will save it,” You shrugged, opening up the washing machine. 

He watched as you grabbed a Metallica t-shirt out of the half folded basket of laundry on the counter. You were sure Jayce had never listened to a Metallica song in his life. Pretty Boy continued to watch you as you held the shirt in your hands, fidgeting and staring at him awkwardly. When he didn’t take the hint, you turned your back to him fully and peeled the sticky shirt off. You wished you could do something about the Gatorade dried on your skin before putting on the clean shirt, but oh well.

When you turned around he was looking the other direction, but you could see that his face was flushed red all the way to his ears. You snorted, rolling your eyes at him. The fastest cycle on Jayce’s washer was still 25 minutes. Not ideal, but it’d have to do. You tossed the stained shirt into the drum, poured a little too much detergent in, and started it up. 

“Hm, you better work, bitch.” You whispered to the machine, suddenly worried about the fate of your top.

“Are you talking to the washer?” He turned back around to face you.

“I’m encouraging her.” You said seriously, sitting on the other arm of the couch, “There’s, like, 25 minutes on the cycle, cool if I wait here?”

“I’m not going to stop you,” He said, placing the joint between his teeth and relighting it. 

The cherry glowed as he inhaled, smoke pouring out of his perfect nose as he exhaled. He looked back over to you, extending the joint out, both an offer and question. You considered for a second, before taking it. The way he held it to you didn’t allow enough skin contact for you to tell what his hands felt like. They were pretty up close, slender but not dainty. 

“So,” You began, sliding off the arm to sit more comfortably and taking a hit, “Why’re you out here all alone, Pretty Boy?”

“Hm, didn’t like the music,” He said casually, picking at the frayed edge of the couch cushion.

“Nobody actually likes party music,” You laughed, dragging your knees to your chest and resting your chin against them, “It’s just to drown out any thoughts that the alcohol didn’t already get rid of.”

“Very introspective,” He nodded. You weren’t sure that it was.

“Well, what’re you listening to instead, then?” You glanced down at his phone next to him, music still playing faintly through the earbuds.

He picked up the phone and yanked the cord out. 

“-er’s lovers to be had, those walls will make sinners out of such lovely lads,” played out of the small speakers.

“Oh, this is a good one,” You nodded along to the Arctic Monkeys song, smirking when you said, “Definitely better than David Guetta. Playlist or album?”

“Album,” He told you, accepting the joint back after you took another hit.

“So you’re the kinda guy to hide away in the garage with British indie rock and bad weed?”

“First of all, it is not bad weed, it is subpar weed,” He defended, “And second, I’m not hiding. If I were hiding, I wouldn’t have been found.”

“Kinda seems like you’re hiding,” You shrugged, taking back the subpar weed, “I mean, Sky seemed real interested in you and you’re out here instead of with her.”

“Sky went home actually,”

“And you didn’t go with her?!”

“Her roommate took her home, she was smashed.”

“Sky doesn’t have a roommate.” You told him, furrowing your eyebrows.

“What?” He sat upright, horror on his face.

A crooked grin plastered your face, “Kidding, kidding.”

“That was very fucked up,” He huffed, putting a hand to his forehead as he fell back against the couch.

“Sorry, it was too good an opportunity to pass up,” You hid your laugh against your knee, “l am glad Sky got home, though. Her roommate is a little weird, I’ve never seen her at a party before.”

“Her? I thought Sky’s roommate was a man?” Pretty Boy tilted his head and your stomach dropped, you were sure you’d never be able to breathe again before a cheeky smile tugged at his lips.

“Fuck you, Pretty Boy.” You gasped, dropping your forehead to your knees, heart hammering like you’d just run a marathon.

“I’m sorry,” He laughed, and then, “it was too good an opportunity to pass up.”

“I deserved that,” You blinked, lips pursed.

Realizing the joint had gone out, you swiped a lighter off the table. You sat criss cross on the couch facing him.

“Still,” You said around the joint as you lit it, “Fucked up or not, she seemed to like you alot, probably wound’t have minded you around.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes as you steered back towards that line of thought, “Sky is nice.”

“Ouch,” You cringed, “Sky is nice…but?”

“She is nice, but she’s… too nice,” He said slowly, trying to find the right words, “She’s amazing, but definitely the kind of girl who would want to marry the first guy that fucks her.”

“You’re assuming she’s a virgin?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Tell me, is my assumption wrong?” He asked with a tight smile, like he already knew your answer.

“Well, no,” You ducked your head, “But don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“Said what?” He raised an eyebrow, you snorted a laugh at the response, “And hey, I think it is absolutely fine if people want to marry their first. I, however, am not, eh, compatible with those kinds of people.”

“That’s fair,” You scoffed, passing the joint back over to him. 

You didn’t realize the high creeping in during your conversation. It was on you know, though, clouding your brain and making your head feel heavy and your thoughts chase eachother in circles. You shifted again, moving to sit properly on the couch, the heels of your hightops propped on the edge of the messy coffee table. Pretty Boy was back to tapping along to the beat of his music, equally as stoned. You felt the threadbare fabric under your fingertips, hand gliding across the couch cushion next to you as you zoned out. When your movement produced a crackling package sound, you stopped. Head lolling as you frowned and lifted your palm. The spiky edge of a packet was sticking out from between the cushions. You pulled it out.

“Ha!” You snorted a laugh when you realized what it was.

“Hm?” Pretty Boy hummed next to you, looking over.

“Pokemon cards,” You and Jayce had gotten these at a gas station sometime last year, wanting to learn how to play, “I forgot about these.” 

You pulled the cards out of the already torn wrapper, only four remained. You turned over the first card, a Solrock. 

“Smash or pass?” You snorted and held the card out for Pretty Boy to see.

“Pardon?” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Smash or pass?” You insisted, like you were asking him the time of day.

“I don’t understand.” He told you, shaking his head.

“Would you have consensual sex with - smash- this being, or not - pass-?” You explained.

“It’s…it’s a- what even is it?” He looked at it in almost horror.

“It’s Solrock, duh. It’d be warm,” You offered, “C’mon, it’s not like you have to marry it,”

“Pass,” He said with a heavy sigh.

“See, was that so hard?” You teased, holding up the next card, “Xatu, smash or pass?”

“That’s a bird.” 

“He’s a handsome bird, very stoic and responsible looking.”

“”Wait,” He stopped you, “You didn’t tell me your decision, that is not fair. Smash or pass Solrock?”

“Oh, pass for sure,” You told him, “the spikes are too obvious, who knows where they’ve been.”

“You thought too much about that,” He plucked the Xatu card from your hand, looking at it closer, “ What about this one?”

“Like I said, stoic and handsome, smash.” 

“Hm, interesting.” He handed the card back to you, “Pass.”

“Lopunny, smash or pass?” You said, smirking as you flipped the next card because you knew exactly what he would say.

“Eh, pass…” He said, hesitation clear.

“Nah, don’t lie,” You teased, “I won’t tell anybody. Just admit you want to fuck the sexy rabbit pokemon.”

“Nope, pass,” He tried to hold firm, but your expectant look drew a groan. He dropped his head into his hands, “...smash.”

“I knew it,” You poked his side, grinning, “Me too, smash all the way.”

“If you tell anybody,” He warned, holding a finger up at you.

“I just told you I’d smash Xatu,” You deadpanned, flipping over the last card. “Which is definitely more controversial. Here, last one.”

You held up the Onix card to him, “Smash or Pass?”

“It’s a rock worm,” He scoffed, “Pass, clearly.”

“First of all, he’s a rock snake,” You cleared up, “And second, smash.”

“What!?” His mouth fell open, blinking at you.

“Look at his face! It’s about the emotion,” You defended, “He looks…determined, driven. Attractive qualities.”

“Sometimes I wish I could be in other people's heads,” He scoffed, relighting the joint once more, “Just for a minute.” 

“It’s better you stay in your own pretty head,” You told him, smirking as you lent back against the sofa. You didn’t realize it but over the course of your silly little game you had gotten very close. Your shoulder was practically behind his, you could smell his cologne and feel the heat of his thigh pressed to yours, “You’d never be the same once being in mine.”

“Jasně,” He muttered as you blew smoke out of his nose again, handing the joint over to you. 

