#that neither of them are likely to bring up

[just-your-average-cryptid]

real talk, we gotta start mandating better civics education because so many people seem to have no idea how the government or any part of it works

presidents don't have a switch that says "prices: up or down"

instead they have a bunch of different levers controlled either by Congress or the Federal Reserve (often called the Fed in reporting) that they can try to get flipped by one of those entities

Congress is pretty straightforward, they pass spending bills and budgets that determine how much money goes where. Mandatory spending covers stuff like Social Security, Medicare, and anything required by law - it's the stuff that has to be spent. Discretionary spending is what changes year to year; it's the budgets for parts of the government, like the military, and the main thing that gets argued over when these bills are on the floor.

What Congress can do:

Raise or lower taxes (through legislation)

Cut or increase spending for programs (through legislation)

Borrow money to fund the government (through legislation)

"The Fed" is the one focused on prices, and unemployment. They're part of the banking system and control the flow of money. Contractionary policy is meant to bring down inflation by tightening the flow of money. Expansionary policy is meant to spur the economy by loosening the flow of money, in the case of a recession.

What the Fed can do:

Change the federal funds rate (affects borrowing costs by changing the interest rate of loans)

Set reserve requirements (the percent of deposits banks have to hold on to)

Buy and sell bonds (affects money in circulation)

notice that none of these are a simple "prices: up or down" lever; they can have that effect, and usually aim to, but they're a lot more complicated than "prices: up or down." notice also that none of these are directly controlled by the president, though they can push for these levers to be used.

tl;dr: Congress controls government spending, the Fed controls the movement and amount of money, the president controls neither. Both of the former can take actions to cool down or heat up the economy, but none of them can just make prices go down.

Many such cases.

[demilypyro]

Characters I want Surge to interact with, just to see what would happen:

Shadow (trauma bonding? or maybe they just fight. or maybe he doesn't think she's worth his time, which she would be mad about)

Knuckles (I don't think he's even heard about her yet? What if they meet randomly and they actually get along because neither of them bring up their connection to Sonic at all. They're both very straightforward people, maybe they'd be on the same wavelength?)

Amy, again (she VOUCHED for you and it was all a trick? you're gonna get it)

Cream (we know Surge has a fondness for kids)

Sonic, but like, they're stranded on an island together (what are these two like when they're not fighting?)

[hellsslibrary]

Can I request what rin, sae and hiori would do on the reader's birthday (you know nsfw stuff ♡)

Happy Birthday to Me or How I Lost the Ability to Walk Even Though I'm a Top (This is a quote from some manga I can't remember the name of but it fits here).

MASTERLIST is here.

#a.n. : I have absolutely nothing to say but if anyone is reading this on their birthday then happy birthday to you sweeties!!

!!Warnings: male!top!reader, bottom!characters, they're all sub but Sae is a little bit of a dom (I'm just a sucker for the "pathetic" top trope or something, you don't get it), Hiori's scenario is very funny and weird, very. In Sae's mentions clothes (you know), in Hiori's mentions video games (yeah), Rin is nothing special, he's the most normal one in this scenario I swear. Otherwise just praise, a little teasing and a very enthusiastic reader here.

Hiori Yo

"Is this...? What is this, Yo?" you ask in incomprehension, staring at his computer screen, trying to figure out what you actually see here.

Well, more precisely, you understood what you were seeing, but you clearly didn't understand why he was showing it.

"This is us, in Sims 4... Having sex. What is unclear?" he answers by tilting his head to the side with a slight blush coloring his cheeks, looking first at the screen and then at you.

"So my gift is watching porn with us, or rather with toy models of us?" you laugh when two people who look like you change their positions in a game that looks very good... unrealistic, but who really cares.

"No," Hiori shakes his head slowly, removing the headphones around his neck and placing them on the table, then poking you in the chest. "They can do it on any surface and in any position... If you like a certain pose, then we'll try it in reality."

You just blink like an owl, not understanding anything at all, but taking the mouse from him and poking it on the countertop, choosing random poses from the list, watching how sim of Hiori literally bends in different poses, which looks pretty hot, even if stupid.

It takes about fifteen minutes while you're pointing at various pieces of furniture and looking at all sorts of poses from different angles, sometimes you both giggle at some strange animations until one catches your eye.

"It," comes out of your mouth, and Hiori stares at the screen, watching his sim sit on the table while the life is practically being fucked out of him, judging by the pace of the thrusting.

"Really? Dear, it's a little..." the word doesn't come out of his mouth when he bites his lip in embarrassment, but after hesitating for a couple of seconds, he gets up from his chair, taking off his sweatpants along with his underwear and sitting on the edge of the table. "I'm already prepared, so you can just slide inside."

You immediately smile like a child who has received the most coveted sweet, and you almost frantically undo your belt, which is not particularly possible because of the trembling in your fingers. So you just unbutton your fly and take out your dick.

"Really? Can I do it raw?" Hiori hums in response to this question, and then shrugs his shoulder vaguely, spreading his legs as an answer, and squeaks when you squeeze his hips right there.

Hiori's back arches when he feels your cock sliding in at a much more gentle pace than your sims, who continue to fuck behind Hiori's back. His fingers grip the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white as his feet lightly scratch the table.

"Wrap your legs around me, please?"

Yo silently obeys, grabbing your shoulders instead, absolutely spoiling the pose, but neither of you really care anymore. After all, today is your day, and if that's what you want, then Hiyori wants to obey.

He moans softly into your neck as his legs lock over your tailbone and an intermittent whimper escapes his lips when your cock finally touches the right spot inside him. A point that makes him see the stars and the moon, which only you can bring.

The blue-eyed man feels his cock twitching against his stomach, and his orgasm is approaching embarrassingly fast, he just wants to cum. Why is it so fast? Who knows... But obviously not from the disgusting sounds of the game in the background.

"Cum for me, come on," you whisper, sliding your lips over his neck, making him tilt his head back in bliss.

Your teeth outline his adam's apple, causing his breathing to stop and his nails to dig into you this time. He bubbles something unintelligible when he feels your hand on his cock, rubbing its current tip, making him cum almost at the same second, which makes you slow down the thrusts slightly, making them deeper to prolong his pleasure for a couple of seconds.

"... More, go on," Hiori mutters after a dozen seconds, licking his dry lips and lifting his half-closed eyes at you and exhaling. "I'm all yours today, so keep going... I'll tell you when I'm at the very edge."

Sae Itoshi

"Are you going to stare at me with that expression for a long time? At least close your mouth," Sae says, looking at your surprised face in the doorway while you stare at him for about a minute, still trying to figure out what's sitting in front of you.

"That's... you... wow..." something inarticulate weakly escapes from your lips until you finally leave the doorway, closing the door and approaching Itoshi.

Of course, nothing too surprising was sitting on the bed. It was just Sae. In your usual T-shirt. In regular shorts. With a normal expression on his face. With damn attractive thigh-high stockings that accentuated his thick and muscular legs too well. Yes, you know, the usual Tuesday of any person.

"Do you like it that much?" Sae asks when a slight smirk blooms on his lips, watching you sit down in front of him, spreading and sliding his legs as you please.

"Yes, it suits you damn well, it's simple gorgeous... Strangle me with them," you whisper, squeezing his hips and exhaling contentedly, feeling the elastic muscles under your fingers.

Sae's fingers lift your chin and he gives you a light peck on the forehead before kissing you on the lips. His kiss is slow, almost savoring, as he weaves your tongues together, tugging at your shirt to get you up.

You lower Sae to the bed, continuing to kiss him, and then pulling away, lowering your lips lower, kissing and occasionally sucking on the delicate skin of his neck, causing a soft sigh to escape his lips before he stopped you at the edge of the T-shirt.

"Too fast. Don't go any further than the neck... Today is your day, but you have to earn it," the Japanese man whispers against your lips and then you feel his fingers slide into your pants while his other hand unbuttons your fly and releases your cock.

Your breath catches when you feel his fingers wrap around your heated flesh, and your face immediately finds itself in the curve of his shoulder, causing him to briefly pat you on the head.

"I'll give you what you want anyway. Just wait."

You bite your lip to keep from whimpering when Sae's thumb runs over your slit, and images of what he might let you do to him when the time comes are already spinning in your head.

Your hands are clutching the sheets on either side of his face, and his lips are lazily sliding over your neck, sucking on your skin, forcing you to push into his hand, which he freely allows.

"Sae... I will cum now, please," you exhale and feel only the nod of his head at your side as he speeds up his hand movements a little, making you come embarrassingly quickly with a groan.

Sae kisses you on the temple, removing his hand after a couple of seconds, when the buzz finally subsides and gently pushes you to your side, sitting up straight and taking napkins from the table, wiping his hand and your penis from the sperm.

"Good boy. Take a break and let's continue... There's a lot more under my clothes," Sae whispers, turning away to the trash can and deliberately bending over too much, exposing a thin strip of panties under his shorts, which makes your soft cock twitch in anticipation of the next round.

Rin Itoshi

"Is that really all you want? You can ask for more, you know," Rin whispers, leaning over you, shaking his head slightly and taking your condom-wrapped cock in his palm, stroking it a couple of times.

"Yes! Definitely, that's it. Please? I just want you to do this," you whisper, making Rin sigh, but nod and lower himself onto your cock slowly.

He exhales sharply as he takes you completely and places his hands next to your head, considering that he's almost lying on top of you and looking up at you with his turquoise eyes.

You just smile and kiss him on the cheek, which makes him frown slightly but blush, and he begins to gently move his hips. Of course, it's not very convenient in this position, but he promised.

"You're wonderful from this angle, otherworldly, Rinnie," Rin just tightening around you from the compliment, leaning in even lower and gagging you with a kiss, but hey, you're not complaining.

You put your hands on his cheeks, knowing full well that he's going to scold you, because he wants to take at least one round without your support, so you're not taking any chances.

Your tongues slide against each other, and then he pulls away with heavy breathing, resting his forehead on yours, maintaining his slow rhythm, looking down at where you connect.

"You're very deep, I want more," he whispers breathlessly, closing his eyes and focusing on his movements, trying not to rush too much, but to make it pleasant for both of you and not cum faster than you, not this time.

"Then take more, I don't mind," you close your eyes too, feeling his eyelashes lightly brush your forehead as his face slides forward a little and you squeeze his biceps, absolutely enjoying him.

"I love you. Happy birthday again," Rin says, forcing you to open your eyes and you are met with a surprisingly soft smile, albeit almost imperceptible on his face but fuck.... "...Did you just cum?"

"Uh..." You laugh shyly, grabbing Rin's hips to stop his movements, when they get a little painful from your sensitivity. "I love you too."

"The gods... Fuck me already, you're pathetic when I ride you," the younger Itoshi mutters, although there's no real mockery in his words, he just sighs when you flip you over, switching places and wrapping his legs around your waist.

[rat6ix]

So what?

Nam-gyu x reader

Summary: you are horrible for each other but neither of you are gonna do anything about it.

Warnings: smut, toxic!nam-gyu AND reader, neither of them are good people dont be like them, degrading from both parties, switch!nam-gyu and reader, biting, doesn’t take place in squid game, talk of drugs; no description of either doing them but yall high as shit, reader and nam-gyu love each other in some kind of fucked up way…i think, reader is highkey a freak and not in a good way, choking but not the sexy kind reader is tryna kill him, but then again he finds it hot so maybe it is sexy..?, no aftercare.

Porn with no plot 😇

—

Wc: 1.1k

— 🐀

At this point you’re not sure nam-gyu remembers why you were fighting, the drugs in your system combined with the feeling of his cock shoved inside of you making both of your brains fuzzy, you could tell he was getting antsy —impatient even. You hadn’t moved since his cock had slipped inside of you, he didnt deserve it, Not until he apologized. His hands away from any part of you, you made it very clear you would have no problem kicking him out of your apartment , it wouldn’t be the first time he was on your doorstep begging for you to let him in.

You heard him whine from under you, obviously trying to keep himself from squirming. You could feel his cock twitch every time you shifted a certain way, you wanted to roll your eyes at how pathetic he was. His eyebrows were scrunched together, his eyes squeezed shut trying not to fall apart but you knew he would sooner than later.

