#star is not a fan of being ignored when he was in the middle of a fat monologue thank u very much

[lexicorp]

third wheelin-

you shall receive no dialogue actually :>

i need to finish the last dissonance page but these three infested my brain wot can i say

gif flavored version under cut

[bloomseishiro]

THAT’S MY GIRL — ITOSHI RIN

౨ৎ — dating a famous soccer star can be scary, especially with all the crazy fans and online gossip. so you and rin decide to keep your relationship a secret. a misunderstanding occurs when you hang out with your friend (another famous soccer player) and now the internet thinks you’re dating karasu?! 

itoshi rin x fem!reader. fluff, established relationship, secret relationships, pro soccer player!rin, possessive!rin everybody cheers, karasu is one of reader’s besties, reader wears a dress ; i had so much fun writing this i will never shut up about it pls enjoy

word count. 2.2k 

You didn’t intend to keep your relationship with Rin a secret. 

At least, not for this long. 

You thought you would quickly warm up to the idea of being a famous soccer player’s girlfriend, but recent events had you thinking otherwise. Not too long ago, one of Rin’s former Blue Lock contestants revealed that he had a girlfriend, and his fans on the internet completely tore her to shreds. They were mainly complaining about how she broke ‘NagiReo’ apart and how she was heartless for stealing Nagi from his real soulmate. Some even went so far as to threaten her!

You shudder as you recall the social media posts and tabloid titles. 

If the public reacted so badly to that, what’s to say they would welcome you?

So you decide to prolong your secret relationship and, thankfully, Rin doesn’t mind. 

He doesn’t care too much about public opinion. As long as he knows you are happy with him, and you give him the reassurance you know he loves (though he doesn’t want to admit it), he’s content with keeping this between the two of you for a little while longer. 

Still, keeping your relationship a secret from the press also meant you couldn’t go out to dinners together, being forced to order takeout or get food delivered inside. Even going to his games was a rare treat, and even then you had to wear a full disguise and sit in an obscure nosebleed seat. 

It frustrates you, really. Why can’t people just be normal? 

You sigh.

“Are you still moping?” asks Karasu as he returns with your drinks. 

For the past thirty minutes, you’ve been telling your friend, who happens to be another one of Rin’s former Blue Lock acquaintances, about all your secret dating woes. 

You nod, taking a spice of your ice cold water. “Yeah, yeah. No more of me crying over not even being able to eat at a fast food place like this with Rin. Instead, let’s hear all about your most recent failed dating stories.”

“They’re not all fails,” he drawls, shoving a bundle of fries into his mouth. “I might be going on a second date with one of them.”

“And she’s not scared of the backlash?” you ask, a hint of resignation in your voice. 

Karasu shrugs. “Most people just ignore the hate. Those delusional fans aren’t real fans, but at least they make us more money, right? It’s part of the industry. Comes with dating a famous athlete. Don’t take it to heart, Y/N. I’m sure your lover boy Rinnie will shield you from whatever backlash occurs anyway.”

Frowning, you dip a fry into some ketchup over and over.

“You look a little menacing stabbing your ketchup like that,” jests Karasu, putting his arms up in surrender. “It was just a suggestion. You don’t have to reveal anything you don’t want to.”

“But I do want to!” you cry exasperatedly. “I want Rin to be able to hold my hand in public, and make eye contact with me! I don’t want to wear a stupid disguise when I go to his games. I want to kiss him right in front of the paparazzi and then throw my middle finger at their face!” 

“Then do it.” He pauses, a grin forming in his face as the scene plays in his head. “No, wait, for real, do it. Do you know how badass that’d be?”

“No!” You place your head into your hands and pout. “I’m nervous.” 

“Who cares what those less than mediocre losers think anyway?” Karasu scoffs, finishing the rest of his burger. “They’re not significant enough for you to worry about. Just do what you want.” He reaches over to steal some fries off your tray. “I bet Rin would like it if you came to support him during his games. As yourself. And not you with a mustache and clown wig or whatever atrocity it is you put on.”

“I do not wear a clown wig as a disguise,” you say, shooting him a glare. 

“Don’t need a disguise to be one.”

“Okay, our catch up session is over,” you deadpan, grabbing your purse and standing up from the table haughtily. 

Karasu laughs, taking no offense to you leaving. “Can I have the rest of your food?”

“Go ahead, you crow.”

He rolls his eyes but happily takes your leftovers. As you leave, he calls out, “Hey, Y/N.”

You glance back at him. 

“Remember what we talked about. Who gives a fuck what others think? Just do what will make you and Rin happy, okay?”

Reluctantly, you nod, knowing full well he’s right. The main focus on your relationship with Rin should be doing what makes you both happy and fulfilled. The main focus shouldn’t be avoiding the press and his fans. 

Karasu said it best. 

Who gives a fuck? 

“Hey, have you seen what’s trending yet?”

Rin blinks, considering hanging up the phone. Isagi rarely calls him, and it’s even more rare for Rin to actually pick up. So why the hell were the first words out of Isagi’s mouth about what’s trending? Since when did Isagi even care? 

“No. Don’t care. Bye.”

“Wait, wait!” Isagi butts in before Rin can press the red button. “It’s about Karasu and Y/N…dating.”

Rin frowns at the reveal. He knew you were going to get lunch with Karasu yesterday, but there was no way it was a date. He puts Isagi on speaker and opens up Twitter. Of course, the top trending topics are, “karasu’s girlfriend” and “WHO IS SHE?” to name a few. 

At Rin’s silence, Isagi continues, “Not that there’s any way it’s true, of course. She would never cheat on you! And Karasu isn’t that kind of guy, either.”

Rin knows all that. But he doesn’t care. He’s too busy being annoyed that your first introduction to the public is as Karasu’s girlfriend and not Rin’s girl. 

He grits his teeth, seconds away from throwing his phone onto the floor. 

You’re his girlfriend. Not anyone else’s. He didn’t care what the public thought…until it came to something so ridiculously incorrect like this. 

“Rin,” says Isagi. “Everything good?”

“No,” he barks, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But I’ll clear this bullshit up. Bye.”

“Huh? Oh, okay, bye—!”

Rin hangs up and pockets his phone, immediately dropping everything to head over to your place. He has to see you. Now. 

You go through your day blissfully unaware of all the drama going on online (and with your own boyfriend).

You take Karasu’s advice from yesterday to heart. Perhaps you are just too chronically online and need to stop being so worried about the opinions random strangers might have about you.

It’s time for a digital detox.

Earlier, you deleted any and all social media apps off your phone, bar text messages if that even counted, and so far, it feels pretty freeing.

You’re so busy coloring and embroidering—both random hobbies you picked up but never had much time for since you would doom scroll instead—you hardly notice the sound of your door opening.

“Y/N?” inquires a frustrated-looking Rin.

“Rin!” you greet in excitement, dropping your activities and rushing over to give him a big hug. “I didn’t know you were coming over right now! Did I miss your call?”

He shakes his head. “No, I just came over. Are you busy right now?” 

“Never too busy for you,” you say with a cheesy wink.

Rin snorts, ruffling the top of your head. “Good. Let me take you on a date, then. I bought you a new dress to wear, if you want.” 

Your ears perk up at the sound of that. You absolutely love when Rin spoils you with surprise gifts! It also helps that he has a shockingly keen eye for the types of dresses that best suit your figure.

“Let me shower and get ready. Then we can go,” you say as you begin to head over to the bathroom. “What do you have planned for us?”

“Kioicho Fukudaya,” Rin states as if he’s saying something as ordinary and common as McDonald’s and not a two Michelin-starred restaurant. 

Your jaw drops. “How did you get a reservation so last minute?!”

He shrugs, lip quirking upward as you bounce in excitement. “Just made a few calls.”

“Just a few calls?” you repeat sarcastically. As nonchalant as Rin pretends to be, you’re fairly certain he had to fight tooth-and-nail for a table at a place like that. 

The two of you haven’t really gone to public places like restaurants, no matter how exclusive and high-end they were. Even with all the secrecy in the world, it would never be truly private. Paparazzi were still bound to be there lurking.

Realization dawns on you and you blink. “Wait…Won’t people see us together?”

“Possibly.” Rin hesitates for a moment. “Is that okay?” 

You weigh the consequences in your mind but remind yourself what’s really important. You want to let everyone know you’re with Rin. And judging from today, it seems he wants the same.

“I don’t mind,” you promise softly. “I think I’m ready to stop keeping this a secret relationship. But…what brought this on?

Rin’s eyes narrow as he grits out, “Karasu.”

Your head tilts in confusion. “You talked to him too?” 

“What? No.” His brows crinkle together. “I just saw you guys trending online.”

You blink. “Huh?”

He returns your look of equal confusion. “Have you not checked Twitter?”

“No,” you say with a shake of your head. “I deleted all my socials off my phone. Just so I’m not tempted to check it.” 

Rin raises his brow in question. 

“I’m tired of keeping our relationship a secret… I was hoping if I stopped checking the online gossip and what’s trending, I could ignore all the outside noise and just focus on us,” you explain. 

At your words, a smile forms on his face. Not a smirk, or a half-grin, but a full-fledged smile. Just seeing his expression makes you happy. 

This is definitely the right choice, you tell yourself. 

“Well, fans saw you and Karasu getting food together and now the media is calling you ‘Karasu’s girl’,” mutters Rin in annoyance. “Obviously, it’s false. But it still bothers me to see that.” 

You visibly gag at the news. “Ew! What? Karasu and me? Are they blind?!” 

He snorts at your face filled with disgust. “Blind and stupid. I want to show them just how wrong they are.”

It begins to dawn on you why Rin wants to dress you up all nice and take you to a fancy restaurant. You giggle at his possessiveness, finding it rather cute. You know he trusts you fully, but there’s no harm in him wanting to stake his claim. 

“We’ll definitely show them.”

“Get ready then,” he says after planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “I have to freshen up, too. It will be our grand reveal, after all.”

He makes it sound like some sort of mission. You giggle to yourself. 

“Join me in the shower?” you ask with a grin.

“Do you even have to ask?”

After the two of you get yourselves clean and dressed to the nines, Rin pulls you flush against his body as he examines you in the mirror. 

The dress he chose is soft and silky, hugging your curves perfectly. It’s floor-length, but the high slit rises to your upper thigh, exposing just enough skin to leave people curious. 

Rin stands behind you in his dark brown suit, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist as he kisses the side of your neck. 

“You look gorgeous,” he compliments.

“You do too,” you say with a smile. “Very handsome.”

Rin meets your gaze through the mirror and smirks. “I wasn’t planning on doing it this way, but you look too good to let this opportunity go to waste.”

“Opportunity? What do you mean?”

He doesn’t reply, instead taking his phone out his pocket and opening up the camera. Rin points it at the mirror and adjusts his arm so it slightly covers your face. Realizing he’s taking a photo of you two, you smile shyly, pressing yourself closer to his chest. 

“Beautiful as always,” says Rin after he captures the picture. 

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you jest, peeking over at his screen. 

When you see the photo, you almost blush. With the way his hand is gripping your body, and given how close you two are, it seems like you’re intruding on an intimate moment—and you lived it yourself!

You watch as Rin opens a social media app and posts the photo with a simple caption.

@RinItoshi: my girl. get it right.

Once finished, he tosses his phone aside carelessly and looks at you with a smile. “Ready for our date?” 

“Always!”

Placing your hand in his, you excitedly follow him out the door and to his car. The two of you are so happy in your own little bubble, neither one of you notice how the internet is absolutely blowing up over Rin’s reveal of your relationship. 

But that’s okay. You like it better that way. 

@KarasuTabito: DAMN IT TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH

@isagiofficial: congrats you guys! :)  

@iluvrinxoxo: holy shit she’s hot

@iluvrinxoxo: ahahahah rin who???? 

@iluvrinxoxo: changing my username bye

[celestiamour]

ft. edmund pevensie x f! reader — the chronicles of narnia

╰₊✧ messing around in the carriage on the way home┊0.8k words

kinktober 2024: oct 2. carriage sex

setting: the golden age contains: smut!! dom edmund & sub reader┊carriage sex, slight exhibitionism & jealousy, fingering, edmund is such a tease & little freak, established relationship

➤ author's note: skander isn’t really my type (criminal, i know), but on god, his attitude when playing as edmund is so attractive

“was it just me, or was that ball more boring than the ones they usually host?” you ask with a sigh, swishing your head around to loosen the elaborate style your hair was pulled into that tugged at your scalp and enjoying the little artificial breeze from the motions of your fan.

“yeah, not sure what all that was about,” he responded, situating himself next to you instead of across from you like usual. it made you raise an eyebrow at the irregularity, but you knew what he was trying to get up to the second his eyes raked over the form of your body. the dress you wore tonight (which would quickly become all the rage with young women in all of the neighboring kingdoms after seeing you) was beautifully simple with just a little bit of cleavage showing in the dip of the neckline and hugged your curves in all the right places, driving him absolutely mad this entire time. he simply couldn’t stop staring at you from across the room when you were both socializing with other royals and nobles. “your gown, on the other hand, is much more interesting…”

you tutted in disapproval and put your hands up in mock surrender in slight hopes of stomping out his dirty thoughts before they started, feeling your face get hot at how forward your lover was being. “edmund, i just got this dress tailored, i would like to wear it more than once. also, the coachman is going to hear us— the poor man is just trying to do his job! you can wait until we get home.”

“first of all, no bride of mine will ever need to wear the same outfit twice. second, i didn’t like how he looked at you when trying to be the one to escort you off instead of me. third,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear, ignoring the poor attempt of a barricade you had put up for him, “don’t act like the thought of him hearing us doesn’t turn you on too.”

“edmund,” you had intended to chastise him, but his name ended up coming out in a slightly desperate-sounding whine. “... we’ll have to be careful…”

“oh please, i’m nothing if not careful,” he insisted, more so with the intent of putting your concerns at ease rather than actually promising to practice caution, pulling you into his lap and having you sitting pretty while facing the window. he admired how your makeup accentuated your beauty and how your jewelry made you sparkle brighter than the stars in the sky, something he could only see from afar among the sea of people earlier.  “i’ve been waiting for this moment all night.”

“have you now?” your breath was caught in your throat, feeling his fingers bunch up the fabric of your gown before trailing over the bare skin, closer and closer to your aching core.

he hummed in response, brushing over your heat and gently massaging it with his knuckles, thoroughly enjoying the cute little noises you were trying to suppress and the wet patch on your undergarments quickly growing. “you know, judging by how soaked you are already, i’m starting to think i wasn’t the only one…” he pushed the lace aside and slipped in his middle finger followed by his index, earning a soft gasp which makes him grin cheekily. 

“what can i say, you look very dashing in your new royal robes.” despite your satirical tone, there was truth in your words, he really did look handsome in the navy blue suit adorned with golden decals and badges of past achievements, usually dark messy locks thoughtfully slicked with gel to style it in a way that flatters his features best. 

your sarcasm was quickly shut up when curled his fingers into your sweet spot, replacing your words with a sharp moan which made you cover your mouth with your hand. the coachman definitely heard that, and you felt your face getting hot, although you weren’t sure if it was from embarrassment or lust. either way, edmund was highly amused and continued to bully your sweet spot while rubbing your clit with his thumb until you gushed all over his hand and soaked the inside of your dress. thank god, it was multiple layers and wasn’t visible on the outermost fabric when you fixed yourself up to look as presentable as possible considering what just happened.

the carriage came to a slow stop along with the hoof steps, the sound of the coachman pulling on the reins with a soft “woah” followed by the whinnies of the horses reaching your ears. this time, the just king was quick to open the door first to escort you out after adjusting his suit to better hide his erection, keeping your slightly wobbly legs steady by holding you arm in arm all while shooting a certain look to the other man who was beet red to send a reminder that you were taken.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Kid's Story - 1

Source for pic

Imperfect 1

Word Count: 3591

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Angry!Kid; Hurt!Kid; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Heavy Angst With Happy Ending; Banter; Miscommunication; Dealing With Trauma; Living With Trauma; PTSD; Overprotective!Shanks; BestFriend!Killer; Feelings Realisation; Denial of Feelings; Uncorresponded Feelings; Survivor's Guilt; Self-Loathing; Mentions of Death; Alcohol Abuse; Hurt; Violence; Discovering of Emotional Vulnerability;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Special Warning 2: I advise reading the introductory chapters first, as they give a sense of the story, introduce characters and locations and, this chapter starts off immediately after the Sanji chapter. Your first interaction with Kid is in those chapters! If you don't want to read the other characters, I recommend reading, at least, Kid's Chapter since it's the first interaction!

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. Then there's Kid, the gruff, hot-headed mechanic, who gets under your skin in more ways than one. The chemistry between you is undeniable and you can't keep your hands to yourselves. Until he starts to push you away. Each time you think he's let you in, he just shoves you further, it's such a maddening, dizzying push and pull that you don't know how much more your heart can take before it crumbles.

Notes: Okay, ready for this crazy ride? I think this story will be the longest of the bunch, so far. But it's one I'm dying to share. As per usual, I hope to post one chapter per week (I'm sorry in advance if that goal isn't met). And, as per usual again, please enjoy the first angst-free chapters before the proverbial 💩 hits the fan!

