#that was five days ago. they have not checked in at all
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anachronismstellar ¡ 2 days ago
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I have no other excuse for this besides:
1) Italian YQY is funny as hell and
2) I need to practice some of my Italian or I'll forget everything I've seen in college lmao
So why not enjoy the brainrot? :D
Prompted by this amazing post by @artsarasp and @vodkassassin
TW: Old Master Place being Old Master Palace
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Yue Qingyuan was a politician true and through, capable of mediating difficult groups of egotistical individuals, his presence imposing enough to demand respect. But there was something about Huan Hua’s Old Palace Master that brought forward his street-smart instincts, a sleaziness that made his teeth ache and the hair on the back of his neck raise up. It was so bad that he had to concentrate on circulating his qi to not lose his mind. Or his patience.
Because if there was one thing that Yue Qingyuan could call himself was patient. But every man had their limits, and Yue Qingyuan was reaching his.
"Besides, you will understand with time, young Sect Leader Yue, these types of border negotiations must be dealt with utmost care. Oh back in my day when-"
And on and on the Old Palace Master went, his voice gritting on Yue Qingyan’s years.
They had been fighting over the border issue for the past five days. It was supposed to be simple, a matter to be solved between head disciples at most, nothing that a simple correction of maps wouldn't solve.
And all this due to a river Huan Hua palace had diverted themselves resulting on them pushing back their own territory. An action they have done without consulting their own maps, creating this entire situation without Cang Qiong Sect knowledge of it, only to whine and complain right after.
This was pointless. A waste of time. He could have been having tea with Xiao Jiu right now or reading the last pile of paperwork Shang-shidi had left on his table. Five days ago. Heavens, he would rather go back to the Ling Xi caves and lock himself there for a month than listen to another hour of this nonsense.
Their departure had already been rescheduled two times. It had gotten to the point which Shang Qinghua had panicked after sending the third bird, arriving at the Huan Hua Palace the day before by sword flying.
He could feel Wei Qingwei stealing glances at him on his right, eyebrows slightly raised, clenching his hands over crossed arms. On his left, Shang Qinghua wasn't fairing any better by the soft vibration coming from under the desk, leg shaking in an anxious tick.
"- And then your Shizun, young Sect Leader Yue, personally had gone there to check it! I remember as if it were yesterday! Oh how beautiful she was, your Peak colors suited her very well! And the nape of her neck, as gracious as a swan-"
Yue Qingyuan had enough.
"Stronzo, porco di merda," Yue Qingyuan let it slip through his clenched teeth, Xuan Su warming up to dangerous levels against his waist. "Testa di cazzo, figlio di puttana," he closed his eyes, doing his best to breathe through his nose, letting it go through his mouth. Even so, not even Wei Qingwei polite cough or Shang Qinghua's squeak was enough to snap him out of the pure wave of rage coming straight from his core.
He had kept himself quiet for far too long if that insolent decrepit man had the audacity to mention his Shizun as if he hadn't acted like a dog in heat every time he wormed himself close to her. Each praise felt dirty, as if the Old Palace Master were dragging tar all over his Shizun's image, perverting her beauty with a sickening smile. Yue Qingyuan could almost see the droll dripping from the scum's mouth.
"Mortacci tua!" he said with a slap on the table, shoulders hunched as he bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood.
"Zhangmen-shixiong-" Wei Qingwei gently took him by his arm, trying to calm him down, his qi rattling Xuan Su to the point of the sword start buzzing inside its sheath.
"What is the meaning of this?" the Old Palace Master demanded with a frown, lips pulled downwards, nasty friendly aura completely forgotten. "Explain yourself! Does Young Sect Leader Yue intent to curse this Master?!"
"Sei proprio un rattuso che dovrebbe andare a farsi nel culo," he said with a smile, ignoring how every single person in the room had their hands on their swords, or how Wei Qingwei seemed to be doing his best (and failing) at holding back his laughter.
Not only curse you, you fucking pervert but also your entire family and ancestors, piece of shi-
"Aiyaaa! Forgive us, Old Master," Shang Qinghua said as he squeezed Yue Qingyuan arm hard enough to make for him to wince. "This lord fears that Zhangmen-shixiong might be going through some type of qi deviation!" and in a proper Shang Qinghua fashion he started to whine, fat tears already gathering at the corner of his eyes. "This lord humbly requests a break so a doctor might check on Sect Leader Yue! This one has never seen him so distressed, please Old Master-"
Yue Qingyuan didn't even have time to blink before Shang Qinghua took him away from the room, screaming for a doctor, not bothering to wait for the Old Palace Master's permission to leave with Wei Qingwei hot on their heels.
"What was that?!" And he knew he had messed up if Shang Qinghua was angry enough to hiss at him. "Yue-shixiong, have you lost your mind?! What if someone could understand what you said-!"
"I did," Wei Qingwei said with a snort, patting Yue Qingyuan on the shoulder, beaming like a proud big brother. "It was amazing and well deserved. That old sac-"
"Shh!" Shang Qinghua hurried to slap both hands over Wei-shidi's mouth, trembling all over. "Have you both lost your minds?! This place ears have ears, so kindly please shut the fuck up. Both of you," and then he threw a glare at Yue Qingyuan so heated it made him turn his face away from his shidi.
"Here is what we are going to do," he said after pulling a face, cleaning his hand over his robes while Wei Qingwei gave him a smug smile. "We are going to take Yue-shixiong to the doctor, and you are going to do your best to pretend to be really sick, do you hear me, Shixiong?"
Yue Qingyuan didn't want to, it felt wrong to pretend to be weak at the heart of their allies/enemies palace, but he trusted Shang Qinghua. He could see by the glint of his eye that he had already though of plan and a contingency one in case the first failed.
"And you," Shang Qinghua turned his glare at Wei Qingwei, lips pulled in an almost snarl, squinting at Wei-shidi while pointing his finger at the swordsman. "You are going to keep your big mouth shut if you want get any closer to a certain sword, do you hear me?!"
Yue Qingyuan wasn't stupid or frigid as bad tongues might say. He knew very well what Shang-shidi was insinuating, so he did his best to stare at the ceiling, doing his best to ignore the way Wei-shidi was almost giggling at Shang Qinghua.
"Of course, shidi~"
It could have gone worse, Yue Qingyuan though to himself as Shang Qinghua dragged him all the way to the medical wing of Huan Hua Palace. It could have gone way worse. Thank Heavens he had requested Wei-shidi to accompany him instead of Xiao Jiu. That would have ended up with the Old Master Palace with a dagger on his throat for sure.
And it would be well deserved. Porco matusa.
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YQY: *can't hold together anymore* SQH: SHIXIONG NO- WQW: GO SHIXIONG!! GO APESHIT GOOO!!!
this was so SO fun ashdfuahsdufahsudf and yes I've sprinkled a little bit of 12/12 SQH over it, I couldn't help it ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
I Airplane this so hard I didn't check what we know about YQY's Shizun but she is a boss woman now. An awesome lady because I said so lol
Now, to the Italian part,,,, I haven't studied Italian since?? 2019?? I'm very very rusty, and these are mostly curse words but please let me know if I said something weird OTZ
Stronzo: Shit, in this case "you piece of shit"
porco di merda: porco means pig, di merda means shitty, together it becomes shitty pig or fucking pig
Testa di cazzo: dickhead :D
Figlio di puttana: son of a bitch/son of a whore
Mortacci tua: .... This is a tricky one! From my sources (aka my Italian speaking friend) it's like YQY was cursing OMP entire family, including his ancestors in a really reaaaally rude way.
Sei proprio un rattuso che dovrebbe andare a farsi nel culo: "you are a real pervert old man and you should kindly go fuck yourself" we love a really passive agressive sect leader Xiao Jiu would be proud
porco matusa: again, porco means pig, and matusa comes from Methuselah which is the oooooold dude from the bible. idk if this one is right, but I wanted to call OPM an old pig lol
I hope you guys had as much fun as I did writing this and searching for Italian cuss words :D
And Long Live Italian YQY, may he finally go off and bite many people's heads like he deserves
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xoxo-author ¡ 1 day ago
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My Salesman
Pairing: Salesman x reader
Warnings: my shitty writing, language, mentions of violence, probably so many errors
Side note: Does anyone know the salesman name in the show or do we really only know him as the salesman? Doesn’t bother me one bit either way 😉
Don’t be nasty! Please don’t copy my work!
Does the story make sense? No. Has it been living in my head since season 2 came out? Yes. Have I thought about the salesman at least 7 days a week since season 2 came out? Also yes.
Enjoy!
Credit to gif owner
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I let out a long sigh, "Can you please watch where you're going?"
"Holy shit, I found you!"
My head snaps up, confusion written all over my face. Jin, who I haven't seen in almost two years and who was a family friend, stands in front of me with wide eyes. My confusion only grows deeper as he wraps his arms around me tightly, brings me to his chest, and lifts me off the ground causing me to tense. 
He sets me back on the ground before pushing me to arms length with his hands on my shoulders, "Do you know how long I've been looking for you?"
"Looking for me?"
"You've been missing for three years!" 
"Missing?"
He nods, "You fell off the face of the earth and no one has heard from you since. Do you know how worried we all were?"
I shake my head, trying to shrug off his hands, "I'm not missing Jin."
Jin looks at me as if I was crazy, "You're not missing? Do you think we're all going to believe that you went away on your own? No, your dad was right to report you missing."
My dad? What the hell did he do now? "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Three years ago you vanished without a trace, no one hears from you or knows where you are. Your dad comes into the station and reports you missing."
"You're telling me, my father reported me missing to the cops?"
Jin nods, letting his hands fall from my shoulders down to my forearms, "He was so distraught, he was talking about how you guys were in the train station when a man in a grey suit with a briefcase who was tall approached him and asked him to play a game for money and when your dad refused, the man took you instead."
It doesn't necessarily shock me that my father would lie to the police, he was nothing more than a crook but to know that he reported me missing when it was his fault that I've been gone for three years is mind-blowing. 
"We sent out search parties, hung fliers, posted reward money for your return or any information on you or the man in the grey suit, we sent bolos to other cities and nearby countries, we checked surveillance tapes and everything came back with nothing."
I tilt my head to the side, "What do you mean surveillance tapes came back with nothing?"
I know for a fact that there were so many cameras in the station that one of them was bound to have caught my dad just hand me over to the grey suit guy. Granted I went willingly but still.
"The cameras were down the day you went missing."
I shake my head, of course they were. While my father is a complete sleazeball, he's a smart sleazeball who would cover all his bases. 
"Your case went cold until about two and a half years ago. We had a guy come in claiming he was taken to this island where there were four hundred and fifty-five other people there who owed money to someone or something. These people could play a couple of games and win money but if you lost a game you would be killed so there could only be one winner and this man claimed to be the winner. We thought he was complete batshit until he mentioned that he was approached by a tall man who wore a grey suit that had a briefcase who asked him if he wanted to play a game."
My father came home roaring drunk one night talking about how he was approached by someone in the station asking if he wanted to play a game for money and how he wanted the entire briefcase but the man wouldn't give it up so my father offered him something for the money in the case. That something was me. My father traded his own daughter for money.
When I found out, I was livid but then I realized it would be my only way out and away from him. 
We went to the station that same night and the man in the suit still stood there, seemingly waiting for my father to return. I suppose I should've beenfrightened at the fact that my father sold me to a stranger but I felt the complete opposite. Maybe it was the fact that he was dressed as an everyday salesman. I was calm as I stood by the man's side and watched my father walk away with the money. 
There was a small part of me that expected the man to let me go but he did not. I've been with him the past three years and I can say they've been the best three years. Yeah, he was completely batshit crazy. I mean he sent people to games where they were more than likely not coming back and he may have killed people (not quite positive on that one but he did come home with blood on his clothes and face so using context clues) but I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. I don't see the entire crazy side, I mostly only see the "normal" side. 
That's probably the daddy issues talking but that's a problem for another day. 
Letting out a sigh, I manage to tug one of my arms free, "Jin, as you can see, I am completely fine. I am unharmed and not missing. You can tell people I am fine but please don't tell them where I am."
His eyes go even wider, "You're coming home with me. I just told you that your father has been worried sick about you for the past three years and yet you don't want to come home or let me tell him where you are?"
If only he knew the truth about my father, although that might not matter as Jin has always tried, for some reason, to get on my father's good side. I knew of his crush on me since forever so I am sure that is his driving factor for wanting to be on my father's good side. 