“Don’t be like that, stop being a cunt nam-gyu look at me.” You teased.

Bringing your hand up to his jaw. You chuckled as he glared at you, his hands twitching by his sides. You know how much he wanted to flip you over and fuck your brains out but you also knew he wouldn’t cause his ego means too much to him.

“Fuck you.” Nam-gyu growled, his jaw clenched his eyes still glaring. You stared down at him blankly before you started laughing, you’d might as well have tears in your eyes at this point.

“You’d love that wouldn’t you.” you joked.

You rolled your hips, a smile still on your face as nam-gyu let out a strangled noise. You moved your upper body closer to his, your hand leaving his jaw finally. Leaning to whisper in his ear.

“Say you’re sorry and I’ll fuck you.”

He made a noise of defiance, jerking his head away from your’s. You leaned back up and frowned, reaching down and gripping his hair. He winced at the feeling, your grip tight as you pulled his face towards yours.

“Don’t do that nam-gyu, you owe me an apology for what you did.” You insisted.

When He didn’t answer your grip on his hair got tighter until he broke.

“Fuck—fine! Im sorry.” He pleaded tears gathering in his eyes from the pain.

“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.” You chuckled.

You knew he didn’t and you were right, the look on his face gave him away. It was the face he always made when he was about to lie himself out of trouble. You knew him far too well for far too long for that to work on you. He didn’t know but you didn’t mind reminding him, your hands moving to his chest.

“Remember when you left me high off my ass on the bathroom floor of club pentagon tonight because you had “better things to do than babysit someone who cant handle their drugs”, hm?” You tilted your head as you spoke.

You were tempted to get off his dick kick him out right now just because he didn’t remember, luckily a nice girl stayed with you until you were sober enough to walk and he’s lucky you’re somewhat sober now or else you’re sure you’d be throwing his shit out of your bedroom window; you probably still will if he pisses you off again.

“You’re still mad about that?” Nam-gyu laughed.

His laughter didnt last long as you brought your hands to his throat and fucking squeezed. His eyes widened as you smiled down at him, his fingers trying to pry your hands off of him.

“C’mon say sorry.” You chuckled, doing your best to keep your hands where they were.

“Fuck— im— sor—sorry.” He tried his best to wheeze out.

Satisfied with his shitty apology you release your grip on his neck leaving him sputtering for breath and coughing. You looked down at him with disinterest, your fingers drawing shapes into his stomach. It took him a little bit to get back to normal, his eyes still wide looking at you. He opened his mouth to talk but you cut him off before he even began.

“I could feel your dick twitching the entire time i dont wanna hear anything you fucking slut.” You rolled your eyes.

You barely had time to register him flipping the both of you over, his hands on your wrists keeping you still. His face was unreadable but you could tell he was fucking pissed. It didn’t take long for him to start fucking his cock in you at a brutal pace, his ringed fingers moving to to dig into your thighs, You were definitely going to have bruises on them in the morning.

Your fingers digging into his shoulders kept you grounded, your jaw dropped a bit has he fucked you into your mattress. He was breathing heavy above you, his head hung with hair framing his face. You could hear him curse under his breath a few times before raising his head back up and flipping his hair back to where it wouldn’t obscure his vision.

“Looking a little tired nam-gyu—“ you laughed.

You were cut off by a particularly rough thrust, jolting you backward. You could nam-gyu had enough if your bullshit but that only made you smile harder as he got angrier.

“Stupid fucking bitch, always running your mouth.” Nam-gyu retorted, gripping your jaw.

It hurt to keep smiling, his fingers digging into your face, but you didn’t care. Your mouth open now as you drool all over his hand. He looks at you disgusted before letting go to wiping the drool all over your face. You laughed as best as you could with his cock still being shoved into you at an alarming pace. Your breathing was as labored as nam-gyus at this point, you could tell he was as close to cumming as you were.

Your hands went to the hair on his neck, he probably wasnt even feeling anything but you wrapped around his cock as you tugged at it. His eyes were trained on where your bodies met, occasionally looking up at your face. His hips were stuttering now, the way you were squeezing his cock not making it any easier. For the first time that night he leaned down and caught your lips in a bruising kiss, you decided to take pity on him and return it. After the kiss was broken you took advantage of the position you were in, digging your teeth into his shoulder smiling up at him when he pushed you back with a glare.

It wasnt long after that you both came, nam-gyu pulling out to cum on your stomach. The room was still, the only sound being both of your loud breathing. He rolled off of you a minute later, taking his place on your other side. You stared up at the ceiling for a while before getting up and making your way to the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” Nam-gyu asked out of breath.

“Shower.”

—

Belongs to rat6ix

[marithlizard]

That's the problem though, isn't it? Most activists and protesters _don't_ want to commit crime, they want to call attention to injustice and work to get it fixed. Undercover agents like this are given the job of turning peaceful people into "criminals" so that they can be arrested. And while I'm sure "hur hur, let's actually go blow things up and loot shops" works sometimes, it's not going to convince you or most other people to turn to the dark side. The reason for the song is to remind you that it's usually _not_ so obvious. Maybe you get into the fed's car because he's always volunteered to drive for the last six months and you assume you're going to stop by a place he knows to get donuts. Maybe you've been having conversations in that car for six months and a lot of them have been about whether vigilantism can be ethical. Today the car pulls into a gun shop instead of a donut shop, and now you're under arrest and they have a recording snippet of you saying "look, I understand the desire to do violence against bad people BUT". They don't play the "but" part when they take you to court. How do you protect against that? You have a silly little mnemonic song to remind you that the guy who always brings up the _idea_ of criming, and who always volunteers to drive, is suspicious. The other big problem is that even the most peaceful activities - even your very existence - can be defined as a crime. Giving water to a dehydrated person can be a crime. Saying "trans rights are human rights" or "genocide is bad" can be a crime. If the Black Panthers, who by all accounts were intelligent and well-organized and focused on obviously good things like giving free lunch to schoolchildren, could be redefined in the public eye as dangerous violent criminals who it was okay to shoot in their sleep, I think it's safe to say neither you nor I can be confident in our ability to "just not commit crimes".

Reading rahaeli's bsky feed is an education in itself. I did not realize it was so common for undercover agents to join even harmless social activism groups and try to encourage people to do things they could be arrested for. The song has about a dozen verses, all of them based on incidents that resulted in felony charges o.O

The whole thread is very worth reading, especially since the incoming administration has been been very clear that they want to criminalize being trans or supporting trans rights. (Among other things.)

[my-castles-crumbling]

leave - January 22 - black brothers - @black-brothers-microfic - cw: canon compliant angst - word count: 402

“So you’re going to leave, then?”

Sirius didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. He would know that voice anywhere. It was the voice of the brother he’d sung to sleep when he was young. The brother he’d played Exploding Snap with and argued with every day during their childhood, because they were each other’s only friends. The brother he’d cried with when Mother yelled too loud and the brother he screamed at when he took too long in the bathroom. The brother who stayed infuriatingly quiet, even when speaking up was the right thing to do. The brother who sat at the Slytherin table, while he sat at the Gryffindor table.

The brother who he’d been slowly growing apart from for years.

“Yes, Reg,” Sirius whispered, adding another jumper to his trunk. “I am.”

There was something sour to the air. Something neither of them wanted to acknowledge but they both knew deep down. Sirius’s chest ached, but he refused to allow any more tears to fall. Too many had stained his bruised cheeks already that day.

He spoke the words, but he knew the answer before he even offered. “You can come with me.” Even as he heard himself say it out loud, he knew it sounded ingenuine. Part of him so desperately wanted to take Regulus with him. But he wanted to take the Regulus who cried at nightmares and asked for kisses on scraped knees. He wanted to save the Regulus who got upset at injustices like stolen turns and unshared cookies and banned books. He wanted to bring his Regulus with him.

But he also stood there, shaking, knowing that the Regulus who answered his offer was not his.

“No. I can’t.” Regulus’s voice was thin and hollow as he spoke, and Sirius felt his own heart crack in two as he processed the words. His little brother, the boy he would have done anything to protect, really was gone.

Sirius turned, meeting the silvery-gray eyes that could have been his reflection in a mirror. “Will you tell on me, then? Stop me from going?” he challenged, closing his trunk and collecting his things. 

Regulus paused, tilting his head, as if considering it. But after a moment, he sighed. “Goodbye, Sirius,” he murmured, not answering the question. “I…wish you well.”

And with that, he walked to his room, gently closing the door behind him.

[russellbee]

I MIGHT SAY SOMETHING STUPID (MV1)

max verstappen x driver!reader (team & gender are ambiguous) summary. you've never been good at talking to people. you can never form the right words, hold eye contact, or in worst cases, think before you speak. so truthfully, you're not really surprised when you end up confusing max with your spontaneous confession. unbeknownst to both of you, lando brings you back together. (writing, texts, + a bit of smau) (3.3k) warnings. for self-hate & mentions of hate comments, mentions of anxiety(!!!), everyone is confused and oblivious (except lando!), george and max rivalry is very present, mentions of alcohol & intoxication, use of y/n, reader has parents (and is close-ish with them), sorry if your name is spencer (the name is used for a friend), george doesn't have a gf(!!!), mentions of sex (but it’s really nothing), and cursing. andi's note!! inspired by my beautiful adhd brain 😍😍 (and my max obsession, ofc!) the title is from 'i might say something stupid' by charli xcx but the song doesn't have anything to do with the fic!

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You've seen multiple media outlets say that your mouth is disconnected from your brain with the amount of (accidental) out of pocket things you've said. Your first post-race interview in F1 ended with you severely embarrassed because you tried to make a joke but the way you worded it made it sound rude. You had backtracked as soon as you realized how it came off (honestly, it took too long) but you still had the comments you'd seen online stuck in your head.

Every season in F1 you get increasingly more nervous to talk in interviews or to the other drivers; the comments and articles gnawing at your self esteem. But with Max it's always been different. He can laugh off an unintentional brash remark or just raise an eyebrow and in a snap you'll realize what went wrong. So, because of how easy it is to talk to Max you've become close.

You're in Abu Dhabi, the season's ended and George Russell is getting on your nerves. He's in your sight, talking to Lando and Alex; laughing. You don't dislike George, he's always been nice to you but your love for Max trumps your like for George. Love?

You're just a little tipsy. It's fine.

As long as George doesn't go near you maybe you won't open your mouth. It's always hard to stop talking the second you get alcohol in your system; not a single word is filtered, it all just comes out.

Someone is staring at you, it better not be George because he knows what you'd do for—

"Are you alright?" Max sits down next to you, gin & tonic in hand. He's so— warm. His thigh is pressed against yours, and you can feel the warmth of his body through his jeans. (It's not really warm enough for shorts but you couldn't remember the weather from last year, so you're stuck in a pair of shorts you brought to Qatar.)

"Huh?" What he said comes back to you and you stammer, "Oh, sorry. I'm fine just thinking. I guess."

"Thinking?"

"Yeah, y'know." You really are thinking; thinking about how good his cologne smells and wondering if it clings to him night and day. Does he always smell this great? How have you never noticed this?

"What are you thinking— Do you ever feel like, really obsessed with someone? Like you see them and you want them. Bad." You cut through his question with your own (stupid) question. Neither of you are looking at each other. You're too focused on not looking at him, actually. Why do you always do this? Did you never learn how to talk to people?

You're so busy panicking that you don't notice your eyes are still on George, and Max has noticed; his lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Had he been reading things wrong?

You're waiting at your gate when you get the text. You feel your phone buzz against your thigh and you hope, and hope that it's Max. You're terrified to message him first, worried he heard the meaning of your question and didn't want to acknowledge it. He hadn't said anything last night. Maybe he's finally sick of you. Can't even let him speak, or think before you talk with a single drop of alcohol in your body. You squeeze your eyes tight and will your brain to stop talking. Then, after a deep breath you open Whatsapp and see it's from Alex.

alex albon

did you tell max to apologise to george?