Here's a Spotify Playlist I created for this story if you want to check it out!

Masterlist

You knew your car was unreliable, your dad told you so, and you had witnessed it firsthand, but damn it, why did the thing have to die on you when you were alone in the middle of nowhere? 

After lunch with the girls, you decided to drive your piece-of-crap car to the beach to unwind a little. Your conversation with Sanji had brought up memories of Ichiji, your ex-fiancé, that you had not wanted to revisit. The beach seemed like the perfect place to relax.

And it was. 

Until it was time for you to leave, when the stupid car suddenly sputtered, coughed, and began spewing fumes through the hood. 

“Stupid piece of shit,” you mutter under your breath while kicking the front tire. Opening the hood makes you grimace as you’re assaulted by smoke, which promptly spurs a coughing fit. With a heavy sigh and a slight sag of your shoulders, you resign yourself to your fate, leaning against the car and watching the sun dip lower on the horizon as you fish out your phone. 

There’s no use calling Shanks. Your dad said he and Beckman were watching the game, which means that both men are probably well into their beers, and you don’t want your dad to risk his life by driving the truck tipsy, so you do a quick internet search for a mechanic in town. 

There’s only one: ‘The Damned Punk Garage’

“What the hell…?” What kind of name for a mechanic’s shop is that? With an exasperated breath, you rely on the four-star rating and ignore the comments about the owner being a hothead, praying for someone reliable and not someone who’ll take advantage of you - this is a small town with practically zero crime rate, after all - and dial the number.

“‘Sup?” Really? The voice is rough and gruff on the other end, but somewhat familiar, though you can’t quite place it.

“Erm… hi? My car broke down near the beach, I’m stranded. Is there any way you can come and fix it, or tow it, or something?” You roll your eyes and smack your forehead. Why does it sound like you’re asking for a favour? You’re going to pay for the service, dumbass.

“Aye, send me yer location.” 

Wait… this accent is more than familiar.

“Kid?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Who’d ye expect?” he sighs on the other side of the line like he has something better to do, and you hear the clinking of tools over some loud rock music.

“I dunno! I’ve been away for years, smarty pants, how would I know that you own the only garage in town? I’m Shanks’ daughter.” You tell him your name with another exasperated roll of your eyes.

“Sparkles?” Suddenly, his voice sounds lighter, a hint of mischief in his tone, which pulls a light smirk from your lips as well. “I’ll be damned. Ye need me already? Missed me that much?” He chuckles, and so do you.

“Guess I do. Up to the task, big man? Or are you all talk and no action?”

He barks a laugh on the other end of the line, and you hear the roaring of an engine in the background. “I’m always up to the task, City Girl. But I’ll let ye find that out yerself.” He pulls away from the phone as his words sound further away. “Hey, Kill. Ready up the tow, we got a job to do.” 

Kill?

Then his voice sounds closer again. “Send me yer location, then, we’ll be right there to fix yer shitty car in time for supper.”

-*- 

It doesn’t take long before you hear the sound of a motorcycle approaching in the distance. You barely take notice because Kid talked about a tow truck, so it must be someone who came to the beach just in time to catch the sunset. 

But when the red-and-black Harley comes to a full stop next to you, you turn, brow raised. It is Kid. He drops the kickstand, steadying the bike as he dismounts in a move that’s way sexier than it should be, before removing his helmet, a huge grin already plastered on his lips. 

You can’t stop a smile from curving your lips at the sight of him. His cocky attitude rubbing off on you in all the right ways. 

“Ye did miss me.” Tilting his head to the side while running his fingers through his unkempt hair, he gives you a once-over, his brow raising in appreciation, and you bite your lower lip at the attention. “Lookin’ good there, Sparkles.”

You pull away from the car and cross your arms, fighting a shiver since the weather has turned nippy now that the sun has just set. “You’re quite conceited, aren’t you?”

Kid places his helmet on the handlebar of the bike and removes his leather jacket, not missing the way your eyes linger on his exposed biceps because he’s only wearing a greased-up grey tank top. You raise your brow as you notice that this time he has a metal prosthetic arm on - he didn’t have it when you met him at the farm. “Maybe. But yer still oglin’ me, so I think I have a right to be.” His grin deepens. 

You feel your cheeks burn as you clear your throat and look away, choosing to point at the car’s open hood instead. “Shitty car’s dead. Can you fix it or not?”

Kid stares at you with that impossibly cocky grin for a few more moments before reaching under his bike seat and grabbing a tool belt. 

“‘Course I can fix it, City Girl. It’s what I do.” Then he drapes his jacket over your shoulders, not even stopping to acknowledge the gesture. “Hold this, will ya?” he says nonchalantly, but you’re pretty sure he did it because he saw you shiver. 

After a few moments of fidgeting with the engine, curses spewing from his lips like a second language, he grunts. “Shit’s really dead. I need parts. Gonna take it to the shop and finish up there, okay?”

You tilt your head to the side, your arms hugging your body, though now that you’ve slipped on his jacket you feel warmer. In more ways than one, because it smells so much like him that you swear you’re becoming intoxicated.

“Weren’t you going to bring the tow?”

As if on cue, you hear a truck approach and stop next to you. A tall man with a blonde mane descends from the steps, the lower half of his face is hidden behind a skull-patterned black-and-white bandana, his eyes shadowed behind bangs. 

“Hey, Killer,” Kid says. “Meet Sparkles,” he adds while pointing at you with his thumb. “Sparkles, this is Killer, he works with me.”

You frown. “Nice to meet you, Killer. That’s not my name, though.” 

“Sorry, it’s City Girl,” Kid adds with a shit-eating grin before you can even say your name.

“It’s not!” You stamp your foot, much like an exasperated child, and Kid grins, rolling his wrench between two fingers while leaning against your car. Then you turn back to Killer and introduce yourself properly. 

“Nice to meet you too,” he answers. “I’m sorry if my friend has no manners, I don’t condone his behaviour at all.” Kid grumbles something at him, and Killer’s eyes wrinkle as he turns back to his friend, almost as if he’s grinning behind his mask. “I get what you meant the other day, man, I can see why you were so smitten.”

Your eyes widen as your mouth opens in shock. Kid leans away from the car, his hands balling into fists as he bares his teeth at Killer. “What the fuck, man?”

Killer raises his hands in mock defense, and his shoulders shake as if he’s containing a laugh. “Just stating facts, brother.”

Does this mean that Kid talked to him about you? You feel your cheeks flush with heat. You have to admit that there’s definitely an attraction between you two. Clearly, the banter and flirting come easily, the question is, is this a door you want to open? So soon after your breakup? Or is this exactly the time to open it and see what’s on the other side? Even if it’s just a fun ride?

“Shut up, asshole, and haul this piece of junk out of here. Needs new spark plugs, I’ll take care of it in the shop.” Kid’s still grumbling, his eyes not even meeting yours after the revelation, which clearly means that it’s true. 

Killer raises one of his brows, his head tilting like he’s suspicious. “Plugs? But we have–”

“In the shop, ‘k?” Kid nearly snarls, and Killer shuts up with a slight, barely audible chuckle. Then he starts to prepare the tow, readying the cable to latch it onto your car. 

You sigh, looking at your car, the banter and fun forgotten for a moment. “Well, crap.” You grab your phone, already thinking about calling Nami or Robin to come rescue you when Kid speaks. 

“Need a ride, Sparkles?” Your eyes leave your phone to look at your car, then at the tow, then back at Kid with a puzzled expression. Yes, maybe you can ride the tow truck back to the shop, it would certainly be closer to home. “Nuh-uh. There.” He uses two fingers to press against your cheek and move your head so you’re staring at his motorcycle, and your breath hitches. “Aye. That one.”

Biting your lower lip to try and suppress a grin, you nod softly. Riding on the back of a motorcycle with Kid? Hell yeah. Shit. Maybe you’ll be opening that door way sooner than you expected. “Sure.” You answer, not sure if you managed to hide your excitement, maybe not even caring if you didn’t. 

“Kill–”

“Yeah, yeah, meet you at the shop, got it.” You can almost perceive the amusement behind Killer’s words, even though you can’t see his lips to confirm if he’s smiling or not. 

You take your purse and keys from the car, handing the latter to Killer, and then approach the bike, looking at it both in awe and slight fear. Kid, never letting his smirk falter, grabs the helmet and hands it to you. “Ye can keep the jacket on, it gets cold.”

You nod and slip on the helmet. Your fingers search the underside for the straps, but as you struggle, Kid tuts and reaches, meaning to strap it on for you in a gesture that’s way more intimate than it should be. You look at him through the opening in the visor and his eyes dart to yours twice - as he fumbles with the strap - before he snaps it shut with a grunt. “Stop yer starin’.”

“I wasn’t!” You counter with a muffled voice.

“Ye were! Makin’ me fumble with this piece of shit while I– fuck. Got it!”

“Smooth, man,” Killer says as he passes both of you, moving to pull the car in with the winch.

“Shut the fuck up!” Kid grumbles and sits on the bike. “Come on, place yer foot on the peg and hop on.”

You do as he tells you, and once you're seated, you hesitate. Where should you put your hands? Around him? That's the obvious choice, but is it too intimate? 

Kid turns his face to look at you over his shoulder and reaches for your hands. “Grab on, I ain't gonna bite ye.” Though his cheeky grin tells you differently, and now you're glad the helmet is covering your flushing cheeks. He places your hands over his stomach and tells you to interlock your fingers and hold on tight. “Hang on, Sparkles, I drive fast.”

You barely have time to reply when he starts revving the engine. The powerful bike trembles and roars beneath you, and you instantly clench your thighs against Kid for support, holding your arms around him tighter. 

He barks a smug laugh, removes the kickstand, and starts to drive. The wind blows, rushing through you at an incredible speed, the bike roars and Kid drives it like he owns the road, like he has complete control of the machine beneath him and the winding asphalt beneath the wheels. 

It makes your breath hitch and your stomach tighten up. Astonishingly, not from the speed, but from the fact that this cockiness, this assuredness of his, is infuriating. 

And frankly, hot as hell. 

The road stretches ahead without any curves, and he tests both the bike and you by picking up speed. Gritting your teeth, you hug him tighter, feeling the heat radiate through his body - even though the wind is quite chilling. You swear you feel his shoulders shake with laughter.

As you reach town limits, he slows down, one hand loses its grip on the handlebar, and pats your thigh two times. “Ye alright, there, City Girl? Too much adrenaline for ye?”

You can’t see his face, but you know by his tone that he’s grinning. Smug asshole. “Fine!” You yell back, gritting your teeth again to ground yourself. By the time he pulls up at the farmhouse, you exhale a breath you didn’t even realise you were holding back. 

“Got ye home safe, Sparkles.” Kid grins, and you struggle to remove the helmet until he helps you. His fingers linger on your jaw for a fraction of a second longer than they should, and the skin he touches burns. 

“Geez, Kid. You drive like a freaking maniac.” You get off the bike on unsteady feet, and he chuckles as you have to use his arms for support. 

“Maniac? It’s called skill, sweetheart!” 

You scoff, fingers threading through your hair to fix it as a lazy grin curves your lips. “It’s called being reckless, that’s what it is.”

“Oi, yer home safe! Stop complainin’.” He gets into your space, leaning his head down to look right into your eyes, and damn it, his eyes are intense. “Ye liked it.”

The faintest of blushes spreads through your cheeks as you turn and walk one step back to regain some distance from him. “I won’t stroke your ego, it’s already large enough as it is.” Kid snorts, and you know he’s about to pull a dirty joke, so you remove his jacket from your shoulders and extend it to him. “Here. Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

Kid takes one look at the jacket, crosses his arms, and leans against the bike, tilting his head slightly. “Keep it. Looks good on ye.”

“It’s huge,” you say and immediately purse your lips.

“I know.” Kid grins, and you chuckle, curling your fingers around the fabric, you nudge it towards him.

“Take it, Kid, thank you.”

Kid sighs, extending his hand towards the jacket, but when he grabs the collar, he pulls, making you stumble and crash right into his solid chest. Instinctively, his other hand comes up to steady you, wrapped securely around your waist. “Tell ye what, Sparkles,” his hot breath fans your eyelids as you raise your head to meet his gaze, and his scent engulfs you - grease, gasoline, and metal. “Wear it a little longer, and when it smells like ye…” Kid lets out a low grunt, his eyes dropping to your lips for a fraction of a second. “Give it back.”

Shit.

Fuck.

This is dangerous territory right here. Since you’ve met Kid - cocky, smug, reckless, loud, infuriating - you’ve been walking on thin ice. Everything about him screams ‘bad decision,’ but he also feels right for what you need at the moment. Even when you thought that what you needed was peace and quiet - here comes the loudest man you’ve ever met to prove you wrong. 

Kid lets go of the jacket and removes his hand from your waist, almost as if he, too, is weighing the pros and cons of letting this attraction run its course. Because you can’t deny it: you’re attracted to Kid like a moth to a flame. And, from the looks of it, it’s reciprocated. 

Ignoring the cold feeling his lack of touch leaves in your body, you clear your throat and put the jacket back over your shoulders, trying to suppress a shiver that has nothing to do with the cold, from shaking you. 

“Okay. Thanks. Erm… my car?” Steering the conversation to safer topics seems like the most sensible thing to do. 

Kid clears his throat too, his flesh hand rubbing the back of his neck. “It’ll be fixed by tomorrow mornin’, swing by whenever.” You nod and turn again, your stomach churning at the thought of him leaving, and you sigh. “Might even give ya a discount, City Girl.”

You turn your head back, lips curving into an easy grin. “Yeah?”

“Nah. A man’s gotta take home the bacon.” You let out a chuckle as he gets back on his bike, revving the engine loud just to piss you off. “Don’t think too hard about me.” He winks, and you bite your lower lip, trying to suppress a grin. 

“Think about your cocky ass? In your dreams, Kid.”

Kid places the helmet on his head, hiding the cheeky grin before replying to you. “Sparkles, ye are the star of my dreams.” Then, he slams the visor down, gunning the engine of the bike as it roars to life. The front tire barely budges, but he turns the back of the bike in a sharp turn, letting it slide effortlessly against the gravel as he faces the road. 

Then he speeds off, leaving you staring at the dust he left behind with slightly parted lips. 

Bad decisions. Oh, for sure.

You enter the house, shaking your head, your body still hot from Kid’s touch, your head still light from infinite possibilities. But before you even hang your purse, Shanks appears, coming from the living room with a bit of a sway to his steps. 

“Hey, Bug!” he exclaims. “Was that a bike?” Your father points at the door.

You nod with another heavy sigh. “Stupid car broke down on me, had to call Kid to try and fix it. Killer took it to the garage, but it needs parts, so I’ll pick it up tomorrow.” Shanks seems to sober up quickly. His brow raises as if you haven’t answered his question, so you continue. “Kid brought me home on his bike, so yes, that was a bike.”

Shanks purses his lips, his gaze now lingering on the oversized jacket you’re wearing - a leather jacket that’s clearly not yours because Shanks doubts you have something with the logo of Kid’s garage slapped on the back.

But he doesn’t say anything. 

And neither do you.

-*-

Shanks is already sipping his coffee when you come down for breakfast, still yawning. You had some trouble falling asleep because sleep just wouldn’t come. Every time you closed your eyes, you got a whiff of his scent - that seemed to have clung to your very being - and your mind took you to places where you didn’t want it to.

Even though some of those fantasies were quite interesting.

“Morning, Dad,” you mutter as you fill up your own cup of coffee. “Want some eggs? Toast? Fruit?”

Your father raises his eyebrow at your dishevelled state but keeps his comments to himself. “Toast sounds good, Bug, thank you.”

You nod, yawn again, find two slices of bread for your father, a bagel for you, and stick them in the toaster. 

“Trouble sleeping?” Shanks takes butter and some jam from the fridge, placing them on the table alongside some strawberries and grapes. 

“Yeah, I guess. Something kept me up.” Not looking at your father is the right choice because you can already feel your cheeks heating up. Shanks hums, and you think that might be the end of it because he starts talking about the game and how his team ‘completely sucked’ and how he’s not sure why he’s still a fan.

It’s not until both your plates are cleaned that he finally says the words he has been mulling over. “See, honey, I feel like I need to say something.” He huffs in exasperation as he starts clearing the plates, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation. 

“Be careful dealing with Kid, okay?”

What?

“Dealing with Kid?”

“Yeah, I mean… You just met him, and he already gave you his jacket?” Shanks scratches the back of his head, avoiding eye contact. 

“Because it was cold.”

“Sure, but the bike ride–”

“I needed a ride, I knew you wouldn’t be in a fit state to drive, and before I bothered my friends, he volunteered. Dad, I don’t get where this is going.”

Shanks sighs and mutters something unintelligible under his breath. “Right, you’re right. It’s just, you don’t know him very well, and he’s… well, he’s a good man but… well… he’s dangerous.”

Raising a brow, you continue cleaning up the table, still deciding whether you should ask him to elaborate or just let it go. 

He elaborates. 