Jin looks down as I try to tug my other hand free, his grip only getting tighter, "What's on your finger? Did you marry your kidnapper?"
It was about a year and a half when we got married. I fell for the "normal" side. Again, thank you daddy issues. 
Jin begins to tug on my arm, "You're coming home and that's the end of it. You and I will get married, your father will be happy, and you'll be home. Everything will go back to normal."
As I use my free hand to tug at his iron-like fist around my forearm, I manage to look at the time on his watch. My head shoots up, eyes frantically glancing over the different faces in the park in search of a certain man who doesn't like when his things are touched. 
Giving my forearm another tug, Jin starts trying to pull me in the opposite direction of where I was headed. 
"Jin, you need to let go of me right now."
A throat clearing behind me made Jin stop in his tracks, his head turning back to look at me. Or rather who was behind me.
I knew who it was without even having to look. 
"Who's this?"
My body tilts to the side a little while my head turns up, "A friend from home."
Returning my attention to Jin, I tug my arm again, "Jin, let go and go back home."
Jin's eyes seemingly trace every inch of the infamous man in the grey suit (although he had on black pants and a white button-up today), "Is this your kidnapper?"
Jins grip on my forearm tightens causing me to suck in a breath and as soon as the words, "Jin you're hurting me" came out of my mouth, my view was obstructed by a stretched-out (rather stretched due to broad shoulders) white button-up. 
"I believe my wife has told you that you are hurting her so it's in your best interest if you let go."
Jin's grip falters for a moment before going back to gripping my forearm, "I'm taking her back to where she belongs."
The man in front of me chuckles and I knew it was game over. 
"I don't like it when people touch what belongs to me."
I couldn't see anything but I could hear and what I heard was a fist connecting to face, more specifically a fist breaking a bone. 
Jin immediately let go of my arm, letting me move out from behind my shield who had his head tilted and his signature smirk. I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was in crazy mode. 
My salesman looks down at me, eyes quickly giving me a once over only to narrow when he sees my now see-through sundress. His eyes snaps back to Jin, who looked like he was about to shit his pants, "Not only was it enough to hurt my wife but you wanted to see what I get to have every night? Did you purposefully make her spill the drinks on herself?"
I quickly place myself in front of him, one of my hands going to his chest while the other goes to the side of his neck. Over the past three years, I've learned that skin-to-skin contact seems to help pull him out of the I'm a killer phase. "Look at me... Look at me, please...I want to go home."
His gaze snaps to mine and I give him a little smile, "Take me home?"
I could feel him relax a little before he reached up and takes hold of my hand that was on his chest. He shoots Jin a look that would for sure kill him if looks could kill and turn on his heels, pulling me in the direction of our home. 
I don't bother turning around to look at Jin.
"What was his favorite game to play as a child?"
My salesman was already looking at me when I looked up at him. 
"If you don't tell me, I'll have to pick my favorite and we both know which one that’ll be”
🔫🔫
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marvelwitchergilmore ¡ 5 hours ago
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Chasing The Calm
Summary: Tyler Owens x fe!Reader -> A moment of peace for you and Tyler in between the chases.
Disclaimer: Mostly a fluffy short, tornado wrangler family, dog adoption, relaxing on the porch vibes, etc.
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You’d both had a long day. 
You’d been storm chasing with Tyler for almost five years. It had started out as a favour – you had a break off work for a few weeks in the summer and he needed a data reader. So, after some persuading, you agreed. 
And you’d been chasing ever since. 
The day’s chasing started at five in the morning. Lily had set an alert on her phone which meant any tornados worth chasing for footage would be sent directly to her phone. Even if that meant getting your asses into gear to drive into the middle of an unused field. 
Finally, around three p.m, Tyler had called a break for everyone. Boone was starting to lose energy and the others were ready for food and an early night. And since strolling back into your shared home, you and Tyler had been laying on the porch swing watching the sun slowly set across the acres of land. 
Not too long after Tyler had helped you up before slotting you in between his legs, the Wrangler rescue came and slotted herself in the small gap left by yours and Tyler’s legs as you lay on him. 
Every now and again you could hear Dexter making tea in the kitchen. The kettle whistled for a few seconds before he pulled it from the stove. 
Tyler’s heartbeat was steady in his chest as he lightly drew his fingers up and down your back, his eyes looking across the fields at the golden hue that had been cast across the wheat. 
Compared to the humidity and winds you’d all been experiencing since five a.m, the soft breeze that blew through the porch and across both of you was a kind welcome. 
From the other end of the porch swing, Hay-Bail shifted her position before sighing as she lay back down. 
You’d found Hay-Bail almost two years ago. 
A tornado had ripped through a small town, but not before hitting one of the local farms. Its wind had sent plenty of hay bails flying through the air, one landing by Tyler’s truck. You’d all spent close to two hours helping out where you could before leaving and getting cleaned up yourselves. 
Only, as you stood by Tyler, you heard a small whimper. At first, you thought your ears had tricked you. But once Dexter and Lily had pulled away in their cars, along with Dani, Javi, Kate and Boone, you heard it again. 
“Ty, wait.”
Tyler watched you as you slowly crouched towards the hay bail and for a moment he wondered what you were doing. Then he heard it himself. 
Hurrying forward, you’d looked all around it. From under Tyler’s truck to the stay piles on the ground. But nothing. Till you looked inside the bail of hay. 
With straw scratched away, a puppy no older than two months emerged. Covered in hay, the poor thing wouldn’t stop shaking. 
“Hey, hey, come here. Oh, Ty, she’s shaking like a leaf.”
Holding her carefully in your arms, Tyler checked her over. She wasn’t bleeding, but she was shaking. “She must have hid when the tornado came.”
“Tyler, her heart’s racing.”
Holding her carefully against your chest, you petted and soothed her head. 
“There should be an emergency vet a town over. Come on.”
And so you were off. Three and a half hours later, the puppy had been checked out at the vet. You’d helped calm her, but she was calmest against Tyler. Namely, whilst she was trying to climb into one of his shirt pockets. 
The vet had also informed both you and Tyler that the farmer she belonged to said to keep her. He’d been trying to sell his puppies for months and she was the last one. He didn’t even know she’d gotten out of her pen until the vet called. 
If you and Tyler didn’t take her home, she would have been abandoned. And neither of you could have that. Plus, she seemed rather taken with Tyler. 
From that day on, Hay-Bail became a certified member of the Tornado Wrangler family. You’d been meaning to give her an actual name but until you found one, she was just known as Hay-Bail and it stuck. But it suited her. To this day, if she was ever missing, she was in the shed playing in the hay. 
As your eyes took in the landscape around you, you smiled in contentment. 
You loved your job, you loved that you got to go out almost every day and chase. That almost every day, you lived in the moment and got to capture memories to last a lifetime. 
But you also loved moments like this. 
Laying with Tyler, and Hay-Bail, just listening to the sounds of the house and the surrounding fields. All the while, the sun slowly started to make its descent so the moon could rise up into its place. 
It was in moments like this you were glad you accepted Tyler’s offer to join him for the summer all those years ago. 
You and Tyler had met in college on the same course. You’d never really been close, but you’d done plenty of late night study sessions in the library together, testing each other on the facts in order to be prepared for the next pop quiz your professor decided to throw at you. 
After college, you’d both taken widely different routes, though you still kept in touch. Every now and again, Tyler would send you a storm article or if he was in town, you’d meet up for coffee. 
And whilst Tyler had found fame and success in Tornado chasing, you’d become a community college science teacher. You had enjoyed it for a while, but being in the field, chasing tornadoes, collecting the data, teaching others about the weather as well as the science behind it…that was your calling. 
But, just as you got settled into your new career and life with the Tornado Wranglers, another change was made eighteen months later when you and Tyler started dating. 
It took you both a while to figure it out considering you’d been friends for a long time and you’d be working together for the foreseeable future. But after a long talk from Dexter and a quick anecdote from Boone, Tyler and yourself had come to a conclusion. 
Whatever was going to happen, would happen. But it would be better together than apart. 
From his chest, you looked up at him and he immediately looked back, the same soft smile on his face. 
Leaning up, you kissed him and he kissed back lightly as his hand came to the back of your head. 
Neither of you had to say anything, because it was all said in the kiss. 
You lay back down as Tyler’s fingers started to brush through your hair. However, just as you both started to doze off, an alert came through on your phone. 
Reaching into your back pocket, Tyler pulled your phone out for you and handed it to you. 
Gently taking it from him, you pressed the power button and you read the alert. 
“There’s a storm North-East of us; numbers are looking good. Looks like it’s gonna be heading…” You flipped your phone. “West. Not much there other than wind turbines and overgrown pasture.”
Tyler smiled as he watched you and when you looked back at him, neither of you had to say anything. You’d be chasing it. 
“Hey! Guys! I think I’ve got one!” Lily yelled from somewhere inside the house. 
Kneeling up, Tyler sat up underneath you before you both jumped onto your feet and slipped your shoes back on. Hay-Bail was already up and following Tyler into the barn to collect Kate and Javi. 
Within minutes, everyone was in a vehicle and were driving North-East and into another tornado. 
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thepalehorsevictoria ¡ 9 hours ago
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WIP - The Internship
An EmmRook gift for @emmg who has told me in no uncertain terms that I needed to write this idea out. Behold. A Silicon Valley AU. ETA: I tacked on some more to this and made it chapter 1 on AO3.
“Good morning! Welcome to your first day at Volkoss Systems! We’re so honored to have you join us as a small step of what we are sure are very bright futures in tech. My name is Bellara Lutare and I started in the exact same place as you three years ago, so I’m happy to answer any and all questions you may have in your internship orientation.” 
She holds up her access badge, smiling just like her photo. “Please be sure you have your badge visible on you at all times for security purposes,” and the badge snaps back to the reel when she releases it. Her left arm is covered in an intricate full sleeve tattoo of circles and glyphs and rings, now waving the group of students down the hallway for the office tour.
Iris swirls her iced coffee in its plastic cup and takes a long sip. It is too early for her to be functional, and the orientation leader’s effervescence is too much to handle right now. All she wants to do is get assigned a space, get a laptop, take a branch, write some code, check it, merge and go back home to sleep. Even her new badge photo shows that she is not really keen on being here, the half-smile as the bare minimum. Fucking photographer telling her to smile and shit. She’s going to get a badge reel as soon as she can so that she doesn’t have to see her own face looking up at her from around her neck. 
But if she wants the cushy work from home developer jobs she’s been dreaming of so she can work from some sunny poolside in Cumberland or whatever, she has to do this, which is … fine. She’ll do it. 
It’s going to be a long twelve weeks of summer, though. 
/. /. /.
“Pah. Like rats in a maze. They won’t know what they’re in for,” she cackles while thumbing the chunky acrylic pieces of her ostentatious statement necklace. 
“If you’re quite finished looking down on our prospective employees, Johanna, we haven’t quite finished solving this problem.” Emmrich sighs and absentmindedly runs his hand over the stack of bracelets on his left arm. Staring at the equation on the frosted glass whiteboard isn’t helping them either. The algorithm needs updates to reduce its computational needs in order to work properly with the new advancements in Evanuris hardware. “Or, at least, if you insist on continuing, perhaps you could do so in the comfort of your office down the hall.”
Thank goodness the architect put the boardroom in between their offices. And well away from the main floor so the company can’t hear her spirited opinions on a daily basis.
“You’re wasting your time, Volkarin. Evanuris is on its way out and we all know it. They know it. We really should be courting the AI being worked on in Seheron.” 
“That would require a complete reorganization of Engineering and Operations.” 
“And it’s about time. We are more than your algorithm.” 
“That algorithm has sent all your children to very fine schools, Johanna. Like the ones that sent us the interns you’re fond of mocking and tormenting,” he shakes his head, getting up from his perch on the back of the couch. “It’s a wonder we were able to get any interns at all this year, no thanks to you.”
“They’re just cheap labor. Barely worth the time for much we have to explain things to them like they’re five.”
Emmrich bristles. “I’ll …” he sighs, “I’ll keep working on this. But meantime if you’ll please excuse me. I've asked Bellara to include my office as part of the tour so I may greet them.” He caps the dry erase marker and puts it on the bottom tray of the whiteboard while his partner scoffs and grumbles on her way out.
He can’t quite understand what he’s missing. His life’s work is laid out before him in the exquisite universal language of mathematics that he had been able to bend to his command for decades. But something seems to be missing. 