You blink. What? Never in your life would you think Max would apologize to George. You wouldn't tell him to either. What had gotten into him? Who would be able to change his mind like that?

alex albon

y/nnn

you have read receipts on ik you saw this

You sigh, trying to slow down your brain so you can make your thoughts coherent for Alex.

you

sorry i was thinking

didn't tell him to do that

idk why he would, it's not like him

alex albon

alright thanks 👍

i think we're all confused rn haha

Your boarding group is called and you feel a little bit of annoyance bubble in you. This is gonna be stuck in your mind for the entire flight.

the best rookies

lando

i think y/n likes george

or that's what max thinks at least

alex

and how did you come to this conclusion?

george

That makes no sense

Y/n and I don't talk that often

lando

i saw them together b4 y/n left

they were staring at us

prob george tho

considering everything

george

Many people stare at us, Lando

lando

you don't getttt it

max looked like

mad but confused?? he was very focused on you

and y/n looked like they wanted the earth to swallow them

v embarrassed yknow

alex

y/n probably just said smth wrong

can't really see them liking george

george

If anything, Y/n likes Max

lando

max doesn't care when they do that tho

ik y/n likes max thats like super obvious

ugh u guys dont get it at all 😒

You had practiced your speech for the awards, had repeated it over and over in your head. P3 in the championship, a first for you. Then you made a fool of yourself, stumbled over your words. People had laughed a bit, but in the back of your mind you acknowledge it had nothing to do with the jokes you attempted. At least you didn't have to take any more photos.

Lando finds you as you're about to leave, wiping the tears off of your cheeks and steadying your breathing. "You weren't that bad you know?" Lando teases and you let out a breathy laugh. "Fuck off." He laughs and you both start to leave the venue.

You make meaningless small talk. Lando is going to ski with friends and you'll be visiting a childhood friend, Spencer, in London. You're both anticipating a better season. The valets go to retrieve your cars, and you're both left standing on the sidewalk. It's a little humid, but not enough to make you want to blast the AC.

"Did you see George's post on Insta?" Lando asks after the silence has settled. Your face scrunches up, "Sorry?" You would've been fine to stay quiet until one of your cars arrived and you'd say goodbye. Lando had other plans, apparently.

"His post saying goodbye to Lewis. The last picture was nice, wasn't it?" You feel like there's something Lando's searching for but you can't put the pieces together. "I don't follow George on Insta. I— It's not like I don't like him, it's just. We're not really close?" Lando raises a brow, and it's not like when Max does it. It's something else, and you don't understand. You want to ask why, what he's thinking, but the valet parks your car in front of the sidewalk before you can.

Lando moves forward when the valet gets out, holding the driver's side door open for you. What is going on? You look at Lando, questions floating in your head and then hesitantly get into your car. "Have a nice off-season." Lando's grin is triumphant. Not like when he's at the top of a podium, something different and unfamiliar, yet kind.

"Yeah, thanks." Maybe you just don't know him well enough.

Lando double checks everything. He looks through his and George's mutuals and looks through the likes on George's end-of-season posts. He's never been more determined to prove Alex and George wrong. (And getting you and Max together, of course!)

Oscar looks at him weird 'cause he's grinning at his phone, then teases him, asks him if he's got a girlfriend. Lando laughs it off, because how is he supposed to say that he's investigating into some grid drama? That he's trying to understand what happened after Abu Dhabi, with you and Max? George has been ruled out as a player in this game, none of you are that close.

In London, you facetime your parents. They show you everything in their little villa that you rented out for them, the sandy beaches and the bright ocean. They tell you that they miss you and you repeat the sentiment. A part of you misses Max more, and you try to push that down.

Spencer orders pizza, and you both relax on the couch as you wait for it to arrive. They make a noise, a bit contemplative but unsurprised, and you look up from your own phone. Spencer's looking at you with a wolfish grin. "Oh, no."

"Have you seen this?" Their voice is teasing as they hand you their phone. It's opened to a post on the F1 Instagram account, the caption reads: Celebrating Max's 4th WDC with pictures of the best friendship on the grid 🏆. You gape slightly at the first picture; it's of you and Max in Zandvoort '23 on the podium. You both have bright smiles, your focus is on drenching Max with your champagne. He's laughing, accepting the spray. You don't bother to look at the rest, a sick feeling building in your stomach that you've begun to associate with Max. You know what it means, but you can't acknowledge it now. You haven't talked in over 2 weeks.

The pizza arrives and Spencer makes you pay. You can't get yourself to eat a lot, too stuck in your mind to acknowledge your hunger. When you lay in bed later that night, you feel sick. You know it's not the food, you know what it is. In the back of your mind you wonder if you'll ever be able to accept your feelings or if you'll just have to get over it.

lando norris has made a groupchat

monaco dinner 😁😁 (alex albon, george russell, max 🏆, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, oscar piastri, you)

lando norris

alright everyone. need to know when you're all returning to monaco

"You're up to something," Oscar says from beside Lando. Lando raises a brow, a teasing grin on his lips. "Whatever do you mean, Osc?" His teammate rolls his eyes before scanning the table, landing at the empty seat next to George. Everyone is here, except you. Lando pretended he got a text from you saying that you'd be late, when in reality that's not the case. He told you the reservation was for twenty minutes later than he told everyone else. His plan needed to work and he didn't want you arriving earlier than intended.

"Y/n, someone who is always scared of coming late they come fifteen minutes early, isn't here. I'm assuming you have nothing to do with this?" Lando's grin grows wider. "Mate."

"Just wait."

You arrive at the restaurant 5 minutes early, since you had to walk and that led you to being noticed by some fans. When you go up to reception and say who you'll be sitting with, the host raises a brow before directing you to a table in the far back of the restaurant. Everyone is already there, drinks on the table. Worried, you look at your watch to see it isn't even the time Lando sent. You're early.

The only seat open is at the end of the table, to the right of George. It's also right across from Max. He looks surprised to see you, putting away his phone as you sit down. George says hi and asks you how your break has been so far. You make pleasant, friendly conversation with him. When Charles asks you a question you turn your attention to him, and notice that Max's mood has visibly soured. He must notice you looking, because he inserts himself into Alex and Carlos' conversation. You bite your cheek, trying not to seem annoyed or disappointed. You still haven't talked, and it's been seven weeks. He's liked your posts; the one from your trip to London, a set of gym photos your team took, and your photos from your other trip. No comments, just likes.

He doesn't talk to you for the rest of the dinner, instead he watches you make conversation with your other drivers. You stumble over your words, make mistakes and try to laugh it off. It's nice to talk to them, it just requires more energy. With Max, you don't have to worry about your never-ending rambling or your stories that tend to not make sense. It's easy. You miss it.

Dinner ends, you all split the check and go your separate ways. After getting your card back you head to the bathroom, just standing in silence for a few seconds. You need a break, especially if you run into some fans on your way home. The more you talk and force your brain to try, the more exhausted you get. The easier it is to snap or say something completely wrong. No one deserves to be on the receiving end of that.

You scrub your hands over your face, trying to wake yourself up. In your pocket your phone buzzes once. Then twice.

max 🏆

Are you still here?

I didn't see you leave.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, and you make yourself type slowly. Your hands are shaking. You need to get a grip.

you

yeah, haven't left yet

you're still here then?

max 🏆

Yep. Meet you at the entrance?

you

sure

As you leave the bathroom your brain has fired up again, what the fuck, repeating in your head consistently. Because, what the fuck? Why has Max all of a sudden decided to talk to you? What changed his mind?

He's standing in the waiting area, his plain white t-shirt covered by a jacket you recognize from the Alphatauri website. The corner of your lip twitches, as you fight back a smile. He's so predictable.

"Hey." His voice is quiet, like he was scared that you were lying. Like you'd hide in the bathroom till he left. Even though you're mad at him, you can't see yourself doing that, ever.

"Hi. Um, nice break so far? We haven't talked a lot," You let out an awkward laugh, cringing internally. Why did you bring that up? And in the first sentence too?

"I'm sorry about that, I've been busy," Max's smile is weak and your heart deflates a bit because you know when he's lying. He doesn't do it often, so it's easy to tell. "I meant to text you, really." But that isn't a lie. Huh. You stare at him for a second trying to make sense of what's going on.

"Did you drive here?"

"No, didn't have time to get gas. I mean— I did, I just forgot because I've been doing other stuff." Max smiles and everything feels almost normal again. The seven weeks of silence still looms over the conversation, like it's preparing to end your friendship forever. "I'll drive you. You didn't move, right?" He has a smile on his face, the one when he's trying to be funny. You feel that sick feeling building, and your skin warms.

"No, I should though. Apparently my neighbor almost set the complex on fire, and the one across from me she— she did something weird, I can't remember. But I know it caused a meeting for the building about some policy and everyone was really mad at her," You ramble, voice picking up as you get that giddy feeling, when you know you're really being listened to. Max leads you to his car and you get into the passenger seat. On the drive to your building, you finally remember the reason why your neighbor got in trouble.

"She got in trouble because she had sex on her balcony or something, and then someone saw and reported it. Holy shit, I can't believe I forgot that!" You laugh, face scrunching with your smile.

"Your neighbor?"

"Yes!" It feels really good to talk to Max again, to feel a true connection when you talk to him.

lando norris

hey mate

how's y/n?

max

Good?

Do you not have her number?

lando norris

no haha sorry

thought you guys were dating

things seemed off just wanted to make sure

max

Right.

We're fine

lando norris

but not dating? (max has reacted with 👍)

Everything has been good with Max. It's like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders now that you can talk to him again. You flew with him to Bahrain and now Australia. Media day is tomorrow, and Lando has texted you asking if you want to go explore, like neither of you have ever been to Melbourne. You say yes, anyway.

You're in the elevator going down to the lobby, when it stops at another floor. George is standing on the other side of the doors, and he smiles at you as he walks in. "Hanging out with Max?" He asks as the doors slide shut.

"No, Lando invited me out. He said he wanted to explore, which I don't really understand because he's been to Melbourne multiple times. Also, Oscar's his teammate so, I don't—," You stop yourself. "It'll probably be fun though, it's Lando."

"Lando invited you out?"

"Uh— Yeah? Why?"

"He invited me out as well, that's all." Oh.

Is he trying to set you and George up? The thought hits you like a truck and your nose scrunches up involuntarily. First, the questions about his Instagram and then making you sit next to him at dinner. You feel warm, anger building inside you. Is Lando oblivious?

↳ user since when are they friends????

↳ user you left out the part that lando was with them 💀

You and George walk back together, an awkward silence hanging over you. It was a fun day. You took pictures, ate good food. You had fun. It was just awkward because it seemed both you and George knew what Lando was trying to do.

You're waiting for the elevator when George turns toward you. You shift your eyes toward him, trying to make sense about what he's about to do. "Do you like me?"

Your eyes widen and for a moment all you can do is stare at George. "No, I— I don't know where Lando got the idea that I like you, but I don't." You're trying to be nice in case George does actually like you, but he lets out a breath of relief.

"I'm really sorry, Lando is..."

"He's Lando, I know." The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. You both walk in and George hits the button for your floors. "You do like Max though, right?" Once again you find yourself speechless. George laughs, cheeks turning red.

"Sorry, it's— It's really obvious, I don't know how Lando missed it." You're burning with embarrassment when you look away from George and mutter, "It's not that obvious." He cracks up, and you feel yourself growing warmer.

Thankfully for you, George gets off soon enough and it's just you. When you step off the elevator, you notice someone leaning against the wall by your door, scrolling on their phone. They look up when you come to a stop. It's Max, in another plain t-shirt and skinny jeans. You may hate the skinny jeans but they really show off his thighs, so it's not that bad. "Hi."

Max walks over to you, stopping so there's only a few inches between you. You can smell his cologne, see how blue his eyes are, and how his hair is a little out of place. He opens his mouth to speak but you speak before he can. "You look good, I mean—," You cut yourself off to prevent the inevitable ramble about how good he looks; your friends have heard it numerous times. Max blinks, the beginning of a smile on his face before he leans in and kisses you.