“He’s an angry man who deals with situations with his fists rather than his brain. I just want you safe, Bug.”

“Dad, as you said, I just met him. He’s fixing my car. That’s it.” But is it, though? “You don’t have to worry, okay? Thanks for the heads-up, though, now come on. Let's feed the animals before I go pick up my car.”

He nods and follows you outside, clearly not meaning to add anything else. But you can’t shake the feeling that his words were very ominous and that you should be careful around Kid. 

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|Chapter 2|

[iibgdrgn]

not a rookie anymore | kwon ji-yong

pairing: kwon ji-yong x male reader

word count: 4.4k

warnings: age gap, reader is 26

a/n: hellooo first time posting here! i'm really excited to share my works, hope you enjoy them. likes and comments are rlly appreciated. btw english isn't my first language so i'm sorry if there's any mistake!

He saw you for the first time when you were just a rookie at the agency. A skinny, quiet boy who barely spoke unless spoken to. You didn't stand out much back then, not in the way that you made people turn heads in the hallway now. You were polite, focused, and tried your best not to be a bother. He never really talked to you while you were there. That wasn't surprising. G-Dragon wasn't known for idle chatter, especially not with rookies. Everyone understood that his time was sacred, absorbed by his music. And you? You were just one of many hopefuls trying to build a name in the same building that already echoed with his. When he walked past, you and your group would line up like soldiers, bowing in sync with the well-practiced chorus. "Good morning, Mr. Kwon."you'd all say in unison. In response, he would just give a slight bow. That small gesture was enough to send your group into chaos once he was out of sight.

G-Dragon was already a star at YG at the time. He was around 29 years old, and you guys were about 18 or 19, so yeah, it was pretty normal to feel overwhelmed just by his presence.

Time moved forward, as it always does. Years passed, and your group actually found success in the industry. By 2023, G-Dragon had left the agency, leaving your group as YG's main male artist. It was strange, at first, being the ones younger trainees bowed to, watching your posters replace the ones you used to stare at. Your fifth and sixth albums did well. The fanbase grew louder, the stages got bigger. You signed a five-year contract a few months ago, keeping the group active at least until 2030. You were happy with how things were turning out. This was everything you used to dream about back when you were just a trainee. Sometimes, it felt like a dream, like one day you'd just wake up as a teenager again, dreaming of becoming the man you were now. But fortunately, that never happened. The only thing you ever woke up to was your alarm telling you it was time to head to the studio.

You weren't much of a fan of naps, sleep was never something you craved in the middle of the day. But today had been long, the gym had drained more energy than usual, and your body gave in. Just an hour, you told yourself. Just enough to recharge.

The alarm buzzed again at 8:00 p.m, dragging you reluctantly out of sleep. You lay there for a minute, still tangled in the warmth of your blanket, wishing you could ignore it. But the album was almost done, and the timeline was tight. With some luck, and a few more long nights, it'd be ready before 2024 ended.

You pulled on a hoodie and a beanie that hid your still-messy hair. The drive to YG didn't take long. It never did. That was the point. You'd picked your apartment for this exact reason, because inspiration didn't care what time it was. When a melody hit at 3 a.m., you wanted to be five minutes from a mic, not twenty. You didn't like waiting.

A few minutes later, you arrived and headed straight to the studio. Security knew you by now, so you passed through without much pause, nodding politely before heading to the elevator. The button for the sixth floor lit up under your finger, and a soft hum filled the space as the elevator began its climb.

You leaned back against the wall, eyes half-lidded, letting your mind drift over the tasks ahead. Nothing too intense tonight. Just stitching the members' vocals together, adjusting the mix so everything sat just right. It sounded actually pretty fun.

The studio was at the very end of the corridor. As you walked through the hallway, you passed BLACKPINK's dance practice room, TREASURE's, and what used to be BIGBANG's. It didn't carry a name anymore. The plaque had been removed. Now, it was just another practice room, available to whoever booked it first. You glanced at it, only briefly, and kept walking. Your own group's room came into view, but you weren't heading there tonight. That room was for choreography, and for that, you needed to finish the song first.

Three hours slipped in a blink, music always had that effect on you. When you were deep into a track, time stopped making sense. Still, your body knew what your mind refused to admit, you needed a break before the frustration took over completely.

You left the studio and headed down to the cafeteria. At this hour, it was nearly deserted, just a couple of late staff. You grabbed a coffee and a small box of milk from the fridge for your usual combo; latte. Back at the studio, you leaned against the desk, your coffee in hand. The screen still glowed with the open track, the same section playing on loop. You ignored it for now and reached for your phone as you noticed you hadn't checked Instagram in hours.

A few messages waited in your inbox, mostly from friends, or stylists sending you stuff to approve. You answered the ones that needed it, then tapped into stories. A few updates from the guys private accounts, someone out to eat, another complaining about dance practice. Then came the reels, your favorite thing. You liked one about cute bunnies eating carrots, another one with a cover of one of your group's songs. Then came the scroll. Thirty minutes disappeared like vapor, your thumb moving almost on autopilot. You didn't even realize how long you'd been lost in your phone until the room started to feel too quiet again.

Break over.

But before getting back to work, you opened the camera. Your coffee still sat on the desk, and behind it, the track was still open on the monitor. You snapped the photo, added a black-and-white filter and posted it to your story. Then, you locked your phone and pushed it face down. Time to finish the song.

Your plan to avoid stressing, to just let things flow, fell apart. Another three hours passed, but this time they were heavier, slower. The song wasn't coming together, no matter how many layers you adjusted or how many takes you revisited. Something was missing, not in the feeling, but in the structure. You isolated the rap section, played it again and again, counted every beat, scanned the waveform until your eyes blurred.

That was it. One beat missing or misplaced, either way, it threw the whole thing off. You stared at the screen, shoulders slumped. Re-recording wasn't in your plan, but now you didn't have a choice. The track wouldn't sit right until it was fixed. But your patience had long burned out. You hit save, closed the project, and leaned back in your chair.

The clock read 1:53 a.m. Your mind was fried, and you didn't want to think about the song anymore. Not tonight. So you stood, grabbed your phone, and left the studio.

The elevator dinged softly as it started descending. One floor, two floors. You leaned against the wall, shoulders slouched, thumb grazing your phone screen almost absentmindedly. You had completely forgotten about the story you'd posted earlier. The photo, that black-and-white shot of your coffee and the unfinished track, had gathered its usual storm of likes, enough answers to scroll for minutes.

But one notification made you freeze.

@ xxxibgdrgn had replied to your story.

Your stomach twisted. At first you didn't believe that was real. It had to be a fan account, you thought. But the blue check was there, the account was verified.

He didn't even follow you, you were sure of that. He had never interacted with you. Not once. Not being able to wait anymore, you tapped the notification, not really breathing.

"good taste."

That was all it said. Two words. But they came from him, G-Dragon. The idol of idols.

You stared at the message like it might disappear if you blinked too fast. The elevator doors opened with a soft ding, but you didn't move. You typed slowly. Paused. Deleted. Typed again.

"didn't think u'd even watch it. thanks tho."

And you sent it.

Then, your fingers hovered again. That reply had been polite, safe. But your thoughts were spinning too fast to stop. Your hands were already moving before your mind could fully catch up.

"kinda stuck on the track tonight. guess that coffee wasn't magic after all haha."

You hit send before you could overthink it more. The elevator doors had opened onto the lobby, and someone was waiting outside. A woman in a blazer stood there, eyebrows raised slightly, clearly wondering why you hadn't stepped out. You blinked like waking up from a trance, cheeks warming when you realized the small smile still on your face. You gave her a quick bow, muttering an apology, and stepped aside. As you slipped your phone into your pocket, you tried to school your expression, like it was no big deal. Like he was just another senior artist. Like you weren't currently texting one of the most legendary names in the industry. You wouldn't open your phone again until you were home, safe in the privacy of your living room, where you could stare at the screen in disbelief, smile and react like a complete idiot without anyone around to see it.

The parking lot was nearly empty. Only a few cars left under the flickering lights. Yours was parked right where you left it. The drive was short, just as you expected.

Inside your apartment, you dropped your keys onto the table with a soft clatter, slipped out of your sneakers, and let your bag slump beside the door. Your body headed straight for the couch before your mind even caught up. You sank into the cushions, the room dark except for the ambient glow from a streetlight filtering through the curtains.

You unlocked your phone. One message, the answer you were expecting.

"It's okay to be stuck sometimes. Keep digging."

You smiled. The words were simple, but they hit differently coming from him. You didn't even care about the text content, not really. It was the fact that it was real, a conversation between just the two of you. You stared at the screen, thumbs hovering. Then finally typed.

"noted. any recs?"

Three minutes passed. Then four. You got up, wandered into the kitchen, opened the fridge just to grab a bottle of water you didn't really need. Every few seconds, you glanced back at your phone like it might light up from across the room.

Ten minutes. You gave up and turned the TV on. Some late-night drama flickered across the screen, but you weren't really watching. Your mind was elsewhere. You were halfway through considering turning everything off and going to bed when your phone buzzed on the table. Your hands moved faster than you meant them to.

"Listening to old music always work for me. Maybe start with jazz. Then go somewhere weirder."

You smiled, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You felt weirdly proud, the words felt like advice passed through some secret doorway, these were his methods, his go-to comforts, and for me reason, the idea made your chest feel a little lighter.

"thank you. i will :)"

You picked up your headphones and scrolled through your spotify library. You found a playlist, Coltrane, Davis, Baker. The soft brass tones filled your ears as you leaned back into the couch again, one hand resting on your stomach, the other still loosely holding the phone. That's when the questions came.

Why was Ji-yong texting you?

No. Mr. Kwon. G-Dragon. You corrected yourself, out of instinct.

Years ago, it would've made sense. Same agency, same building. But now? He wasn't part of YG anymore. He didn't owe you a reply, or even attention. You weren't even sure he'd ever looked directly at you when he still roamed the company halls. Back then, he hardly spoke to anyone, an untouchable figure orbiting on a higher level, unreachable even to other idols.

Did he remember you from those years? Was this some moment of nostalgia? Or was he just bored, scrolling through stories and replying on impulse?

You didn't have the answer.

But at some point, it stopped mattering.

Your thoughts blurred, softened by the music and the weight of the day. Somewhere between the second and third track, your breathing slowed. Your phone slipped from your hand, your headphones loosened and slid down to your shoulder.

The saxophone played on, a gentle lullaby for a mind still trying to understand what had just happened.

[...]

You didn't even know the reason for the party. One moment you were sprawled out on your bed, mind half-asleep, and the next, you were in the backseat of a car. Plus, you weren't alone, two of your group members tagged along, one of them being the one who actually got the invitation in the first place.

You arrived fashionably late, 1:30 a.m., to be exact, and the second you stepped inside, you understood what kind of party it was. A post-release celebration for a JYP group. You didn't recognize them at first, not by name, but the glossy poster set up by the entrance helped. You made sure to memorize a few of the members' faces, just in case you ran into them and had to offer the classic "congrats on the release" with a polite smile. Probably wouldn't happen anyway. The place was packed. Loud music, flashing colored lights, bodies moving to the beat in the center of the room while the songs of the group were being played.

You and your best friend, Yoon, gravitated toward the bar, not necessarily to drink, at least not yet, but because it was quieter there, away from the whirlwind of neon and sweaty excitement. You sat side by side, half-dancing to the rhythm as you sipped on sparkling water. Your best friend leaned his head on your shoulder with a dramatic sigh.

"Hey!" he shouted over the music, too close to your ear. "What if you text him? He's taking too loooong."

You raised an eyebrow, amused. "He's probably just late" you said, reaching for your phone anyway. He watched you like a hawk as you unlocked the screen. You opened Instagram to message the friend who was supposed to join you but hadn't shown up yet.

But the moment you opened your DMs, your friend bolted upright like he'd just been electrocuted.

"WHAT?" He said after jumping from your shoulder.

You blinked, confused and a little startled.

"What—what's wrong?"

He didn't even let you finish. He pointed a finger straight at your phone like it was a crime scene.

"YOU TALK TO G-DRAGON?!"

You froze, thumb hovering above the screen where the last messag with @ xxxibgdrgn sat quietly, far down in your inbox. Two weeks old now.

"I mean..." You shrugged, already feeling your face warm. "Yeah?"

"Yeah? Yeah?" His jaw dropped dramatically, exactly as you expected. He looked like you just told him you could time-travel. "So you're just casually dropping that you're friends with, like... a literal legend?"

"'Friends' is a stretch" you said, raising your brows. "He talked to me once."

Your friend gasped like he'd been stabbed.

"And he talked to you first?"

You looked back at your friend, trying not to smile.

"Don't make a big deal out of it."

He groaned loudly, sinking back onto his stool and running both hands through his hair. "This is—this is criminal," he muttered. "You've just been sitting on this information like it's nothing?"

You gave him a look. "What did you want me to do? Post a screenshot?"

"Yes!" he said instantly. "Wait — no. But also yes! Maybe on your private account or something! I just— how are you so calm about this?! I physically cannot not make a big deal out of it."

You laughed under your breath and slipped your phone back into your pocket. "Well, he hasn't messaged again, so maybe it wasn't a big deal."

He narrowed his eyes. "That's because you haven't messaged again."

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. He had a point.

A smug grin spread across his face. "Mhm. That's what I thought. You better send a 'hey' before someone else becomes his next muse or creative soulmate or whatever."

You rolled your eyes. "You're actually delusional."

"And you're in denial. Which makes this so much more entertaining."

You were about to answer when your phone buzzed in your hand, not a text this time, but a call. You raised your brows and showed the screen to your friend, Haeon. It was the one person missing from your golden trio.

"About time" you muttered, answering. "Where are you?"

"I think I'm lost" his voice came through, slightly muffled by the music and the unmistakable sounds of a party happening not where he was. "I ended up in some garden? There's, like... a statue of a dolphin? Or maybe it's a seal. I don't know, it's dark."

You pressed your fingers to your temple, trying not to laugh. "We're coming."

[ ... ]

You lost track of time. It had to be close to 3 a.m., maybe even later. But no one at the party seemed interested in checking the clock. The energy in the air was still alive, like it had just started an hour ago, not like people had been drinking and dancing for hours already. After finally locating your lost friend, the three of you made your way back to the bar. You didn't drink much, but enough to feel a little lighter, funnier. Your smile came easy, and your body moved without overthinking.

The three of you eventually made it to the dance floor. The music had shifted, it wasn't the JYP group's album anymore, but a mix of random tracks. You closed your eyes, letting your head move in slow circles, a grin tugging at your lips. Your friends were next to you, pulling out ridiculous, chaotic moves. You joined them, throwing your body into it, laughing so hard your stomach hurt.

"Show me what you got, show me what you got!" one of your friends shouted, pointing at the other like he was challenging him to a duel. Immediately, Haeon broke into a sloppy remix of your group's choreography. You clutched your stomach, wheezing with laughter, until he grabbed your hands and tried to get you to join in. You stumbled forward, giggling, trying to keep up. You attempted a few of the moves, but your limbs didn't fully cooperate, your balance thrown off by the drink and the sudden spotlight. You must've looked ridiculous.

That's when you heard a soft, amused laugh from nearby. Your head turned. It was a girl, unfamiliar face, but something in her energy made you instantly like her. She clapped playfully for your dancing, then gave you a slight, graceful bow.

"Can I borrow your friend?" she asked, gesturing toward the boy who still held your hand. You smiled and nodded before even thinking. She had the kind of presence people didn't say no to. You turned to your friend for confirmation, but he was already halfway through a spin, pulling her along with him. You laughed and stepped back, watching them disappear into the crowd.

You chuckled, then turned to Yoon, who was still grooving beside you.

"I wanna go to the bathroom," he said, breathless. "Wait for me, yeah?" You nodded.

Alone now, with no one to dance with, you decided it was time to rehydrate. You slipped away from the flashing lights, crossing the room until you reached the bar.

You sat at the bar, elbows resting against the cold counter. The bartender approached and you ordered a gin and tonic, something simple that wouldn't hit too hard, at least not immediately.

You took a small sip, relishing the way the cold spread across your tongue, the bitterness cutting through the heat rising in your face from all the dancing and laughing earlier. The air was cooler near the bar, a reprieve from the heat of the dance floor, and you let yourself enjoy the stillness.

And then you heard a voice.

"Good taste."

You blinked. For a second, you didn't move.

Kwon Ji-yong. You hadn’t noticed him sit down. Of course you hadn’t. He was leaning casually against the counter, a half-smile on his lips, one arm draped along the bar like he owned the space around him. Maybe he did.

He wore a loose-sleeved shirt, silky and half-unbuttoned, the light catching the fabric just right to show there was a tank top layered underneath, white, fitted. Around his neck hung a tie, barely tied, more decorative than anything. It was sky blue, with little daisy flowers printed all over it.

You found yourself staring. Too long. Way too long.

He was talking, probably, but your brain had gone momentarily blank. All you could think was that he looked like something out of a music video, and not one set in reality. Like a dream had decided to become physical. You blinked. Once. Twice. And then, finally, words stumbled out of your mouth.