Three knocks shake him from his thought work, and Emmrich reminds himself that he asked for this interruption. Plus it’s not like he was being productive, anyway. “Please come in,” he idly twists at the filigreed ring on his thumb, and prepares a well-rehearsed smile. 
“And now I’d like to introduce you to one of the two halves of our founding, Dr. Emmrich Volkarin,” Bellara opens the door to his office and walks in backwards to shepherd a group of students. Their eyes widen at the wall of accolades, framed feature articles, and the iridescent crystal disc of his famed Order of the Nevarran Kingdom. It makes him stand just a little bit taller to watch them stunned. 
Goodness, they’re all so young, he observes.
“Hello, and welcome. I’m so glad you’re able to join us this summer, everyone,” Emmrich greets them. “Volkoss Systems is only made possible by the true collaborative spirit of science that has been the same foundation of your education, I’m certain, and we are honored to welcome your brilliant young minds and energy to our work.” Bellara is beaming at him, ever the biggest fan of his work, but the rest of the students look intimidated. 
He presses his hands together and gestures with them, bracelets jingling softly. “Please, I absolutely encourage you to share your whole selves with us, and bring your curiosity and questions. While I do unfortunately have some very busy days every once in a while, when I am not in those, my door is always open.”
“Right,” Bellara says, “We’ve got just a few more stops on this part of the tour and then we’ll get you to Hardware and Ergonomics for setup. Thanks for your time, Doctor Volkarin!” The gaggle of interns turn to leave, except one. 
They’re reading the whiteboard. “What’s this?”
Bellara sticks her head back through the door. “Oh! Sorry, Doctor, we’ll just be out of your hair.” 
Emmrich holds up a hand, intrigued by their curiosity. “It’s quite alright, Ms. Lutare,” and he watches the young intern walk up to the equation he had been working on. 
They’re such a young thing–they get younger every year, he thinks. They’re at least one if not two heads shorter than him, with pointed ears peeking out of jet black hair like his was once upon a time. Their eyes are darting around the whiteboard’s neat rows of his handwriting, but he can see that they’re a delightful, rare shade of light purple. And very attractive.
His eyes fall to the badge around her neck. IRIS INGELLVAR, she/her. 
A rattle of the cup of iced coffee in her hand shakes him out of his reverie.
“I’ve been working on updating a calculation so that it can be further compressed without loss of computational power.” 
“For Evanuris,” she says, still reading. 
“Why, yes.” He’s impressed. Iris has been reading up on the company. “Is this in your field of study, Ms. Ingellvar?” 
“Eh, for fun. I’m really just here for work experience so I can fish for a code monkey job to pay the bills.” 
From the doorframe, Bellara squeaks in secondhand embarrassment, but Emmrich finds her reply refreshingly honest, and smiles. 
“Well I am glad that we have the honor of your talents for the summer, then–” he gasps as Iris wipes out an entire row of his work. “Miss–” She picks up the marker from the tray, uncaps it, and a string of characters appear in a haphazard, jagged handwriting. 
“Fixed it,” she sips her coffee and puts down the marker.  Emmrich is speechless, mouth slightly open as he reads over her work, and reads it again.
She did.
Emmrich could kiss her.
Where did that feeling come from?
22 notes ¡ View notes
sae-something ¡ 3 days ago
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Did it. Sent the text to my parents, about half an hour ago, to tell them I want to maintain the no contact now that the year I initially announced it for has passed.
Have managed to not yet check if they've read/received it. Discoverd the whatsapp function of locking (?) chats so now I can only see them if I enter a code and I don't get notifications. That's good.
Have not heard from A yet though, and that's weighing on me about just as much as the text to my parents. I sent her a long email yesterday after the online disaster session. Trying to explain my fears and worries and how I felt. Then I woke up crying this morning (great) and feeling all kinds of shit. So I sent her another short email, apologizing for my chaos and also asking (a bit indirectly but it was the best I could manage) if by any chance she has like, five minutes for a phone call today (she doesn't see clients on friday but does often, though not always, read her email).
But it's 1pm and I haven't heard from her yet so she might just not read her email at all today. Which fills me with truck loads of shame for having dared to ask her for anything. I just feel lost and broken and like... like I'm leaking. Like all the darkness is leaking out of me and I can't stop it. I feel switchy and messy and a bit out of control (yet I've been calm on the outside since I managed to stop crying about halfway through the morning - needless to say I've barely gotten any work done) (still working half days so thankfully only had to work 4 hours).
Anyway. No emotions now. Just dread in my stomach. Just flat. Just far away and disconnected. I don't know.
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justbelievinginmagic ¡ 3 days ago
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starstruck - part 1: star-crossed.
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pairing(s): yeonjun x reader, huening kai x reader, txt & reader. series summary: All you've ever known was that you were divine. A celestial gift from the Ever-Lasting Star, a fallen starling who would bring the people of Stellare Soleil together as the Ever-Radiant. But when a darkness is cast over the lands, when the Ever-Lasting Star refuses to shine and count the day's hours with its familiar tick-tocking, it is up to you to save the world... isn't it? Little did you know that on your savior journey you'd find five shining souls that seemed to have had their lives turned upside down with the silencing of the Star. Together, you fight against beasts, witches, warlocks, and curses to find your true place in the universe. glimpse: Once upon a time, six friends made a promise beneath a magical star. warnings/tags: for mature audiences! inspired by txt's star seekers universe, heavy inspiration from txt's nap of star mv + txt's the doom's night animation, fantasy au, 3rd person POV, fem!reader, use of YN, fantasy lore, heavy religious themes, unequal power dynamics, txt & yn are all children in this chapter, minor injuries, magic, healing, tantrums, kids being kids, let me know if there should be more tags! word count: 5.5k -> next chapter series masterlist
Once upon a time, there was a star.
Hanging high in the dark navy-blue blanket of a sky, it tick-tocked every day, every hour, every minute; its cogs spinning, the star turning circles and shining its radiant light over the land called Stellare Soleil. Day and night, star-rise and star-set, it was there, ever-present, ever-shing, ever-lasting.
The Ever-Lasting Star, some called it.
Now, the story that is about to be told had been told before in different ways. Its tale has been repeated over and over – like a clock chiming out every hour. Their lives will play out in the same loop no matter what universe or backdrop they may have. Lives linked together forever until the Star ceases to exist.
On the day with the shortest starlight, five souls would meet deep in a forest they had been told was forbidden, but felt a magnetic pull towards. Five children wandering from home to stumble upon one another beneath the Ever-Lasting Star. However, most storytellers get the story wrong by this point. Most don’t know the true story for they were missing a piece.
There were not five souls in the story, but six souls that met under the Ever-Lasting Star that day and spun their fate into existence.
The sixth soul was called YN.
-
The forests of Zorya were not forbidden to YN. They were sacred. For as long as she’s remembered, they called to her. After all, it was, in some ways, her first home. It was where she had been discovered, only a few cycles of the clock ago, as a babe.
Draped in starshine, kissed by the Star, she was found in a crater by the Life River beneath the Ever-Lasting Star. Star-struck eyes and the milky-scar of a kiss on her forehead, she wailed out. Her discovery was made by the Time-Keeper, an old-man who worshipped the grand star with his sect of Luminaries. They cared for it through old magic. Ceremonies and temples were erected across the land of Stellare Soleil. In his long walk of blessing and checking upon the land the Star shone over, he found her. A gift he had proclaimed to the lands – a divine droplet of the Ever-Lasting Star. A starling. As a babe, she was gifted the title that a select few had bestowed upon them: the Ever-Radiant.
Over the years, she grew up and was meticulously taught. The ways of the Ever-Radiant were surprising simple. She was told of the magic in her vitae, taught that her existence was to bring the masses together beneath the Ever-Lasting Star once more. She was their hope, their Ever-Radiant starling.
As a youngling, it was common for her to be… well, spoiled. Despite having anything her little soul desired, all she wanted was what any child wanted. Happiness. Everything. Anything. She didn’t want to sit and learn. She didn’t want to be told what to do or to eat her vegetables or to go to sleep when the Ever-Lasting Star’s softened to usher in the velveteen night or to wake when the water-colored skies of morning glowed by the Ever-Lasting Star’s radiance. While she had lived in a castle, the Grand Solarium, there was always something pulling her towards the forests like a siren’s call. Her nannies and maids had chased after her too often with cries of ‘stop’ and ‘come back’.
“Please, your Ever-Radiance,” they called as she giggled and ran through the well-tamed gardens of the Grand Solarium’s grounds. For what could they do with a spoiled Ever-Radiant. She was their guardian, their holiness. Their starling.
A celeste-guard would always sweep her up into their arms as she wiggled this way and that. “You mustn’t without a chaperone, your Ever-Radiance.” The guard would advise, guiding her back to the supervision of a nanny.
The Time-Keeper never approved of a chaperone, no matter how much she whined.
“Your youth blinds you, my Starling,” he tutted. “You’ll see when you are older.”
But today she made it. Today, she had snuck past her guards, her nannies, her Luminaries, the Time-Keeper and was wandering throughout the forests that had tempted her for years. It was cold; the harvest season was in full-swing, and her attire was not at all suited for it at all. She needed a coat made of fur not her ritual-wear. Her deep-navy dress was of a velveteen fabric, expensive and shimmering with golden stitches mimicking stars, but certainly not thick enough for the chill that danced between the trees. Her haloed headdress heavied her head this way and that, reflecting the starlight all about her like she had her own congregation of following constellations. Wiggling like a child did when uncomfortable, she whined in distress. It’s cold; her neck hurt; she wanted a blanket. She didn’t like it. She wanted aid.
There was a flicker of anxiety that crashed over her like the first chill of autumn. Making the fine hair on her arms raise and her stomach churn unpleasantly. There was no one to help her. She was all alone. Alone. It was a frightening thought. She had always had someone near her, just a call away. Her little heart burned as she tried to swallow down her discomfort. Alone… A cold sweat dripped down her forehead from the starlight beating down through the aspen trees’ fiery-orange leaves. The grand star in the sky winked at her, shining brightly.
“I’m not alone though,” she said, shading her eyes as she looked up. “Am I?”
The Ever-Lasting Star tick-tocked in response. Its cogs creaked familiarly, and she smiled.
“Are you crazy?” a voice asked.
She let out a scream, jumping as she turned to face the noise. Her hands went into little fists as she searched through the skinny aspen trees for the source. And she found it quickly. The figure wasn’t even able to hide behind the skinny white trees. It was a boy or what she thought was a boy. It was hard to tell. The youngling in front of her was wearing a scary mask, made from cardboard and hand painted to look frightening. Sharp teeth of torn paper, eye holes shadowed his real eyes, and what looked like ruby blood dripped down its boxy face. He had jumped back at her screech and clung to his home-made mask.
“Why are you wearing that?” she demanded, pointing. “Why are you out here?”
“It’s for the Shortest Day of the Star-Clock! Why are you out here?”
“Why does a mask matter for the Shortest Day?” she asked again, peering at the strange mask.
Their tones shared a childish whine; they both wanted to be deemed right.
The little Ever-Radiant looked the other up and down. The more she looked, the less frightening the mask was. Even with the paint that looked like blood dribbling down the mask’s face and the over-sized big paper-mâchéd horns, she could see that it was just a mask. Hand-made. The ‘blood’ was too orange-y like the sunset leaves on the aspen trees and the horns were just too big that they made the boy tilt on his axis. His tiny hands rose to adjust the box, holding it up to stand straight once more.
“What do you mean why?  Dressing up is the best part of the holiday.” He complained. “Where’s your mask? Why are you dressed that way?”
She couldn’t see his eyes look her up and down, but the cardboard box bounced as if he had moved his head in defiance. His questions made a flare of insecurity rise up her spine, a foreign feeling for the Ever-Radiant. Her arms crossed defensively. 
“Dressed like what? This is my finest dress,” she argued with a pout.
“It’s pretty, but it looks cold,” he said.
She looked away, her crossed arms feeling chilly. Her hands rubbed up and down them softly. The young girl was cold.
“Here,” the boy walked forward to grab her arm gently. He began to tug her further into the woods. “It’s warmer underneath the Star-Clock.”
“I kn-know that,” she replied as she stumbled over a rock. She huffed a bit as she tried to catch herself.
“But you didn’t know about wearing masks on the Shortest Day. Wait- are you… dressed up as, like, as the Star-Clock for the Shortest Day?” he eyed her tiara. “The crown looks like it’s made up of cogs and its glowing. Your dress is full of stars too.” He put the pieces together quietly, sounding like he’s pouting.