You make a little noise in surprise before you reciprocate, you reach for him blindly, grabbing onto his shoulder. It's easy kissing Max. You've been waiting for this, the soft press of his lips against yours, the heat of his hand against your face. The same sick feeling rests in your stomach, and you feel it; the way your heart speeds up when he's near and the hot flush that builds on your skin when he touches you. You never want it to end.

yourusername close friends story

[caption: @.maxverstappen1 🤍]

view replies

lando OMG DID IT FINALLY HAPPEN??

yourusername yes...? lando oh thank god my plan worked i was so close to locking you two in a closet yourusername HUH????

[ooooo-mcyt]

I will never stop thinking about the dynamic between Scott and Jimmy in Third Life.

People love to act like one of them (usually scott) was toxic, but imo the (more interesting) reality is that they just wanted very different things.

Jimmy, undoubtedly, cared about Scott and their life together. But Jimmy- despite his reputation for being pathetic/naive/whatever other inaccurate exaggeration- is a very bold, ambitious, and prideful person. Jimmy wanted to make a reputation, a profit, a statement- you name it, Jimmy wanted it. Jimmy burned with the desire to be someone, and he pursued that. On many occasions, Jimmy felt like Scott was holding him back or didn't believe in/support him enough. Jimmy could never shake the thought that Scott believed he was too weak, and grew to resent Scott's devotion to diplomacy, viewing it as stifling and cowardly.

Scott, on the other hand, never wanted anything but Jimmy. Everything Scott did during Third Life was to keep them and their home safe. I fully believe that Scott would have been perfectly content to stay in their valley and just have a life with Jimmy. And naturally, Scott struggled to understand why Jimmy kept trying to throw that away, why Jimmy kept putting himself and their lives in danger, over and over. Scott was deeply scared by Jimmy's 'reckless' behavior, and sometimes he was harsh because of it, though he often was the one to give in for the sake of peace between them. They went to war against Dogwarts, in the end, and they died there.

Neither of them were bad or wrong. They struggled to communicate, maybe- multiple of their arguments would end with Jimmy shelving it, leaving to work on something else and neither of them even bringing it up again with Scott silently deciding to let Jimmy have his way- and didn't really understand the other. But neither of them had "bad" desires, and neither of them were "toxic" toward the other- they loved each other, despite it all, until they died- in any major way.

They just wanted very different things, irreconcilably, in a way that was always going to end up with at least one of them getting hurt, no matter how much they tried to avoid it. Especially in circumstances as brutal as a death game.

Sometimes nobody's the bad guy, sometimes you're just different people in an unkind world.

[indybob]

Idk why but early to mid forties hangster has been stuck in my head and they won’t leave me alone. I’m thinking they’ve been married for going on ten years, they adopted two kids, a pair of siblings, a girl and a boy. The first few years are difficult at first, but they both get promoted beyond flying, and Jake is still so in love with his job, though Bradley is less so.

After a long and difficult conversation, Bradley decides to retire from the Navy after 20 years. He misses flying, and he finds that he genuinely would rather help raise the kids, so he becomes a sort of stay at home dad. He gets his penchant, healthcare, and all those other benefits for himself, Jake, and their kids, while Jake continues to rank up to a two star admiral.

Bradley lasts about three months in “retirement” before he applies to be an instructor at a local flight school, deciding that his fighter jet days are in the past, but his love for flight will never fade. He picks up a few students throughout the year as a sort of part time passion job. Something to do for fun while the kids are at school all day and his husband is at work.

It works out great because not only does Bradley have something to do, but he finds he has a knack for teaching and that it brings him just as much joy, if not even more, than flying fighter jets. It becomes the best compromise for himself and Jake so one of them can be at home a little more consistently with the kids, and neither one of them has to give up their dreams.

And, well, nothing fills Jake’s heart with love quite like seeing his husband so happy.

[starkeyssweetheart]

❤︎ kitty!reader x rafe cameron headcanons

kitty!reader who infuriated rafe from their first meeting with her flawless beauty and bitchy attitude. kitty who remembers his stone cold glare perfectly, reciprocating his hatred from the get go.

kitty!reader who sets aside her differences with rafe when she wants to buy drugs. rafe who takes a lot of ‘convincing’ to even consider selling to her, ending up with her flashing him her tits for a single line.

rafe who is really paranoid when he finally realises his infatuation with her, worried that she’ll take advantage of him or betray him like everyone else in his life. kitty who is equally as anxious, never allowing herself to be vulnerable to anyone.

kitty!reader who would rather parade random guys around kildare rather than admit her feelings for rafe. rafe who avoids her like the plague but cannot bring himself to even think of another girl when she’s in his every thought.

rafe whose last straw ie seeing her making out with a random guy at the boneyard. whilst slightly high, he strides over to pull him off of his girl, glaring at her furiously. kitty who was surprised to learn the next day that he’d practically claimed her, scaring every other man in outer banks from even looking her way.

kitty!reader who is irked to learn this, rebelling by giving him the silent treatment for weeks. rafe who would rather her ignore him than see her with other guys. kitty who even stops buying drugs from him, making the trip to the cut to see barry instead. rafe who goes over to barry’s on a friday night to see kitty with him, taking her home immediately.

kitty!reader who is slightly scared at his unusual silence as he forces her to go home, before realising how serious his feelings were for her. rafe who keeps his jaw clenched, realising how fucked he is.

kitty!reader who doesn’t want to make the first move, despite realising she likes him too. rafe who can’t take it anymore, pinning her to his car door and kissing her like he’d been starved all his life.

kitty!reader who walks her boyfriend like a dog, letting him follow her around all day as she shops and fans. rafe who is obsessed with his girl, stealing her camera to take pictures of her all day.

rafe who can’t sleep unless kitty is safe in his arms. kitty who wakes him up every morning without fail to tell him her weirdly vivid dreams, usually about him. kitty and rafe who recreate her better dreams.

kitty!reader who takes rafe to her secret spot on the beach go watch the sunset together. rafe who fucks her there every time.

rafe who only lets kitty cut his hair. she buzzed it when they had a fight, wanting to piss him off, but ended up regretting it because he looked so hot.

kitty!reader x rafe who fight to top each other in bed, neither wanting to submit to the other. rafe who finally shows kitty how to trust him to take care of her.

rafe who spoils kitty even more when they start dating, even buying her a rare breed of cat just to please her. kitty who names the cat ‘rafe jr’ just to annoy him. rafe who threatens to put the cat up for adoption. the cat who takes a liking to rafe, following him around everywhere when he’s home.

kitty!reader who is constantly bratty to rafe when he annoys her. rafe who punishes her for her attitude in bed, leaving his back with several scratches from her acrylics. rafe who equally rewards and praises her when she’s good for him, taking her shopping almost everyday.

kitty!reader who is the type to show up to rafe’s place in nothing but black lacy lingerie, a trench coat and heels as an extremely rare apology for annoying him.

rafe who knew she’s it for him as soon as he realised he was enamoured by her, willing to put up with her and her stubbornness if it meant she’d be by his side forever. rafe who also buys them their own place with three spare rooms just for storage space for all of her clothes.

kitty!reader x rafe who quit doing recreational drugs for each other, realising that the other is all they really need. barry who hates them for it, losing two of his richest customers. (poor barry)

kitty!reader x rafe who never break up, no matter how serious their fights get. rafe who is surprisingly good at communication when it comes to making up with her. kitty and rafe who like to make up in better ways than just talking.

🌼 (more)

[sofa-king-lame]

Buddie Drabble just because!

Started writing this to fill a prompt and it took on a life of its own, so…here’s a drabble for no reason other than I wanted to write it.

—

Kissing Buck in his Jeep at a Raising Cane’s drive-thru at two in the morning wasn’t exactly the way he had planned on kissing him for the first time, but Eddie wouldn’t change it given the chance.

They’d spent the day hitting thrift stores up the coast in search of a first-edition book by an author Buck was currently fixated on. Neither of them had realised just how far up the coast they’d ended up until it hit eight o’clock and Buck had punched in Eddie’s address to head home. Five hours if they took the highway, four and a half if they bent the speed limits a little. Because it was the end of a holiday weekend they hit traffic just outside of Fresno, adding at least an extra god knows how many hours to their trip.

Eddie had dozed off at some point to the sound of Buck tapping his fingers on the steering wheel along to his playlist of nineties alternative songs. He wakes as Buck finishes ordering their food in the drive-thru, rubbing his gritty eyes with closed fists.

“That’ll be twenty-five even,” comes the exhausted voice of the cashier. “Please drive to the next window.”

“Thank-you!” Buck says cheerfully. Eddie doesn’t know how he’s still so upbeat, given they’d left Eddie’s place at six that morning. Buck notices Eddie is awake and flashes him a soft smile that makes Eddie’s stomach somersault in a way he’s become quite accustomed to.

“Where are we?” Eddie yawns. “Aside from the obvious.”

“Bakersfield,” Buck answers quietly as he pays the cashier and pulls forward to the next window. “Felt like my stomach was starting to eat itself, figured you’d be hungry too.”

“Famished,” Eddie replies, taking the food Buck hands him. Opening the bag he finds exactly what he would have ordered for himself had he been awake. He stares at the food, unblinking as he turns to look at Buck (who has pulled in to a parking space so they can eat).

“What? Did I order the wrong thing?” Buck asks, eyebrows creasing in concern. “No pickles, extra bread and extra sauce. Right?”

“No, that’s - this is exactly right,” Eddie croaks. “Buck, the last time we ate Raising Cane’s together was two years ago. You seriously remembered my order?”

“I remember everything about you,” Buck murmurs softly and that’s all that Eddie needs before he’s leaning over the console and kissing Buck like he’s the answer to all of Eddie’s questions. Which he is, he’ll have you know. Buck makes a muffled surprised noise against Eddie’s lips before he’s kissing him back enthusiastically, fisting a hand in the front of Eddie’s shirt. Dreams by The Cranberries starts drifting through the car speakers and Eddie has to pull back to laugh.

“Your stupid fucking playlist,” he huffs in amusement, forehead pressed against Buck’s.

“What’s wrong with it? This is a great song!” Buck argues indignantly, bringing one hand up to rest on the back of Eddie’s neck.

“It’s perfect,” Eddie sighs.

“You’re perfect,” Buck mutters, which is total bullshit but Eddie will allow it.

“I love you,” Eddie murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to Buck’s lips.

“I love you more,” Buck grins.

“Not a competition, Buck,” Eddie snorts, because if it were Eddie would win hands down.

“You’re just saying that because you know you’d lose if it was,” Buck teases, kissing Eddie again. Eddie lets him have this one too, because he has Buck. He doesn’t need much else.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

you in my eyes [5] l Javier Peña

Summary:  you weren't friends and you certainly weren't planning anything more together

Warnings:  smut, fingering, kissing, enemies (?) to lovers, misogyny and sexism at work, some bad language, Murphy shows up, alcohol

A/N: I don't know how many people read this series, but I wanted to add another chapter. Maybe I can make someone happy with it.

your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[previous chapter]

[masterlist]

You turned down the TV and sat up on the couch, someone was knocking on the door. It was already late Friday evening, which you decided to spend at home. After Messina announced that O'Connell had been urgently called to the States, you felt calmer. That's why you didn’t go to any pub or place like that.

The knock repeated and you finally approached the door.

"Javier?" the man on the other side smiled “What are you doing here?”

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, a little confused.

"No. But it's late. Is something wrong?"

He raised his hand, in which he held the bottle of whiskey, and waved it, smiling slyly.

"I won the bet," he boasted.

You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned against the door frame, looking at him with interest. Peña was pleased to note that you were wearing a green baggy t-shirt, probably from the department's supply, and your hair was still damp from the shower. You looked nice.

"There was a bet, back at the office. The guys were betting on when O'Connell would give up and come home." Javier explained. "And I won."

"You bet he'd leave right now?"

"No. I said someone would punch him in the face."

You burst out laughing. And even Peña laughed, still holding his bottle in front of you.

"We're partners, so you deserve it, too."

"Oh! How generous of you! You flatter me, Agent Peña."