"Do you only know two words or is that your thing now?" You said without thinking.

His smile didn't fade. "Depends who I'm talking to."

You laughed "I mean," you shrugged, turning toward him fully, "it was a decent opener."

He nodded once, like he already knew. "Mm. I liked it the first time," he said, his gaze steady, relaxed. "Thought I'd try it again. See if it still worked."

Then he chuckled, low and warm, shifting slightly on the barstool. One leg angled toward you now, knee brushing lightly against yours, not enough to call it a move, but enough to feel. There was no arrogance in the way he did it, no show. Just a quiet kind of presence, like he knew who he was and didn’t need to prove it. You let your eyes drift to his tie, to the small embroidered flowers dancing across the fabric. You bit the inside of your cheek, then gave in. He looked like a damn super model.

"You always dress like this at 3 a.m?"

He smirked. "Only when I think I'll meet someone worth impressing."

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling again.

"Smooth."

"I try."

And then there was silence, but not the kind that pushed people apart. The kind that asked you to stay in it. You let yourself keep looking, too long maybe, but he didn’t look away either. His gaze dropped briefly, tracing the curve of your jaw, then back up, slowly.

He leaned in just a little, not enough to close the space, just enough to make the air between you feel different.

"You know," he said, glancing down at your glass, "you've got a way of making it feel like we've done this before."

You blinked once, slowly. "Like we've met?"

He nodded, eyes still on you, soft and steady.

For a second, you didn't know what to do with that. So you brought your glass back up, hiding behind it as you took another sip, long, unhurried. The cold edge of the drink pressed against your lip, grounding you just enough to organize the words that were trying to form.

He didn't say anything else. Just waited, patient in a way most people weren't anymore. He wasn't filling the silence to make himself feel more interesting, wasn't trying to prove anything. That made you feel... strangely safe.

You lowered your glass slightly. "Actually... yeah. We did meet. Kind of."

His brows lifted, curious.

You smiled a little, more to yourself than to him. “Back when I debuted. I didn’t introduce myself or anything. I just… said hi. Maybe twice. You were always surrounded. And I looked—I looked really different.”

“How different?” he asked, low voice edged with intrigue.

“My hair was silver back then,” you said with a faint laugh. “Like, full-on mirrorball silver. I was also… skinnier. More bones than confidence. I avoided eye contact like it was radioactive.”

That smile of his grew, not wide, not flashy, just crooked and soft and real. “I remember.”

You looked up at him, a little startled. “Wait, seriously?”

He nodded again, eyes never leaving yours. “You were with your group. You all sang something for me.” A pause, then a light chuckle. “Crayon, right?”

Your jaw dropped a little. "Oh my God."

The scene crashed back into your brain like a splash of cold water, the harsh lights of the practice room, your group lined up awkwardly in front of him, voices cracking with nerves as you shouted Get your crayon! like your lives depended on it. YG had told you to do it. Said something about "earning respect the old-fashioned way."

“You’re kidding,” you whispered, half-mortified.

Ji-Yong chuckled softly. "It was cute."

You groaned, dropping your head into your hand. "YG encouraged us to serenade you. Like, seriously. Told us it might 'set the tone for our reputation.' So we just... went for it."

"I remember thinking you looked scared out of your mind," he said, amused.

"I was. I didn't even look at you."

Before he could answer, your phone buzzed sharply in your pocket, jolting you back to earth. You pulled it out with a sigh.

You snorted.

Ji-Yong raised an eyebrow. "Trouble?"

You held up the screen for him to see. "Emergency. Apparently Haeon is defending our honor with a handstand battle."

He laughed, quiet and sudden, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes crinkling. It was stupidly cute, and it made you smile too, involuntarily. “Sounds like a crisis.”

You pushed your chair back and stood, smoothing out your shirt. “I should go before someone films it and it turns into our next viral concept.”

“Could be iconic,” he teased, still grinning.

“Oh, we’d never recover,” you said with mock seriousness. Then, a little softer, “Thanks. For the drink company. And, you know, the unexpected blast of rookie-year trauma."

Ji-Yong leaned on the bar, fingers tapping lightly. “Anytime.” He gave a small, crooked smile.

You dipped your head slightly, a small, playful bow, and turned to go. You didn’t glance back right away, you made it to the edge of the crowd first. But curiosity won. You peeked.

He was still watching. Of course he was.

And when your eyes met again, his smile curved a touch more.

You didn’t wave. Didn’t say a word. But something warm nestled behind your ribs as you turned away again. Maybe that message he’d sent weeks ago wasn’t the whole story.

And then, in the corner of your eye, you spotted Haeon attempting a handstand, arms flailing, legs everywhere, before collapsing to the floor with a dramatic thud.

You sighed.

Yeah. Definitely a crisis.

[captainreecejames]

Just Friends || MV1 Oneshot

part of the my ex is a footballer series [masterlist] [my ex series masterlist] [max smau]

pairings max verstappen x reader with some ex!ben chilwell x reader in the smau part, danielle campbell is the faceclaim but reader is not described in this part so imagine however

word count 5.2k

warnings talks about depression, injuries and blood dealing with hands, hospitals and medical stuff, mentions of jos verstappen, cursing, angst and fluff, not proofread so probably shitty writing and mistakes

notes this took longer than I initially imagined because i was stuck on how to get it started, but after a good nights sleep and words of encouragement from @coff33andb00ks I got this puppy started. This fic includes Adrian Newey as the point red bull person so I could avoid horner and max as an almost dog dad because I'm a dog person. It starts in the middle of the 2022 season and goes through the 2023 season. If there is enough interest, I might continue to write these two together because I really enjoyed it and there is more to explore.

songs to listen to while reading you're losing me-taylor swift / so long, london-taylor swift / same mistakes-one direction / lose you to love me-selena gomez

You met Max on accident, according to you. When you talked to your father about it years later, you would learn it was no accident. 

><

He was golfing with Adrian Newey and more coworkers but had forgotten his wallet, so he asked you to drop it off.

Now you knew he worked at Red Bull, so really it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that you would eventually meet Max Verstappen, but you walked into the country club expecting to meet some older man, not the reigning Formula 1 world champion. 

How'd Max know who to approach? Your father had shown him a picture of you so he would know who to look for. While you were searching the lobby, Max had come up to you, saying your name.

You had plenty of experience meeting famous people, even one’s who knew your name before meeting (perks of dating a football star) but it was still a shock. 

The meeting consisted of shy words and you fumbling around your bag for your father’s wallet and that’s it. No matter how much experience you had with famous athletes, it would still be weird meeting them. You wouldn’t see Max again for a few weeks, he was busy with races and staying in Monaco.

The next time would be at the base, once again you were dropping something off for your dad. This time it was lunch that he just insisted he needed, not whatever was being served in the cafe that day. 

You stood in the lobby, waiting for your father to get out of a meeting, admiring the trophies on display when Max came up to you. 

He will argue in the future that you admiring his trophies made him interested, and that he wasn’t over a little bragging if it got the attention of a pretty girl. That argument ignores the scheming that your father and Adrian had done, from complaining about your lack of interest in the sport to complaining about you needing to get out more. (Your lack of interest in the sport wasn’t true, just that you preferred Ferrari over the local team.)

So with the subliminal messaging from your father, Max was interested in you.

“I thought you didn’t really like the sport,” he said coming to stand at your side. 

You jumped slightly, not expecting anyone to approach you. “Why would you think that?”

“Your father.” You turn to him with a confused face and Max decided to clarify. “He talks about you a lot.”

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t listen to half of what he says.”

“Really? Even when he talks about the chassis?” His words are teasing and you think he’s flirting with you.

“Maybe that you can listen to.” You shrug, turning back to the cabinet. “He’s really just jealous that I prefer Ferrari.” 

Of fucking course, the Italian team. “A fan of Leclerc?” You can hear the bitterness in his voice and it shocks you a little how quickly he changes his mood.

“He’s okay,” you shrug again. Max thinks that your nonchalantness is annoying, why can’t you just admit you find Charles hot and move on.

(Hidden in the stairwell, Adrian and your father are a little nervous. They can tell that this isn’t going as well as hoped.)

“Schumacher has been my favorite, but I think of the current drivers its Vettel.” Now Max realizes that the two of you are standing in front of Sebastian’s 2010 championship trophy, and he feels a little embarrassed he didn’t realize sooner. “I’m a little bitter he didn’t win the championship with Ferrari.”

There are more “chance” meetings, but the conversation flows much easier now. Like the dinner at Adrian Newey’s house and after, when he has to give you a ride back to your new place because your parents don’t want to leave yet. Or the time when it’s suggested that you give him a ride to Luton airport because it’s on your way to London. Or even the holiday party at the end of the year where he has to give you a ride again because you’re tipsy and shouldn’t drive. 

It’s the airport drive when you both realize that you’re being set up by Adrian and your father, which causes a lot of awkwardness between the both of you during your goodbyes.

You go back home a few days later and scold your father for the set up. You don’t need another relationship right now, you tell him. He says he knows, but Max makes you happy in a way he hasn’t seen in years and that makes him happy. Your mother reminds him that you need to be happy without a man first and he says he’ll give up the endeavors to push you on to Max. If Adrian happens to come up with any more ideas that's not his fault, the man is a genius afterall.

The holiday party is more of an accident than anything, your father and mother leave much earlier than you, and so you are stuck with Max to drive you home.

He complained about the hotel he was staying at, so you offer him some time in your apartment to get away from fancy places and he takes you up on it. And now that you're home, it does’t seem like a bad idea to have another drink, just to take the edge off of having Max in your place. 

“Would you like another drink?” you offer while making your own gin and tonic. He stares around at the quiet kitchen, taking in the place that feels very you. “Or perhaps some tea?” He shakes his head no, eyes catching a picture of you hugging Ben. It’s an old picture, from when Leicester City won the league and you’ve only recently dug it out of the box it was sitting in. 

“I thought you were single,” he says, picking up the picture to examine it closer.

“I am,” you answer, turning around from the counter to look at him. You’re about to ask him where the question came from when you see what’s in his hands. “That’s from 2016, when Leicester City won the league.” Max nods like he understands, but he doesn’t.

“Who’s this?” he points to Ben.

“Ben Chilwell.” Maybe if you’re just vague enough, he’ll drop it. He doesn’t.

“Okay,” he draws it out. “Who is he to you?”

Not much of anything anymore, is what you want to say. You settle for something vague again. “A friend.”

“Looks like more than a friend.” Is Max trying to provoke you or something? He can tell you’re growing frustrated with him and it makes him feel guilty. “Sorry, I just, don’t know much about your life before here.”

You sigh, deciding that alcohol probably isn’t the best drink for now. You move to the kettle next to the stove, opting for tea to help calm you down. 

“Ben and I dated until a couple months ago, I moved back home right after we broke up.” He nods along with your story and you continue the tea making process. “Ben and I were childhood sweethearts, together since we were like 14 years old. So that makes,” it takes you a minute to do the math in your head, “12 years together.” You don’t turn to see what Max’s face looks like. A lot of people during your relationship with Ben were in awe of how long you were together, but there were some who thought it was silly and childish. Who stayed with someone they were dating since 14? (Apparently not you.)

You thought it was romantic up until a few months before the break up. Childhood sweethearts, best friends to lovers, boy next door, all tropes you loved in books and you were living it in real life! Until it wasn’t. Until you moved in the middle of a pandemic to a new city with no support system and became depressed. Until Ben needed support you and you couldn’t make yourself see that giving him everything was leaving you with nothing. 

It took an intervention from your parents to see that you were depressed, and an offhand comment about marriage from Ben to see that the relationship wouldn’t go anywhere new.

“What happened?”

“He didn’t want to marry me.”

><

“I’m just not sure I’m want to marry her, yet,” Ben says to the group. There’s a pause before he says yet, like someone made a face and he’s trying to placate them.

What the fuck? you want to ask. You want to scream it, really, because what the fuck does he mean by that? You’ve been together for over ten years, he’s said since Leicester that he only wants you, for the rest of his life. And now... now he doesn’t know? How the fuck do you not know? How can he not know? It makes you angry, the most emotion you’ve felt in probably months and it’s anger at your boyfriend.

Your grip on your glass is tightening, turning your knuckles white with the force and you worry the glass will shatter in your hand.

It does, but you don’t feel it. You don’t hear the glass shattering in your hand or on the floor, don't feel the splash of ice, gin, and tonic on your legs.

What you feel is something akin to clarity, because you’ve been living in a fog for months, probably the two years you’ve been in London and now you know how Ben feels. If he doesn’t want to marry you now, he probably won’t ever want it.

It takes your friend coming over and putting a hand on your shoulder for you to realize that something is physically wrong. That your hand is bleeding from glass cuts and you’re standing in a puddle of water and alcohol and some blood.

Emma says your name a little louder to grab your attention and now people are staring at you, wondering what’s caused the glass to shatter in your hand. She ignores them, pulling you across the room so she can take care of you.

Unfortunately, the glass is too deep and you have to be taken to an emergency room, where the nurses and doctors fuss over your hand. They ask you questions about how it happened, you explain that a glass shattered in your hands. They're suspicion is eased when Emma corroborates your story. It's soon after that you're allowed to go home.

All this time, Ben hasn’t come running into the room desperate to find you, and that reminds you why you’re here in the first place. Because Ben isn’t sure he wants to marry you.

><

“That’s how you got the scars on your hand?” Max is gentle when he takes your hand in his, holding it so delicately like you might break. You nod, but don’t pull away from him. His touch is soft and it makes you feel something you haven’t felt in a while. His hand turns so you can see the own scar on his hand. “I got this one from Jimmy, my cat.” He lets you run a finger over the scratch on the back of his hand. You run your hand over it one more time and Max get’s goosebumps from your touch.

You look up at him from your hands, your eyes roaming his face and seeing how sincere he is. It makes you nervous. 

You pull your hands back, stepping away to grab a mug for your tea and busy your hands with something besides his own.

Max can see you close off on him, but the story isn’t over yet. “What happened after the hospital?”

><

“Are you going to tell me why this happened?” Emma asks finally, walking with you out of the ED. She’s stayed the whole time, occasionally popping out to call your other friends and update them on the situation. 

It’s on the tip of your tongue to tell her, but you know what she’ll say: 'break up with him already, it’s not going anywhere and you’re obviously hurting over this. '

It’s not what you want to hear, you love Ben so much because you’ve always loved him, he’s all you’ve ever known and it used to be so good, so you know it can go back to being good.

It has to. You need it to. 

So you try to laugh it off, say that your grip is much stronger than you thought and that there must have been a hairline fracture in the glass.

But Emma doesn’t buy it. She lets you try to joke your way out of this, lets you laugh uncomfortably as she stares at you, and then pulls you to a halt at the corner. Your uneasy smile falls and you sigh. You know better than to try and hide this from her. 

“Ben said something,” it’s a whisper, like the quieter you say it makes it hurt less. She waits for you to continue, knowing that you’ll explain if she doesn’t push too hard. You take a deep breath, hoping that the air will do something, anything to make it easier to say out loud. “He’s not sure if he wants to marry me.” You hold the pause like he did, adding the yet in a pointed tone. With how much Ben has hurt you, you still want to spare him the criticism. You love him.

Emma immediately goes off, like you know she would, so you tune it out. It’s nothing you haven’t heard in the last year. 

The traffic light turns green, and you begin your walk back to the carpark, looking around the spaces to find your friend's car.

“YN!” another voice shouts. It’s Ben. 

He’s jogging to you across the lot, eyes a little wide like he’s been panicking for a while. “Why didn’t you grab me before leaving?” He means to direct the question to Emma, but he’s looking at you and you feel like he’s blaming you. “I was looking for you across the house until someone finally told me that you left for the emergency department. I was worried sick.” He looks it, you think. He does care. He wouldn’t look like that if he didn’t care. “You weren’t answering your phone, and-“ he cuts himself off as he stares at your hand. “What the hell happened?”

Oh- he doesn’t know. 

“She heard you,” Emma answers. You want to stop her, explain for yourself so you can just go home and sleep.

“What?” Ben asks, confusion across his face for a second before he realizes. You heard him. You heard him. “You weren’t meant to hear that.”

That’s his excuse?

“That’s your excuse?” Emma takes the words from of your mouth, but not the anger from your body, you clench your bandaged hand, wincing when it pulls at the stitches. Ben is still looking at you, but you’re unable to read him. “She wasn’t meant to fucking hear that?” Her voice is shrill and it grates on you because of a headache, but you know she means well. “You know what, fuck you Ben Chilwell! Go fucking rot in ditch!” With that she pulls you away from him, rushing the two of you towards her car so she can drive you to her home.

><

“That’s his excuse?” Max’s tone is just like Emma’s on that night and still you want to defend Ben. Your relationship is long over with the footballer, but that doesn’t mean you don’t love him. 

“I was a mess then,” you tell him, pouring your water into the cup, “I wouldn’t want to marry me either.”

“But he loved you, and you don’t say something like that about someone you love.” Max looks angry next to you, and that scares you even more. Not because of his anger, but because he clearly cares so much and you’re not sure if you deserve it. 