He said star-clock again… didn’t he know it was called the Ever-Lasting Star? And didn’t he know she was from it? She was the Ever-Radiant. The only Ever-Radiant of this era. Yet he was half-dragging her along like she was her aids or maids or nannies.
“I’m dressed up as monster!” he added, not giving her time to reply as he weaved in between trees. “My friends are too. We didn’t plan it! And we were catching starbugs! Want to join us?”
“F-friends?” she stuttered out. She had never met other kids her age before. Were they all like this boy?
“Yeah, they’re great! I just met them today,” he admitted, bashfully. “But they’re fun! Taehyun brought a telescope to watch the starset, and Beomgyu had the nets for catching fragles for his family, but theyre way better for starbugs.”
His rambles were cut off at the sound of children laughing.
“Look, you can see the cogs in the sky behind the clouds!” there was a voice, almost instructive in its tone, as he pointed out the inner-workings of the Ever-Lasting Star.
“Woah,” a voice murmured in awe.
“Don’t look too long; you’ll go blind,” one of them warned.
“No way, the Star-Clock wouldn’t do that!” another cried out.
Coming into a clearing within the forest, there were four other masked boys. The forest framed them in a grand circle; there was the flowing water of the Life River beside them, cutting through the aspen trees and berry bushes. There were five trailing white-stone rock paths coming together beneath the Ever-Lasting Star, forming a small circular platform of stones. There, a large-metallic tube of a telescope stood on a tripod. Three masked boys, all as short as her, huddled around the telescope. One boy was running in circles around them with a net on a stick. Flickering starbugs twinkled in the netting. 
“Hey guys!” her Monster called out. “I brought a friend with me!”
Their heads turned and she could see only their equally-handmade masks, all made of cardboard boxes in varying sizes.
“Hello!” one of the chimed excited, waving cutely at her.
He pushed his mask up over his head to reveal his face. His face was flushed-red probably from the lack of air circulation beneath the cardboard box. His hair was long, a whisp-y dark brown around his oval-face and… pointed ears? A sweet, almost ‘w’ smile was on his lips as he grinned over to her.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“Soobin,” one of the boys cried out. “You’re not supposed to take your mask off; it brings bad luck.”
The boy called Soobin made a shocked face, a soft ‘o’ of his lips and his ears trembled in alert. “Oh,” he let out a sad sound before shrugging lightly and tugging the mask back over his face.
“She isn’t wearing a mask,” one of the boys pointed out, gesturing to her with his net grandiosely. As if she was a problem!
“She’s dressed up!” her Monster cried. “She’s like a princess. A Star-Clock princess!”
“You’re very pretty,” one of the boys chimed out sweetly. 
It made the young girl shift side to side in bashfulness.
“I said that, too!” her Monster countered eagerly. It was almost like a competition. He turned and continued. “I told you that, didn’t I—uh, what’s-what’s your name?”
“That’s what I was asking,” the one they called Soobin exclaimed, abandoning the telescope to approach the duo.
The Ever-Radiant had only been called that – the Ever-Radiant. Her title was her name to everyone at the Solarium. Or her Ever-Radiance or Starling by the Time-Keeper. Never just her name. Which she did have. Everyone had a name after all, and hers had been sewn into her baby blanket that had kept her warm beneath the Ever-Lasting Star on the brightest night of the year.
“I’m YN,” she told them. Her real name was breathed out into the air for the first time, really ever.
“I’m Yeonjun,” her Monster said.
Her head turned to glance at the other, her tiara sent flurries of sparkling rainbows casting over them in a constellation of light flares.
“Soobin,” the one in the blue painted card-board mask. His mask had equally gruesome marks. But with pretty aspen-leaves acting as ears, there was a softer element to his; glitter was painted in long stripes over the face, too.
“I’m Taehyun,” the one holding onto the telescope greeted, timidly. He shifted this way and that on his feet, shyly. His cardboard box was taller than the others and more often than not his little hands rose to keep it steady on his head.
“I’m Kai!” It was a boy in an olive-green cardboard mask and fabric wings. His mask didn’t look as frightening as the others. There were almost dopey-looking tubes making up his eye holes. He waved excitedly.
The last boy to answer was the one who pointed at her with his net. His mask was a reddish pink with fuzzy yarn making up a head of hair on the top of the cardboard box and sharp pine needles sticking out wildly.
He waved the net in greeting. “I’m Beomgyu.”
“Hi,” she greeted again.
The six children who met beneath the Ever-Lasting Star gasped as the starshine began to set and the velvet-blue of night tumbled in a whoosh. It wasn’t slow like a sunset, instead it was almost instantaneous. Like dropping food coloring into water, the colors bloomed across the light sky in a watercolor blur.
“Woah,” Taehyun murmured out, head tilting to peer into the telescope as he stared at the flurry of colors, mixing and melting into one another before the deep blue took over. It was a beautiful sight a starset. It was always jaw-dropping. The Ever-Lasting Star beamed and sparkled, the tick tocking brought in a fresh wave of night stars, dropping down from the night sky.
YN’s dress matched the night sky in this moment, a deep velvet with perfectly placed jewels matching the constellations high above them. She knew the sky by heart. Knew the stars by heart. And of course, she knew the Ever-Lasting Star like it was part of her. She smiled, happily.
The world didn’t cool beneath the Star; it was just warm enough to be comfortable and aglow beneath the Star-Clock. It was called the warmest part of the world regardless of day or night some said. The further you traveled from its epicenter, the more cool it grew.
“It’s so pretty,” Beomgyu said in awe, spinning a bit as he looked upwards.
“Did you come out to see the starset?” Taehyun asked her as he finally pried himself away from the telescope to give Soobin a turn. The boy once more took off his mask to do so – bad luck wasn’t that real (maybe his Mama will cast a luck charm for him if he asked nicely.)
“Oh, oh,” the girl stuttered before shaking her head.
No, she had just… felt the pull of the forest. She didn’t even know it was a holiday. It wasn’t a holiday in the Solarium. The Day of Eternal Light was celebrated when the air turned hot and humid. Sometimes they’d perform a ritual during the winter – when the star burned so hot, it was icy. When the cogs would stick and make the day or night feel like forever. Their prayers, the sacrifices, the offerings – everything gave the Ever-Lasting Star strength to carry on. 
“What’re you doing out here then?” The one named Kai asked.
He was now lying on the grassy knoll beside the river. Staring up at the stars she assumed. When she hadn’t replied quick enough, his head turned on its axis and he pushed up the edge of his mask up with a fist.
His face was round with cherubic features. Flushed cheeks and pouty lips and the most blinding icy-blonde hair she had ever seen was mussed over his forehead and ears. He tilted his head like a creature would.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I wanted to be away from home.”
Kai offered her a comforting look, his lips pursing in an approving way. He nodded. Not that he was happy for her yearning to be away from home, but like it was acceptable of a reason to the six-year-old.
“Where do you live?” he asked. “I don’t like the place I live either. It’s scary.”
“Scary?” she asked, brow pursing.  
“Yeah, dark and cold – the Star doesn’t like to shine there too often.” He admitted before looking up at the Ever-Lasting Star once more. His smile was fond, at peace. The cardboard box had been half-abandoned as he gazed up, the mask fell to the ground in a clatter.
 “Kaiii,” the one with the fuzzy-yarned cardboard mask, Beomgyu, whined, wiggling his arms back and forth in a tantrum. “You can’t take your mask off! We’re going to get bad luck for sure!”
The starbugs in his net buzzed in irritation at their trap being flung this way and that. It’s almost like in that moment he remembered what he was doing and he threw his arms out. “Do you want to catch starbugs, YN?” Beomgyu cried out, waving his net wildly in excitement.
A giggle broke free from her mouth at his erratic antics as she nodded. “Sure.”
She had never caught starbugs before. She had watched them light up the woods with their gentle glow. They looked magical from her tower – even if their glow dulled when caught. Sometimes they celeste-guards captured them and use them as lantern fodder across the Solarium. She liked to let them go free – they always beamed brightest when she did. Even now, their little lights ebbed and flowed as they wriggled against the netting.
“OK, Taehyun, YN’s going to use your net,” Beomgyu told him as he ran towards the other and scooped up the net he had left near the telescope.
Taehyun nodded, his cardboard head shifting this way and that unsteadily before he plopped down besides Kai to look up at the skies.
Together, the two children ran about catching star bugs with the nets. Beomgyu was really good. He would catch any bugs that flew away from YN’s reckless swiping. It wasn’t long before he had managed to have a net full of buggies while YN hadnt caught one yet.
“How are you so good?” YN complained, pouting. It wasn’t fair. She wanted a starbug! “They keep moving!”
“It’s harder than it looks,” Soobin giggled from his spot beside the telescope. The Star-Clock glimmered down at him with a twinkle and tick-tock. He awed.
“I’m the best starbug catcher,” Beomgyu declared. “Ever!”
“I want some!” YN stomped her foot, spoiled.
“I’ve got them all,” he teased, shaking the net at her. His bugs buzzed unhappily; their lights flickering in and out.
“Stop that,” Kai insisted, glaring at the other. “You’re hurting them.”
Beomgyu stopped suddenly, holding the net still as he peered at the bugs. Their glow was dim and faint.
“Oh,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry, buggies.”
A little finger rose to caress the net as if he was petting the starbugs.
“Maybe you should let them go,” Yeonjun prompted, joining the boy and girl. “Maybe YN could catch them then. She isn’t from the forest like you.”
“None of you are, stupid village-dwellers,” Beomgyu countered but tipped his net over and the bugs scurried out in a whirl of wings and squeaking sounds. Directly into their faces.
The three squealed childishly and ducked away from the flurry of bugs. YN fell back onto her back, painfully. Giggles escaped Beomgyu; meanwhile, YN had begun to cry, frightened. Everything had been so fast, the bugs were so wild, and her back hurt, and her elbow stung. In this moment, YN wasn’t an Ever-Radiant; she was just a little girl who got scared.
“Are you crying?” Taehyun asked, leaning up from the hillside.
Her cries were loud, big teardrops dripping down her cheeks.
“Oh, c’mon,” Beomgyu crowed nearby, hands going to his hips in defiance.
“YN,” Yeonjun approached with concern. He had lifted his mask to look at her clearer. He tossed it aside, dark brown hair mussed.
Taehyun was quick to join. He looked scary, towering over her with his cardboard mask.
“You’re being a baby,” Beomgyu complained nearby.  “Big baby, big baby!”
“Stop it, Beomgyu,” Soobin scolded.
The younger went quiet, underneath his mask he frowned. Petulantly, he went back to swinging his net, childishly. His family always made fun of him when he was got startled… it was normal. Why did he get scolded here?
Taehyun and Yeonjun crowded around YN as she remained in the grass, crying. Her tears stained her blue dress, and her hands wiped at her cheeks helplessly. Taehyun was silent as he watched; stoic with his mask on. Yeonjun stared at her with deep brown eyes, his little brows crinkled in concern. His hand reached out to rub her shoulder lightly, almost nervously.
“What’s wrong?” Taehyun asked.
Yeonjun wasn’t crying and neither was Beomgyu. Why was she being so strange? Taehyun wondered.
“Is it because you didn’t catch any bugs?” Yeonjun supported.
Innocently, he wrapped her into a hug. He always felt better after hugs.
“We can catch some together,” he encouraged.
Her cries turned to sobs, the type where she couldn’t catch her breath, gasping and gulping down air. He squeezed her tighter, and Taehyun even shifted to kneel beside her.
“We can catch the star bugs together.” Taehyun echoed.
She didn’t care. She didn’t care. She was hurt, and she felt hot and stuffy in her dress and the Ever-Lasting Star was too hot. Her arm hurt. And she just felt everything so much. She clung to her new friend and hugged him tight, sniffling.
“It’s okay,” he reassured. “It’s okay, YN.”
“I hurt my arm,” she finally managed to gasp out.
“Oh,” Taehyun cried out in understanding.
The masked boy looked closer at the scrape on her arm, the sleeve of her fancy dress torn and turned ruddy from the grass and blood. It didn’t look too bad. He got scraped up all the time from playing. Taehyun took to climbing trees like mushroom-toads took to jumping across lily pads.
“I can help!” Kai chimed out, hopping up and bolting over to them. It almost looked like he was levitating he was so quick.