You bit your lip as if you were thinking about something, then gently pushed the door open, nodding slightly. 

He entered the room, bringing with him the smell of cologne and cigarette smoke.

"I wasn't expecting guests." You announced, pulling glasses out of the cabinet.

"I was wondering if I'd find you home." He mumbled, unscrewing the bottle and giving you a furtive glance. "Didn't you want to go out somewhere?"

You put the glasses down on the coffee table with a clatter and sat down on the couch, pulling your legs under you. "I wasn't in the mood. I think I'll skip places like that for a while."

Javier poured the amber liquid into the glasses and handed one to you, sitting next to you.

"¡Salud!" He raised his glass in a toast, and you did the same. "What are we drinking to?"

"Peace of mind." You replied. "Unless you have other suggestions?"

"Naah. That's good too."

You tipped the glasses down and Javier filled them again.

"Nobody's waiting for you?" you asked as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket and lit one. "I think you'd find better company than me."

"Oh! I definitely would!" Javier chuckled, blowing a wisp of smoke from his mouth. "Don't tell anyone I came here, you'll only ruin my reputation."

You laughed and covered your eyes with your hand as if you were thinking about something. "God! Can you imagine that?" Javier raised his eyebrows expectantly. "What the girls in the office say about you, what the guys say about me... And what would they say if we started sleeping together? Damn! Loise would go gray in an hour."

"Murphy would beat the shit out of me." Javier stated, sipping his drink. "He probably thinks you're too good for me."

"And he's right." you shrugged "I could be with the commander, but I'd trade him for a simple agent? Sorry, Peña, no chance."

"Fuck, you're a menace." he snorted, shaking his head in disbelief.

It was nice. He sat with you, talked about work and life. Melancholic stories from your past life, no plans for the future, because where you were you didn't really plan anything. Neither of you delved deeper, because why would you, it was just a friendly conversation over a Friday night drink.

After the third glass, he noticed your legs, exactly when you got up to go to the bathroom. The skimpy shorts gave Javier room for imagination. His eyes, dark as night, followed you involuntarily, and then he cleared his throat.

The alcohol was coursing through his veins, he felt hot, so he took off his jacket and threw it on the armchair next to him, rested his head against the headrest and closed his eyes. He didn't even hear you come back. Only the feeling of you sitting down next to him, the smell of your shampoo caught his attention.

"I'm a terrible housekeeper." you stated finishing your drink, Javier raised his head looking at you with interest "I don't have anything to eat, nothing I could give you." you pouted and he chuckled.

"Please, hermosa." he sighed "If I wanted to eat something, I would take you out for dinner. I have a hard time believing you cook anything yourself, to be honest."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise "You're suggesting that..."

"I'm not suggesting anything." he interrupted you and instinctively placed his hand on your thigh, stroking it gently "You just work a lot, like me."

"Maybe if we had someone to cook for sometime..." you pondered, completely not noticing his gesture, which only made Javier not withdraw his hand "Murphy and Connie, they definitely cook."

"Not as often as they both might claim." he raised an eyebrow and you laughed "But Connie is good at it. Anyway, you'll find out tomorrow."

"It's nice that they invited me, I guess..." you lowered your eyes, feeling a bit embarrassed "I mean... We don't know each other that well, right?"

Peña frowned.

"What the hell are you talking about? If it wasn't for you, they would still be collecting our fragments from the surrounding trees by now."

"Don't say that."

"But it's true." he moved closer to you, his hand moved higher, now resting on your hip, his thumb stroking your body hidden under your shirt. Neither of you felt embarrassed by this, maybe it was because of the drinks you had, or maybe it was that night. "You're doing a great job here. Everyone can see it."

"They think I'm a slut." you mumbled almost incomprehensibly and Javier had to tilt his head slightly to hear your words "No matter what I do, I'm labeled an easy girl. You know... I try not to worry about it, people will always talk, but sometimes... Sometimes it hurts."

He grabbed your chin and lifted it slightly. Beautiful brown eyes stared at you intently. "The most important thing is what you think about yourself. Double standards suck, you said so yourself and you were right. Surely if I say you're the coolest chica in the office, it won't change anything, right?"

You rolled your eyes. "Please..."

"And you have the prettiest legs." Peña added quickly, you chuckled "Your smile is also very pretty. And when you're excited about something, your eyes widen and shine so nicely." you snorted, your hand closing over his, which was still holding your chin. "And when you yelled at me the first time, I got hard."

The smile disappeared from your lips, which slightly widened in surprise. You fell silent, both of you a little surprised by this bold confession.

"Javier..."

His name was quieter than a whisper, but he heard it clearly. He leaned even closer. Warm breath brushed your lips.

"This is really a very bad idea." you said with difficulty.

"You can stop me, hermosa." His lips lightly brushed yours, you closed your eyelids, inhaling the air.

"Did I really make you hard?"

"Mhmm..." you didn't see the smile of satisfaction on his lips. "They call it difficult working conditions."

It was a split second and you felt his lips on yours. All dilemmas disappeared, and when you kissed him back he knew he was gone. Your hands instantly found their way to his face, your fingers tangled in soft hair and you pulled him closer, parting your lips.

An invitation that Javier read flawlessly. His tongue slipped into your mouth, you tasted the whiskey, and that was even more captivating for him. The kisses were intense, deep as if you both could finally give vent to what had been brewing inside you for a long time. You felt him squeeze your buttock and you moaned, but his tongue effectively muffled you. So you didn't wait for anything more, in an instant you slid onto his lap and clung to his body. Javier felt your breasts under the thin T-shirt, you didn't have a bra. He knew that, of course he had already glanced at your breasts, but when he felt it…

You pulled away from his lips for a moment and looked into his dark eyes.

"You can back out at any time. No hard feelings." you said. "I don't want you to feel..."

"Used?" Javier laughed quietly. "I guess I'm the one who should be saying things like that, don't you think?" his hands gripped your buttocks tighter, making you feel the bulge in his jeans.

"Oh!"

"That's a clear answer, I guess."

He lifted himself up and his lips captured yours again. The excitement grew in your lower abdomen with every passing second, with every kiss and touch. His strong hands shamelessly slid under your shirt, first stroking your back, and after a moment he grabbed your breasts. He kneaded your tits, rolled your nipples between his fingers, and you moaned as much as his tongue in your mouth would allow you.

"Take it off." he ordered, tugging at your shirt.

"Do it yourself."

"You're something else, you know that?"

You bit your lip, smiling obediently, raising your arms up so the shirt could be removed. Javier kissed you the second your lips peeked out from behind your collar. Damn, he was a threat to you.

Large hands explored your body, testing every inch of it, teasing every nerve. Could you want more? God, you didn't have to ask, he wanted to give it all to you.

When he slid his hand into your shorts, you gasped loudly.

"Fuck, you've got a real pool here, sweetheart." he mumbled, smiling slyly. "Would you like me to take care of that?"

A nod.

"Words, hermosa. Just words."

"Yes, please."

He ran his fingers over your folds, hot and wet, knowing perfectly well that he would be able to slide them inside without a problem. And so he did. And when you threw your head back, sighing quietly, he marveled at how wonderful the sight was.

Hot lips closed over one of your nipples, sucking and teasing with his tongue, fingers moving in and out, searching for that spot that could take you apart.

"Shit, Javier..." you moaned.

You clenched your fingers in his hair, hips rising slowly and rhythmically as he finger fucked you. Why did this have to feel so good? You couldn't remember the last time you felt like this, when someone had made you feel so...

"Oh fuck!"

"I think I found it." Javier chuckled, kissing your cleavage, your skin was slightly salty from sweat but still smelled of soft soap and you "I'm holding you, hermosa, take what you need."

He crossed his fingers with his thumb massaging your clit, the pressure was perfect and soon he felt your walls clench around his fingers, your body tensing and you held your breath for a moment feeling the pleasure spread through your body.

You rested your head on Javier's shoulder breathing deeply, his hands stroking your thighs sending a pleasant shiver through your heated skin.

"That was the first one." Peña finally spoke.

"The first one?" you lifted your head and looked at him curiously "Planning more of these?"

"Oh, sweetheart..." he sighed, brushing the strands of hair from your face, then bringing his lips to yours and stealing a tender kiss "At least two more tonight." another kiss "Two in the morning." another one "And how much more will you allow me to have with you, because - fuck - I want to see you cum again. I knew I'd get in trouble with you."

Your hand stroked the back of his neck, you could probably let him have a little more of you.

It was like an addiction. Javier was addicted, and you were his best drug. Before he knew it, you were crawling under his skin, coursing through his veins, and rushing to his head. Sometimes it felt like every time he saw you, his addiction grew.

His fingerprints were all over your body, and he proudly wore yours, even though no one was around to see it. You kept the fact that you were dating a secret, even though you never talked about it like that.

God! You never thought you could fall for a guy like that, and even more so that you would let him do things like that to you. Because sex with Javier was on another level. 

Never before, no one had made you feel so desired, enough, beautiful, and fulfilled. Peña gave you the best orgasms, the ones that left you silent for a moment afterwards because you couldn't form a grammatically correct sentence in your head. The sleep problems disappeared and lazy mornings were something you loved doing with him. 

His sleepy eyes, his hot body, his ruffled hair... In the dictionary, next to the word 'sex', they should have put a picture of Javier, you were sure of that.

In your apartment or in his, in the car in the parking lot, or at work in some tight space, because you wanted a quickie. It was getting more and more intense and what you were feeling was starting to scare you a little. A little over three weeks since O'Connell left, and you felt really good. For a while.

The information about the mole in the office was bothering Messina and she had talked to you about it many times. You promised that you would revolve around it, but for some time you hadn't found any new leads. It was frustrating.

"I talked to informants, but no one would tell me anything." You muttered one evening, resigned.

Peña opened a beer and sat down with his ordered food. "Maybe you're looking in the wrong places? Maybe it's not some higher agent or something?"

"But all this information that's been leaking..." you sighed.

“Honestly, many people have access to it. Hermosa, stop stabbing your food with fork and start eating,” he replied, gesturing to your plate.

However, your gaze drifted away for a moment. Javier noticed it after a moment, huffed impatiently. "Hermosa." he repeated warningly.

"Hmm?"

"You'll have cold food." he shook his head in disbelief. "I really don't know why I'm here with you."

You looked up from your plate and smiled. Your foot, under the table, slowly slid up his leg and headed for his crotch, rubbing it lightly. "I think I know why."

He raised an eyebrow expectantly. It was nice, what was between you. Although neither of you named it. The sex was fucking amazing, you could talk or not talk at all and Javier loved it. You didn't pressure him, you didn't expect declarations or confessions. You took what he gave you, you gave just as much.

And eventually both of you started eating more or less regularly, although the last attempt at cooking ended in burnt chicken, because when Javier came back from work he had a strong urge to get into your panties.

He grabbed you at the ankle and squeezed lightly which made you smile, he loved it. You spent quite a lot of time together and he slowly started to notice the little things he liked about you. Your smile was his favorite though.

"Murphy and I have to go out of town. We'll be gone for a few days." he said watching you as you reached for his beer and took a few sips.

"Anything important? Do you have new sources?" you asked, frowning.

Javier nodded "Yeah, we want to check them out. We also need to watch one guy."

"Okay. Just watch your backs. I won't be able to save your asses there." You squealed as he gripped your calf tighter and pulled you so hard you almost fell off the chair "Peña! Fuck you!"

"You wish." he chuckled, but then turned serious "You watch your back too, hermosa. Promise me that."

And you promised, and then you gave him something so he wouldn't forget about you and would have something to think about when he and Murphy were out of town.

"Will you miss me?"

You shook your head. "I don't think so."

"I think you will." Javier stopped the car in front of the office building and turned off the engine.

It was still early, the streets were empty. You were enjoying your last moments together. His hand on your thigh squeezed you lightly, it was nice.

"Tell me you'll miss me." He looked at you with a gentle smile and those eyes of a poor puppy. "I know you have a soft spot for me."

"You wish!" you chuckled.

"I will."