You took a hit. Curiosity getting the better of you, you asked, “Where are you from?”

“Česko,” He looked down at you, face closer than you expected, “You people call it Czechia.”

“Oh, where is that?” You had heard of the country, but couldn’t think of where it was exactly.

“In Europe.” He told you, his pupils were blown out.

“I know that,” You scoffed, bumping your shoulder against his and rolling your eyes, “Where in Europe? I’m bad at geography, explain it to me.”

He smirked softly, you could imagine his accent saying ‘Americans’ in your head, “It’s East of Germany, South of Poland, west of Slovakia and North of Austria. It’s in central Europe.”

“Hm, okay, see that was helpful,” You said, gesturing around with your hands, “What brought you to the U.S.?”

“Piltover, specifically the engineering program,” You weren’t surprised, that was why most people attended the University of Piltover, “You ask a lot of questions.”

“You think that’s a lot?” You snorted, “I can ask plenty more.”

“Eh, not necessary,” He protested with a flit of his hand, as you began asking him rapid fire questions.

“What year are you?”

A moment, and then a resigned, “I’m in my 3rd year.”

“How old are you?”

“22.”

“Cats or dogs?” 

“Neither, really, but cats if I have to pick.”

“Tea or Coffee?”

“Whatever is available as long as it’s highly caffeinated.” His lopsided smile grew a little with each question, the game of feigning annoyance over. 

“Ah, a true STEM student,” You raised your eyebrows and laughed, leaning against him for a moment before pulling away, “What’s your favorite color?”

“Today, light blue. Tomorrow, who knows.” 

“Do you want to make out?”

-----

Chapter 2

[thisismeracing]

okay but a request for a new face around the paddock and Lando having a huge crush and gets some assistance to ask her out 😔

Hi, love!! <3 Since you didn't specify if it was a smau, a blurb, or a full imagine, I decided to go with a blurb, 'key? I hope you like it!! *mwah*

New girl | LN4

― Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (sher/her) ― Warnings: mentions of alcohol, getting stuck on the roof, and typos; ― my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ― check some exclusive pieces here ― you can support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Someone was playing early 2000s remixes, the sound escaping to the roof where Yn was sitting, nursing a half-full red cup. She was a bit tired. It was her first week attending a race, and things were more hectic than anticipated, though Charles told her it was crazy when you weren't used to the pace.

Still, she was looking for the next Sunday. The next plane ride, the next country to explore.

"Oh- hey," Lando waved after opening the door and finding her sitting in one of the small couches. His face read surprise with a tinge of confusion, but, in reality, he knew she would be there. Carlos told him as much. His friend actually encouraged him to go after her. Lando was infatuated the second he saw her, and when he discovered she was Charles' friend he was quick to ask Carlos for help, which coming to think about now wasn't the best idea.

Maybe he should have asked Charles instead. He probably knew her better. She was the new girl for Carlos too, having just met her the same day Lando did. Or just tried to get to her without any help, but then again, she was so beautiful and so cool, he felt like the whole paddock stopped the first day Yn showed up, though rationally he knew things kept going as usual. He was the distracted one.

"Hi," she waved back, a small smile gracing her lips before she took the cup to her lips sipping whatever drink she was nursing.

"Can I- huh- Can I stay here too?"

Yn nodded, "It's a bit packed in there, huh?" she asked before patting the spot beside her. "Carlos told me I could get some air here instead of in front of the house, the air is flowing good there, but there's still too much noise- and drunk people," she ranted, and Lando thought it was cute the way she would explain things he hasn't even asked yet.

"I'm Lando," the British extended his hand to her, and they shook it right before she said her name as if wasn't etched on his mind, and he sat beside her.

"I know," there's a hint of amusement in her voice. "There's only twenty of you, and you happen to be really close to my friend's teammate."

He chuckled, taking a pull from his beer, and sensing someone behind him. When Lando turned he saw Carlos and Charles at the door, and before he could stop them both, the noise of the door closing echoed around.

"Shit."

"Was it the door?" Yn asked, getting up.

"I think the wind closed it," he tried to keep it cool, even though he was finally understanding why Carlos had asked to borrow his phone.

"Can you call one of the guys to open it up?" she asked, and then added, "For when we want to get back...I'm fine for now."

He smiled, and then his face twisted in a grimace, "I forgot my phone with the guys."

"Mine doesn't have any signal here," she stated, but didn't seem too worried.

"Do they know you're here?"

Yn nodded, "You?"

"Carlos will probably come looking for me any minute now," he tried to convince himself, taking another pull from his beer.

They sat in silence for a beat, the wind making their cheeks cold and the noises of the party muffled by the distance, until Yn started talking about racing, Lando following the train, catching the ride and the opportunity to talk with her and not embarrass himself trying to figure a good topic.

"How do you keep up with all the traveling?"

He chuckles, "Sometimes you don't."

"Oh-"

"Yeah, it can be tiring for the drivers as well, but we just...get used to it I guess. Most of us- all of us, have been driving since we were kids."

"mmhhh, so a bunch of outlaws?"

"What?"

"Driving when it wasn't even legal yet," and she answered with a straight face, no hint of amusement, so much Lando thought she was talking serious, and when he opened his mouth to explain, a nervous look crossed his features, Yn started laughing.

"That was a terrible joke, but you fell for it so..."

"Horrible," he shook his head with a small smile, tipping his bottle upon his mouth. "How about you? How are you keeping up? Are you coming for the next race?"

"I'm exhausted. But I'm also excited about the next stop. I'm definitely joining. I'm just getting my maps ready because Ferrari has a bunch of media stuff this next week and Charles won't be able to be a huge company in exploring...not that he was a big one this last week, but, yeah."

"I can go with you...that is if you want, I can keep you company, I know the next stop pretty well, I used to go there on vacation with my family during my teenage years," Lando shoots his shot, half expecting her to let him down gently, but Yn gifts him with a bright big smile.

"Would you?"

"Yeah, totally."

"Perfect then," she crossed her legs sitting more comfortably on the couch, neck resting on the headrest, while she watched the dark sky above them. "Now, tell me about your side gig- Carlos told me you're into DJ stuff?"

Lando crossed his legs too, his shoulders aligned with hers, staring at the sky as well. He turned his head to the side, and she was already looking at him. He bit his lips to keep the infatuated smile from showing and started telling her about the things he liked to do besides racing. Yn shared with him as well. She told how she and Charles had met, how she loved music, and though she was into sports, she didn't practice any. She told him about her family, studies, and job. And Lando listened to everything attentively, feeling his silly little crush grow with each giggle and look she shared.

A couple hours later, when Carlos and Charles went to check, Yn had her head on Lando's shoulder, both were sound asleep on the couch. The Ferrari duo snapped a picture, and a high five for playing cupid to what would eventually become one of the paddock's favorite couples.

[theanimeroom]

Do you think you could do a NSFW on kazutora please, I just saw this picture and couldn't help but think about how perverted he is and how lonely he is, so what if we found him like this.

the moment i clicked on that picture i got kazu brain rot give me a minute 😖

MINORS DNI || NSFW BELOW THE CUT

this is never where you thought you’d end up.

you’d always imagined what it would be like to start college when you were younger. you wondered where you’d go, what you would do, what people you would meet, you even planned out exactly what your dormitory room would look like when you finished decorating.

the moment you finally stepped into your new life, walking into your new bedroom for the next year, you could feel your imagination coming to fruition. despite all the daydreams and extensive planning you went through to prepare, you never really thought past your first year of freedom.

now, four years in and almost a college graduate, you’ve found yourself in a spacious apartment with your now best friend, kazutora hanemiya. you’d both met during your sophomore year, your roommate at the time, emma, introducing you to him at a house party you were attending. you two hit it off pretty quickly, immediately becoming glued to each others side for the rest of the night, and pretty much every day after that. you spent the next two years getting close to each other until one day, kazutora offered to be your roommate after you expressed your distaste for the prices of the off campus apartments. knowing him and recognizing that it would make your life a lot easier, you agreed rather easily.