“Listen to me,” Max grabs your arms, pulling you to face him in your small kitchen. “Friends, boyfriends, people who love you-“ (Do his hands squeeze you harder on friends or boyfriends?) “They don’t talk about you like that behind your back. And also they notice when you’re gone, when you’re hurt, when you aren’t’ yourself.”

“But he was also hurting,” there are tears in your eyes from his words because you believe them, but also you still love Ben.

“And so were you, clearly. Yet you could tell something was wrong with him and he couldn’t see it in you?” Max has known you for only a few months, and has spent even less time physically with you, but he sees you and the way your brain works so clearly and that’s really scary. He must see something in your eyes because then he backs off, taking a step away to put distance between your bodies and space to breathe.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, “I didn’t mean to get so intense.” You shake your head, trying to put away the thoughts of his beautiful blue eyes staring into your own. “Just sometimes, I really want people to know that they deserve better.”

“No, it’s okay.” You pull the tea bag out of the water, looking down for the tiny plate to leave it on. “You’re not the first person to say that to me and you probably won’t be the last.” He nods, watching you spoon sugar into the tea. “But thank you for saying that, sometimes," you pause, "sometimes, it’s good to be reminded.”

><

Your friendship grows from there, but it doesn’t evolve into anything romantic. You’re clearly still healing from Ben and no matter how much he thinks about you while he’s in Monaco or off at a race, you need time.

So instead your flat becomes his base when he’s needed at the factory. He can leave clothes and toiletries at your place without worry, he can sneak a nice home cooked meal from you or your parents when he’s there, and he doesn’t have to deal with shitty hotel mattresses. (Even though it’s a Five Star hotel.)

He meets your friends when a girls night overlaps with some sim testing. They really like him and can see that his awkward charm has pulled you in.

You meet Danny Ric at the beginning of the 2023 season, when Red Bull decides to make him their reserve driver, and the two of you are like two peas in a pod. (On the plane back to Monaco Danny asks him when he’s finally going to ask you out.)

(Max shakes his head and tells him that you two are just friends, because that’s what you need. Just friends.)

Max invites you to the Monaco Grand Prix, but you decline, not interested in the media scrutiny that comes with that particular race. You say yes to the Spanish Grand Prix in Barcelona, but after he peaks at the invite list he tells you it’s probably not the best idea. You agree with him when you finally get him to tell you why you're uninvited. The Silverstone Grand Prix is during a girls trip, and with how busy it gets, you both drop the subject for a while. 

When Max clinches his third championship in Qatar you finally decide that you need to go to a race. The next one is in Texas, but it doesn’t work with your schedule so you get the passes for Mexico.

><

The Mexican Grand Prix is the perfect race to join. It’s Checo’s home race, so the focus is on him instead of Max. You stand to the back of the garage, hiding from view on Friday and Saturday. Occasionally you’ll talk with some engineers you’ve met before or share a few minutes with Adrian, but most of the time is in hiding Max’s drivers room with him. 

Most of Sunday is spent talking with the stars in the garage, explaining why you’re here and how you know people. You avoid any interviews with Sky Sports, knowing that somehow they’ll bring up Ben and Chelsea’s current run of form, something that you just can’t deal with. 

So you stay in the back of the garage, celebrate the podium in the back of the crowd and don’t wait up for Max to finish media duties, instead heading back to the hotel. It hurts to hide yourself away, you want to be the first to congratulate him on a win, or comfort him after a loss. But it’s for the best, you try convince yourself. You're just friends.

Max isn’t bitter about the decision at all. Being noticed at this race is a beacon to all fans that you are something to someone, and no matter how much he maybe wants that to be true, you’re just friends. Besides you have dinner with him and a few of the drivers and their own significant others, so really what more could he ask for?

After the season is over he’s back in Milton Keynes to finish up some things before heading out to start his holidays. Most of them will be spent with his family in Belgium or in Monaco, so he is determined to at least spend a day with you before leaving. He wasn’t planning on it being at a dog shelter.

><

“I think I want a dog,” you had told him while in Mexico. You’d spent a year alone in the flat (not counting Max practically moving in when he was needed at HQ) and things were too quiet for you. 

“Okay.” You were relaxing in his driver’s room before Free Practice 2. You’re both on the couch, him with an iPad going over some data and you with your feet up on his lap researching shelters on your phone. The domesticity of it all was frustrating.

“Are you allergic to dogs?” you ask. You know about Jimmy and Sassy back in Monaco, and he really doesn’t seem like dog person at all, but his opinion on this matters to you. His opinion on the most mundane and trivial things now matter to you. He doesn’t pay rent and so he doesn’t get the final say on anything, but if it makes life easier in Milton Keynes, you want to know what he thinks.

“No, I just prefer cats.” You nod, scrolling through the shelter’s website, looking at dogs and trying to decide which one looks like it needs love the most. “Lewis knows a lot about dogs, you can ask him about it.” It’s hard to get the sentence out, because Lewis having a say in something about your life just isn’t right. 

You shake your head no. “Lewis Hamilton doesn’t sleep in my spare bedroom.” It’s the same argument you make every time you suggest changing something in flat, and while it annoys him that you won’t take any money to pay for small stuff, it still makes him smile. 

“What do you think about this one?” you show him a picture of a Jack Russell Terrier, coincidentally named George. 

“If you get him you need to change his name.”

“Why?” You ask in fake offense. “I think he looks very much like a George.” But you move on anyway, terriers are too active for your lifestyle, you wouldn’t be able to give him the love he deserves. 

You keep on scrolling, feet still in his lap, him still looking through his iPad. You gasp suddenly, pushing yourself up and moving your legs so you can sit on them, much closer to Max. “Look!” you shove your screen in his face. “They just rescued a corgi with puppies! I love corgis!” He can see the excitement in your face and knows that he won’t ever say no to you if you look like that again. 

You pull your phone back, reading through the description quickly. “We are keeping Mama and puppies together for a few weeks to ensure health, puppies will be available for adoption in December. Please register interest.” You're pulling out your laptop to send an email when you're done.

Later that night, when you’re trying to sleep you admire how he let you rant about this dog that you’re getting. You love how he always indulges you on topics about your flat; you love that he’ll watch a shitty tv show with you and listen to you rant about the characters. You love that when you ask him questions about racing he answers with so much sincerity and interest that you can’t help but want to know more. You love so much about him that you think you might love him. 

No, you know you love him.

><

That’s how you got here, with Max at a shelter picking up a tiny corgi. Max has been carrying the collar and leash and necessary paperwork as you play with the small dog, contagious laughter falling from your lips.

“Think I should name him Charles, what do you think?” You look up from the ground, eyes so bright and happy. The smile on your face is teasing, but he misses the name because it hits him.

He’s in love with you.

He’s unable to answer you with his sudden realization, because the only words he can think of are “I love you” or long strings of curse words. 

You think he doesn’t like your joke and try to back track right away. “I’m kidding, obviously. I’m not gonna name him Charles.” Still Max only stares. “Is everything okay?” You stand up, still holding the puppy in your hands. “I promise I’m not going to name him Charles, but I’m sorry for the joke.” The puppy barks in your arms, snapping Max out of his trance. “What do you need, little one?” You ask the dog, momentarily forgetting Max’s presence. That’s what he needs, just a few seconds of you not looking at him to get his thoughts in line. He can’t be in love with you, because you don’t need a boyfriend. Just friends. 

Except he can be in love with you. Because you make him smile all the time, because you offered your spare bedroom to him so he didn’t have to deal with a shitty hotel mattress, because you send him pictures of cats you meet on the street, and let him over explain when you have questions about races. You deal with his mood swings when Jos contacts him. (It’s more than just dealing. You comfort and distract and do anything he needs.)

And maybe you do need just a friend still, but he can still love you.

It takes 20 minutes for you to finish up the paperwork for the shelter, which Max spends playing with the dog and he decides maybe he could be a your dog person. 

The ride back to your place is short, your minds replaying the same moment when you asked him what you should name the little puppy sleeping in the back. You feel bad, like you've insulted him; he’s trying to come up with a way to tell you what he’s realized.

Nothing happens that night, and nothing happens when he leaves for Monaco the next morning. 

Texts between the two of you comprise of pictures of Denny the corgi, Jimmy and Sassy the cats, and updates on how people liked their presents. It feels off, but you have no idea how to make it feel right.

On December 30th, you plan to catch your flight to Nice, but your father gets into an accident and you can’t leave your mom to deal with everything on your own. You say sorry to Max repeatedly, tell him to wish everyone there a Happy New Year and focus back on the quiet life with Denny. 

On December 31st, you wake up to the smell of coffee and toast. It’s alarming because no one else is here, so why does it smell like breakfast?

You push open the door cautiously, forgetting for a moment that Denny is there, so he sneaks out the tiny crack. “Denny! No!” you whisper-shout, hurrying after the little guy, all regard for your own safety lost. You find him in the arms of Max, licking his face and wiggling his butt with untamed excitement. “Max?”

“Hi, schatje.” His smile is almost enough to distract you from the fact that he is here. You approach the two slowly, grabbing Denny from his arms to put him down. 

“What are you doing here?” Denny paws at you, reminding you that he needs to go out and do his business. 

Max ignores your question, instead pushing a mug of coffee into your hands. “Take this, I’ll take Denny outside.” He grabs Denny from the floor again, making his way to the front where you have his leash hanging up. “Be right back, schatje.” You can only nod at him, watching the two walk out of the front door.

They’re back in two minutes, enough time for you to put out Denny’s breakfast and drink some of your coffee in peace, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that Max is here. The door opens and Denny comes rushing in, Max close behind. He hangs up the leash with his keys, then turns back to you with a smile.

Max takes his own mug, leaning his back against the counter to watch you. “Why are you here?” you ask again. 

“You said you couldn’t come to Monaco for New Year’s, so I thought I’d come here.” He says it so casually it irritates you. “Plus, I can take some work off of you or your mom when dealing with your Dad.”

Oh, he’s being sweet. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, but I want to help someone I love.” He says that so casually it catches you off guard. Thank god you didn’t have anything in your mouth or you would have definitely spit it out.

He smirks over his cup, watching you splutter for an answer to his simple confession. “You… you love me?” He nods then puts his mug down. A few steps over to you and he grabs the one in your hands, putting that down next to his own. With his other hand he moves to cup the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. You want to ask what he’s doing, try to stop this before it can even start, but Max is determined. (You’re grateful for that.)

There’s almost no space left between the two of you, just enough really for him to be able to look at your face while he asks if this is okay. A gulp, a breath, and a nod later he’s dipping his head down to yours, closing the distance, and kissing you. 

Your eyes close instantly. Your hands travel to their own accord, reaching up to lock around his neck and keep him close. Your ears ring for some odd reason and your nose can only smell coffee. You can taste red bull on his lips and you wonder how long he's been up.

The kiss is soft and slow and over before you really have a chance to appreciate it.

You open your eyes to see him, his lips spread in a wide smile that has you blushing. “Been waiting to do that for a while.” That has you blush even deeper, but he doesn’t let you dip your head to hide it. “Seriously, schatje. I love you.”

“I love you too.” It’s a whisper, but he doesn’t miss it with how close you are. But even if he had missed it, you’ll say it so many more times in the future that people get sick of it.

[thatonefandomchick]

the absurdity of it

matt sturniolo x reader

a/n: second time writing!

please reblog!

the absurdity of it was not that matt was buried balls deep into you, pounding hard, unrelentless thrusts into your pussy. it wasn’t even the fact that his brothers were in the bedroom next door, live streaming and playing god-knows what game at a ridiculous noise level. in this moment, he was happy to have the extra commotion, it covered up the sweet sounds of your moans and cries of pleasure as he gripped your hips and pulled you deeper onto his cock.

the absurdity of it wasn’t even that you kept moaning his name into his pillow, ignoring the hair plastered to your face because it felt so good.

“matty,” you cried out, and he almost came right then and there because he knows that you know what the nickname does to him.

“c’mon sweets, i need you to keep it down.” he managed to groan out with eyes clenched and fingers straining on your thighs as the girl in front of him let out another sigh of pleasure.

his cock twitched at the sound, and he decided then in that moment that there was nothing better than being so deep inside of you he could feel himself on your lower abdomen. there was nothing better than the little noise you made as your breath hitched and your hips stilled right before you came. he could lie and say he was close anyways, but only he would know that it was the way you clenched so hard around him he saw stars, and that it was the goddamn nickname you moaned out that made him bend over your body and slowly pump his come into your warmth.

the absurdity of it wasn’t even that he inhaled your lavender scent like it was a fucking drug. or that he could imagine it being the only thing he smelled for the rest of his life. his hips jerked at the sound of his brother’s booming laughter, and the movement caused you to let out yet another kitten moan. matt caressed his way up to the apex of your thighs where he replaced his cock with his ring and middle finger, relishing in the way your mouth opened and your face curled into one of pleasure.

“good girl.” he praised, grinning as he watched his come leak from your pussy, coating his fingers in the pale liquid.

he brought his middle finger to his lips and made sure you were looking at him dead in the eye, cheeks flushed, mouth parted and watching intently as his cheeky pink tongue licked a stripe from the bottom of his finger to the very top, swallowing. the very sight of it nearly caused you to come again, but instead you pulled yourself forward to meet him, not giving him a chance to pull away as you pressed your lips to his come-coated ones. his still wet fingers gripped your waist in an aching hold, and his tongue met yours with delight. his hair tickled your brows and you could feel his cock pressing against your thighs, searching for more, more, more. the sounds of your kisses filled the room, lips moving down his neck, his ears, his sternum, but before matt could do something crazy like take you from behind this time, he pressed a hand to your tits and pushed you to lay on your back. a sly smile reached your face and your tongue poked out to lick his saliva off your lips and if there wasn’t a prettier sight than this — well he didn’t know if there could be.

the absurdity of it wasn’t that this was the third time today that matt’s been inside you. after your shower that morning, and the quickie in the car after lunch, he thought you’d be satiated for the day. but how can he resist your pretty eyes or your plump lips when you tell you need him. he was supposed to be in the room with his brothers right now, doing his job and making his fans happy, but fuck them if it meant being able to plunge deep into your pussy, holding you tight as he made you come over and over again.

no, the absurdity of it was that you weren’t even his. you weren’t dating. you weren’t together. your body, your lips, and your pussy were his, but the rest of you wasn’t. and it cracked his heart a little more each time you pulled away when his brothers got too close. each time you pecked his cheek and pet his hair before you left his room with his come still in your cunt. each time you joked about being single, about not having a man to take care of you and fuck if it didn’t hurt him. because he was right there. he was there when you were growing up, offering his bed and blankets and snuggles when you had a bad dream. he was there when you needed a late-night study partner, showing up at your doorstep with two extra annoying helpers, a mcflurry, and your favorite lime chips. he was there when you graduated a year after him, cheering you on and catching the big bear hug you gave him as soon as you were able to. he was there kissing your tears away when your idiot of a boyfriend broke your heart into a million little pieces. he was there when you kissed him for the first time — you two were at a party, drunk and giggling in search of a bathroom to wash the drink stains off your clothes.

“here, i think this one is, oh—“

your mouth dropped open and your cheeks turned the prettiest pink as your eyes stayed locked onto the sight. vision a bit blurry from the alcohol, matt peeled his eyes from your face to peek into the bedroom that was definitely not a bathroom. the sure sound of skin slapping, high pitched moans, and cries of “oh fuck!” had the two of them entranced, watching as the girl rode cock like her life depended on it.

the couple didn’t even notice the door widening as you stumbled further in. peeling his eyes away from the way the girl’s tits bounced with the rhythm, he gripped your arm before you had the mind to strip down and join them. your eyes locked and he maneuvered you away from the door as gently as he could, shutting in with a soft click. it was a few seconds before you giggled, body shaking with the effort to keep from outright cackling. your eyes crinkled, your teeth shone and matt realized he was completely and utterly fucked because there was nothing he wanted to do more than kiss you right then. other than maybe bone you, but only because he just saw his first pair of boobs irl and he couldn’t control the way he got hard at the thought of it being you, pretty tits bouncing as your rode his dick.

he shivered away the thought and focused on bringing you away from the room and deeper into the hall. your skin was hot against his, but you followed him wordlessly, still trying to shake away the image of the pair. finally, matt opened a slim door, after knocking this time, and turned on the lights to reveal a cozy bathroom. you loosened a breath and turned to look at your best friend leaned against the door but your chest tightened for some reason, because the way he was looking at you, jaw tight and eyes hungrily staring at your cleavage that peeked out from the top of your tank had you feeling like the time you came to the thought of him.

you only considered the consequences a little, the alcohol clouding your mind, before you brought a delicate hand up to the neckline of your shirt, and pulled down, down, down. your eyes never left his face, studying the way he held his breath. the way his eyebrows scrunched together. the way his lips parted, tongue peeking out. the way his eyes followed your hand which moved the tank up and around the swell of your breasts, before finally hooking it under your tits. a painted finger trailed up the mound, teasingly circling the pink and perked nipple. your lip was caught in between your teeth, and you stared at your best friend under a line of thick lashes. the poor boy was nearly drooling. he was definitely not breathing now, and his fingers twitched by his side, as if he were struggling to hold himself back from reaching out and pressing his palms to them, rolling the bud in between his fingers as punishment for getting him so hard it hurt.

but it was you, who reached out and grabbed his fingers with your own and placed them over the goosebumped skin of your breast. it happened so quickly you didn’t even see his lips coming towards yours, pressing them so hard your teeth clashed. you both moaned into the kiss and well — matt can safely say that was the night he became addicted to the feeling of your lips between his, your tongue against his, your hands in his hair.

the absurdity of it was that that happened years ago. once or twice a year since then they make it a habit to get drunk enough that either will be willing to do it again, but not drunk enough to where they won’t remember it the next morning. but sometime around the time the boys started leaving more often and for a longer period of time did you get used to the seductive messages from matt, asking you to come over because he needed you pressed against him. it’s been months now that he’s found himself inside you multiple times a day, whether it be to fuck your brains out, or to keep his cock warm on the days he needed you a little more. whether his brothers knew was not his problem, what was his problem however, was the sinking feeling he got when he saw pictures of happy couples online. or when he saw a bouquet of purple flowers at the store he knew you would absolutely adore, but didn’t get because he knew you would get teased by nick and chris for weeks about it.

the absurdity of it was that you both knew the nights you spent together meant more than either cared to say out loud.

the absurdity of it was that matt didn’t even care that it broke his heart every time he fucked you because he would rather have that part of you than no part of you.

the absurdity of it was that you were both too scared to admit that you couldn’t really function properly when the other wasn’t around.

so you and matt will keep playing this game of yours. you will enjoy the parts that you get, and grieve the parts that you don’t, because anything is better than nothing, and the reality of that is fucking absurd.