There was something in his tone of voice that made the laughter die on your lips. Those ambiguous sentences made your heart beat faster, but you calmed it down every time. You didn't want it to happen so soon. And what was that anyway?

"Maybe a little." You finally sighed, his lips stretched into a smile.

"Kiss me, hermosa."

It wasn't a request, more of an order, but you didn't mind. Javier moved closer, you stroked his cheek tenderly, and then you let his lips brush yours. At first gently, because he was teasing you, and he loved doing that. Finally, you curled your fingers in his hair and Javier slid his tongue between your lips, you moaned. His hand grabbed your waist as if he wanted to pull you even closer. Damn, he kissed like a dream.

Another brush of lips, another tender touch. Finally, he rested his forehead against yours and sighed. "Maybe we still have time, huh? Murphy will definitely be late."

"I don't think so." you replied quietly.

"He's always late."

“But not today.”

Javier looked at you, surprised, and then turned around. Steve was standing in front of the hood of his car, his glasses slid down his nose and he looked at you with disbelief on his face.

You opened the door. "I guess I'll go now." you said, smiling uncertainly, "Take care of yourselves."

"You too, hermosa." Javier replied, sitting down in his seat and putting on his glasses.

Steve nodded in your direction, then walked over to the car. "Really?" he asked, staring at his friend, "You and her? Really?"

Peña didn't even look at him, "Get in."

"Is that why you haven't been so annoying lately?" Murphy chuckled, but got in and closed the door with a soft click.

The engine started and the car slowly rolled down the road.

It was strange. They managed to come back a day early. He wanted to surprise you. He even bought some oranges, which you liked so much lately. But the apartment door was closed. Javier kept knocking for a while. He glanced at his watch. It was late, so you should have…

"She left." The older man peeked out from behind the neighboring door and glared at Javier.

"Long time ago?" he asked, surprised.

The man shrugged. "I don't remember. But she looked really nice." He smiled slightly. “You must have been late, boy. If she’s not here yet…”

Javier nodded and quickly went down the stairs. Something strange tightened his insides. He didn't expect this...

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist: @qpiiee @missladym1981 @axshadows @djappleblush @picketniffler @txmel @wowitsafemale @cheekychaos28 @underneath-the-sky-again @misstokyo7love

[the-crooked-library]

I would like to point out how clearly remake shows us that Ellen is not satisfied with Thomas sexually because their sex scene which is shot to be not sexy on purpose clearly, also shows us that when Thomas takes her Ellen thinks and talks about Orlok and wants Thomas to be like Orlok aka kiss her heart. But he can’t. He can’t give her what she wants.

^^^^ YES this aspect is incredibly prominent, and a significant component of the disconnect in Ellen's marriage to Thomas! There's a few intersecting issues there, but they all do come down to the same thing. Ellen isn't satisfied, because Thomas is never willing to actually take her desires and preferences into account when they are together.

It's shown numerous times that, in a sexual context, Ellen wants to be worshipped. She has a dominant and possessive streak, she is extremely sensual, and these elements are essential to her pleasure. They also intersect with her desire to be seen and recognized for who she is, as well to be given the respect she is so consistently denied. These desires are all strongly discouraged - both in her time, and sometimes in ours. As a woman, she is expected to be deferring; and chaste, except for when her husband chooses. Her opinions and complexity are also never really considered; which is not unexpected, of course. Ellen is a Tragic Madwoman - it's Ophelia, all over again. If you recall, when Hamlet appears mad, the people around him assume there is more to it than his father's death; but when Ophelia does, everybody chalks it up to her father's murder, and nothing else. With all that said, what I personally love about Ellen is that, despite whatever shame she might feel around the subject, or her efforts to be proper, she always knows exactly what she wants. In part, that's what makes her married life so tragic - she keeps reaching out to Thomas, offering him these vulnerable aspects of herself, as well as an opportunity to understand her and connect with her; and she is met with one rejection after another. Still, she cannot ignore what she is - and her choosing Orlok in the end is symbolic of her deciding to "deceive" herself no longer.

Thomas, by contrast, is playing mind games with himself. In theory, he could be submissive. If he indulged that potential within himself, it could be a way for them to connect - considering Ellen's inclinations; however, he sees this aspect of himself as weak, emasculating, shameful, and thus never explores it - except by force, as per the usual gothic exploration of shame/desire, which muddles the waters in that regard. Much of the way he treats Ellen is rooted in the patriarchal rules he cannot bring himself to abandon, since doing so threatens his own sense of masculinity - and, by extension, dignity and self-worth. As such, whenever faced with a situation that might prompt him to be soft, emotional, or worshipful of her, he overcorrects instead. He is afraid of Ellen's perceived "abnormality" because of what it might mean for him. Additionally, he is fairly obviously queercoded, in a classic vampire-genre way; which, in my opinion, is yet another reason they just don't quite seem to click. Whatever he might want out of a sexual relationship, he doesn't really want it with Ellen - and, of course, given his homophobic society, that just piles on more shame, emasculation, and repression. This is why, after their one depicted sexual scene, when she laments her "uncleanliness," he cannot reassure her, no matter how he tries. He cannot accept the "abnormal" aspects of her, because the way he sees her is always affected by the way he sees himself - through a lens of misogyny, queerphobia, and horror. His care for her is therefore largely superficial; he does not know her.

All in all, I am obsessed with this aspect of their failmarriage. They're both so lonely and so desperate for companionship; but neither of them is getting what they want. Not with each other.

[amkyor]

K. BAKUGO HEADCANON ᡣ𐭩

Side note: This headcanon is about how Bakugo would feel more connected to his partner in silence. Also, chapter 22 of my Bakugo x Reader Fanfiction is out now!! Check it out!! Link at the end of this post!

Bakugo’s Silent Connection:

Katsuki Bakugo isn’t exactly the type to open up easily, and he’s not one for long, heartfelt conversations.

But when it comes to you, he finds a deep sense of comfort in your presence—even when there’s nothing being said.

The silence between you isn’t awkward or uncomfortable; instead, it’s a quiet bond that speaks volumes.

In a world where Bakugo is constantly striving to be the best, where his quirk demands attention and his aggressive nature often pushes people away, he finds solace in the peace that you bring.

When you sit together in silence, whether it’s just hanging out on the couch or sitting side by side during downtime, Bakugo feels more connected to you than words could ever express.

It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate conversation or small talk, but in those moments of quiet, he doesn’t have to put on any kind of show.

There’s no need for him to act tough or boast about his achievements. He can simply exist beside you, feeling your presence as something grounding and comforting.

The silence doesn’t feel empty—it feels like a mutual understanding, a space where you both feel safe enough to just be yourselves without the pressures of the world around you.

Sometimes, Bakugo will glance at you in these moments, noticing the way your fingers brush against his or how you rest your head on his shoulder.

He doesn’t need to say anything; the way your bodies are in sync tells him everything.

It’s in the subtle way their breaths align, in the shared moments when neither of them feels the need to fill the air with words.

In fact, Bakugo probably feels more connected to you during these silences than during any intense conversation or passionate argument.

It’s as if, in those peaceful moments, he can actually feel your heart beating in rhythm with his, and it reminds him that, despite all his fiery explosions and constant drive to be the best, there’s something simple and pure about being with someone who understands him.

And when the silence finally breaks, it’s not because something needs to be said, but because Bakugo feels the quiet weight of his feelings for you.

Maybe he’ll mumble something like, “Tch, don’t get used to me being this quiet,” but deep down, he knows that moments like this—where words are unnecessary—are some of the most meaningful.

Bakugo Fanfiction

[1980shorrorfilm]

the cut that always bleeds

keep clicking.

pairing…rain carradine x fem!reader x ellie williams

in which…ellie doesn’t seem to have time for you anymore; rain does.

before you read…angst, fluff. full transparency this comes forward very rain x reader but life is all about perspective 💜 don’t count how many times you see the word ‘moon.’ pretend theres no errors challenge. also pls no one get mad at this it’s just a little (4k count) gay story. . .

you’re cold.

the bonfire is blazing before you, and you’re cold. rain is sitting by your side, just barely providing you the warmth you crave— but ellie is a deep void that’s sucking it from you, sucking the joy from you that your other friends have. 

she’s occasionally sparing you glances over the flickering fire, and every time your eyes meet, there’s something behind them. but she pulls away, devoting her attention to the girl beside her, forgetting you’re there. 

you’re not sure what you’ve done— why she got bored of your friendship and seemingly dropped it for another. not that she couldn’t have other friends, you just take notice when someone else is prioritized over you. and it's not a nice feeling.

she doesn’t hang out with you anymore, endless excuses that are so fucking lame that you don’t even bother arguing against them. your patrols are awkward, always quiet like you’re waiting for the other to start a conversation, but neither of you do.

what could you talk about? you selfishly don’t want to hear about the details of her life without you present in it. you miss that— her, more than anything.

but you know she’s happy, her face flushes hues of pink with each interaction with the brunette. she looks nervous around her, picking at the right things to say before they roll off her tongue. that’s how you know it’s a crush— you were once the same. not now.

you feel a weird resentment. it’s not anger, but annoyance, wondering when or if she would notice you’re no longer her shadow, and if it would bother her.

rain notices the inability you have to show a smile, her sister's singing slowly comes to a bittersweet end.

she leans closer to you while your friends whistle at ellie, her head lowering in embarrassment, a habit you found cute.

“you good?”

you turn your head, meeting her blue eyes, swallowed by concern and her hand finding your knee out of habit when things are wrong. it’s not even a question that you had to answer because she knew. you tell her an easy lie, “yeah…just tired.”

she believes it, you think, nodding in return.

“do you…want me to bring you home?” she shyly offers, neither of you paying attention to the green irises locked in on you. ellie didn’t care for whatever relationship you and rain shared— she loves you both and that’s that. but, you were her friend first. 

you were the new kid that enjoyed sitting quietly with ellie in the comfort of her garage, rain was more sociable and almost too kind for you, at the time. now, of course you adore it. you love that rain spends her company with you, caring for you, admiring you. she had a way of making you forget everything else, and more importantly, ellie.

so, ellie can’t help but feel the tugging of her heart, while you’re tugged away from her. and she doesn’t even care to realize, she had placed the first brick, and built the wall between you. 

she’s not a perfect person. but that’s not what you wanted from her or expected. you just wanted her there, with you, not near you as someone you used to know.

rain catches you in your head again.

“hm?” she hums, a gentle squeeze on your knee realizing you let her question linger with no response. you nod, wanting nothing more than the fresh air from the forest than the heavy smoke surrounding you, suffocating you the same way ellie did.

rain gets up, and you copy, now capturing the eyes of your friends. “we’re ready to crash,” she announces, an exchanged look with ellie that you don’t read into, “don’t stay out too late, kids.”

you two ignore the groans, rain rolling her eyes with a ‘yeah, yeah,’ as you walk away together. 

the dirt path darkens the farther you get away from the fire, only the moon providing light for you. it casts an eerie yet lovely shadow over the tall trees, dead with orange leaves clinging to their branches. they crunch and crumble beneath your feet, both of you finding peace at the noise. 

when you turn to rain, she’s watching the moon— intently, as it could disappear at any given moment. 

it’s sweet, her fixation, you wish you could take her camera and snap a photo of her for yourself. to hang above your bed the way she does with her favorite pictures…quite a few of you. then her head turns to you, and yours turns away, to your dirt-covered shoes. 

“what?” 

“hm?”

“you’re staring, y/n.” 

“am not.”

rain laughs quietly, your face burning with heat at getting caught. it’s not the first time, but it’s the first time she’s dared to point it out. you can’t help that her features are really fucking pretty, mirroring ellie in that sense. and that when she’s super focused, her lips part an inch and her eyes narrow in, and she looks adorable. 

rain changes the topic, her tone now serious, “sooo…wanna tell me what’s up?”

you bite your tongue, literally and figuratively, not having the courage to confess that her sister is the storm cloud above your head and the boulder weighing you down. again, she notices, because of course she does, and quickly talks again, “im sorry—i didn’t—you just seem off.”

rain is mentally cursing herself for how far from smooth her words come out, not sure how to help you in the way she desperately wants to. she wouldn’t push for you to tell her anything you weren’t comfortable with, and that’s often what made communicating to rain so easy.

just, not with this, not this time.