living with kazutora was rather simple, thankfully. he was somewhat tidy, always cleaning up the living spaces but constantly leaving his bedroom a hot mess. you didn’t care though, being content with the fact that he at least cleaned the main areas whenever you couldn’t. he was also quiet, you barely ever noticed when he was walking around the house until you were being startled by a hand reaching above you to grab a snack from the cabinet. you even made a ritual out of your sunday nights, always making a huge bowl of popcorn and watching every movie that you could think of until someone passed out from sleep deprivation.

the only downside that came with being so close to your roommate was that you never really got the chance to hang out with him when finals came around. you would both get so wrapped up in studying and finishing your assignments that you would barely see him in a week, let alone every day. along with this being your graduation year, that meant that you had a thesis that needed to be completed before the end of the semester, which left you with no choice but to hole yourself up in your room while you tried to perfect your work.

on this particular day you decided to work in the campus library rather than your home, growing stir crazy and weary of the four walls suffocating you. it was late, the sun long gone and being replaced by the reflection of the moon and stars. your eyes were straining from staring at your computer screen for so long, and after a 10-second too long blink, you knew that it was time to wrap up for the night. yawns and fatigued sighs constantly left your lips as you drove back to your apartment, mind racing with thoughts of your pajamas and duvet that were anxiously awaiting you.

the moment you stepped into your apartment, you could feel your shoulders slack in relief. “kazu, i’m back!” you called out, making sure to say it just loud enough for him to hear, but not too loud in case he’d fallen asleep. you knew that kazutora was also busy with his own final exams coming up, seeing him every so often with his nose in a textbook around the house, or even being told about his study sessions right before he walked out of the house.

when you were only met with silence, you silently maneuvered around the house, making sure not to be too noisy in your wake. you dragged your feet to the stairs, feeling your sleepiness kicking in with every footstep.

well at least someone went to sleep at a decent time, it’s almost 3am.

your thoughts plagued you as you tried to keep your eyes open, not paying any mind to the slight crack in the bedroom door across from yours. when you finally made it to the top of the staircase, a small whimper reverberating through the hallway caught your attention. you peeled your drooping eyes open, eyebrows furrowing as the sound filled your ears again. your gaze was diverted to kazutora’s bedroom, where the ajar door exposed the blue hue of kazutora’s room. with a slight pause, you tried to listen for another noise, wondering if you’d just started hallucinating for a second from exhaustion.

“no,” a whiney voice muttered quietly, and you knew immediately that you were in fact not hallucinating.

taking a step towards the door, you contemplated on what you should do.

is he having a nightmare?

another heavy sigh leaves the room, and you finally decided to check on him for fear of him being in trouble.

“kazu…?” you asked, standing behind the door where you couldn’t be seen or see inside. when you heard kazutora whine again, you got a bit closer. “kazu are you okay?”

you decided to peek inside just for a moment, your eyes clearing the edge of the door until you caught a glimpse of your best friend, causing any and all fatigue to be wiped away from your stature without a trace. your eyes widened as you took in his figure; eyes locked shut and brows furrowed, skin tainted red as his hand shuffled in the confines of his sweatpants. there were a box of tissues laying next to his body that was propped up against his headboard, random pieces of the cloth crumpled along his sheets as his hips lunged off the bed. there was another whine, this one unintentionally going straight between your legs.

the wire of his headphones laid against his chest, sliding along the toned pecs with every heavy breath that escaped him. you were frozen in place, eyes wide and mouth watering as you shamelessly watched your best friend jerk off. a small part of you felt bad for playing the role of peeping tom, but when he was making such pretty noises, you weren’t exactly sure how you were supposed to react.

kazutora’s head jerked to the side, more than likely a reaction from whatever was playing into his ears right now, before a more guttural sound penetrated your own, the deep groan sounding like it came from the deepest parts of his chest. another whine slipped from him immediately after, his face contorting into something that looked almost like he was in pain.

he sounds so pitiful, fucking hell.

it looked like he was struggling, a small pout taking over his lips as his hand started to move spastically in his sweats, urgently trying to force himself into a release.

you found yourself taking a small step forward, your body moving instinctively without taking your eyes off of your best friend.

what am i doing? i really should get some help.

your intrusive thoughts didn’t stop you from quietly approaching him though, the dampness of your panties taking over your brain. you knew that this was a line that shouldn’t be crossed, you knew that this could potentially ruin everything that the two of you built for the past 3 years. but you also knew that kazutora was quite an intriguing person.

you knew he was attractive from the moment you laid eyes on him, and after having your first conversation, you were pretty much whipped for the man regardless. it was only when you’d become closer to him that you’d buried your lust in the deepest parts of your mind, hopefully to never be seen again, until today.

you didn’t want to jeopardize your friendship, not now, but when he was being so shameless, how were you supposed to control yourself?

you stopped your approach when you were hovering over the male, a close up look of the desperation painting his face leaving your cunt clenching around nothing. you watched him for another moment, taking in the sight before a manicured finger brushed the material of his sweatpants against his thigh.

with a sharp gasp kazutora nearly launched himself off of the bed, eyes looking like they were about to pop out of his head from fright as he ripped the headphones from his ears. you didn’t move as he scrambled to take his hands out of his pants, breathing labored and face even more red than it was before you made yourself known.

“sorry,” you couldn’t stop the small grin that plastered itself onto your face as you spoke. “i called your name but… i guess you couldn’t hear me.”

“y/n what are you doing??? you scared the shit out of me,” he chastised, not even acknowledging the position he found himself stuck in.

you put on a nonchalant visage before shrugging your shoulders, placing one of your knees against the cushion of his bed. kazutora pushed himself further against his headboard, mentally questioning what you were doing right now without ever taking his eyes off of you. “i was coming to check on you because i heard rather…. questionable noises coming from your room.”

“and now that you know what they were, you can leave now, right?” he asked, his eyes pleading with you to just forget everything you just saw and pretend like it never happened. he fidgeted in his spot, legs moving every so often and gaze constantly averting yours. you’d never seen the man like this before, but it lit something inside of you that you didn’t even know existed. wondering just how far you could take this, you decided to press your luck just a little bit.

“and what would be the fun in that?” you chuckled, placing one hand on the thigh closest to you before digging the pads of your fingers into the material covering his skin. “besides, weren’t you having a bit of trouble finishing the job?”

your question made his ears turn bright red, silence taking over him as you slowly climbed your way into his lap. you didn’t miss the way his breath hitched when you made yourself comfortable, seating yourself right on the throbbing bulge between his legs. kazutora watched your every move, but never made a motion to stop you. you decided to test the limits when you placed a hand on his chest, applying a bit of pressure as you carefully rolled your hips against his.

the moan that came out if the man under you was something deadly, the sharp sound piercing your ears in a way that you could only describe as delightful. the longer you played with kazu the more you found yourself losing your cool, listening to his sounds of pleasure and shock and knowing that it was you who made him lose it this way.

“w-wait, y/n…” he said, hands trying to keep themselves at bay.

“c’mon kazu,” you smiled, biting at your lower lip. kazutora’s eyes were glued to where your crotch slid against his, the friction of your hips doing so much more for him than the audios he was listening to previously. he watched as you rocked against him, his legs twitching and hips bucking up for more with every movement. you leaned in slowly, closing the distance between your faces before you lifted his gaze to yours. his pupils were blown wide, a lustful gaze clouding his face. “won’t you let me help you out a little bit?”

you could feel his breath fan against your lips with every heave, and you wondered in that moment just how good his lips would feel against yours. you stalled right before your lips could touch, your eyes locking with his one last time for a final confirmation.

kazutora paused for a millisecond before eyeballing your semi-parted lips. “you know there’s no going back after this?”

you could tell he was having the same reservations as you, but you held your resolve and nodded your head. the moment you saw that flicker in his eye, you knew you had him hook, line, and sinker. “fuck it.”

his lips smashed against yours the moment the words left his mouth, a soft grunt slipping past your mouth and into his at the pressure. the kiss felt even better than you had imagined it to be, the softness of his bottom lip between yours left your brain fuzzy and body warm. you grabbed at his dark locks as you rocked your body against his once more, huffing out a weak moan as the slick lining your panties rubbed against your clit just right.

your tongue swiped at his lower lip, humming when he parted his lips to allow you in. he tasted like mint mixed with a hint of beer, probably a result of the last study session he had with his classmates in a nearby cafe a few of hours earlier. you relished the smooth glide of his tongue against yours, swallowing every needy sound that escaped his mouth.

his fingers twitched against the sheets as he watched you use him for your own pleasure, his eyes darkening as he tried to resist digging them into your waist. your parted your lips from his with a sloppy smack, peering into his eyes as you glide your hands along his shoulders, down to the dips on the inside of his elbow, before wrapping your own fingers around his hands and placing them onto the soft skin of your waist.