He shuffled past the others, shoving his shoulders in between them. YN looked up at him with watery eyes, her cheeks red and blotchy from her tears. He frowned at the sight.
“Here! I can make it better,” he reached out for her arm, holding it in between his hands. His palm covered her injury and he shut his eyes. A murmur of an incantation escaped his mouth low and eerie.
“You’re a witch?” Soobin asked, nosing his way into the circle.
Yeonjun, Taehyun, Kai, and now Soobin were crowded around the crying Ever-Radiant. Beomgyu watched from afar, raising his mask up little by little to stare after them with a pout. Jealousy burned over him in a red flare across his cheeks. Kai didn’t reply to Soobin’s question as he continued to murmur ancient sounding words. Her arm tingled warmly like she had been laying out in the starlight for too long and, when he pulled his hand away, the cut was gone.
“All better,” Kai smiled at her brightly, his eyes opening to reveal a strange glow in his blue-ish eyes.
YN awed up at him. The faint thought of ‘was he like her?’ whispered through her. He seemed magical, more magical than her. She couldn’t heal someone… at least she didn’t think she could.
“Woah,” they all chorused in surprise.
“You must be a witch!” Soobin exclaimed with a bright grin of his own.
Witch? She hadnt heard about witches… were they like Luminaries? Her tear-soaked eyes looked between Kai and Soobin.
“No,” Kai said, turning to look at Soobin surprised. He hadn’t heard of witches before. “What are those?”
“My mama is a witch; she can cast spells and do magic things like that,” Soobin argued. “I can’t, because I’m a boy but if you can maybe I can one day!”
The sweet elf-eared boy chimed out optimistically as he grinned.
Huh. YN never knew magic was something other people could do. She thought only the Time-Keeper and the Luminaries held that power, and only through the grace of the Ever-Lasting Star. Just like how she was special because of the Ever-Lasting Star. Was Kai special? Was Soobin’s family… his mother? How many people were so-called special?
Kai’s eyes slowly dulled to a normal hue, and he went to fiddle with the back of his shirt, rubbing at his neck. “Oh, I don’t know my Mama, but maybe?” he offered warmly.
YN rubbed a finger over her injury-no-more; it was tender the touch but it didn’t hurt anymore. She sniffled.
“You okay, YN?” Yeonjun asked quietly. He was still hugging her close, his hands interlocked on her shoulder
Her eyes raised from her arm to look at her first friend. Without his mask, she could see that Yeonjun had a gentle pout, a flurry of messy brown hair, and eyes that were gentle and kind as he searched her expression. She nodded slowly.
“Yeah,” she replied, her other arm raising to wipe at her overwhelmed face.
“Here, we’ll help you catch some starbugs,” Soobin offered, his hand reaching for her. “Beomgyu!”
The boy was nearby watching intently. But at Soobin’s call, he dropped his cardboard mask back over his face. 
“What?” his voice muffled by the cardboard.
“Can you teach us?” Soobin asked. “I grew up in the Valley so I know how to catch butterflies, but these bugs are tricky.”
Beomgyu shifted back and forth on his feet, staring at them. The few bugs in his net flew away without him noticing.
“Please,” Soobin added, tilting his head a bit in exasperation.
The headstrong child contemplated for a moment longer before he huffed.
“Fineee,” he complained. “C’mon, I’ll help you, YN.”
The rest of the evening was spent capturing starbugs with the help of Beomgyu. The first one she manages to capture on her own sent the young Ever-Radiant into a fit of triumphant ‘I did it, I did it’ across the clearing. She ran and ran in excited circles making her new friends chuckle. Kai joined her in the care-free circles.
The night crept further in. Owls hooted in their tree-branches. The Ever-Lasting Star glowed bright, casting a ray of light over their little spot of land as they continued to play and talk.
Beomgyu bragged about his family and their ability to live in the woods, but at a scary hoot of an owl he jumped closer to the group. Taehyun spoke of how he loved to watch the star back home, on top of his roof. Yeonjun talked about how he had a cooler mask at home made of wood. Soobin talked about his family, referring to them as his colony, and said how his mama makes dancing lights. Kai was quiet but was happy, talking about games they could play and star-bathing in the light. YN was just in awe of all the different things they said.
All she had known was her Luminaries and the Time Keeper. She knew of rituals and rules and history. Not… games and woodmaking and family. What was a family…? Did she have one? There were others who had magic and didn’t need to confine themselves to rules. They lived and did more than just sit inside a Solarium reading rituals of old. She didn’t have magic – that she knew of. She was a Starling but what did that mean other than being of the Ever-Lasting Star? Kai seemed to glow like a star too!
She was baffled and overwhelmed but also happy. She liked chasing star bugs and playing hand games and singing lullabies about stars and light and treats. YN liked having friends she decided.
“I have to get going now,” Beomgyu was the first to say. She had yet to see his face; he had kept his mask on religiously. But he had sounded sad. “My dad will wonder where the fragles are by now.”
“My mom and dad will be checking on me soon too,” Yeonjun admitted, rubbing the back of his head.
Who was her mom and dad? YN wondered. She knew the Ever-Lasting Star was her origin; was it her mom or dad?
YN frowned as the pair stood. The others muttered similar excuses. Kai remained lying on his back, fabric wings splayed out behind him.
“Can we see each other again?” she asked softly.
Kai smiled brightly turning to look at her. “I’d love to play with you guys again!”
“Yeah!” Taehyun exclaimed.
“Let’s promise to meet up again,” Yeonjun prompted, standing forward and putting his pinky finger out.
The other boys chimed out in agreement standing up and interlacing their pinkies as they stood in a circle.
“C’mon, YN,” Soobin encouraged with a nod of his head.
“Is this like those clapping games?” she asked with a confused look. She had liked those and the silly rhymes they chanted out.
“You’ve never made a pinky promise on the Star-Clock?” Beomgyu outraged.
She gave a soft shake of her head as she stood and joined the boys.
“You’re weird,” Beomgyu commented.
“Hey,” Yeonjun exclaimed. “That’s mean.”
“You interlace pinkies, and you promise whatever and it has to come true,” Taehyun explained.
“That’s magical!” she chimed.
Yeonjun nodded excitedly. She interlaced her one of her pinkies with Yeonjun and her other pinky with Beomgyu.
“Let’s meet here again! No matter what, we shall come back here to see each other.” They wished below the Ever-Lasting Star.
And then they went their separate ways.
She snuck back into the Solarium walls; her dress scuffed up with grass stains. A guard caught her easily and scolded her with a gentle “Your Ever-Radiance, we’ve been looking for you!”
Her face looked like a child’s in that moment and not an Ever-Radiant. She was rebellious, her smile mischievous as she was brought before the Time-Keeper.
It was then she saw his rage. He fumed and ranted about how she had frightened the entire sect. She was henceforth forbidden from leaving the Solarium, scolded for putting herself into danger. Even if she declared it was the Ever-Lasting Star’s will, the Time-Keeper disagreed and raised the alarm. The Ever-Radiant wasn’t to be unattended until he deemed it appropriate. It was an order from the Ever-Lasting Star. She argued but was quickly shut down and sent to her room.
“If you wish to act like a child, you shall be treated that way, Starling!” he bit out as he turned the key to her bedroom, trapping her inside.
She slammed a fist painfully against the door before huffing and turning to look at her bedroom. Its grandness and many glass-windows revealing the skies made her huff. She didn’t want to be stuck here; she wanted to be with her friends in the forests again. She shouldn’t have even left them! The Ever-Lasting Star twinkled and shined through a nearby open window. She rushed to the bay-window’s bench, a place where she’d spend time with the Star. Talking and asking questions about this ritual and that ritual. But tonight, she stared down at the whole of Stellare Soleil rather than the Ever-Lasting Star. The lands she was fated to bring together under the radiance of the Ever-Lasting Star. The deep valleys, the forbidden forests, the rolling quilt-like hills, and the nearby stacked-upon-stacked village. Where were her friends? Would she see them again? How would she if she was forbidden and locked in her tower in the grand Solarium?
Every night since that night, YN would sit there, and think the same thing. The Shortest Day of Starlight wasn’t anything remarkable. Just six children running around, playing, catching starbugs, and stargazing, but YN remembered it so fondly. It helped her throughout her lessons, her rituals, the ceremonies. She yearned to just be as free as she felt that night.
Staring up at the Ever-Lasting Star from her tower window, she’d wish and wish, her pink outstretched as if wrapping around a phantom’s phalange. I want to meet them again please. Were her friends okay? Were they happy? Did they meet up without her? Did they remember her? Did they know she wished she could keep their promise but couldn’t?  
Were they looking up at the Ever-Lasting Star, too? 
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antibayern ¡ 2 months ago
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so we move to LA. my father gets a job at the palm restaurant. my uncle junior works there who was a jehovah’s witness, believe it or not. he went from catholic to jehovah. so basically, my grandmother wanted us all to switch from catholic to jehovah, you know? meanwhile, we’re from harlem, my father’s doing coke, you know? my mother thinks she’s ann margaret, she’s teasing her hair with a bottle of vodka, you know? so dysfunctional, cross-addicted family, still cooking pasta on sundays… um, and uh, and the meatballs, they- they wind up being burnt, you know? it just got so dysfunctional. it got pretty bad
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gingerbreadmonsters ¡ 7 months ago
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[melting into goo]
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fragmentedblade ¡ 1 year ago
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I've been reading about xiangqi a bit and now I'm even more obsessed with that one video of Jing Yuan
#Obsessed with the fact they made a point of him not leaving the palace#Anyway I was rewatching this because I still find very amusing that you can see when he steals that piece from the board#Which is something that makes I think more sense considering the ways in which you can check and win in this game#It seems pretty fun actually I think I'll try. Maybe with this being different this time I'll be able to convince someone to play with me#No one wants to indulge me when it comes to chess and I don't like playing online#Hmm actually this game seems less unpleasant to play non physically based on aesthetics#With chess I always have to take out a physical board and it's sort of annoying. The pocket chess I carry around is not much better#Yes I think I'll give xiangqi a try. And look for good books about it and its evolution. I hope I find something#It's always so hard to find things worth reading about topics like these. Like with fencing. Still unsure about what I got about that#After rewatching the video again I have half a mind to make gifs to keep track of his moves. I just really find it very amusing#I love how the move and what is happening in the rest of the video work with what we see him do in the actual game#Personality wise yes but strategically#I think I actually rambled about this in a post a few days ago? Oh wait that was in my main blog I think#I don't know why I make sideblogs if I end up reblogging the posts in the main after all. I always do the same thing#I'll stop now but oh I am really so so fond of him. I think I could talk for hours haha#I talk too much#Jing Yuan#Right now it doesn't seem to appear in the general tag for me but I'll check in a bit again#I really don't know how to organise my rambles anymore with this feature#I miss the five tags thing#Now no matter how much I talk it seems the general tag will always find my posts
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wheucto ¡ 2 years ago
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i've thought that i was in the osc (as a fandom) since at least 2020 (when ii s2ep14 released) but now i realize that i remember seeing the meetup videos in 2017 and specifically that it happened to be on my birthday
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iknityounot ¡ 1 year ago
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(Long post, sorry y'all)
A little more than two years ago now, my grandmother passed away. She and my grandpa had moved down to my home town a few years before so we could take care of them. I brought them groceries once a week, helped them write checks, fixed tvs, and found lost things. I was really close with my grandma.
In addition to her hilarious personality and dry wit, one of my favorite things about her was that she was a painter and a crafter like me! She used to crochet, and I took her to the craft store a couple of times so she could get more yarn and books on crochet. But her arthritis and the shaking in her hands kept getting worse, so she eventually had to stop.
She kept her most recent project, a granny square blanket, safely packed away in a plastic bin. She told all of us she was going to finish it one day.
Her hands never got better, and when she got sick, and we found out it was cancer, she rapidly deteriorated.
After she passed, I went to work helping my mom clean out my grandparents apartment so we could move my grandpa in with her. In our frantic cleaning, I found that bin again:
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DOZENS of granny squares, dozens of half used skeins. I asked my mom what she wanted me to do with it, and she said she didn't care. I set it aside and later took it home.
Maybe a month later, that tumblr post about the Loose Ends Project was going around. It felt like a sign--I was never going to learn to crochet in order to finish my grandmother's blanket. But they might be able to help!
So I filled out the interest form. They got back to me SUPER quick. And maybe 2 weeks later, I was paired with volunteer in my state (only 2 hours away!) and the box of yarn, granny squares, and my grandmother's crochet hook were in the mail. That was at the end of January this year.