“gotta headache,” you give yet another short lie, hoping it goes over her head. it doesn’t, not completely, but she accepts it. rain nods, the silence between you two only lasting for a few seconds before she speaks again, “ellie’s singing that bad, huh?” 

the joke finally gets a soft laugh from you, rain feeling satisfied she earned it from you, that it causes her lips to tug upward. now it’s her turn to stare, to observe the beauty in you that she finds in the moon, how despite the internal turmoil you’re enduring, you still manage to radiate such light. 

she doesn’t blink. not until she steps on a twig, and swallows the air, redirecting her gaze forward again. it’s a weird feeling…in a daze from you. it’s forbidden, you have only ever been friends, ellie had basically built your friendship over a series of game nights as a trio.

how could she cross a line that has been firmly in place for years? would you cross it?

she goes quiet the rest of the way home, and you don’t have the energy to make a conversation, so it’s just the chirping from the insects and the occasional blowing of the wind. you don’t mind it.

when you successfully sneak back into the walls of jackson, rain continues to walk you back to your place, all the way up the steps to your porch and standing idly in front of the door. 

“well…” rain starts, looking up from her white and red sneakers to your face, “i hope you feel better—your head, i mean—if not you should head to the infirmary, just in case, you know.”

she’s so doting you almost consider her words, the lie you created falsely slipping into a short reality, and you nod. “yeah, yeah, will do that.”

“cool, yeah, okay,” rain’s voice is above a whisper, almost forgetting this is the part where she walks away. that’s until you pull away from the moment first, something of a tight-lipped smile on your face that was practically saying goodbye to her, opening your door. 

when it shuts, rain lets out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding, lingering on your doorstep for a few passing seconds, before forcing herself to leave.

and as if you jinxed it, there’s a subtle pounding on your temple when you strip from your outdoor clothes, but you couldn’t blame that on the wires in your brain. 

it was the heavy, so fucking loud, and obnoxious thoughts of ellie. how dina is probably cuddled into her side while you’re going to sleep in your lonely bed. you don’t like feeling alone like this, just moments prior you were fine— you had rain at your side. 

you wish you invited her in; and that she’d lay by you with enough space in your platonic comfort zones. she would happily do so, and she wouldn’t leave you until you fell into a slumber when she knew you were at ease. 

you fall asleep picturing that, picturing her.

the next few days are surprisingly, easy.

it’s easy to numb the hurt from ellie with the presence of rain, and she was making herself your shadow. lunch at the tipsy bison, leading you to the back where you’re tucked away from everyone else. it was nice, it was intimate. other evenings when the sun is setting and she’s at your door, the sky casting an orangish glow on a certain angle of her face that makes her look like she descended from heaven itself. 

she'd come with goodies from the greenhouse she spent most of her time in, taking the uglier veggies and fruits that she had grown and making a meal out of them with you, for you. she was taking care of you in every sense of the word, not allowing a frown to fall upon your face.

today was different, though.

you didn’t attend the bar and she didn’t show up on your doorstep. instead, you’re in her bedroom— the smell of wood filling your senses from her rustic furniture, making the room feel cozier. a bubble from the outside world you never wanted to pop.

you're sifting through her latest collection of polaroids, mostly— no, entirely —of the moon in its different stages. you don't point that out, though, you don’t find it repetitive. you smile lightly, your fingertips tracing the edges of the glossy photographs. rain observing your face as she mirrors you, sitting crisscrossed parallel to you on her bed.

“i know it’s not super exciting—“ she says, almost apologetic, downplaying the actual excitement she had when she pulled the stack from out of her nightstand to show you. “i just think she’s pretty.”

you’re eyeing one of the blurry ones, making an illusion that there were two moons; two bright, almost ethereal orbs hanging in the sky, like they're celestial twins. you hum, taking it in, then glancing up at her, her expression soft but expectant, she's been watching you closely this whole time. curious, you ask, “she?”

“oh,” her lips curl slightly, a tenderness, maybe shyness, to her voice when she swallows then speaks again, “people in the old world used to think the moon was—well, is, a feminine symbol—sorta like a connection, i guess. and…just look at her…she’s…”

rain trails off, and you don’t seem to notice how her dark pupils are deeply set on your face, like she was trying to remember each outline, catching herself fading from the conversation and into you.

“she's just...always there...and always different—but always beautiful," she gulps, shrugging, afraid you're losing interest, “i don't know...i guess i just like that idea.”

you feel crazy for thinking there's something else to her words, something that makes your skin flush, but you blame it on the intimate atmosphere. you hum again, letting the silence settle between you two, but the air just seems to grow thick, a subtle tension building in that moment. not bad, just...different.

when you're done admiring the photographs, your gaze drifts to hers. she clears her throat, and your heart pounds in your chest. she talks first after building the courage.

“do you...” rain begins, her voice wavering slightly, but she manages to push through it. “do you wanna go to the bonfire tomorrow?”

“tomorrow? i didn’t know they planned that,” you say, wondering why her simple words and question have a weight behind them, a half inviting and half uncertain look on her face. like she's desperate for you to say yes.

but, you're already trying to come up with a reason to why you’re about to decline. things have been okay. you don’t need to be there, around ellie, and slip away again.

rain shakes her head, “they didn’t. i just thought, maybe you and i…”

your breath gets caught in your throat. it's not a typical gathering, it's rain wanting to be with you, and just you. she can tell you're caught off guard, her mouth opening, “it’s totally cool if you don’t—”

“no, yeah, we can,” you agree in the most nonchalant way you can, like the warmth isn't spreading through your chest by the mere idea. rain is not a rebel, not in the same sense that ellie was, and already took hesitation to your group sneaking out; she is making an exception for you.

she doesn’t reply, chewing her cheek to prevent the grin ready to flash, and to distract herself from overthinking it.

and then, she ruins the moment.

“by the way…ellie has been asking about you.”

damn it.

“she has?” your stomach flips, rain catching the glimpse of hope in your eyes, but it doesn’t last, not when you continue to speak again. “we haven’t been…”

“i know,” rain says softly, “that’s why she—”

“she’s busy these days,” you cut rain off, the feeling of comfort that ellie still cares, not able to overpower the bitterness you hold. going through her sister, to reach you? pathetic. she could spare five minutes from her dina-centered days to simply check in on you.

you add, “and i’ve been busy, too.”

with rain. she nods, letting it end there.

rain loves her sister, obviously, but she’s aware of her screw-ups that sometimes involve the ones she cares about. and as much as rain had a habit of figuring out her family and friend's problems, she couldn’t, not with this, not with whatever was going on between you. 

ellie will cross that bridge when she comes to it. and so will you. the best she could do was simply be there when you two needed her. 

and you need her.

the next night, rain had shown up at your doorstep the very moment jackson had gone dark. hair neatly tucked half up, adorned in that crimson jacket of hers, smelling like a mix of the clementines she grows in the greenhouse and the generic soap she slathered on her body. a scent that reminds you you’re okay.

rain was making simple conversation on the trail there, still on alert for any possible unwelcome eyes or visitors in the surrounding woods, whenever her eyes weren’t on you. the moon is full, and you look beautiful. she almost said that, but decided against it.

when you approach the clearing, it is an odd feeling to be there without hearing ellie’s honey voice sing a familiar song, the crack at a smile on her face if her eyes would land on you…that was a while ago, though. 

you barely sigh, watching rain tug off her backpack and bend over, getting the fire started while you sit on an empty log. you wait, bouncing your knee before you interrupt the silence. “it’s quiet.”

fantastic observation, y/n. rain spares you a glance, “that’s a good thing— means it’s just us.”

though she had meant it in the sense you’re safe, there’s an edge to her voice that makes your skin flush, and your heart thuds a little harder than you care to admit.

it is the most intimate setting when rain successfully gets the fire to spark, poking at it until it grows into a steady flame, then joining you. sitting directly next to you, thighs mere inches from touching. “i brought a blanket,” she mentions, “just in case you’re cold— get cold.”

“i’m fine, rain.”

“okay—i just don’t want you getting sick or anything,” rain finds it necessary to explain, a smile flashing on your face at her taking you into consideration. you chew at your bottom lip, and rain shoves her hands in her pockets.

for some reason, the energy feels charged, somehow electrifying despite the calmness of it all, the crackling of the fire and the occasional brushing of her leg against yours.

you're both quiet for a while, not sure what to say, to address whatever was hanging in the air like the mist in the surrounding forest, acting like barrier between you two and the rest of the world. that's when you feel her shift beside you.

rain is hesitant, but she nervously questions you, “was it…really your head that night? i mean—when i walked you home.”

you weren't ready for that. it feels too loaded, and your throat tightens.

but, you glance from the fire to her anyways, ember flames dancing on her delicate features, contorted in slight worry. she looks as ethereal as the moon, and maybe it's the setting, the trust you feel in this moment; that you show her some honesty.

“no,” it comes out lowly, and you shrug, trying to pass it off like it was truly not a big deal, “just didn’t want to be there.”

she still wears that face, a gentle intensity. her brows knit together, trying to push for more without making you uncomfortable, “…how come?” 

your sister. for a moment, you debate those words, considering telling her the truth, the full truth. about how you have felt about ellie, and how ellie has made you feel. like shit. chewed up stale gum at the bottom of her dirty black and white converse. it doesn't leave your mouth.

you awkwardly chuckle and fiddle with your fingers, “i dunno— i guess i just…”

you hesitate, her stare so intense you have to look back into the fire. you search for something simpler, but still raw, no longer wanting to hide all of your feelings from rain. especially when shes staring at you the way that she is.

“didn’t feel wanted?”

you hate the words as soon as they leave your lips, it sounds flat out pathetic as if you had only said them for pity. but it's true. you felt like a burden that night, there for no reason at all, dimming the mood with your disconnect from the group. it’s the nerves that make you continue to add to it.

“like…everybody had somebody,” you begin, managing to talk about ellie without explicitly saying her name, “and i was just there? i don’t know.”

you chuckle lightly at the end, but rain sees through it, through you, covering your hurt. her expression softens instantly.

“that’s not true…you have me.”

you blink at rain, her voice ever so gentle, and she reaches out, placing her hand on your knee. you like her tentative touch, so simple, yet it acts like an anchor keeping you at bay from the unfriendly thoughts in your head. it causes that internal warmth she's made you familiar with, to course through your body. from your toes, to where her hand rests, to your shoulders.

rain squeezes your knee gently, like a reassurance. a promise to her words, and the air tightens.

your gaze meets hers, the softness and sincerity behind her blue eyes, your cheeks warmer than the fire in front of you. it is just the crackling of the fire, and a howling of the wind through the trees, and you shiver. but, that's not thanks to the sudden coolness.

it's her stare. the goosebumps rise on your skin, and it happens, like that.

a mutual decision made by your eyes, a flickering between them and your lips. you lean in slightly, breath catching as your nerves grow, but she eases them when she does the same, assuring you that she wants this.

both of your hearts beat like rabbits, and your lips connect.

and then there was nothing else, no thinking, no brooding, no ellie.

just rain.

she takes it slow, cautious at first, once again squeezing your knee, but this time it’s to reassure herself— that you’re actually kissing her, that this is real, not in her head. it's not your first kiss ever, not at all, but it's the first that felt like it had meaning. like all of the love she has grown for you is on full display, wanting, needing, you to feel it.

you need to grab her, your hand slides to the back of her neck to somehow pull her closer, yet she’s the one deepening the kiss. not in a messy way, not in a rough way. she doesn’t want that from you, not yet, at least. it’s still just as tender as it is passionate, it’s like a dream.

and for a moment you had pictured with someone else, maybe even in this exact place on this exact log, this feels…right. 

when time is no longer paused, and you finally pull away, your mouth is still parted collecting your breath. “fuck…” rain mumbles, and then she laughs, “holy fuck.”

the smile she wore quickly falters from her face, the euphoria switching to concern, “that was okay— right?”