“don’t be scared, kazu,” you spoke softly, keeping your faces only an inch apart as you continued to guide him. you listened to the way his breath caught in his throat as you dragged his hands up your body, pausing when the palms of his hands were wrapped around your breast, the thin layer of the tank top you were wearing leaving little to the imagination. with a soft squeeze you rolled your eyes back, relishing in the feeling of his hands on you. with a soft exhale you leaned into the man’s grip, bringing your lips as close to his ear as possible. “you can use me however you want to get off.”

turns out, phrasing it as “however” he wanted wasn’t the best idea. the moment the words slipped past your lips you were immediately flipped onto your back, the feeling of sharp teeth digging into the flesh of your neck. he bit and sucked on every area that he could find, hands covering every expanse of you. the ghost of his touch made your back arch, aching deeply for the feeling of his cock filling you.

you were so overstimulated that you didn’t even register the feeling of his fingers slipping down your naked lower half, not even sparing your swollen clit a passing touch before he shoved two fingers into your sopping cunt. your eyes immediately touched the back of your head, hands crumpling the fabric of the pillow under your head. violent curses rang out from you as he wasted no time in curling them upwards, ramming the pads of the digits into that spongy area that left you seeing stars.

“sorry princess,” he huffed through labored breaths. you weren’t sure whether he was fucking you or if you were fucking him at this point. he arched his wrist once more, relishing in the feeling of your walls squeezing around his fingers. “i’m in a rush too, but i gotta get you ready. don’t wanna hurt you.”

kazutora placed another few kisses against your neck, lips traveling across your body until he was hovering between your legs, eyes glancing up as you followed his movements. with another curl of his fingers, you rolled your hips.

your best friend lowered his head, pressing a light kiss against the hood covering your clit. your hips jerked at the action, barely even having time to register the initial touch before your clit was enveloped into his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue along the sensitive bundle of nerves. you gasped, hands weaving into his hair as his ministrations shot straight to your lower belly. his fingers continued to poke and prod at your g spot, your moans taking over the sounds of your essence leaking over his hand. he pulled away for a moment, a discontent whine leaving you at the loss of pleasure. “can’t let my baby get hurt trying to take me, now can i?”

your heart sank at the statement, your eyes peeling open to glance down at the bulge pressing against his sweats. you knew from sitting on it that it was at least a bit girthy, but you also knew that the man wouldn’t say anything that he knew wasn’t true. especially in a situation like this.

and pleasantly surprised you were when kazutora had pulled his lips away from your clit, leaving your breathless form laying haphazardly against the bed while he finally slipped of his sweats and underwear. you’d only noticed it when the man himself had brought you back down to earth, hand gripping your jaw before pressing his lips against yours roughly. you could taste your essence on his tongue as he dragged the tip of his cock against your folds, your body jerking when it brushed against your clit.

at the first ounce of pressure as he slid inside of you, you knew that this man was much bigger than whatever you’d imagined. peeling your heavy eyes open to glance down at where you two were connected, your gaze was something akin to horror as you watched the fat tip bully it’s way into your pussy. the first couple of inches left your cunt clenching down at the pressure, the burn making your face contort.

“i know baby, i know,” kazutora muttered softly, face tucking itself into the crook of your neck as he tried to pace himself. he placed light kisses over what are soon-to-be bruises, waiting until your rapid breathing had calmed down before pressing in some more. “that’s why i had to prep you.”

no amount of prep could have saved you from this, but there was no stopping as kazutora filled you to the brim, hips flush against each other. the man’s cock reached places in your body that you didn’t even know existed, the pressure of him filling you to the brim being enough leave your head spinning and body twitching. your hips instinctively rolled in search of more friction, feeling the man’s cock throb as he reached impossibly further into you.

the first thrust of his hips forced a guttural sound from your throat, the next one getting caught behind the phantom sensation of his tip breaching your throat.

“f-fuck!!” your voice was higher than you were used to hearing, your mouth growing dry from having it open for so long. the sounds of moans and squeaks from the bed were quickly heard resonating around the room, your skin felt like it was on fire every time his hips connected with yours. his thrusts were brutal, every muscle in your body tightening and loosening while the sounds of his moans penetrated your ears.

“so. fucking. good.” he almost growled, each word being punctuated by a harsh thrust behind it. “so much better than a stupid hand…”

“yeah?” the word nearly went unheard with your softened tone, legs wrapped around the man’s waist to pull him closer. you locked eyes with him, a tired hand reaching up to cup his cheek. kazutora moaned at the contact, the whimper coming out strained as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. you loved how easy it was to make him crack, just a smidge of attention and the man before you was putty in your hand. “maybe we should do this more often then.”

you couldn’t remember a day when he wasn’t yearning for your attention, honestly. anytime you came around he was stuck to you like glue, you could barely even move around the house without him making himself known to you in some way. he may have been relatively quiet, but you always saw him at least a few times a day, and both of you being distracted with school really took a toll on you both. he was always right by your side, but you had the tendency to be just as needy, so you never had a problem with it. the more you thought back on all the tell tale signs, the more you realized that this outcome probably would have been the end result to your friendship anyway.

“how about everyday?” he asked, head perching up at the suggestion. his eyes were big and hopeful, and you had to clench around him to make his expression change before your heart tried to explode. “is that a yes?”

with a small hum you placed your lips right next to his ear. “why don’t you make me come first, then we’ll talk.”

and come you did.

it took all of 10 seconds before kazutora was picking you apart; legs raised and placed against his shoulders, body folded in half, while his fingers placed themselves in the crooks between yours.

you were barely conscious by that point, eyes blurry and your body shaking from the intensity of his thrusts. you could barely breath, short hics resonating from your throat before being masked by kazu’s lips. you felt like you would die at any moment, yet you were convinced that this was the closest to heaven you’d ever get.

you could feel the heat rising in your stomach, eyes locking with his as you squeezed the hand that was occupying your own.

“m’gonna come…” you slurred, short breaths taking over your body as your brain short circuited. “gonna come, gonna come!!”

your back arched off the bed the best it could as every nerve in your body was set on fire, tingles shooting through your spine and running down to the tips of your toes. you clenched around him, nearly suffocating his cock as he worked you through your high. his pace never slowed as his own orgasm took him by surprise, a quick grunt slipping through as he pulled away.

you didn’t hesitate to wrap your free hand against his shaft, jerking the tip until his body was trembling in your grip. his eyes immediately crossed, breathy moans becoming more frantic before stopping instantaneously. “wait…wait, wait–”

“fucking– shit! ohmygod…” his body froze as his release stained your stomach, his body jerking with every inch of the thick, white stream. you stroked him through it until his hips were running away from your touch, the long anticipated orgasm he was searching for finally flooding through him. he tucked his head into your neck once more, his words being muffled by the surface of your skin as he searched for your warmth. “oh my- ughhh fuck me.”

your eyes slipped shut as your body sank into the sheets, your legs slipping from kazutora’s shoulders and onto the sides of his hips. your best friend slumped beside you, body plopping onto the space beside you while his hand never left yours, even for a moment. you could only hear the sounds of both your heavy breathing, attempting to catch your breaths as the heat of the moment started to wear off.

the silence was broken when kazutora let out a soft hum, body leaning into yours too seek your warmth. when you nuzzled into his touch, you laughed to yourself when you heard him mutter into your ear. “so, what was that about doing this more often?”

don’t plagiarize! it’s not nice <3

©️ theanimeroom

[d-criss-news]

How ‘Maybe Happy Ending’ Overcame a Shaky Start and Won Big at the Tonys

[UHQ] Helen J Shen and Darren Criss, the stars of “Maybe Happy Ending,” celebrated with its director, Michael Arden, after the musical won six Tonys. (Credit...Jutharat Pinyodoonyachet for The New York Times)

“Maybe Happy Ending” had a very unhappy beginning. The show’s triumph at Sunday night’s Tony Awards, where it won six honors, including best new musical, capped a remarkable turnaround for a small production with a baffling title and a hard-to-sell premise that was seen by industry insiders as dead on arrival when it began previews last fall. But in the wee hours of Monday morning, as the quirky show’s performers and producers partied with their creative team and investors at the Bryant Park Grill, the celebrants finally allowed themselves to acknowledge that their against-all-odds show is breaking through.