Over the next couple of months, my "finisher" emailed me regular updates on her progress, and asked me questions on my preferences for how she constructed the final blanket.
At the end of August, the blanket was done!
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I had always intended the blanket to be a gift for my mother. So I cleaned it up, put it in the only bag I had big enough to fit it, and drove to my mom's. I gave the blanket to her and she was gobsmacked. I explained to her all about Loose Ends, and how someone volunteered to finish the piece for us. She was speechless. (I was quite pleased with this, because I am not the best at giving gifts, so this was a pretty exciting reaction!)
She said that it was the most thoughtful gift she had ever been given. She said "your grandma would love this". To which I replied, "yeah, I know she really wanted to finish it a couple of years ago". But that was when my mom dropped the bomb of a century on me--she told me that my grandma had started making those granny squares OVER 30 YEARS AGO. She had started the blanket when my grandpa was staying in the hospital, but that was back when my mom was younger than I am now! My grandma had packed them all away, planning on finishing it, when my grandpa was sent home from the hospital. Then it went from house to house, from condo in Chicago to their apartment in my hometown. All that time and my grandma had wanted to finish it, but couldn't. First because she was busy, then because she forgot how to do it, then because of her arthritis, and then because of the cancer. My mom said she had given up on expecting my grandma to finish it. 
She said I brought a piece of her childhood with her mom out of the past.
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And really, all of this is to say, if you have seen or heard about the Loose Ends Project and have an uncompleted project or piece from a loved one who has passed away--these are your people. They were so kind and treated my project with such care. That box probably would have been found by my own grandkids one day if I hadn't heard about Loose Ends.
Five stars, absolutely worth it!
(From what I understand, you can sign up to volunteer too! If you have time to share, it might be worth checking out!)
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jasontoddiefor ¡ 1 year ago
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Yeah sure we’ve all binged a long fic, but have you ever read a WIP and followed someone’s life?
Tidbits of information - (“I graduated today!”) - and small joys (“It’s my birthday!”) and you get to be there to say “This chapter made me cry, happy birthday, thank you for gifting us this”.
I remember reading this fic of someone at the end of high school, older than me then. They seemed infinitely wise, spoke of their future career and getting into the college they wanted. I remember them posting on days they felt like nothing could bring them down - and on days the whole world did and it’s the aftermath of a hospital visit. Cancer, I think it was, their father. I got to the end of the story, I know their father was fine, but also they got to finish their WIP. I graduated three years later than them, still dutifully wrote thank you notes in every comment. I wonder if they remember me, or just the collective of people reading the story as it updates.
Four years ago I was into my first year of university, my first year of figuring out being out in public spaces. I made excuses as to why my name didn’t match my paperwork and read a fic on the train, the same five chapters over and over again for the next years as I thought the story abandoned. It updated this week after such a long hiatus, I left another thank you comment.
There’s an author I love, they update their stories like a clockwork. When they don’t, I check their blog, just to see if their doing alright, not because I feel like they owe me, just to ensure whether I better get out my laptop to write that really detailed university level essay chapter analysis to get them smiling when their day sucked.
And then, once, when I was 17, I read a fic that hadn’t updated in over a decade. I wasn’t even in primary school when it started posting. On the last chapter, I left a comment that, in retrospect, was horribly rambly and most likely full of grammar mistakes. The author replied and though I couldn’t see their face, I thought of them crying. They were married now, had children, and hadn’t thought about this fic in years. They went through their files again, found another half written chapter and an outline. I got two new chapters to read that year.
And then, recently, someone told me they got back into writing original fiction because of my comments. I get to read nearly weekly chapters.
I love binge reading a finished fic, but nothing is ever going to top the feeling of anticipation of waiting for a chapter, the pure joy when someone tells you I was done with this, but you made me think of it again, so this is for you.
Anyway, I think we should romanticize reading WIPs more, growing up alongside the authors writing the stories we love.
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flimsy-roost ¡ 1 year ago
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heyy is the shunting of oft-repeated tasks directly out of your short-term memory and into a mobius layer cake of every other 98% similar memory until you can't recall the specifics of your present circumstances as if momentarily time traveling against your will an adhd thing or. Am I being silly and that's an everybody thing
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whytheylosttheirminds ¡ 1 month ago
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Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 9 (part one)
(Rafe Cameron x reader series, 7k words)
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series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.
tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder
series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues
⇢ series masterlist
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All that met you when you woke was anxiety and a sharp, thumping headache. It was such a depressing paradox to the peaceful way you’d woken up in this same bed on your first morning here, a thousand fucking lifetimes ago. Your whole body ached as you sat up in bed, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin on one. 
The bed felt empty. Strange, since you hadn’t ever shared it with anyone. 
Your eyes, puffy around the edges from tears and exhaustion, scanned the dimly lit room. You were startled when you saw it - the little box of candy sitting on the dresser, unopened and completely forgotten. Even more startling was the sudden pang of craving you had for it. You pulled the covers from your legs, immediately missing their warmth, and padded quickly across the room to fetch the candy.
After adjusting the heavy curtains to block out as much of the midday sunlight as possible, you crawled back under the blankets, tearing the package open. Little crystals of sugar went flying, their unnatural dyes and chemicals surely staining the white sheets. But that was some faceless Airbnb owner’s problem.
You ate the candy fast and messy, completely indulging your childish desires and ignoring any regard for moderation or tooth enamel. Fingers sticky and jaw aching, you chewed and licked until there wasn’t a morsel of artificial sweetness left in the box. 
The candy didn’t help your headache, yet somehow it still made you feel better. A small gift on a day of mostly unpleasant surprises. Ironic, since the person you had to thank for the treat was the one who caused the tears.
You’d have to face him eventually, there was still a question to be answered. That problem was entirely your own, and one you weren’t anywhere near ready to face yet, so you sunk back down in the sheets and let the sugar crash knock you back out.
The second time you woke up, the sun was setting outside your window, your mouth dry and sour from the sugar and oversleeping. You sat up and chugged some water from the bottle you kept on the nightstand, think about how you should probably go downstairs, see what everyone’s up to, check in with Carter. Yes, that’s what you should do, so why was your body not rising from the bed?
You checked your phone: 7:12 pm. The day was basically over. In the span of it, you’d fallen in and out of love, had your heart broken, and slept for nearly twelve hours. And, as the pang in your stomach was so aptly reminding you, you hadn’t eaten anything since Rafe made you eggs so many hours ago.
Your phone screen also showed you had about ten texts from Carter, checking on you and asking if you were okay. You opened them and sent a half-hearted “I’m good. Just catching up on sleep from the crazy semester.” 
Another growl of your stomach and you opened a different app, double checking the house’s address before confirming your order of one large pizza - pepperoni and onions, extra cheese. The delivery estimate was forty-five minutes. Perfect.
You had gotten through one episode of your favorite show when the doorbell rang downstairs, just as you’d expected. A few seconds later and a knock on the door finally pulled you from the bed, your legs like jello from being dormant for so long. You threw on Topper’s U of F hoodie and padded towards the knocking.
Carter stood outside your door, your hot, steaming pizza in hand.
“Delivery,” she smiled tightly when you opened the door.
“Thank you,” you said, taking the pie and opening it to smell the treat that was awaiting you.
“Glad to see you’re not dead up here,” she joked.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m just tired.”
She didn’t buy it, you could read the concern all over her face, but there was nothing you wanted less right now than a lecture from her about everything that had happened with Rafe.
“We’re doing a whole crab boil down there, why don’t you just come down and-”
Actually, no. The last thing you wanted in the world right now was to sit across from Rafe, cracking crab shells and pretending nothing that happened had happened. You couldn’t bear to see him, not yet.
“I’m just gonna stay up here tonight, okay?” You smiled despite the questioning look she was throwing you, silently pleading with her to just drop it and let you be.
“I knew this was gonna happen,” she frowned, hands landing on her hips in an indignant pose. She clearly wasn’t going to just drop it.
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before saying “you knew what was gonna happen?”
“I knew he was gonna hurt you, and now you’re spiraling out again. God, I’m gonna kill him-”
“I’m not spiraling,” you interrupted her. “I just want some alone time. I’m having a good time actually, I’m just watching some -”
“You’re holed up in your room, just like in high school, rotting away while he’s just down there hanging out and having a good time like he did nothing wrong. So fucking typical of him. Just come downstairs, don’t let him do this to you,” the look of pity in her eyes was enough to make you sick. 
Taking a deep breath, you set the pizza down on the top of the dresser, turning back to Carter with a stoic expression.
“Car, listen to me,” you said. “He’s not ‘doing’ anything to me. This is not just like high school, because I’m not who I was in high school. I know you’re used to taking care of me, but believe it or not, in the four years we’ve lived apart, I’ve actually gotten pretty good at taking care of myself. This is not a cry for help, it’s not me isolating and spiraling. This is me taking care of myself, and it might not look like how you take care of yourself, but we’re not the same. Please just go downstairs and let me do what I need to do. I’m not a hurt little kid who needs saving, okay?”
Her brows knit tight, she scanned you from head to toe, like she could pick out any deception in your words by sight.
“Fine,” she said. “I’m glad you know what you need. But…just, don’t hide away for too long, okay?”
“I’m just gonna do what I need to do tonight, and tomorrow we can get back to our fun trip, okay?” You promised.
She thought about it for a long moment, you knew she was having trouble not asking you what had happened when you were gone this morning. The two of you hadn’t even discussed Cassie’s arrival yet, and the millions of texts from her when your phone finally turned back on told you she had plenty to say, but right now you just needed for her to say nothing. Which she must’ve understood, because she finally nodded and slipped back downstairs.
The rest of the evening was spent watching your comfort show, eating your pizza and blocking out the muffled voices of the group wafting in from the patio through your window. Cozy in the blanket of solitude you’d wrapped around yourself was enough to eventually lull you into a decently restful sleep. Curtains on today, tomorrow would be better.
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The empty mattress was cold against your reaching hand. You woke up reaching for something, you weren’t sure what, the foggy dream you’d just had slipped away with the darkness as a stripe of sunlight leaked through the blinds and right over your closed eyelids.
With a groan, you sat up. You had done the whole self-care thing, a night in, letting the emotions settle and tears dry, and as you’d promised Carter, you should probably get back to the trip.
Blinking in the bright bathroom light, you turned the faucet on and ran some cold water over your face. The chilly water waking you up, you patted dry and blinked your eyes open into the mirror.
It was immediate, the way your gaze dropped to your own neck in the reflection. Right there splattered above your collarbone- three purple splotches in the shape of Rafe’s mouth. A constellation of reminders that you’d been so close to truly being his.
You gasped, fingertips flying up to skim over the tender spots. Flashes of your time with him in the car came back to you, your legs pinned to either side of his waist and his lips pinned to your throat. A swirl of desire and regret churned in your stomach at the memory. 
By your best estimate, it had been about forty-three minutes total. Forty-three sets of sixty seconds that you’d been happy, known he was yours, kissed him and been with him and felt good about all of it. Forty-three minutes between him confessing his feelings for you and him dropping your hand in front of Cassie.
A wave of sadness crashed into you with no warning, one thought echoing in your mind, so loud and sad it robbed the air from your lungs; forty-three minutes would be all you’d ever get.
Hot tears stung your cheeks as they fell quick and heavy. You didn’t bother finishing your skincare routine, or trying to self-soothe with some kind of platitude. You'd been perfectly, blissfully happy for forty-three minutes and you’d never be that happy again. You shuffled back down the hall and into bed, stopping first to pull Topper’s hoodie back in, as if keeping the hickies out of sight might make them heal faster.
Fuck greeting the day, fuck trying to end the trip on a positive note. Grief climbed over you and pinned your limp body to the mattress, clobbering you until the tears turned to dry, ragged breaths. You pulled out your laptop and restarted your comfort show. Maybe you’d just stay here, in the darkness, until the memory of him and the marks he’d left with his lips faded in time.
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The mattress sunk with the weight of someone climbing into bed next to you. For the briefest of moments a hope that you knew was absurd flashed across your mind - maybe it was him.
“Good morning,” Carter’s voice whispered, squashing the silly thought.
You didn’t open your eyes to greet her, just readjusted in the bed to face away from her, pulling the covers higher over your chin. 
“Time to rise and shine,” she poked your side, an annoying, cutesy sing-song effect added to her voice.
“No thank you,” you grumbled into your pillow.