“yeah—yeah,” you whisper, the little smile returning to both of your faces, ignoring the sudden sense of unease you had felt. it was okay, fucking better than okay and you think you want more. but when you look forward again, it’s to the fire, to the log across that ellie would occupy with her pretty voice and guitar.

and then there’s rain, shyly looking at her red and white sneakers.

a minute doesn’t even pass. you swallow thickly, leaning forward, and kissing her again.

it’s an hour later when the flames had died, a quiet walk back home with stolen glances. you’re both in a haze, minds foggy with the thought of the other. though, yours wavers, a certain pair of green eyes flashing in your head. it was supposed to be her— that’s what you had used to think. 

ellie and you, not you and rain. so naive, you were. and so wrong, because rain felt right. she felt perfect.

and your schedule is quickly prioritized around rain over the following week. her free time was yours, and yours hers. 

walks around jackson taking photos of the things she found beauty in— the light in a dark world. which included you, often off guard, or stupid faces in her bedroom. 

the sleepovers sharing her bed, rain always meeting your hands beneath the blanket, a sense of relief she craved. the chocolate chip pancakes in the morning, making sure your days started nicely, and that you were happy. all rain did was make you happy. 

and ellie, on the sidelines, took notice.

she wasn’t losing her friend— she lost her friend. to her fucking sister. not that she was upset with rain in any way, or you for that matter, it just was how it was. something she could’ve prevented. 

it’s another night you’re getting ready to go meet rain, slipping on a hoodie when you hear the knocking at your door. you already know who it is, she was still using her signature rhymed knock. two beats off from rain.

you cross your living room, twisting the knob and opening the door. ellie stands before you, in a common dark flannel and her mullet seemingly freshly trimmed, neater than usual. probably the work of someone else’s loving hands.

“hey…can i come in?” she scratches the back of her neck, and you scoot out of the way as an answer. she enters, taking in the comforting aroma of your home she hadn’t realized she missed so much. it somewhat eases the tension in her shoulders, her nerves calming. 

you slowly trail behind her, the woman sitting on your couch hunched over, elbows propped on her spread legs. this was serious, and you really don’t want this right now. 

her mouth opens before yours does, though.

“how are you?”

oh. her question catches you off guard, but it’s genuine, not surprising since she’s just a distant echo in your life these days. “i’m good,” you give her a short real answer, and she doesn’t give you time to elaborate or even ask her back.

“yeah? and—you and rain?”

you blink at her. her tone is so accusatory like any possible response will just be flat-out wrong. 

even if it’s the truth, especially if it’s the truth.

the unfortunate part is that ellie did have some right to know what your relations were with her sister; but there is nothing to tell her, because just like her and dina, you’re not calling yourselves girlfriends.

you’re friends, technically. friends that have gotten closer and closer, spending more time with each other than anyone else. letting the spark between you two grow into a flame, and into a fire. 

maybe that is the very reason why the question had left ellie’s lips, seeing a mirrored version of her and dina in you and rain. and if that is the case, why is her voice laced with venom, not obvious, yet clearly there? 

she knows you’d never hurt rain, and rain would never hurt you. there is no valid reason for her to take issue with the idea you two had something. not in your opinion, at least.

your silence is an unspoken or undecided answer, and ellie leans back, tongue-swiping her teeth. 

“right, okay,” it comes out as a rasp, with a short nod. she begins again, “you could’ve told me.”

you can’t help it— you rebuttal her. “kinda hard when you’re not around.”

“wha—” ellie’s brows furrow, suddenly standing up, eyes darkened and narrow, “every fucking time i come here, you’re gone, you know that?”

you feel a nonexistent spotlight on you that you don’t want to be under, and ellie isn’t even done speaking. “there are nights neither of you are home—so what, you’re fucking sneaking out too? it’s one thing to hide it, but to be stupid?”

“so you suddenly care about me?” you mutter, and her jaw just barely drops, taking offense at your words, pausing before she even can respond.

“how…could you even say that?”

there is no irritation in her voice this time. it’s flat, even somber, matching the energy shift in the room. you’re quiet, unable to make another snarky comment. you stare at her shoes, them approaching you, staying in place when she was just a few feet from you.

then, you look back up at her. 

“you know i love you,” ellie tells you blankly, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, something she has said a million times over. 

it’s different when you haven’t felt her love, or any sort of affection from her in weeks, and the three words seem like more of a chore. nearly meaningless to you. the only person that made you feel like you had a purpose, was now rain, and that realization fucking stings. 

“i have to go,” you disregard the current conversation, ignoring the dry humorless chuckle that escapes ellie’s lips, “can you leave? please?”

she remains still for a moment, staring at you, and you dread it. the silent observing, waiting for you to crack, drop this curtain you’re holding up to prevent her from seeing how you truly feel. 

how you’re coming to terms with your heartbreak, before the woman that broke your heart, that was never in her possession in the first place— not that she was ever aware of. 

she nods. 

ellie forces herself to move, walking past, shoulders nearly brushing when she walks past you. you wait to hear the door open, but her palm is resting on the knob.

“i…know i messed up…” she admits, “but…you could’ve come to me.”

she’s making this harder. making your mind envision a reality where you were the one that fought harder, not her. that you didn’t slowly watch the gap between you two widen, and just expressed to her how poorly she had made you feel.

that would be easier than this. she would still be your closest friend…and rain wouldn’t. 

rain, who is currently waiting for you. her bed most certainly made neatly, reserved for you to fall asleep in, her arm bound to snake its way around you and stay in place until you woke up.

ellie debates her next choice of words, but nothing comes from her. with dread, she leaves you, alone, frozen in place trying to unpack everything. it feels impossible, and you no longer have the desire to see rain, as much as she could numb this. 

you lay down in your own, and much colder bed, but your curtains are drawn wide open and the moon is shining through your window— and she looks beautiful tonight. rain is probably admiring her, wishing she had you next to her to do so.

maybe ellie is doing the same. and maybe tonight, you’re still on her mind, even if she’s gazing at it with someone else.

[peachdues]

euology

The wake begins with a clink of your wine glass against his.

By all accounts, the two of you are enjoying a romantic meal at one of this town’s finest restaurants. Tengen Uzui and extravagance go hand-in-hand, and this restaurant is certainly that. Extravagant; all starched linens and rich mahogany, the polished silverware suffused by candlelight. The intimate ambience is highlighted by the soft, melodic harmony from the restaurant’s pianist, and though the tables are filled, no one dares raise their voice above a low murmur.

Tengen looks as beautiful as he always does, dressed in a deep shade of plum that matches his eyes. This suit is a favorite of yours, one you’d picked out for him to wear to a wedding one or two summers back. You hadn’t noticed it back then, but the rich purple brings out the most subtle tints of blue in his hair, making him more impossibly attractive than he already is.

Then again, you suppose it’s easier to pick up on these small details, here at the end of all things. You’ve only got so long left to drink them in.

But no one else would suspect the truth you both know. No, you can’t imagine anyone would look at the two of you — you, leaned forward, fingers curled around the delicate stem of your wine glass; Tengen, leaned back in his upholstered chair, his elbow perched on its back and his ankle resting on his opposite knee — and not think you were a beautiful couple in a room full of other beautiful couples, enjoying a luxurious night out.

You’ve dressed up too, even going so far as to carefully apply concealer to the dark circles that have imprinted themselves beneath your eyes over the last few days. You came here in the same car, for old time’s sake. Tengen opened doors for you at all the right times, and even pulled out the chair for you, like the perfect gentleman he is.

But the moment the check is signed and the bill is paid, the moment you step foot outside this last sanctuary and into the new world, Tengen will hail you a cab. Once he’s ensured you’re safely tucked into the backseat and your driver has the right address, he will close the door and send you off. He will take a different cab.

And then, you will go your separate ways.

Tengen, to the hotel he’s been living out of for the last few days, his new lease not due to kick in until next week.

And you? You will return to the apartment you once shared together, and you will try not to linger too long on the pile of boxes by the front door. The ones all marked with his scraggly handwriting — clothes, books, jewelry.

But right now, the two of you are here; now, dressed in your nightly best and sharing a bottle of wine. It’s no wonder your waitress cheerfully asks what special occasion you happen to be celebrating. Maybe her face falls when neither of you bother to answer, instead sharing only a single, glance as comforting as it is wistful, but you make an effort not to notice. Because this dinner has nothing to do with celebration.

It seems only fitting that this be the place to eulogize the love that bloomed over cheaper wine and appetizer plates ordered in lieu of entrees; to mark the end of that wonderful beginning.

A last rite.

You focus on your half-filled wine glass; pretend that your attention is drawn only to the swirl of maroon liquid and not the persistent burn in your eyes.

The merlot sliding down your throat is dry enough to make you wince, but that’s exactly why you like it. Its sharpness keeps you alert just as much as it prevents you from plowing through it too quickly. The easier wine goes down means the easier it is for you to get drunk, and now is not the time. You’ll save that for later, when it’s just you in the apartment and the low sound of the television you’ll leave on just to keep your loneliness at bay.

Tengen had tried to order you a bottle of red moscato when you arrived, the very wine you’d ordered that first date. It was a nice gesture; proof that he’d known you, at least, once upon a time.

But, as you’d gently corrected him before the unwitting server, you drink Merlot, now.

He hadn’t been mad; he’d only offered you a wistful smile, his eyes crinkling with knowledge of the unspoken weight your words carried.

Your tastes have changed since then; both of yours have.

Nothing to be done about it, of course. It’s the risk every couple who decides to fall in love must take, and there are only two outcomes. It just so happens your luck of the draw is the one that doesn’t involve aisle trips and flowers and I dos. Instead, it comes to a close with a funeral for the love the two of you undoubtedly share, but is no longer enough to keep your unit alive.

There’s still a great deal of love between you, of course, and in an ideal world, that would be enough. If love truly conquered all, then this rift between you would have never morphed into the mortal wound that’s brought you both to death’s door. There never would have been a rift, to begin with. Love would have healed all the things that made it grow — like your impatience with his overly guarded nature, or his frustration over your inability to understand there were just some things he couldn’t share with you. Couldn’t share with anyone.

If love had been enough to heal those scabs, then they never would have blistered in the first place. Better to celebrate the natural end of things instead of waiting until it festers into resentment. You couldn’t bear his hatred anymore than he could yours.

You think back to the night it all ended; he’d been the one to reach for you after your tearful admission that this wasn’t working anymore, and it hadn’t for a long time. He hadn’t tried to change your mind, and you hadn’t tried to convince him to; instead, Tengen only held you close, his tears dampening your hairline while yours soaked his shirt.

Does he dread the end of dinner as much as you do? He must, if he’s wearing that suit while looking at you the way he is: with a gentle, closed lip smile and eyes hungrily searching every detail of your face, committing you to memory along with every other facet of your relationship. After all, you’re doing the same thing to him, just over the rim of your glass.

It is one thing to know, deep in your heart, that this step is the right one, but it is quite another to take it. Disentangling your roots from the person you’ve spent the last few years building your life around suddenly seems all the more difficult.

And yet, his boxes are packed. You’ve already moved your pillows to the center of the bed, filled the empty space in your closet with sweaters you used to fold.

Letting go isn’t the hard part; you’d accepted that was necessary a long time ago. It’s knowing you now have to figure out how to live without that piece of you, that has your chest splintering.

Tengen’s gaze tightens as he notes the ways your eyes glisten not from the soft candlelight, but from the tears you no longer can hold back.

“It’ll be all right,” he murmurs in that wonderfully reassuring way that only makes the lump in your throat grow larger. “No more crying, beautiful.”

He lays his arm atop the white tablecloth and turns his palm up. His fingers are loose, but they’re curled toward you, beckoning for you to indulge him, one last time.

Your eyes dart between his hand and his apologetic smile. How he thinks he has anything to apologize is beyond you; neither of you are responsible for this death. It just simply is.

Still, his touch and all its comfort will only be familiar a little while longer. You might as well savor it before he becomes a stranger again.

So, with a watery smile, you set your wine glass down.

And you place your hand in his.