[UHQ] Shen and Criss play robots in a story about isolation, memory and love that received overwhelmingly positive reviews. (Credit...Jeenah Moon for The New York Times)

“We didn’t know if this show would even open,” said its star, Darren Criss, who won his first Tony for playing Oliver, an outdated helperbot who strikes up a life-changing (well, shelf-life-changing) relationship with a robot across the hall. Criss, an Emmy winner (for “American Crime Story”) and “Glee” alumnus, is also a member of the show’s producing team. “We didn’t have the luxury to dream about a scenario like this,” he said. “This was definitely the little show that could.” How bad did things get? Last summer, the show’s lead producers, Jeffrey Richards and Hunter Arnold, postponed the first performance by a month, citing supply chain issues, which the producers insist were real (there was a delay in the availability of digital video tiles from China), but which many thought was a cover story to hide financial problems.

“They put a fork in us,” said Allan Williams, the show’s executive producer. The production temporarily laid off workers, refunded tickets for the month of canceled performances and contended with a TikTok theater influencer’s suggestion that the musical might not open. “People started texting me with sympathy,” said Helen J Shen, Criss’s co-star, who plays a later-model robot named Claire. “We never really felt secure.” Some of those expected to help finance the show began peeling away, not wanting to put their money into a sinking ship. “We lost a lot of investors because of that TikTok,” Arnold said. “No investor wants to write a check and think that they’re not even going to get to see the show.” By the time “Maybe Happy Ending” finally started previews on Oct. 16, it had sold just $450,000 worth of tickets — woefully low for a new Broadway musical. “Maybe Happy Ending,” which did not finish raising its $16 million capitalization until the week of its opening night, hemorrhaged money through previews. Weekly grosses were under $300,000, which is well below the show’s $765,000 weekly running costs. The 973-seat Belasco Theater was about 20 percent empty. By the fourth week of performances, the show’s average ticket price had dropped to a disastrously low $45, partly because the producers decided to offer all tickets for between $30 and $69 in a calculated, but also desperate, effort to get seats filled and build word-of-mouth. Then there was a huge marketing challenge: How to describe a show with just four actors, two of them playing robots, that poignantly explores isolation, memory and love. The music is a mix of indie pop, American jazz and Broadway, and the design is a slowly unfolding spectacle that uses automation and projections to advance the storytelling. “Every time you try to explain, ‘Well there are these two robots, in a not-so-far-future Seoul, South Korea,’ people are just like, ‘This doesn’t sound like a musical to me,’” Arnold said. The show’s own website does not use the word “robot” when explaining what it is about. The director, Michael Arden, called the musical “a gentle, contemplative piece, in many ways, which isn’t an easy sell.” Shen said her preferred argument for the show was “Just trust me.” “It’s like describing a new color,” she said. “We didn’t know how to describe this piece to people.” Those who did see the show were moved by it, and they started telling others. “I think people liked being able to share a secret,” Arden said.

[UHQ] Criss, an Emmy winner for “American Crime Story,” accepting his first Tony on Sunday night. “We didn’t know if this show would even open,” he said at a party hours later. (Credit...Jutharat Pinyodoonyachet for The New York Times)

The show opened on Nov. 12, and the reviews by critics were overwhelmingly positive. “Ravishing,” wrote The New York Times. “A darling gem,” declared The Washington Post. But still, doubt remained. Broadway is a failure-prone industry, and shows can crash quickly — in late 2022, the musical “KPOP” closed just two weeks after opening and last year, the musical “Tammy Faye” lasted just three weeks post-opening. “We left town the morning after opening night, and we said these very emotional goodbyes to everyone because we thought it was going to be a very short run,” said Will Aronson, who wrote “Maybe Happy Ending” with Hue Park. The producers, heartened by word-of-mouth and the reviews, raised another $1.75 million to promote the show. A turnabout began. “It simply built incrementally,” Arnold said. “We were burning a lot of cash. But we could see that online sentiment was changing, sales patterns were changing.”

The week after opening, the show grossed $591,000. Over the Christmas holiday, it had its first $1 million week, and since then its grosses have exceeded its running costs most weeks. And the show has been basically sold out since the Tony nominations were announced in early May. It is still not clear if the show will turn a profit on Broadway. Rising production costs have made it nearly impossible for new musicals to make money in New York — over the past three seasons, only “& Juliet” has done so. But the Tony Awards should help: There are usually theatergoers who want to see the best musical winner. “Maybe Happy Ending” has an unusual history. Aronson and Park, who made their Broadway debuts with the show, are a binational songwriting team — Aronson is from the United States and Park is from South Korea. They have worked in both countries and both languages.

Park had the idea that became “Maybe Happy Ending” while sitting in a Brooklyn coffee shop in 2014. He heard the song “Everyday Robots” and started musing about the interplay between technology, isolation and connectedness. The show’s first commercial production was in Seoul in 2016; later that year, the writers presented the English-language version in New York, where Richards saw it. He has watched a lot of shows during more than 50 years working on Broadway, and captivated by what he considered this one’s “sheer inventiveness,” he acquired the commercial rights. The musical was on its way. The Korean production was successful, and has had several runs. There were also productions in Japan and China. In 2017 the English version, then called “What I Learned From People” and featuring only three actors, won the Richard Rodgers Award, which supports the development of new musicals. Richards set about helping to assemble a creative team, holding workshops and raising money. Arden signed on in 2018, telling Richards in an email that he found the material “devastating and beautiful and ultimately life affirming.”

The show’s American premiere, directed by Arden, was in early 2020 at the Alliance Theater in Atlanta; The Atlanta Journal-Constitution called it “dazzling,” and the Times critic Jesse Green called it “Broadway-ready.” Richards had hoped to bring it to Broadway the next season, but then came the coronavirus pandemic. By the time theaters began to reopen, the momentum had been lost, investors were in high demand and theaters were booked. “We had to go back to the beginning,” Richards said. But there were positive developments too. Criss, performing in a production of “American Buffalo” that Richards produced, agreed to do “Maybe Happy Ending,” and his participation encouraged both theater owners and investors. “Maybe Happy Ending” needed a theater with a small house (the show is small-scale) and a big stage (the set is elaborate, and needs an elevator beneath its floor), and was unable to find one for several seasons. But finally, last fall, the Belasco became available.

The space worked, and also has a compelling history. Richards noted that in 1960, a play called “All the Way Home” had a near-closing experience there and rebounded, earning it the nickname “The Miracle on 44th Street.” Now, Richards said, “We are the 21st-century miracle on 44th Street.” Just before 2 a.m. Monday, the show’s Tony winners were still cradling their silver statuettes as they posed for pictures with well-wishers in an open-air dining room, celebrating how fully the awards voters had embraced their show’s fundamentals — it won for its score, its book, its scenic design and its direction. “You could feel the industry get behind it because it’s exactly the kind of theater that everybody in this business wants,” said Dane Laffrey, the scenic designer. “It’s heartfelt, it’s original, it’s innovative — it’s all of the things that are scary and are risky but ultimately carry the most reward if you can stay the course.”

[danrifics]

A list of Terrible Influence tour memories i’ll remember forever

- my mum helping me make phannie bracelets

- Taking @dnphobe to antwerp and staying in an “accessible room” that was barely accessible.

- @lesbiandanhowell and I bashing heads together after the TIT promo was posted cos we got a tiny glimpse of sister daniel

- Pushing Ry’s wheelchair around antwerp zoo which is legit all hills

- throwing Dil at the antwerp tit poster and it making it into a phan twitter video and then me throwing dil at dnp at the plymouth m&g

- Being in the first crowd to see the show in antwerp. The silence after the tour bus reveal was crazy.