“Okay so get this,” she continued chipperly, ignoring your denial. “You know how Jack’s family owns like a bunch of resorts and country clubs and shit? Well they own this bougie ass golf resort in Miami and he got us in for the day so we can go golfing and to the spa with all the millionaires.”
“You hate golfing,” you pointed out.
“Yeah, but we don’t have to actually golf,” she waved off your logic. “It’s just about wearing cute outfits and looking hot on a golf cart.”
You rustled in the sheets, turning on your side to face her.
“As inviting as that sounds, I’m gonna pass,” you said, settling in to go back to sleep.
“No, no,” she reached out to pull the covers off of you, making you groan in protest. “You said you were only gonna be sad for a night, and that today we’d have fun. Well it’s today, time to stop being sad! And you like golfing, so let’s go.”
“I’m not sad,” you lied. “I’m just tired and I don’t want to go.”
“Come on, we’ve barely spent any time together and I’m leaving soon.” Ah, so she was finally pulling the guilt trip card, you wondered when she’d make that play. “Also we have a lot to talk about, we haven’t even discussed the wicked witch of the west blowing into town.”
Despite your current annoyance with her, you laughed at this, no need to clarify who she was referring to.
“It’s because I’m trying not to think about her, actually,” you said, pulling the comforter back over your shoulders. “Let me get back to my dreams where she’s far, far away in munchkin land.”
Carter tsked, pulling the covers down yet again. You shot daggers at her with your glare, the game already getting old.
She sighed, “I know Rafe dropping your hand in front of Cassie really put a damper on things, but I just really think it’s time to move -”
Your eyes narrowed, sitting up against your pillows in surprise.
“How do you know Rafe dropped my hand in front of Cassie?”
Carter’s eyes widened when she realized the slip up she’d made, suddenly lost for words, which was a rare issue for her.
“I just…we were gonna come down and then….” she stumbled over her explanation, hoping you’d allow her sentence to fizzle out, but your questioning glare didn’t give her any reprieve. 
“And then?”
“We kind of…heard you. You and Rafe when you came in from wherever you were,” she finally admitted.
Your jaw ticked, nodding without meeting her gaze, your passive aggression palpable.
“Who’s ‘we’?” You asked, avoiding her eyes and pulling back out your laptop to load up your comfort show.
“Me and Topper,” she pulled at a loose thread on your comforter. “And some of the others, but only for part of it. I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have listened, but I was worried about you.”
“How much did you hear?” You said flatly, collecting the remaining information like a medical intake form, assessing the potential damage of the mortifying story she was telling.
“Me and Topper heard, like, all of it,” she confessed. “Everyone else heard just some pieces.”
You and Carter didn’t fight, you never yelled at her, but the frustration and betrayal bubbling in your chest was threatening to end that streak. You needed a distraction or you’d lose it entirely. Hoping she’d take the hint, you pressed play on the show, shutting back down. She lingered though, pushing the conversation to the exact place you’d hoped it wouldn’t go.
“I mean what he did sucked and you should be pissed, but, you were only holding hands. At least you didn’t like hook up with him or anything. Things can just go back to the way they were before the trip. You didn’t hook up with him, right?”
“Right,” you half-lied.
Your anxiety over potentially having just decieved your sister manifested itself into the cartoonish image of a courtroom in your mind, your pencil-skirted lawyer standing between you and the judge: “your honor, the term “hook-up” could mean any number of things. If my client’s sister had wanted the whole story, she should have been more specific.” 
But you knew Carter, any version of the story that didn’t include every juicy detail may as well have been a knife in her back, she’d be pissed if she found out. Subconsciously, you adjusted the hood of your sweatshirt, pulling it higher to ensure it fully covered your neck.
She had eavesdropped, and you had lied. It would all come out in the wash. At least, that’s what you decided to tell yourself.
It didn’t matter anyway, you realized with a fresh dose of unbearable sadness, because you and Rafe would never be together like you were this morning again.
You twisted quickly in the bed, angling away from her so she didn’t see the tears welling on your lash line and turned up the volume on your show.
She stayed in the bed for a while, trying a few more times to start conversation and coax you to join them on the golf trip, but you’d perfected the art of the cold shoulder, blocking out her every attempt to get you to get out of the bed.
After maybe thirty minutes, she sighed and crawled out from under the covers, pulling out her phone as soon as she was outside your door and texting Topper: it’s worse than we thought.
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“Did you try telling her -”
“I’m telling you, I tried everything. She just shut me down. She’s really mad I think,” Carter’s face was pinched tight with worry as she whispered to Topper outside your door.
“Okay, well maybe, I dunno, you’re just not the person she wants to talk to right now…” he suggested, eager to help but hesitant to upset her any further.
“What, you think you’d fare better in there?” She snapped.
“I mean, I could try,” he shrugged.
She considered this. Maybe it would be beneficial to have a neutral party. Or maybe you’d scream at him, but either way he’d at least get more of a reaction out of you than she did, right?
“Fine, be my guest,” she motioned towards your door.
Topper knocked lightly, eliciting a delayed “um, yeah?” from your voice behind the door. He slowly opened it and slipped inside.
Only a few minutes later, he emerged from the room, his face ashen, wide eyes skittishly avoiding Carter.
“Well?” She pried.
“I don’t think I was the person she wanted to talk to either,” he said vaguely.
“Did she say anything?” She pressed.
“Oh, she said a lot of things…” he scratched the back of his neck, still not looking at her.
“Maybe she’s mad at you too, for eavesdropping,” Carter puzzled. “Maybe we need someone who didn’t hear much of their fight.”
Knocking on doors down the hallway, Carter coaxed the rest of the group, minus Cassie, Sabrina, and Rafe, who were nowhere to be found, out of their rooms and into Mission: Impossible - Get You to Leave Your Bed.
They each agreed, albeit reluctantly, to tiptoe their way into your room and try and talk you into coming out and joining the golf trip. One by one they emerged defeated. Not only had they not convinced you of anything, it seemed from Carter’s perspective that you had your own mission - to drag them all down into an existential crisis with you.
No new information to provide Carter about you, they each came out with some new insecurity that you’d talked them into.
Maddie was first, coming out with sad, round eyes and asking Carter, “do you think I’m smart enough for med school? What if I just wasted the last four years being pre-med?!”
Then Jack, who came out with his hand on his face, “do you think I should reverse my nose job? What if my face never looks normal again?”
Even Tom attempted to warm you up, telling Topper, “I think she’s right, I am only in finance to get my dad’s approval. Why doesn’t he love me for me, man?”
With each friend who returned from a conversation with you full of anguish, Carter and Topper exchanged worried looks. What exactly was going on in that bedroom? You were just one girl, one who typically wouldn’t hurt a fly, and yet this morning you’d apparently chosen violence, no one safe from your emotional carnage. 
Also with each friend who emerged defeated, Topper suggested calling in Rafe for reinforcement, only for Carter to shoot the idea down. But he’d never seen Tom spiral like this, and it was his final straw. He disappeared into his room with some excuse about needing to check on the afternoon’s tee-time.
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Rafe hadn’t run in years. At least, not like this. 
Sure, he went for a jog now and then or opted for the treadmill between leg and back day every so often, but he hadn’t done this kind of no-holds-barred, all-out-sprint since he was an athlete, and the burning in his lungs was reminding him why. 
Plus, running provided all this space for his mind to wander. When he was lifting or doing some high intensity shit, he didn’t have time to think. An open road and nothing but his own two legs? The opportunities for his brain to spiral were endless.
Still, today he kept running, the sand of the long beach kicking up with each heavy step. He’d peeled his shirt off over a mile ago, sweat pooling everywhere possible as breath became more and more illusive. He could feel the early morning sun burning the tops of his shoulders, he knew he’d pay for not wearing sunscreen later.
Every time he was tempted to stop, some invisible force nipped at his heels, propelling him forward. It felt peculiarly like nightmares he’d had as a kid, though this time it wasn’t a monster chasing him, but something much more elusive and indefinable. And he knew if he stopped, it would all catch up to him; everything he’d been trying to avoid for years. He wasn’t sure he’d survive the ambush.
Music blared through his headphones, a playlist he’d listened to so many times that he barely heard it anymore. Suddenly, the music cut, his phone buzzing against his thigh in his gym shorts pocket. 
Thankful for the excuse to slow down, he pulled out his phone to check the text, it was from Topper: dude something’s up with her, u gotta come help us. we’re trying to get her out of bed, she won’t talk to anyone. but she might talk to u
Rafe’s breathlessness suddenly had nothing to do with overworking it on the cardio. He didn’t expect you to be a ball of sunshine the day after he’d done something so stupid to you, but he didn’t understand what Topper meant by “somethings up.” The fact that he was positive he was actually the last person you’d want to talk to right now only added to his shortness of breath.
It was all wrong, none of this happened the way it was supposed to. And now he’d possibly broken you for good. Maybe it was time to pack his bags.
To add insult to injury, standing along the shoreline, only about ten feet in the distance, was the other girl who’s heart he’d broken, glowing in the sunrise and looking like a goddamn marble statue. Jesus Rafe, he thought, you really know how to lose ‘em.
He tried to duck out of sight, but she had already clocked him, standing at the edge of the water in her stylish swimsuit and wrap looking like a fucking greek goddess. She was the ideal female specimen, and yet, as he noticed with curiosity, there was nothing in him that was attracted to her. If anything, he wanted to be as far away from her as possible. But she smiled softly and raised her hand in a polite wave, and despite what you may believe now, he wasn’t a total asshole.
Giving her a small wave back, he approached the shoreline, matching her stance looking out at the water. The moment was silent and awkward for just a second, Cassie flicking her hair off her shoulder and digging her toe into the sand as Rafe searched helplessly for words.
“You look good, Cass,” is what he finally landed on.
She looked at him, shielding her eyes from the sun. He expected her to tell him he looked good too, a smile already forming on his lips as a response to her incoming compliment.
“You’re an idiot, Rafe.”
“I- wh- what the fuck?” He was so thrown he couldn’t even find words to express it.
“You were with her yesterday morning when you saw me, right? Like with her with her?” She surmised, a small upturn of her lips at his confused look.
“I’m sorry you saw that, I tried not to make it weird for you. I didn’t know you were gonna see us,” he stammered, the misplaced pity in his voice only making her laugh at him more.
“Rafe, you dumped me four years ago,” she chuckled. “Believe me when I tell you I’m over it. Also, considering the fact that you dumped me for her, I really wasn’t that surprised to see you together.”
“I didn’t break up with you for her,” he corrected, reiterating a point he’d made a thousand times, and had yet to successfully convince her of.
“Oh c’mon Rafe,” she turned towards him, hands on her hips in exasperation. “Let’s not do the whole ‘I just needed to focus on college’ thing again. We’re both adults now, can we just be honest? You dumped me because you were in love with her. And based on the look on your face yesterday before you noticed me, I’d say you still are.”
A deep crease wrinkled Rafe’s forehead as he avoided her gaze, feeling like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He actually thought he did a pretty good job keeping it from her, but apparently she’d clocked it easily, even all those years ago.
“So you knew? Like the whole time?” He mumbled.
Cassie scoffed, “I was a bitch in high school, but I wasn’t stupid.”
“You weren’t a bitch,” he tried to console her, though she didn’t need it, her easy smile making it clear she’d made her peace with this fact.
“You should ask her if she thinks I was a bitch,” she gestured up toward your bedroom window. “I think she’d agree with me, seeing as she was pretty much my main target.”
“Yeah, you could’ve been nicer to her, I guess,” he conceded.
“You could’ve too,” she pointed out.
A spark of shame flared in his gut. You had tried to tell him back then, tried to explain the ways Cassie mistreated you behind closed doors when nobody was looking, but he always brushed it off. Eager to have an excuse to avoid confronting Cassie about it, and if he was being honest, summing it up to a girl being oversensitive. God, maybe he was the bitch.
“I’m sorry if it made you feel weird yesterday, seeing us together. I was trying to get out of the moment without hurting anyone and I think I may have hurt you both,” he explained.
Cassie just shook her head with a small smile, he had grown physically since the last time she saw him, but he still had the social awareness of a seven year old.
Silently, she raised her left hand, displaying the massive emerald cut diamond on her ring finger, “I mean it when I say I’m fine, Rafe.”
His eyes widened, blinded by the diamond’s sheen in the sunlight. It must’ve been five, maybe six carats.
“Holy shit,” he grinned. “You’re, uh…”
“Getting married,” she nodded. “When I said I was over you…”
“No, yeah, message received,” he chuckled, feeling foolish.