[david-talks-sw]

Part 2.5 of the 4-part post series interweaving George Lucas' words in a curated meta post. Here are PART 1 and PART 2.

In George Lucas' words: The Fall and Return of Anakin Skywalker

- Does The Clone Wars count? -

When talking about why Anakin Skywalker falls to the Dark Side, it's easy for many fans to point to events that Anakin goes through in the series The Clone Wars.

However, while George Lucas himself stated he doesn't make a distinction between the series and the films, it's important to bear in mind why that series was created in the first place.

The Clone Wars connects Episode II and III. As a TV series, it gives more depth and understanding about how the Republic fell, and what a fantastic hero Anakin Skywalker was.

In-universe, this conflict is really the centerpiece of the downfall of the Jedi Order and the ultimate rise of the Empire, but in the films, we get so focused on Anakin turning into Darth Vader that it's easy to forget that he was one of the biggest heroes of the entire Clone War.

But as far as George is concerned, the Star Wars epic itself is basically this mythological uber story about one man: Anakin Skywalker. That is the saga shown in the six feature films, a narrow-focused story with a beginning, a middle and an end, the story of one man's struggle against evil and the redemption by his son.

So when you switch from Episode II to Episode III, you can imagine a little asterisk that says, “more about the Clone Wars in the animated series” but it's only an asterisk because those specific stories don’t have anything to do with Anakin Skywalker, really.

In the films, they're skipped over. You hear about it, but you only see the very beginning and the very end of the wars.

But whereas the features are Anakin Skywalker’s story, by contrast, The Clone Wars is basically a footnote in the saga (which is why George later decided to make it in an animated form, so it doesn’t get confused with the saga).

And just because those ideas don't have much to do with Anakin Skywalker's fall to the Dark Side, doesn't mean they're not worth sharing. Ignoring these tales would be sad because there’s so much stuff to explore.

After all, this was a turning point for the Republic. So the show's stories deal with individual clones, we get to know them. Same thing with Jedi, who in the films only zip through real fast, and never get explored on a personal level.

Mostly, in terms of character development, this time-period develops Anakin and Obi-Wan's relationship.

In Episode II, they are not really that friendly, don’t get along very well, they’re very standoffish with each other. So the idea was to see how they become best friends, in Episode III, how they become partners, how they become a team of equals.

And with the series, you see that it's because they’ve been sort of been through the Clone Wars together. So this really helps build that relationship, something which is also facilitated by the creation of a new character to take the role of the younger person who is being taught, in these TCW stories.

In order to make Anakin a little bit more mature, (seeing as in Episode II, he was kind of a wild child) George gives him somebody to teach: Ahsoka Tano, his new Padawan, a young woman who holds her own with him.

His reasoning is that, when you become a parent, when you become a teacher, you kind of have to become more responsible. It kind of forces you into this adulthood thing, it makes you more mature simply because you’ve, suddenly, got to be a good example for somebody younger than you are.

Thus explaining Anakin’s rise to being a fully-fledged Jedi, and why, in Episode III, his character is more settled down, and less petulant.

To conclude:

The Clone Wars is like a footnote to the live-action features. In this show, Anakin is simply a normal person, as well as a great Jedi Knight. In the movies, you never see Anakin as a normal person. He’s always struggling. Again, the films are about pivotal points in his life.

However, while throughout the Clone War, Anakin does has moments where he overcomes his attachments...

... and moments where he instead gives into his fear of losing them way too much...

... even being warned against doing so by other Jedi (it's not as if this flaw went unnoticed)...

... but also encouraged by Palpatine into continuing down this path...

... at the end of the day, what this comes down to is something that Dave Filoni explained when talking about the narrative constraints of writing episodes for The Clone Wars:

Though Anakin may briefly overcome flaws, he never solves any of those problems fully.

He'll start embarking on a path of understanding, but can never take the final full step to being this more enlightened person, because he keeps getting pulled back down.

Which is why when we're talking about events that caused Anakin's downfall, I'd say that The Clone Wars counts... but in only in terms that all these events do is cement the path Anakin has begun to undertake in Episode II, through his lack of discipline, emotional unruliness and attachment.

For better or for worse. Nothing more, but also nothing less.

That includes something like Ahsoka leaving the Jedi Order. George Lucas was originally just gonna have her brought back into the Jedi and be done with it, it's Dave Filoni who insisted on that taking place because it was unexplored territory, narratively-speaking.

But in the context of the bigger Star Wars saga about the fall of Anakin Skywalker, a character like Ahsoka is inconsequential.

Because while The Clone Wars gives George the chance to get out of dealing with the psychological underpinnings of why somebody gets to be evil (as he does in the films) and show that, “Anakin was a regular guy,” just like he was in Episode I... it doesn’t really have anything to do with Anakin’s story, about his fall to the dark side.

Sources:

Attack of the Clones, Director’s Commentary, 2002

Gizmodo/io9, 2008

ScreenSlam, 2008

Parade, 2008

Contra Costa Times, 2008

ComingSoon.Net, 2008

Sky Movies, 2008

Star Wars - The Clone Wars (movie) - World Premiere, 2008

The Art of Star Wars: The Clone Wars, 2009

SciFiNow, 2011

Dave Filoni, “The Slaves of Zyggeria” video commentary, 2012

Dave Filoni, “The Wrong Jedi” featurette, 2012

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Online Meeting 🖥 pt.3

Alexia Putellas x Reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

pt.1; pt.2

summary :

While running errands, you’re recognized in public as Alexia girlfriend by some sweet fans. However, things take a turn when a creepy man begins harassing you, making inappropriate comments. Feeling unsafe, you call Alexia for help.

It had been a few weeks since the paparazzi photos of you and Alexia kissing in the park were released. Life had changed more than you’d expected. While most fans were sweet and excited about the two of you being together, there was now a subtle shift in how people reacted when they saw you in public. Alexia had warned you that being recognized might become part of your life, but it didn’t really sink in until today.

You were running errands on your own—a quick trip to the grocery store in the middle of the afternoon. As you made your way down one of the aisles, searching for pasta, a group of young women spotted you. At first, you didn’t notice their lingering glances, but then one of them cautiously approached, a huge smile on her face.

“Hi! Sorry to bother you, but… aren’t you Alexia’s girlfriend?”

Surprised, you blinked before nodding slowly. “Yeah, that’s me.”

The girls’ excitement was immediate. “Oh my God, I knew it! Can we take a picture with you? We love Alexia so much, and we’ve been following all the news about you two.”

You smiled at their enthusiasm, feeling a little overwhelmed but touched by their kindness. “Of course,” you said, trying to sound as relaxed as possible.

After snapping a couple of selfies with them, they thanked you profusely and headed off, still buzzing with excitement. You breathed a sigh of relief, feeling like you’d managed the situation well enough. But as you turned to continue shopping, another voice called out from behind you.

“Hey! You’re Alexia’s girl, right?”

This time, it wasn’t a friendly tone. The voice was low, almost mocking. You glanced over your shoulder to see a man standing there, his posture too casual, his eyes scanning you in a way that made your skin crawl.

“Uh… yeah,” you said cautiously, keeping your distance.

“Damn, I didn’t think she’d be into someone like you,” he said with a sleazy grin. “You must be real lucky, huh?”

You tried to ignore him, your heart beating faster as you moved to the next aisle. But he followed, his voice growing louder and more invasive.

“Come on, don’t be shy. What’s she like, huh? Is she as good in bed as she is on the field?”

Your stomach twisted, a mix of fear and disgust rising inside you. The store wasn’t as crowded as you would’ve liked, and it seemed like no one else was noticing the man’s behavior. You quickly pulled out your phone, your hands trembling slightly as you dialed Alexia’s number.

She picked up on the second ring. “Cariño? Everything okay?”

“Alexia,” you whispered, trying to keep calm. “There’s a guy here… he’s following me, saying disgusting things. I—I’m at the grocery store near our place.”

You heard the sudden shift in Alexia’s voice, her tone going from casual to protective in an instant. “Stay right where you are. I’m coming, okay?”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you, feeling a bit more secure just hearing her voice. But the man wasn’t done. He stepped closer, now invading your personal space, and you could feel the panic rising in your chest.

“You ignoring me now? Come on, don’t be such a prude.”

Just as you were about to tell him to back off, Alexia arrived. She must have sprinted from the car, her face flushed with anger as she stormed into the aisle. Without hesitation, she stepped between you and the man, her eyes blazing with fury.

“Back off,” Alexia growled, her voice low and dangerous.

The man blinked, clearly surprised to see her in person. “Whoa, relax, I was just talking to her.”

“No, you were harassing her,” Alexia shot back, squaring her shoulders. “Leave. Now.”

He smirked, trying to act like the tough guy. “What, you think just ‘cause you’re some football star you can boss me around?”

Without missing a beat, Alexia took a step forward, getting in his face. “I don’t care who you are. You don’t talk to her like that. If you don’t walk away, I’ll make sure security does it for you.”

A crowd had started to gather, and someone had already pulled out their phone, recording the entire exchange. The man, now realizing he was outnumbered, took one last look at Alexia and then scoffed before backing away, muttering under his breath.

Alexia didn’t move until he was completely out of sight. Then, she turned to you, her expression immediately softening as she cupped your face gently.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her eyes scanning you for any sign of distress.

You nodded, still shaken but grateful. “I am now, thanks to you.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, kissing the top of your head as she held you close. “I’m sorry that happened. I’m so sorry.”

The crowd around you began murmuring, some people still filming, others whispering about what had just happened. You could hear a few of them praising Alexia for stepping in.

By the time you made it home, you thought that would be the end of it, but later that night, you received a message from one of your friends. Attached was a viral video clip of the incident in the grocery store. The video showed Alexia confronting the man, standing up for you without hesitation. The comments underneath were a mix of support and awe.

*Alexia is a queen. Look at her protecting her girl!*

*We love a protective girlfriend. She handled that perfectly.*

*Respect to Alexia for not letting that creep get away with it.*

The video was being shared everywhere. People were calling Alexia a hero, praising her for defending you in such a public way. While part of you was still unsettled by the whole ordeal, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride for how fiercely Alexia had protected you.

Sitting beside her on the couch, you glanced at the video, then up at her. She noticed you watching and smiled softly, pulling you into her arms again.

“No one messes with you,” she said quietly, her voice full of quiet determination.

You smiled, resting your head against her chest. “I know. And I love you for it.”

She kissed your forehead gently, her grip around you tightening as the world outside faded away, leaving only the comfort of her warmth and the knowledge that, no matter what, she’d always be there to protect you.

[oldsoul007]

who’s the cute boy with the white jacket

nicholas chavez x singer!reader

summary: y/n comes out with a hit new single and fans have their suspicions who it’s about…

I had always poured my heart into my music, but this time, it was different. I had written an interesting song that came straight from my soul, every note and lyric echoing my feelings for Nicholas. Who I had an interesting relationship with. The song quickly became a hit, and my fans couldn't help but speculate that it was about him.

Nicholas, being the observant and thoughtful friend he was, started noticing the buzz. One evening, after a long day of filming, he decided he couldn't ignore it any longer. He needed to know the truth. He called me and asked to meet me in at his apartment.

When I sat down, Nicholas didn't waste any time. "Y/n, I need to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me. The new song you wrote... everyone is saying it's about me. Is it true?"

I felt my heart race as I looked into his eyes. I had never intended for him to find out this way, but there was no turning back now. Taking a deep breath, I nodded. "Yes, Nicholas. The song is about you. Writing that song was my way of expressing what I couldn't say out loud."

Nicholas sat back, absorbing my words. He had always cared deeply for me, but hearing my confession made him realize just how much she meant to him. "Y/n. Now that I know, I can't pretend I don't feel the same way. I've always admired you, not just as a friend, but as someone truly special to me."

The weight of unspoken emotions lifted between them, and for the first time, me and Nicholas faced the possibility of a future together, our bond stronger than ever.

I stepped onto the stage, my heart pounding with anticipation. The lights dimmed, and the audience fell silent, waiting for the first notes of my new album. I was dressed in a stunning vintage outfit, complete with a classic 1950s silhouette that perfectly complemented the retro vibe of my music, with a twist of my personality.

As the first song began, my voice filled the room, rich and emotive. The crowd was instantly captivated, swaying and singing along to the nostalgic melodies. Each song seemed to transport them back in time, and it was clear that I had struck a chord with my audience.

In the middle of my set, Lauren glanced out into the crowd and spotted Nicholas. He was standing near the front, his eyes locked on me, completely mesmerized. His admiration was palpable, and it gave me an extra boost of confidence. I smiled, knowing he was there, supporting my every step of the way.

As the final notes of my last song faded, the audience erupted into applause. People were on their feet, cheering and shouting for more. Y/n took a deep bow, my heart swelling with gratitude and joy.

But the excitement didn't end there. Someone in the crowd recognized Nicholas and pointed him out. A wave of whispers and camera flashes followed, as fans realized that the charming actor was there, completely smitten with the star of the night.

Nicholas didn't shy away; instead, he beamed with pride, clapping and cheering louder than anyone else. The sight of him so obviously in awe of y/n added to the magic of the evening. It was a moment neither of them would forget—a night where y/n talent shone brightly, and Nicholas's love and admiration were on full display for everyone to see.

I decided to have Nicholas Chavez in my music video, me and Nicholas are portrayed as star-crossed lovers in a glamorous, retro setting. The video opens with me singing in an elegant, dimly lit jazz club, my eyes occasionally drifting to Nicholas, who sits at a table, watching me intently.

As the song progresses, the scenes shift to more intimate moments. We share a slow dance under twinkling lights, our bodies close and movements synchronized. The camera captures our stolen glances and subtle touches, creating a palpable tension.

In another scene, we’re in a vintage convertible, driving through a city at night. The wind tousles my hair as Nicholas steals a glance at me, his affection evident. We stop at a secluded spot, where me share a tender moment, leaning in as if to kiss, but pulling back just enough to leave the audience yearning for more.

The video culminates in a dramatic rooftop scene, where we finally give in to their emotions. Under the moonlight, we share a passionate kiss, sealing our connection. The final shot fades out with us holding each other, the city skyline behind us, leaving fans captivated by our undeniable chemistry.

After months of subtle hints and soft launches, the night had finally arrived. Me and Nicholas were about to debut our relationship at a high-profile red carpet event. The air was electric with anticipation as we stepped out of the limousine, the flash of cameras capturing every moment.

I took a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. Nicholas, sensing my unease, gently squeezed my hand. "We've got this," he whispered, his eyes locking onto mine with unwavering support.

As we walked down the red carpet, the crowd's reaction was immediate. Whispers and gasps filled the air as people recognized us together, looking every bit the perfect couple. My stunning dress and Nicholas's sharp suit complemented each other flawlessly, creating a picture-perfect moment.

Reporters eagerly called out our names, asking for comments and photos. Nicholas wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close. "We're here together," he said confidently, his voice steady. "And we couldn't be happier."

I smiled, my heart swelling with a mix of love and pride. I leaned into Nicholas, feeling the warmth of his embrace. The months of soft launches had led to this magical moment, and it was everything she had hoped for and more.

As they posed for photos, Nicholas's admiration for y/n was evident to everyone. His eyes never left her, filled with genuine affection and pride. The red carpet debut was not just a public declaration of their relationship but a testament to the deep connection they had built over time. Y/n, it was the beginning of a new chapter, one filled with love and endless possibilities.