- Looking up ways to get to Copenhagen or Berlin cos the thought of seeing it again in 6 months time was too much

- @simplydnp flying all the way from Canada to see TIT with the group chat and her staying at my house before we went to plymouth

- Char’s wetherspoons adventures

- the worst drive of my life to TIT plymouth with Char, Sam @personthattoleratesme and @ahappyphjl and a car so full of luggage i couldn’t see out the back window and the fog being so thick I couldn’t barely see where I was driving for at least 2 hours

- The road closure on the drive that made my sat nav freak out and try and direct us into the forrest (later finding out the same thing happened to dnp on their way to plymouth)

- Dan and Phil reading out my Phlit card about the foggy drive to plymouth and making it about themselves

- Trying to park on Ry’s “drive” while everyone watched

- me literally losing my mind while waiting in line to meet dan and phil

- Meeting Dan and Phil with my whole group chat but forgetting to tell them it was happening and all just appearing with no warning

- Dan and Phil signing Ry’s prosthetic leg and then telling everyone it was the weirdest thing they e ever signed (in a good way)

- Jenna shouting cunt at dan during role model or no model and him replying “CLUNGE???”

- Char’s dinosaur themed birthday party where we all got super drunk, loud and annoying while char was absolutely sober.

- Mary threatening to quit her job so she could attend Char’s birthday and her boss saying she didn’t have to come to work that day and begging her not to quit

- Heartthrob: Dan and Phil photocard edition

- Me drunkenly declaring that me and @pseudophan are best friends

- Ry telling us how they lost their leg while the internet is here played in the background

- Going to a cool model village and once again having to push Ry’s wheelchair up a million hills (shout out char)

- Me telling everyone a time for when they needed to be ready for me to drive us back to my house and no one being ready for another 3 hours

- watching WDAPTEO 5 in a random car park in reading cos they uploaded while i was driving us back to my house

- Us screaming when we realised where we were cos it was fate that we were that close to where Dan is from

- Detroit Pizza

- my dogs hating Sandra with a passion

- Sam and Nora staying at my house for a week and just being freezing cold the whole time.

- Char not being able to travel anywhere she wanted to cos there was a huge storm and her ending up at TIT London even tho she wasn’t planning on it.

- me starting the weekend sharing a hotel room with @lankytortoise and it ending with me sharing with @falloutphan

- Rei even being at TIT london when they said they wouldn’t

- me meeting dan and phil after the show on sunday after buying the ticket the night before and then standing outside stage door in the pouring rain until their manager told us dnp had left and he was worried about us getting sick

- eating a 5 guys burger in the pouring rain cos i’d barely eaten anything that day all while having seen 2 shows that day and meeting dnp at 10pm at night

- me giving their manager and 1 of the security guards “phannie bracelets”

- watching the crew load the lorry up with the set and us cheering them on

- us missing the last tube back to our hotel and having to get on a london bus at night

- the insanity of doing 4 shows in 3 days and going to the pop up all the days

- us pulling 3 shiny duo dnp cards between us outside the pop up shop

- me and char almost missing the stop we needed to change at to go to the airport cos we were watching dan and phil on the sims livestream

- Being awake for over 24 hours and spending all night in heathrow airport with Char while we watched rats run around cafe nero

- being the only flight from the UK to Iceland that day that wasn’t cancelled and the pilot literally saying “it’s a bit windy in reykjavik but i can make it”

- meeting dan and phil in Iceland

- getting to see Iceland with some cool people

- Nora and I buying alcohol on a sunday from a sketchy guy at the back door of a shop

- me projectile vomiting on a boat instead of seeing whales and one of the workers on the boat thinking it was hilarious cos i also thought it was hilarious

- the drag queen in the bar who was wondering why we had cat whiskers on our faces and us telling her about dan and phil and her thinking it was really cool, her wanting a bracelet and me taking a photo of her and that being in another pham twitter video

- seeing the northern lights while in the blue lagoon

- Char and my dad becoming best friends somehow ??

[mrsportgas]

The Neighbor. CHAPTER 1

Summary: The story takes place in the real world. Shanks, your unbearable neighbor, makes you a proposition that you're unsure whether to reject. It could be the start of a friendship, or maybe something more?

SHANKS X YOU

WARNING: Except for the first chapter, the rest will contain scenes of sex and violence, making this fanfic strictly +18.

Nami and I had just arrived. It was Sunday, and people were out and about, either running errands, taking a stroll, or simply enjoying the last hours of the day before the week began again. The neighborhood was lively. As I looked out the window, I could see children playing in the park, adults walking their dogs, and others jogging, all going about their lives calmly. Nami parked the car in the driveway, and to the right, a huge Range Rover took up the entire parking spot. The semi-detached houses, split two by two, practically forced you to share the parking and almost the garden with the next-door neighbor.

"Hurry up, Y/N! Let's grab the stuff and go in, they’ve been waiting for us at the bar for hours," Nami said, slightly out of breath.

I laughed at her nervousness, got out of the car, and grabbed the things from the trunk, following my friend.

It had been a year since I finished college, and now Nami and I were starting our PhDs at the same university. So, we had returned to the town where the university was located, but this time, we rented a house in the suburbs. We felt too old to go back to the sorority and wanted some peace and quiet.

We had made plans to meet our friends from college. Some, like us, had started their PhDs, others had stayed working in the city, and Luffy was still in his final year.

"Let’s just drop the stuff at the entrance and go. They’re going to kill us, we’re so late," I said, hoping Nami would relax a bit.

We finished unloading everything from the car and headed to the bar. We chose a bar close to our new house so we could get to know the local spots better, although it was likely we’d end up partying at our place more than once.

We entered the bar, where Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, and Robin were already quite lively.

"Guys!!!" Nami shouted, completely unaware that she was drawing everyone’s attention in the bar.

Everyone greeted us enthusiastically. It had been months since I had seen them, so we spent a long time saying hello. We started catching up, each of us updating the group on what we’d been up to. Meanwhile, Zoro drank at lightning speed, seemingly unaffected, and Luffy ate quickly, as usual.

"Y/N, don’t you want something to drink? Come on, it’s on me," said Sanji, guiding me to the bar without waiting for an answer.

The bar was packed with all kinds of people, though the bar itself was clear, except for a group of men. I made eye contact with one of them, who was chatting with two women, and then turned his gaze towards our group.

"Luffy!!!" the man shouted.

Luffy turned around, and a huge smile appeared on his face. He ran over, hugging the man, practically plowing through the bar like a bull in a china shop. I’d say he almost knocked over those women. "Shanks!!!!!!!"

The two of them started chatting animatedly.

"Y/N, I got this for you," Sanji said, snapping me out of my daze.

I wasn’t sure what he had ordered, but I trusted his taste in food and drinks, so I grabbed the glass and returned to the table.

The night flew by, with everyone drinking and chatting excitedly.

"Luffy, who was that guy?" Nami asked.

"He’s not that guy. It’s Shanks, he’s a friend of mine," Luffy responded, laughing.

"You have the weirdest friends," Nami repeated, and we all burst out laughing.

"Nami, we should probably head out, or we won’t be able to get up tomorrow," I suggested.

Nami nodded, and we all got up to leave.

"I’ll walk you home, girls, and you too, Robin," Sanji said, trying to wrap his arms around us.

"We’re fine, Sanji. You’d better walk Robin so she’s not alone," Nami said, dismissing Sanji’s offer.

Nami and I got back home and agreed to clean up the next day since we still had a week before our PhD program started.

I put on my pajamas and climbed into bed, ready to fall asleep, when I heard noises outside. My window faced the front yard and several windows of the neighboring house, so every time someone passed by, I could hear them. I just prayed they weren’t a family with loud kids. I took advantage of the night to look out the window without being seen and finally see who our new neighbors were.

The man from the bar, Luffy’s friend, was walking with the two women he had been talking to. All three were clearly drunk, stumbling across the parking lot while the women complimented the man’s car, and he showed off, flirting with both of them.

"Nami!!!!!!!" I ran to her room, hoping she wasn’t asleep yet.

"Y/N?!?! Are you okay? What’s going on?" Nami responded, clearly disoriented.

"Come quickly, our neighbor is outside. You won’t believe who it is."

We both rushed back to my room like the nosy people we were, hiding as best we could behind the curtains, watching the whole scene.

"That old guy is our neighbor? Great. Looks like we’ll have some good entertainment," Nami said.

I burst out laughing. "He’s not that old, and if he’s Luffy’s friend, I’m sure he’s cool."

"Or a total weirdo… Looks like he’s gone inside. Well, I’m off to bed. If you find out anything else, let me know tomorrow," Nami said with a mischievous smile as she left my room.

She closed the door, and I turned around, just in time to notice that right in the window across from mine, our dear neighbor—shirtless—was laughing and chatting with the women in what appeared to be the master bedroom. Suddenly, he looked out the window, his gaze meeting mine, as I stood in the middle of my window, completely visible.

Our eyes locked, and a huge smile spread across his face. My heart started racing, pounding in my chest. I quickly closed the curtains, my face flushed and burning. I jumped into bed, hiding under the covers. As I calmed down, the image of his muscular body kept popping into my mind. He might be older, but it was clear he was hot.

The next morning, Nami and I unpacked all our belongings and carefully organized everything.

"Why don’t we invite all our friends from the city tonight? It’ll be fun," Nami suggested with a mischievous tone.

"Alright, just hope nothing gets broken, or the landlord will kill us."

We began calling and messaging all our friends and then started setting everything up. We dressed in our favorite outfits, and Nami did her favorite hairstyle on me. "This is the one that looks best on you. You look gorgeous!" she said every time she styled my hair like this.

The night came quickly, along with the guests. We greeted old friends and acquaintances. The party was in full swing. Zoro and Nami were competing to see who could drink the most without passing out, Usopp and Robin were playing beer pong with a few others, while Luffy ate as much as he could. Sanji was busy making drinks for anyone who asked.

"Could you make me a piña colada?" I asked as I approached the table where Sanji was mixing various drinks.

"For you, anything," he replied, winking.

Suddenly, a loud noise interrupted us. The doorbell rang sharply, and Nami rushed to open the door.

Behind it stood our neighbor, clearly fed up.

"What, did you come to join the party, old man?" Nami teased.

"It’s Monday. I have work tomorrow. Could you at least turn the music down?" Shanks replied, ignoring Nami’s comment.

"Oh yeah? You had your little party yesterday, now it’s our turn. Buzz off, old buzzkill," Nami said, slamming the door in his face. "Let’s keep the party going!"

"Nami, what are you doing? We could get in trouble. We just got here," I said, running to open the door again.

The man was still there, his hand on the doorbell, ready to ring again. His surprised expression gave away that he hadn’t expected anyone to open the door.

"I’m calling the police if you don’t turn down the volume. If I don’t do it, another neighbor will. Do you realize people have work tomorrow?" he reprimanded us.

"Please don’t call the police. I’ll turn the music down, and if that’s not enough, we’ll end the party. But please, don’t call."

"You have 10 minutes, or I will," he responded coldly.

I didn’t like his tone at all. I had tried to apologize, and he was still being rude.

"Fine, then I’ll call the police and tell them how you were staring into my room yesterday, you freak," I said, slamming the door in his face.

Nami, who was still behind me watching the whole scene, burst out laughing. "It's been a while since you showed your sassy side, it was about time!"

We both laughed at the situation. "We got stuck with the annoying neighbor."

I headed back towards Sanji, but just before I got there, someone grabbed my arm.

"Where are you going in such a hurry, gorgeous?"

I turned, pulling my arm away forcefully from the person’s grip. Kid—my ex—his voice was unmistakable.

A year ago, right after we graduated from college, our relationship was at its worst. It was the most toxic relationship I’d ever had, and taking advantage of the fact that I was moving back to my hometown, I left him, thinking I’d never hear from him again.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was invited, though I didn't get an invite from you. Guess it got lost on the way," he replied with a smug look.

I responded with a disgusted face, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

"You know? I haven’t stopped thinking about you, not for a single day. Honestly, I only came tonight because I know we’re getting back together."

I threw a desperate glance in Sanji’s direction, and he immediately understood my non-verbal cues.

"Leave," Sanji said, approaching us.

"This doesn’t concern you, cook," Kid responded, clearly challenging him. "Get out of my sight."

"I said leave. Y/N doesn’t want to talk to you," Sanji replied, unfazed.

Kid got in Sanji's face, pushing him slightly while repeating, "You want a fight?" over and over.

Luffy and Zoro appeared from the nearby rooms, grabbing Kid and throwing him out through the front door.

"It’s best if you all leave," I said, my voice breaking.

I was overwhelmed and scared. The fact that Kid was back in town, knew I was here too, and even where I lived, made me anxious.

People quickly left the house after the scene. Nami turned off the music and started cleaning up the mess on the floor. I just stood there trembling.

"Don’t worry," Nami said while hugging me. "If he bothers you, the guys will take care of him. Nothing’s going to happen."

The rest of the week passed normally. We both started our PhDs, so we were so busy with work and tasks around the new house that the days flew by. Occasionally, we’d run into our dear neighbor, whom we awkwardly greeted—well, Nami did; I just ignored him. After our encounter, I didn’t even want to see him.

"He’s just an old freak, forget about him, Y/N," Nami said after hearing that I’d bumped into him by the window and that he’d waved at me. "I’m sure he’s waiting by the window for you to look out," she added with a laugh.

"Ughh, I don’t even want to think about it."

It was Friday morning. We’d been here for almost a week, and the sun had been shining every day except today, when it was pouring rain non-stop. That night, we had plans to meet at the bar right after class or work, so I wore a skirt, my best top, a cute sweater, and high boots.

The day went by normally, except for the constant rain. As I left, I headed to the bus stop. A huge Range Rover passed by, splashing through a puddle, soaking me from head to toe and ruining my outfit. Now I had no choice but to go home to change. "Damn idiot," I thought. I got on the bus, completely drenched, and shortly after, I got off, realizing I’d left my umbrella at the stop. I ran as fast as I could to the front door, which left me soaked to the bone.

To make matters worse, I couldn’t find my house keys, and Nami wasn’t home. I called her three times and sent her a ton of messages, but nothing—she didn’t answer. After 20 minutes, my wet clothes started to chill me to the bone, and I began to shiver from the cold. Nami still seemed oblivious, so I decided to text our group chat, but no one responded.

"What happened to you? Can’t get into the house?" My annoying neighbor was getting out of his Range Rover, holding grocery bags in one hand and an umbrella in the other.

"Yeah, I forgot my keys, and if you don’t mind, I’m going to keep trying to call my friend."

"You’re going to freeze. Want to come inside while you wait?" Shanks suggested, with a little smirk on his face.

NEXT CHAPTER

[beatrice-otter]

I really like John Scalzi's analysis of the whole wtfery of this. (I'm not a great fan of his books, I think he's really overrated as a novelist, but his political commentary and commentary on the SF/F world is interesting.)

I think he has a good point about how while the initial panic about his bad performance at the debate was genuine (and if he'd done better, he'd never have withdrawn), but also that once there was panic, he decided how to manage things to maximize Harris' chances at both getting the nomination and winning the election.