[supansa4s]

When Friendship Becomes Love

genre : fluff

You always knew Lee Minho before the world did. Before the sold-out concerts, before the flashing cameras, before millions of fans screamed his name, he was just Minho, your best friend, the boy who always stole your fries and made you laugh until your stomach hurt.

It all started in high school. He was the talented dance prodigy with dreams too big for your small hometown, and you were the one who swore you’d always support him. When he left for Seoul to train, you stayed behind, keeping in touch through late-night calls and inside jokes that never got old.

Even after he debuted as Lee Know of Stray Kids, he never forgot you. He still texted you memes at odd hours, still called when he was stressed, still made time for you in his rare moments of freedom. But something had changed, not in him, not in you, but in the way your heart reacted whenever his name lit up your screen.

You ignored it for years. Convinced yourself it was just admiration, just pride for your best friend who had made it. Until one night, when he showed up at your doorstep unannounced.

"Minho? What are you doing here?" You blinked at him in disbelief, still in your pajamas, holding a half-eaten bag of chips.

He shrugged, hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets. "Had a few days off. Thought I’d spend them with my best friend."

Best friend. The words stung more than they should have.

The next few days felt like old times, movie marathons, late-night walks, and laughter filling every quiet moment. But there was something different in his gaze, a lingering touch when he passed you the popcorn, the way his fingers brushed yours and neither of you pulled away.

Then came the moment everything changed.

It was the last night of his visit, and Minho had insisted on taking you somewhere special. He blindfolded you in the car, ignoring your playful protests, and led you carefully down a path. When he finally removed the blindfold, you gasped. You were standing in the middle of a quiet park, fairy lights strung between trees, casting a golden glow over the picnic he had set up just for you.

"Minho... what is this?" You turned to him, eyes wide with disbelief.

He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly shy. "Just thought I'd do something nice before I go back. You always said you wanted a fancy picnic, right?"

Your heart clenched as you looked at the setup, plush blankets, your favorite snacks, even a small speaker playing soft music in the background. But what truly made your breath catch was the small box he pulled from his pocket.

"I got you something." He handed it to you, eyes flickering with uncertainty. "Open it."

You lifted the lid to reveal a delicate silver bracelet, a tiny charm in the shape of a cat dangling from it. It was simple but beautiful, and so unmistakably Minho.

"I saw it and thought of you" he admitted, voice quieter now. "So you'd have something from me, even when we're apart."

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes as you ran your fingers over the charm. You wanted to say something, to tease him, to tell him he was being too sentimental, but all you could do was stare at him, heart pounding.

Then, he spoke the words that changed everything.

"I think I’ve been in love with you for longer than I want to admit."

Your heart stopped. "Minho—"

"I don’t want to be just best friends anymore," he continued, voice steady despite the vulnerability in his eyes. "Not when I know it could be more."

And in that moment, with the stars above, the soft music playing, and his hand reaching for yours, you realized, maybe you'd been waiting for this all along.

Maybe Lee Minho wasn’t just your best friend.

Maybe he was your something more.

[blade-liger-4ever]

A Defense of Bayverse Optimus Prime

Note, I am not denying that Optimus was mishandled in the live action films. That said, the idea that he's a maniacal war criminal that runs rampant in the fandom circles is beyond absurd and, quite frankly, both ignorant and insulting to the degree of his integrity that was spared in Bayverse.

Willing ears may stay to be informed, but those who will not listen are encouraged to omit my post.

This misconception, from what I understand, begins with Optimus' portrayal in Revenge of the Fallen at three key moments. The first is his execution of Demolisher, followed by the forest battle before Megatron kills him, and wrapped up by the confrontation with the Fallen. All of these lean into Optimus' warrior side and, according to the fans, destroy his characterization.

No, it does not do such a thing.

When Optimus and Ironhide are interrogating Demolisher - first and foremost, Demolisher has a chance to speak here, as neither Optimus nor Ironhide just murder him outright. Thus, he is being treated fairly as a prisoner. Second of all, although Demolisher ends his speech by claiming that the Fallen is returning as a means of taunting and tormenting his captors, he is unrepentant of his actions. Lastly, Demolisher had just killed countless innocent humans. That is a war crime, and given that the Autobots are still in the middle of their Great War, Optimus killing him after all of the above is the equivalent of a just execution in wartime. There is nothing that condemns such an act, and to say that it's character assassination is shortsighted.

As for the battle in the forest, that's not ruthlessness. That's Optimus desperate to protect Sam and isolated from aid.

Go back and watch the fight. Optimus is the only means of protection that Sam has, and he was clearly holding back until he nearly got the sprockets knocked out of him. That made him realize that he had three or four enemies against him, and one vulnerable innocent life. In addition, hearing Megatron gloat of "just one life" was Optimus' wake up call that no, Megatron will not stop at one life. He has not before, and the brutality he just suffered, now alone with one helpless charge to defend, has reinforced that knowledge into Optimus. With all this realization, he now knows the only way to protect Sam is to go all out, and he does so not out of bloodlust, but out of a necessity to protect life. That is what Optimus always protects, no matter the cost to himself, as his (temporary) death proves.

When it comes to his fight with the Fallen, Optimus is not being bloodthirsty when he enters a vicious battle with him and easily dispatches Megatron and Starscream. It's more paternal protectiveness in order to save Earth from being destroyed by a Cybertronian who has destroyed a star sustaining life before. His "viciousness" in the battle is less eagerness for a fight and more reaching his limits to ensure another innocent world is not destroyed. Furthermore, his infamous "give me your face" quote does not, actually, refer to the Fallen's natural face. Search your memory or, better yet, watch that sequence: the Fallen clearly has a face intact underneath the mask he wore - in effect, a "face" of religious value that he desecrated/tarnished with his actions. Thus, when Optimus says "give me your face", he's actually saying, "give me the object you soiled with your evil".

To cite this as "proof" that Bayverse Optimus is a war criminal/nutcase is narrowminded, and ignores the obvious facts of why he took those actions.

The next part of this misinformed idea comes from Dark of the Moon, specifically the last battle and his executions of Megatron and Sentinel Prime.

Regarding Optimus' violence in the battle - for one, his oldest and best friend was murdered by his mentor. A being he trusted. To say he's righteously angry is a gross understatement - and also relatable. However, that anger does not mean Optimus kills indiscriminately. Throughout the fight, he both kills the Driller - which was a mindless animal/machine abomination and Shockwave's pet - and Shockwave himself, the chief dangers to humanity and his Autobots. The "you, die" was unnecessary, but when he takes control of Shockwave's arm cannon (a move repeated in Transformers One), it's simply to use its power in order to shut down the portal Sentinel has in use to drag Cybertron to Earth at humanity's expense. His brutality, while unsettling, is unfortunately necessary in this moment, as Optimus is the only one with the power to do anything about it at the time.

As for him killing Megatron, Megatron is a silver-tongued devil. Optimus knows this from personal experience, and since his best friend died as "a result" of his leniency with Megatron, Optimus knows two things:

Megatron is lying to get him to let his guard down, and will go right back to his old ways after killing/incapacitating him.

This is why Optimus kills Megatron, the violent manner being a means of ensuring that Megatron will stay dead and not shoot him or anyone else in the back.

And with Sentinel, it's much the same as the above and with Demolisher. Sentinel betrayed him and all of Cybertron, and by using the Rust Plague to kill Ironhide, broke the Geneva Conventions (in human terms) by using an abhorred substance to kill another.

This was a just execution, further emphasized when Optimus tosses the gun aside. He did not enjoy killing either Cybertronian, or the others. But he had a grim duty to perform, and once it's over, he can discard the means with which he performed the executions. Can discard the lengths to which he had to ensured the safety of life.

Now, we come to Age of Extinction, which is riddled with both good and bad for Optimus.

Tackling the first barn scene, Optimus is clearly waking up from having been on the run from the government. This is evident by the fact that, in his wild panic upon transforming, Optimus says, "Sam, run". Optimus is basically waking up from a previous escape, in an unknown place, and has just had a PTSD attack to boot. Him swinging his limbs and reaching for the gun is a defensive measure. This is further proved by the fact that, when he aims the gun at Cade and the others, it's not charged for a round. Heck, he even has to eject the old cartridge shortly before or after the action, if memory serves. Furthermore, he disabled TJ Miller's character by moving the gun to clothesline him. After he's calmed down and Cade explains what happened, Optimus thanks him and is about to hobble away to find "[my] Autobots". It's only Cade's insistence on healing him before he goes that stops Optimus from leaving right then and there, with no thought of warning or threatening them into keeping his presence a secret.

The barn fight is Optimus reacting with paternal fury as he realizes how Cade is willing to risk their lives for his safety. Additionally, Optimus never actually kills any of the humans. Many are sent flying, yes, and they're likely going to hurt for a week - but they are not killed. Optimus does not wish to kill, and it's shown here as he distracts Cemetery Wind and provides a means of escape for the others.

I cannot and will not defend what he says during the catch up period around the campfire with the others, nor can I, truly, defend his actions in the factory. That was Bay or whomever was responsible for writing the script and letting it slide. I can, however, say that despite Optimus "vowing" to kill the person responsible for the Autobots being slaughtered and melted down for parts (which, considering he and the others risked their lives or died for humanity, is a good cause for righteous anger), the fact that he did not kill anyone in the factory (and obviously made sure the others wouldn't kill them) is another point that he was not completely massacred as a character.

The scene where Optimus wants to leave Earth is a separate ball of wax, though it is actually beautiful because Optimus, despite all his principles, is so challenged and fatigued by loss that he almost gives up on the Earth. He is so close to that razor's edge, and him actually engaging with Cade about the decision shows that he knows it, and wants - legitimately wants - a reason to not abandon his morals or his principles. To not succumb to the fury he feels, to be the Prime he swore to be.

And Cade provides him with the answer. He gives him the hope he needs, and Optimus takes that hope with gratitude and renewed determination to not forsake the Earth and its inhabitants, despite the betrayal he has suffered.

Now, the battle with Lockdown and Optimus killing both him and Kelsey Grammar's character is also not character assassination. With the latter, he had a very brief reprieve in his fight with Lockdown, and the only thought on his mind was that Cade was in danger. He quickly assessed the scene and saw that Cade was sheltered from him by debris. Seeing that, knowing he had to incapacitate the man about to kill Cade, Optimus chose to quickly dive down and shoot the ground near him, thus sending Cemetery Wind's leader flying. He could not shoot him because it would go against his personal code and the blast would kill Cade. In fact, relying on the shockwave to dispatch the guy was probably all Optimus hoped for. Because when he does that, he knows the debris will protect Cade and possibly knock the other man unconscious. There was no definite possibility that the physical or head injury he sustained would kill him, and when Optimus gives Cade that smile, it's out of pure relief that he managed to save his friend. It is not an ax crazy look; it's the look of a man who narrowly saved his friend's life.

As for Lockdown, Optimus had been literally impaled against a wall and helpless as Lockdown went after Cade. He was scrabbling for a hold to get the sword out of him and to save Cade, his chance only coming when Bee returned to help out. The second the sword came out, he grabbed it and used it against Lockdown to kill him in order to save Cade's life. Bringing the sword upwards was the only surefire way to bring down Lockdown and keep Cade alive, and Optimus obviously only thought of saving a life even if it meant killing an opponent because, again, he took no enjoyment from either death. The only satisfaction he felt was that a life had been saved.

I won't defend The Last Knight, if only because it was such a hodgepodge of scenes that any with Optimus that made sense or kept true to him were lost in the scenes with him out of character.

But these are the facts: Optimus Prime in Bayverse is not a mad war criminal who kills for the sake of killing. He is a knight forced to battle and kill, to be at his peak physical prowess lest an innocent suffer.

And if you try to dissuade me from this thought process, watch this deleted scene from Rise of the Beasts.

This is a canon cut scene that turned Optimus into a "hunter of Decepticons" that willfully sought out a Decepticon to kill, brutalized him for no good reason in the battle, and point blank murdered him because he had destroyed a ship, thus doing so in a petulant rage. Keep in mind, Cybertron is supposed to be a dead world. There is no reason for him to want to go back home when doing so would result only in death for the Autobots.

And if that isn't enough, there's another scene that was said to have been cut where Optimus dropped the body in the Hudson, and we see DOZENS of Decepticon bodies that he hunted down and eliminated for no reason beyond rage and a psychopathic "need" to protect the others.

If you dare justify him hiding bodies from his own people, get out.

I don't want you here.

[literallythegrabber]

Yo , can you do the famous reader one but with characters ¿? Sorry if I was not clear :p

my bad, it's not ur fault I was being dumb. I'm also writing this at 3:00 am, after procrastinating for a week, so sorry for any typos in advance. enjoy!

Finney

Will probably keep his distance from u.

Will admire u from afar, kinda like how he was with Donna, just a bit more extreme since ur famous.

This boy will just stare at you from across the room. No shame whatsoever. Can't hold eye contact for shit tho, and easily flustered.

Since ur famous, I'd imagine you'd be like a child act or actress, so Finney would go to the movie theatre every Friday with Robin or Gwen to see ur movies.

(just remembered how Robin is 6 feet under rn, I'm imagining Finney carrying a pile of bones in a bucket labeled "Robin" to the movies, LMAO, anyways...)

Since he's short on cash (I headcanon he's broke af, I mean he's 13) he'll hideout in the bathroom once ur movies over, then wait for the next audience to come and watch it, then sneak into that booth so he can watch it again. Like, mf u could just go home? But he's committed to u.

When yall got together, the whole school was SHOOK, the people were pondering over yall for days.

You'd have to reassure him a lot. He gets insecure a lot by ur status and what people say.

But Robin will beat the haters up!😁

Robin

will def beat up all ur haters, whether yall are dating or not.

He'll try to act non-chalant and tough around you when he's literally freaking out the moment u walk into the room.

Imagine him just locking eyes with u while he's beating up some kid, just holding eye contact mid punch cause he thinks it makes him look cool.

And ur just like "😐".

Like I said with Finney, he'll go to the movie theatre EVERYDAY to watch ur movies instead of studying.

He just ignores doing it cause homework's for losers.

Like aren't u failing math?

U get scary dog privileges once yall start dating. He's always staring people down when they look at you for too long, he's super protective.

Yall would def be a power couple.

Bruce

He fangirls over u.

Thats it, that's all I have to say.

He ain't a stalker, but is 100% ur biggest fan.

Will flirt with u, get u small gifts, and invite u to his baseball games.

Will definitely serenade u with a guitar in the middle of the hallway, then laugh when u get embarrassed.

He brags to his friends about u all the time.

Nobody's surprised when yall start dating.

The popular boy and the movie star, it was a match made in heaven.

Like with Robin, yall would be a power couple.

Vance

He's literally ur biggest hater, polar opposite of Bruce.

He doesn't really hate u, he's just trying to deny his feelings for u by becoming ur mortal enemy.

He's trying to convince himself he doesn't like you, even tho he thinks about u (and pinball) all day.

Teases u, calls u names, goes out of his way to ruin ur day, he's honestly a menace.

"Vance! Did you see y/n's new movie? It's so cool!" "She looks like a seahorse be fr." "😟"

Vance is just insecure, with his dirty reputation, it's hard for him to believe someone like you would want someone like him.

He's unsure of how to process his emotions correctly, so he just bottles them up. Then imagine yall get into an argument, then all his pent-up feelings come pouring out in an aggressive confession, then yall get together.

The world was SHOOK, again.

Nobody could connect the dots, the goofy "bad boy" dating the movie star? Nobody predicted it.

He keeps his affection under the radar, wouldn't want to ruin his reputation.

He claims ur turning him into a "softie", but he's totally whipped for u.

Scary dog privileges, too.

[matan4il]

I saw your post about Noah and it just but a bee in my bonnet about how people in all sorts of fandoms have been doing similar things to Jewish actors (but it’s not as well known cause they’re obviously not as high profile as stranger things). I follow you from the 911 fandom, and I also watch 911 Lone Star and both Ronen Rubinstein (who plays TK) and Lisa Edelstein (who guest starred so isn’t a regular anymore but is iconic in her own right) have gotten hate. Ronen removed his twitter after people started calling him a Zionist and harassing him. Lisa turned comments off on some of her ig posts and specifically said it was so she wouldn’t get attacked. The only things those two have said are in regards to getting the hostages home safe or in reaction to the immediate events of Oct 7. Yet they’re being called supporters of genocide. The antisemitism disguised as “antizionism” is so fucking obvious and it’s sad how it’s infiltrated even the smaller fandoms if actors involved dare to be Jewish and express concern for fellow Jews.

Hi Nonnie!

First of all, yes. Sadly, there is not a single fandom I have been active in, that has been a safe space for Jews in general, and they've all become worse since Oct 7. So I'll talk a bit about the 911 fandom, but let's be clear that this fandom isn't the issue, it really is a symptom of a much bigger problem, which is very prevalent in online spaces, not just online fandoms. What I'll talk about is obviously not true for every single person, but it IS true for enough people, and especially for some very vocal ones, who shape what the "allowed" discourse is.

I have not been following what the 911 fandom does and says about Ronen Rubinstein for at least 2 years, but I can't say I'm surprised by what you told me.