Consider that the announcement was made on the Sunday after the Republican National Convention, and after the Sunday morning political talk shows were put to bed, i.e., after the GOP political capital was spent slagging Biden, and when professional spinners would be caught flat-footed by the announcement. Biden’s news was quickly followed by his endorsement of Kamala Harris, which in turn was followed by a flood of endorsements for Harris across the Democratic political firmament, effectively slamming the door on any serious challenge to Harris at the upcoming Democratic National Convention. If you think something like that just happens spontaneously, well, one, bless your heart, and two, you’re wrong. This was a work, a rope-a-dope, and a strategy to energize the Democratic base and to toss what little momentum the GOP had coming out of their convention down a deep, dark hole. And it worked! Harris raised an huge amount of money for her campaign in its first day — $49 million at least, and I’ve heard up to $70 million — and the GOP messaging was in disarray, limited largely to Trump whining on Truth Social, Stephen Miller freaking out on Fox News, and Mike Johnson trying to suggest that the Democrats can’t do that, it isn’t fair. Which is just what the Democrats wanted out of this. ... The current iteration of the GOP has been mask-off racist and sexist for some time, and Donald Trump sets the tone for the party on this score. Be expecting the whole array of nonsense from them, from dog whistles to flat out racist and sexist shit, said out loud, and also all over the former Twitter by Trump’s pet fascists and/or Russian bots. I guarantee you it will be nothing Kamala Harris has not heard before, but you might see a couple of new ones. The GOP outsourced their policy making to The Heritage Foundation with its Project 2025, which is already deeply unpopular, probably because it’s terrible for anyone who is not already a billionaire cryptofascist with a cross fetish. The GOP can’t go after Harris on policy grounds, and Trump doesn’t do policy anyway. So expect endless variations of she’s an uppity black woman for the next several months. ... Also, Biden has manifestly changed the narrative around both himself and his presidency. I didn’t want him to stop running for re-election, but choosing to do so allows for a “country over self” positioning that’s a hugely effective contrast to Trump’s “I’m running to avoid prison and to get revenge” narrative. It also allows a fresh reframing of the Biden administration’s achievements and accomplishments, and positions Harris to say she will continue them. Biden can lean into the whole “Grandpa Joe” thing now, and have it seen as a positive rather than a negative. ... To put it another way, after eight years, we know what the hard cap is on Trump’s support. We don’t know what the cap is yet for Harris’ support. History does suggest that cap is higher than Trump’s.

[johaerys-writes]

Snippet Sunday

@rowanisawriter tagged me earlier this week for a WIP Wednesday but I had nothing to share, so I'm sharing a snippet today instead 😊 I've been working on a flashback which takes place at that fateful New Year's Eve party Antilochus mentions in chapter 2 of baby born blue, not sure if I'll include all of it in the next chapter but this is a small bit of it:

Patroclus is halfway down the stairs when he bumps into Briseis. 

“Where were you?” she demands hotly, her voice just loud enough to be heard over the music. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

“Oh—sorry, I was just—” Patroclus stumbles over his own words. His face is hot, and he realises he actually never even bothered to come up with a believable excuse should he walk into someone he knows. “I’m tired,” he says finally. “I’m heading home.”

“Really.” Briseis quirks her brow, unconvinced. “And where is Achilles?”

“He’s…” Patroclus swallows thickly. “He—I don’t know, still at the party, probably.”

“You don’t know.” Briseis shakes her head and crosses her arms before her chest. “You’re leaving with him, aren’t you?”

“Brie…" Patroclus starts pleadingly, but doesn’t know how to finish the sentence. It’s not the first time they’ve had this conversation. Just before this party she had made him promise that they’d be leaving together, whether Achilles was there or not. The promise didn’t even cross his mind before Patroclus broke it.

“How many more times are you going to do this to yourself?” Briseis asks when Patroclus doesn’t reply. “For months I’ve watched you pick up your pieces after he left. And now at a wiggle of Achilles’ fingers you’re crawling back to him without a second thought?”

He hates the hopeless, disappointed look she gives him, and he hates himself for giving into all of this once more. But he just can’t help it. The pull is too strong, impossible to fight. No one else could understand it, because no one else shares a bond like he and Achilles do.

 “We won’t do anything,” he lies, only to placate her. “We’ll just talk things over.”

"In the middle of the night? And after everything Achilles has downed?” 

“I just— I need to do this, Brie,” Patroclus says, as if that’s enough to explain any of it. “It’s been a while, and—things might be different this time. He deserves a chance, at least. We both do.”

“Oh, Pat.” She shakes her head again. “Are you lying to me or to yourself?” 

Patroclus just gazes at her helplessly. He doesn’t know what else to say. Briseis sighs. “Did you tell Iphis at least? She probably still thinks you’re on that ‘date’.” 

Patroclus winces slightly at the reminder. Briseis had brought Iphis as his plus one for the party, but he barely managed to spend half an hour with her before Achilles arrived and practically pounced on him. After months of interacting with him only through text messages and video calls, whenever they both had time, having all of Achilles' attention on him all at once was intoxicating, headier than the strongest drug. He could try looking for Iphis now, but the villa is huge and she could be anywhere, and he also hates to leave Achilles alone when he’s in that state.  

He feels like the worst, most selfish person in the world when he asks Briseis, “Can you make up an excuse? Just tell her I got sick or something.” 

Briseis glares at him. “I’m not lying for you again. I’ll tell her the truth: that you left with Achilles to—”

“To take him home, because he got sick. Or something. Please. I’ll owe you.” 

Briseis glares at him for a moment longer, then she shakes her head dejectedly again. “Fine. But I’m doing it for her sake, not yours. She deserves some kind of an explanation.”

“Thanks, Brie, you’re the best,” Patroclus tells her over his shoulder, already hopping down the stairs. 

“Pat.” 

He stops and turns to look at her. She lets out a deep breath, her features growing hard. 

“When you’re with him, you become just like him.” 

The words are like a punch in the gut. Patroclus just stares stupidly at her, until she turns around and walks back to the party.

Tagging forth to @baejax-the-great @in-arlathan @tragediegh @reprrise @hekateinhell @starlightvld @maxdurden @vimlos @darlingpoppet @babyrdie and anyone else who might want to share a little WIP!

[beardedmrbean]

BUCHAREST: Nicusor Dan, the centrist mayor of Bucharest, won a tense rerun of Romania’s presidential election on Sunday, beating nationalist George Simion in a vote seen as crucial for the direction of the EU and Nato member bordering war-torn Ukraine.

The ballot came five months after Romania’s constitutional court annulled an election over allegations of Russian interference and a massive social media promotion of the far-right frontrunner, who was not allowed to stand again.

Dan, who campaigned for an “honest” Romania, gained close to 54% of the vote, while US President Donald Trump admirer Simion secured some 46%, according to near complete results.

“It’s the victory of thousands and thousands of people who… believe that Romania can change in the right direction,” Dan, 55, told supporters, who chanted “Europe” and “Russia, Russia, Romania is not yours”.

Turnout was close to 65%, compared to 53% for the May 4 first round, in which Simion secured most votes.

“The mobilisation was almost unprecedented,” political scientist Sergiu Miscoiu told AFP, adding “never has an election been so decisive, with clear geopolitical implications.”

Romania’s president has significant sway in foreign policy, including holding veto power at EU summits.

People’s will

EU chief Ursula von der Leyen congratulated Dan, vowed it would help work towards “a strong Europe”. French President Emmanuel Macron said Romanians had “chosen democracy, the rule of law, and the EU… despite many attempts at manipulation”.

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky also congratulated Dan, saying it “is important to have Romania as a reliable partner”.

Despite exit polls showing Dan ahead, far-right leader Simion, 38 said he had won the election, but eventually conceded defeat to his rival.

“I would like to congratulate my opponent, Nicusor Dan. He has won the election, and this was the will of the Romanian people,” Simion said in a video on Facebook.

He vowed to “continue our fight” for Romania and to put its 19 million people “first”.

Simion, who leads the far-right AUR party, has criticised what he called the EU’s “absurd policies” and proposed cutting military aid to Ukraine.

Simion and Dan both campaigned on a platform of change amid anger over the politicians, deemed corrupt, who have ruled one of the EU’s poorest countries since the end of communism 35 years ago.

Simion voted in Mogosoaia, just outside Bucharest, with far-right politician Calin Georgescu.

Georgescu was the front-runner in last year’s cancelled presidential election and was barred from taking part in the rerun.

As the duo arrived, dozens of people, some holding flowers, shouted: “Calin Georgescu for president.”

Tense atmosphere

The election campaign took place in a tense atmosphere.

The cancellation of last year’s vote and subsequent barring of Georgescu drew tens of thousands onto the streets to protest in sometimes violent rallies.

Top US officials also criticised the decision to scrap the last ballot.

The surprise resignation of prime minister Marcel Ciolacu and the collapse of his pro-European government coalition – after their candidate failed to make the runoff vote – further raised the stakes.

The new president will have the power to appoint a new prime minister.

The election turmoil has increased economic uncertainty in the EU’s most indebted country, which has grappled with high inflation.

“The stakes of these elections are huge because there is widespread chaos in Romania right now after the annulment,” voter Runa Petringenaru told AFP.

“We can’t wait for it to be over,” the 55-year-old workshop organiser added.