I've written more than once about the fact that Jews are not white, not even the white passing ones. Also, I'm hardly the only Jew raising their voice about this, and yet I've noticed that the 911 fandom, which raged when half-white Eddie Diaz was not recognized as a POC by one fan, the fandom which has accepted Christopher Diaz as a POC (even though he's canonically only 25% Mexican, and is played by an actor who actually IS white, which means there's no arguing over the fact that Chris looks white), is also the fandom which has repeatedly conceptualized Ronen as a white guy, same for his character TK (even though he's canonically only half white), and with that view in mind there's been hostility towards Ronen that I've come across not long after 911LS just started. Ronen's family is from an area where Jews had been repeatedly slaughtered, including during the Holocaust for NOT being white less than one hundred years ago. TK looks white (you know, exactly like Chris), so that's enough to ignore Jewish identity, history, being native to the Middle East, and anti-Jewish persecution. Ronen gets conceptualized as a white oppressor. And as such, he's a fair target, even an encouraged one.

Gavin, whose character Chris is recognized as a POC, even though he himself is completely white.

Ronen, whose character TK is not recognized as a POC, even though the actor is fully Jewish.

Natacha, whose character Marjan is recognized as a POC, even though the actress herself is half white. She's also half Lebanese, Marjan is fully so, and whatever Arabs are, Jews are the exact same, because both groups are native to South West Asia (similarly, both groups come in a variety of skin tones).

So I'm not surprised that Ronen is being mistreated. Jews are mis-conceptualized as white, and the Israeli-Arab conflict gets mis-conceptualized by applying to it a race-based model imported from the US, in which Israelis are white Jews (even though 21% of our population is Arab, a part of our leadership is Arab and has been since the first Knesset was elected, over 70 years ago, and even though many of the Israeli soldiers fighting to protect us are Arabs... when the conflict is explained, they're all erased, and Israelis are only understood as - and blamed as - white Jews), who are evil oppressors of brown Arabs (even though some Arabs are just as white looking, or even whiter than some Jews). Then, this conflict is used to vilify and justify harassing Jewish actors, whether Noah in Stranger Things, Timothee Chalamet, or Ronen and Lisa.

Here are some white looking Palestinians, who always get ignored by the people conceptualizing the conflict as white vs brown people:

Two pics of Israeli soldiers killed, each pic from just one day in this war in Gaza, and you can see the diversity of skin tones...

Like I said, I haven't been following Ronen, but I did happen across a post that claimed he needs to be canceled for the crime of blocking people who the poster said were pro-Palestine. But in my experience, even when you're a Jew who is not being hateful towards Palestinians, you're just pro both groups, because you recognize they're both humans, the fact that you have the "audacity" to stand up for Jewish people and Jewish rights, and against the mis-representation of Jews in Israel, is enough for antisemitic bullies to use that to come after you with antisemitic abuse under the guise of being pro-Palestinian (here's just one example. I wonder how many Palestinians have been liberated by harassing Jews online. Pretty sure the answer is zero. I also always love how this crowd never actually stands up for Palestinians when they're wronged by fellow Arabs, in Kuwait, Egypt, Jordan, Lebanon or Syria. It's only the Jews who bother these "pro-Palestinians," not the actual well being of Palestinians). I'm sure that if we could see who Ronen was blocking, it would be the same kind of people who have been sending me these very caring, human rights-oriented messages:

^ This ask was specifically a response to my reply to an anon telling me I lost my claim to humanity when I became an Israeli (and me answering that that was at the age of 5 months, and that my parents' decision to bring me to Israel actually saved my life).

^ Just a small collection, nowhere near what I actually got, but I kept them 'coz I wanted to show people at some point what Jews who dare to not want Israel destroyed are subjected to. And Ronen probably got similar ones, he blocked them, and for saying he was blocking them, he got further hate... At what point are people going to wake up and see that this is how an antisemitic misinformation campaign works? Lots of Germans genuinely believed in the narrative that Jews backstabbed them during WWI. If you were to ask them in the 1930's whether they hate Jews simply for being Jews, they'd say no, that they hated Jews, because Jews deserved to be hated due to their actions. In the exact same way, now support of the existence of the Jewish state, not even of its specific policies, is being spun as justification to hate on Jews.

I'll say this again. This reply isn't about Ronen. It isn't about Noah. It isn't about Lisa. This isn't about a specific fandom. This is a call for people to wake up and smell the antisemitic coffee, the legitimization of Jews being harassed. Please don't be a part of it, and if you can, please speak up when you see others being a part of it. I KNOW that online, and def on Tumblr, the majority of posts you see justify the vilifaction of anyone who is pro Israel's existence, even while also being critical of its leadership. And it's easy, and it feels right, to go with what everyone else in your echo chamber says. But you can be that one guy in 1930's Germany who didn't do the heil Hitler. If you will be, it may not be easy, but I very much doubt you'd ever regret it.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[ldrloversblog]

In defence of Vivziepop and the women of HB

I’ve been seeing a lot of people criticising and bashing Vivienne for the way she writes her female characters compared to her male characters and to an extent fans and the antis are correct and their criticism is valid but it’s reached to a point that the fans and the antis are being more misogynistic than the person the claim to be a misogynist (Viv).

They are always blabbering about how she can’t write a woman who isn’t mean, evil, emotional and has no depth or a sad backstory. I believe that most of the times people forget that Viv is not the sole writer of the show, yes she is the creator but she is not the only one in the writing room she is not the only one who has control over the story and the characters there is whole team involved.

“But all her female characters are mean without reason”. Wrong there are reasons why they are the way they are.

Verosika is the way she is because of Blitz. In AT we learned that when she finally mustered up the courage to confess her love for the person that was her boyfriend and presumed bodyguard at the time (since she is a pop star) left her in the middle of the night without an explanation and stole her credit card which he maxed out on horse riding lessons. Ver isn’t a bad person just because, she is that way cause of heartbreak, hurt and betrayal. She even had his name tattooed on her arm that’s how committed she was.

Barbie Wire, a child with an abusive father turned to addiction and alcohol and we know that she still keeps on using because of a freak accident that killed her mother, burned the circus, left her and Blitz’s best friend disabled for life and scars than can never be healed.

Loona an abandoned child that grew up in the orphanage and every time she got adopted she got turned back due to her temper and problematic teenage behaviour. Of course someone who was never wanted as a child and treated nicely isn’t gonna be all sunshine and rainbows. Despite all that Loona has come a huge way from being the always mad, defensive and socially awkward hellhound we met in ep.1.

Octavia, one of the most if not mischaracterised and wrongly hated character of the show. The first time Octavia is shown to us she is a child that has a terrible nightmare where she can’t find her father anywhere. From that alone we can understand that Octavia is someone who’s afraid of being abandoned by the only person that she can find comfort in. Her parents constantly scream at each other and most of the time ignore her (whether it’s intentional or are too wrapped up in their own problems and goals) and never try to communicate with her properly or explain the whole situation. She is not a spoiled little princess who’s always broody and “emo” and annoying just to be, she is 17 a very vulnerable age at which she needs the two people that are supposed to take care of her in the world the most but she doesn’t and she feels that she never had them cause she never mattered, the only thing that mattered were their petty fights and duties. Via is allowed to feel hurt by her parents actions and lack of care and is right to confront them for their shitty behaviour towards her her whole life. She needs time to process what’s going on and come to terms with her own emotions and situation. If she doesn’t want to hear what Stolas has to say right now then that’s the right thing for her to do now. The love and trust she has for him is so strained and it’s gonna be a while before he can make up for his mistakes.

Stella is another character that the fans and antis complain that is evil (or cartoonishly evil which is boring as they’ve said after the last episode) because Viv has always to make her women unlikeable and stupid. Stella and Stolas were forced into the same fate without their consent at the age of 10 and have been miserable ever since. I like Stella I’m not gonna lie she is not the best written villain and we don’t know why she is the way she is but what we know is that she really hates and resents her husband and doesn’t really care for her child unless it’s to manipulate her against her father. Cartoonishly evil or not, she is entertainingly stupidly evil for someone driven by her hate and big ego, a narcissist that’s always right and above everyone else but what she doesn’t understand is that her brother is holding the strings and plays her like a puppet so he can do his own bidding in the disguise of getting rid of her husband. Sometimes villains don’t need to have a heart wrenching backstory, someone or something that made them evil some people are just evil either by them themselves or their environment. There are 2 more seasons left of HB im sure that the writers sooner or later will give us a good explanation as to why Stella hates Stolas so much and wants him out the way.

Millie a Wrathian who thought that she was good for nothing but killing people and being “the muscle”. Millie (as seen in GF) worked by herself taking jobs to survive and make a living until she met I.M.P and became a part of a team, a family that taught her that she is more that just a machine to kill people and is now the best version of her self. Married, happy with her career choices and I can’t wait to see how s3 will handle the unplanned pregnancy plot because there are a lot of things on stake here.

Why do we as fandom always have to demonise women for the smallest things and baby men for the horrible and wrong things they do and have done to others? Why don’t you give the same energy to Paimon, Cash and Crimson? Neglectful and abusive fathers? Striker? Who preaches about how royals are the worst thing to happen to imp kind but the moment he is paid by a royal to betray one of his own he’s quick to take it and run? Blitz? Who until recently never apologised for the bad things he did and ruined so many people’s life’s? Stolas? Neglects his own child in favour of his lover and stuck in his own foolish fantasies in the process losing whatever little faith Octavia had in him, obliviousness to see past his nose and his (not purposefully) prejudices?

[harryssyndrome]

From The Set 🎬 (pt.1)

Pairing: Timothée Chalamet x Reader

Faceclaim: Selena Gomez

A/N: for this social media au story, the movie release year has changed. Instead of 2020, it’s 2018. All the other mentioned events took place after it.

liked by yourmumsusername, tchalamet, florencepugh, taylorswift and 675,486,271 others

yourname so excited for y’all to finally see it! We had a lot of fun making it! 🗽

Tagged tchalamet

View all 693,283 comments

ynismybae finally!! 😮‍💨 I’ve been waiting for this for so long.

yourmumsusername so proud of you my babygirl 💜

tchalamet the fun begins with you

⤷ let’s meet in the middle. We look like fun when we’re together🤭

taylorswift so proud of you y/n/n! thx btw tchalamet do you know why my bestie is smiling sm looking at her phone screen?🤭

florencepugh letssss goooo 💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻

chalametism this scene!!!💋💋

username omg Tay Tay commented 🥹

⤷ the supportive besties. My favvvv

username shipping their friendship 🫶🏻

liked by pauline.chalamet, yourname, florencepugh and 921,754,286 others

tchalamet A Rainy Day in New York is out in cinemas <3

View all 304,769 comments

chalametism the emphasis on this scene 🤭

chalamet_world am I the only one thinking they are flirting?

(liked by 63 others)

pauline.chalamet you were so good yourname 👏🏻

⤷ don’t you think you’re forgetting someone? pauline.chalamet

yourname thank you so much 🫶🏻

(liked by pauline.chalamet, tchalamet)

pauline.chalamet uhhh I don’t think so 🧐

⤷ seriously? Oh let me do the honors and remind you, the male protagonist?

⤷ idk what you’re talking about. I didn’t notice anyone else. 👀 reserved for yourname

⤷ I hate you pauline💔 tho I can agree on one thing - my eyes are too reserved for yourname 👀👀

(liked by yourname)

yourname 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 pauline.chalamet

florencepugh MY GURLLLL! 💗

username timmy IS flirting indeed🫣

username the Chalamet siblings. 😂

liked by taylorswift, tchalamet, pauline.chalamet, gigihadid, zendaya, jbalvin and 573,592,626 others

yourname “I can’t get enough” is now streaming on all the music platforms!!! ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ thx jbalvin , tainy and itsbennyblanco for having me on board🫶🏻

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tchalamet I can’t get enough of your love 💗

chalametism here we go again with the flirting!

Timhalchal I ship them already 😍

chaalamets me too but they aren’t dating are they?😩

taylorswift it’s on repeat-peat-peat-peat!🥰

Zendaya LOVE IT 😍

⤷ love you girls sm🤍 zendaya 🫶🏻 taylorswift

tchalamet what about me?🥺

yourname love you 3000 pauline.chalamet 💗

(liked by pauline.chalamet)

pauline.chalamet ilyt 😘 p.s. please reply to my baby brother because I can’t tolerate his cranky face😒 loved it when u ignored him tho. #donttellhim 🤫

tchalamet I hate you both.

⤷ you love us Timothée Chalamet stop being a baby🙄

ynandtimmy please date each other already 🙏🏻

Username I live for this interactions lol

Username was he really making cranky face?

Username idk bro 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

liked by 4,683,855 other

E!new Fans are heartbroken as heartthrob actor Timothée Chalamet has found himself a match. We wonder who the unknown girl is?

The fans are speculating that this unknown lover could be singer/ songwriter and actress y/n y/l/n. The co-stars are being found flirting and having playful interaction in the comments of their recent post.

Tagged tchalamet, yourname

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Username damn right, i was broke but now im also heartbroken 😭

Username i think it’s them

Chalametism the “YNTimmy” era begins😌

Username they are so cute together

Username what if they are just friends?

Username3 Alexa play “That should Be Me” by JB 🥺

⤷ but it’s not confirmed.

⤷ either way he’s not mine so… yeah *sobbing* 🥲

liked by username, username and other 2,683 others

ynexpress_ YN VIA INSTAGRAM STORY!! - “Throwback”

do you think yourname is hinting something 🤔

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ynsbaby i think she will be performing her new single!

chalametism could Timmy come to Coachella to support her?

Username did she invite him?

Username this could be pr 🙄

⤷ TREAT PEOPLE WITH KINDNESS OR ELSE!

⤷ Will kill y’all haters with kindness

Username the haters gonna hate, hate, hate😩

⤷ Y/N just shake it off queen!!!😌

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halchalamet only the true fans will support them no matter what 🤍

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Location: Coachella

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chalametism MY MAN IS SPOTTED!!! 🚨 oh boy he looks so good 🥰

Tagged tchalamet

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littletimmyytim I can’t believe I am standing in the same floor as him. So stoked!!!!

Username how does he look up close

⤷ even more beautiful ☀️

timidicted omg he’s swaying to the beats

Username his cap says “just friends?” 😱😱😱

⤷ NO WAAAAYYYYYY🤯

⤷ He’s playing with us!!! Wear your clown noses people 😤

(liked by 43 others)

⤷ I thought that I was Taylor Swift fan thing.

⤷ He’s teasing something from the article?

liked by ynandtimmy, chalametism, ynsbaby, username, username, timotheeandall and 7,502 others

cantgetenoughofyn YN ON THE STAGE!!! Ahhhh! We clowned right now Let’s Taki Taki!!!💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻

Tagged yourname, tchalamet

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chalametism Timmy was hyping since the moment she surprised the fans on stage!! 😳

ynandtimmy some people around him reported that he shouted “THATS MY GIRL!” as yourname joined on stage!!!!!🥰🤯

username “just friends” my foot. I won’t be fooled again.

⤷ and he is wearing “Just Friends?” Cap!

Username just say the word that they are dating 🥺

timmyytim he’s here to support her!! He’s going to be an amazing boyfriend 🤭

Username so can I finally ship them???

Username3 Alexa play ‘Jealousy, Jealousy’ by Olivia Rodrigo

⤷ you again?

⤷ yeah, with a diff song 🫥

liked by ynexpress_, timmylaurie, chalametism, ynandtimmy, florencepugh, yourchildhoodfriend and 6,088 others

e!news So is it safe to say It’s confirmed? ‘The King’ star is spotted kissing singer & actress y/n y/l/n at Coachella after her performance. Link in bio for more.

Tagged tchalamet, yourname

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chalametism I KNEW IT!!!!

Username how can you know it’s them? The face is blur

⤷ SON JUST DON’T *captain America voice*😤

yourchildhoodfriend is this how I am supposed to get to know my childhood bffs love story 🤷🏻‍♀️ yourname girl is this how you keep your friendship?😂

⤷ not yourchildhoodfriend commenting like a fan. She didn’t even knew 😂😂😂

ynexpress_ the IT couple 😘

ynandtimmy they are so cute!! I just saw a fan taken video of yourname running towards Timmy and when he saw her in view, he welcomed her in his embrace. He was smiling like a idiot 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

Username okayyyy I don’t need to ask anyone of you. I SHIP THEM 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Username3 Alexa play ‘jealousy, jealousy’ by Olivia Rodrigo

⤷ you here again?

⤷ yeah with the same song besides no one has blocked me yet 😩

taytayynn I think she knew it all too well!!

Username so happy for them🤍

Username did you guys notice that florencepugh liked this post 🤯🤯

Username now what would they do??? Reveal themselves?

⤷ Idk maybe it’s a love story baby just say “yes” would be nice 😊

A/N: thank you for reading this au!! I hope you guys enjoyed. It’s been a long long time since I posted one of these but I’m super happy with it!

It’s going to be a multi-part social media au so stay tuned for the upcoming parts!

Likes and reblog are appreciated 💗

Tag-list and requests for open 💌