It dawned on him slowly, the realization that seeing him with you had no impact on Cassie at all, except maybe to confirm suspicions she already had. There had been no good reason to drop your hand after all, he wasn’t sparing anyone’s feelings, he was only hurting yours. And now because of it, he may have lost you for good.
“Shit,” he groaned, his shoulders falling.
Cassie gave him a sympathetic look, reading the regret all over his face.
“Was she mad?” She clued.
“Um, yeah, more than I’ve ever seen her,” he said.
“Good. It’s about damn time,” she huffed.
Rafe’s brow furrowed in confusion, stunned by her words and apparent lack of sympathy.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He scoffed.
“She should’ve given you shit a long time ago, Rafe. She deserves to give us both a hard time actually. But now that you guys are together -”
“We’re not together,” he blurted out, surprising Cassie and himself with the statement. 
“You’ve gotta be kidding me, Rafe. You still haven’t told her how you feel? God, I swear, Cameron, you’re dumber than you look.”
“No, no, I did. I told her, I asked her to be with me. But she - then I…I think it’s too late,” he struggled with his words like he was new to the language. 
Cassie nodded, making a nearly inaudible “hmm” noise that he recognized well. It was the same noise she’d made when he talked about you back then, letting him know she clearly had more to say but was holding back.
“Say it,” he smirked at her familiar mannerism.
“Oh, nothing…”
“You’ve got no poker face, Bryant. Never have,” he jibbed.
“I just think…I don’t know,” she stalled. “It’s really not my place, and I’m definitely not going to pretend I really know her, but I don’t think you wait for someone for fifteen years just to throw in the towel over ten seconds of stupidity. Which it was, really stupid” she gave him a disapproving look, which he accepted, knowing she was right, “but still…you have your flaws, Rafe, god knows I know that. But I still think you’re the kind of guy a girl would wait for. And I think she’s the kind of girl you don’t give up on.”
Rafe took in a deep breath, his eyes grazing back over the horizon, considering her words. He couldn’t help but blush a little at the way she said he’s someone worth waiting for. It was the nicest thing anyone’s said to him in a long time. And her point about you being the kind of girl he shouldn’t give up on? That was the truest thing anyone had said in a long time.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he turned his head towards her slightly.
“What?” She rolled her eyes at his obvious amusement.
“Are you…dare I say…rooting for me and her?” He teased.
Reluctantly, she smiled back, her lips twisted into a knowing grin as she watched some jet skiers a few yards off shore. 
“Falling in love made me soft, okay?” She defended herself.
“I’m happy for you,” he told her. “I really am.”
“I’m happy for you too, Rafe,” she said earnestly. “Or I will be, when you get your head out of your ass and go up there and make things right with her.”
Nerves twisted in his stomach. He knew you didn’t want to see him, knew you’d push him away, knew he deserved it. But if he left here without trying, without fighting for you, he’d never forgive himself. 
He passed a sidelong glance at Cassie’s ring. It was strange, you all really were at the age where things like marriage and families, things like forever, were suddenly real and within reach. It should make him nervous, should make him spiral into an existential crisis and hide from commitment. But when he thought of you, it didn’t feel strange, because with you forever had always been real, and if it wasn’t meant to be, then the universe was going to have to pry it from his fucking hands.
Cassie gave him an urging look, nodding back towards the house as if to say, “it’s now or never, dude.”
He nodded, a deep breath and a thankful smile to his ex, and ran towards you.
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Yet again, your bedroom door opened with someone emerging who wasn’t you. Running out of options, Carter had sent Kelce in. Maybe he could annoy you into getting out of bed, it was worth a shot. She didn’t really expect it to work, but she definitely didn’t expect him to come back out sniffling.
“Kelce, are you crying?” She asked him, disbelief raising her voice an octave.
“When did your sister get so mean?” He asked, voice cracking.
The group tried and failed to stifle their laughter. Topper threw his arm around Kelce’s shoulder.
“Hey, hey guys we need to normalize men crying,” he scolded the group. “Even if they sound like little girls when they do it.”
Laughter echoed through the hall again, Kelce storming away indignantly, nearly bowled over by Rafe, who appeared suddenly at the top of the stairs. 
He was still shirtless, half-dried sweat making his sculpted torso glisten under the hallway’s lights. A body that made even the straight men on the second floor swoon a little.
The laughing stopped immediately at his arrival, Rafe’s sweaty, shirtless form breaking through the huddle.
“She still in there?” He asked Topper, his face serious as hell.
“Yeah man,” Topper answered.
“You’re probably the last person she wants to talk to right now, Rafe,” Carter snipped.
“Kinda looks like you are, actually,” Rafe shot back at her, gesturing to her position on the other side of the hall, making her jaw flex with the force of the scowl she aimed at him. “Give me five minutes.”
Rafe slipped through the crack in your door, shutting it firmly behind him.
“Sorry, but I thought it was time to bring in the big guns,” Topper gave Carter an apologetic smile.
“‘Big guns’ is right,” Maddie giggled, fanning herself dramatically at the memory of Rafe’s figure. “I mean, goddamn.”
Carter slumped against the wall, arms crossed, hating the whole thing, hating him.
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“Oh my god,” your heart raced at the sight of Rafe, half naked and panting, bursting into your room. You pulled the blankets higher over you, feeling suddenly exposed even though you were the fully clothed one between the two of you.
“Good morning,” He chipped, throwing your curtains open and flooding the room, making you cry out his name in protest, hiding further in your bed.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” You groaned.
“Can we talk now, please?” He asked, standing in the window, his sculpted body illuminated by the Florida sun, framed by the glinting rise and fall of the ocean in the distance. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a romance novel. It made you angry, knowing there was too much history to be able to justify getting out of bed and climbing into his arms, which if you were being honest was all you really wanted to do at that moment. “Have you thought about my question from yesterday?”
Suddenly, you weren’t pissed at him for dropping your hand, or for the prom thing, or any of the other similar stories that accompanied it, enough heartbreak to write a book of memoirs. You were mad at him because he asked you the question: “are you my girl?” in the first place and now, looking up at him, you knew how you needed to answer.
“No.”
“Look, I know I did something shitty, but it’s been like twenty-four hours now and if we could just talk -”
“No, Rafe. I’m saying, I have thought about the question, and the answer is no. I don’t want to be with you. I’m done.”
He just stood there, he just fucking stood there, looking down at you for a full minute before reacting. 
When he finally did, his bottom lip stuck out as he nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets and strolling casually across your room. Moving slowly, he stopped to survey the jewelry, makeup and other knick-knacks on your vanity, running his fingers over them like a restless kid in a store. You sat in bed with a furrowed brow and watched him with confusion, his muscular shoulders relaxed as they finally shrugged in response.
“No,” he shook his head, turning back to face you.
“I don’t remember asking you a question,” you were sitting up against the headboard now, arms crossed as you glared at him from under the hoodie.
“Have some coffee, think it over, we’ll talk about it,” he rambled, so casually it made your blood boil.
“I have thought about it! I’ve been in here for a whole day thinking about it,” you gestured around the room to emphasize your point.
He sighed, leaning back against your dresser on his arms, his triceps flexing as he looked down at you in the bed, “nah you’ve been in here hiding. What are you even doing?”
“I’m fine, Rafe,” you rolled your eyes. You hadn’t wanted to open up to any of the people who had come into the room before him, but you wanted his sympathy least of all. Good thing, you suppose, because he didn’t give it to you.
“I didn’t ask you if you were fine, I asked you what you were doing,” he said plainly.
Once again, Rafe was surprising you. You assumed when you saw him again, he’d be groveling, begging for you back, and you’d have to push him away. But here he was, not a hint of longing in his voice, just a blank face and a carved body you couldn’t believe was actually real. He wasn’t begging for you back, if anything he was being a little rude. God, what was wrong with you that it made you want him a little more?
“I’m watching TV,” you stammered dumbly, using your last sliver of willpower to direct your eyes to the laptop screen and away from him. “And getting over you.”
“Turn it off,” he responded. “And get out of bed.”
“I don’t know if you heard me just now, but I rejected you,” you were starting to get angry now. What was really pissing you off was the fact that out of everyone who’d come in here today, Rafe was the only one matching your energy. And it was successfully throwing you off balance. “I don’t know why you’re even still in here.”
“Yeah and I don’t know if you heard me, but I said no. If you wanna pissed at me, fine. But I’m not giving up on you and you’re not gonna spend the rest of this trip in here rotting because you’d hate yourself for wasting your last few days with Carter by freezing her out. So get up.”
“Stop acting like you know the first fucking thing about me, Rafe,” you rolled your eyes, sitting up straight on the mattress, the closest you’d been to getting up all morning.
“Oh don’t I? Really,” he looked around the room, gesturing towards the half empty pizza box from the night before, “pepperoni and onions? Extra cheese?”
“Okay, so you’ve seen me order pizza before, that doesn’t mean -”
“And I betcha I know what show you’re watching, the one you played like a million times junior year. Except you’re skipping the season finales because you don’t like endings. Which is how I know you’ll be so mad at yourself if you let Carter leave for the UK without making some good memories here with her.”
Rafe walked to the edge of the bed, resting forward on his hands and leaning toward you, the mattress sinking under his strength, causing you to slide towards the spot he was pushing it down. “You done with me? Fine. But I’m not done with you, so I’m not leaving this room until you get out of the fucking bed.”
“Get out,” you said through gritted teeth, scrambling to fight the forces of gravity and scoot away from him.
He only pushed the mattress down harder, making you tumble towards him, “no.”
You used your arms and feet to push yourself away from him as much as you could, needing desperately not to touch him, not to remind your body what his felt like, determined that you’d never let yourself feel him again.
His eyes were steely, expression fixed. He wasn’t leaving, and you’d never be able to overpower him physically, all you had left was a verbal defense.
Your chin wobbled with the angry tears you were failing to fight back, and for the second time today, you lied to protect yourself, “I hate you.”
He nodded that same, pursed lip nod, standing straight again, just looking down at you with an immovable defiance. 
“I’m not leaving,” he repeated.
Heart pounding with regret and adrenaline, you scooted back to the edge of the mattress. A disbelief that you’d just said what you said and the nauseating desire to crawl into his arms and beg for forgiveness, even though you knew you should stand your ground, you rose shakily from the bed. Needing to get away from him, and whatever version of yourself you’d just turned into. Desperate to escape with as few people seeing you cry as possible, you pushed past the crowd outside your door without a word and beelined toward the bathroom for a long, hot shower.
A few moments later, Rafe emerged from the room as well, holding the pizza box and other trash collected from your hiding place. 
“Woah you did it,” Topper congratulated him. “How’d you get her up?”
Rafe ignored him, his eyes on Carter, who watched him with a suspicious glare. He didn’t speak, disappearing back down the hall. Once he’d tossed your trash, he stood at the sink trying to breathe and make peace with what just happened, what you’d said to him.
As the ocean waves crashed violently outside the wide kitchen windows, a similar uneasy tide rose in his chest, threatening to spill over and destroy everything in sight.
Before he knew it, he was running again. He made it a half a mile down the beach before the inevitable caught up with him, squeezing his chest with a sharp pain. He doubled over, gripping his heart and wincing as the muscle constricted, his heartbeat erratic and vision blurry from lack of oxygen. His knees slammed into the hot sand as his body crashed out one limb at a time.
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“Rafe? Rafe, are you okay?! Rafe!!” 
(to be continued)
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a/n: okay ik this part is a lot of establishing things for the next part but part two will be nice and juicy and even have some giggles and good times
please note the taglist for this series is closed. for updates when I post, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs <3
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motorsportbarbie13 ¡ 2 months ago
Text
The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - Part 2
In which you spend the weekend in Miami as Max's personal guest.
Warnings: smut at the end ;) Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 5k words (whoops) plus social media posts
Part 1 Master List
(a/n: holy shit you guys absoltely blew up part one (its sitting at 1.7k notes last time i checked in under 3 days??? like WHAT???) so here's the much requested part 2. LMK if you want a part 3! Also going to try something different with the tag list tonight, so bare with me as I figure this out!! xoxo)
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You play with the hem of the cornflower blue sundress, nerves ratcheting up another notch when the car pulls into the race track. After you had wrapped up filming the podcast two weeks ago, Max had taken you out to one of his favorite London restaurants where you had spent the next nearly five hours talking about everything and nothing all at once. The only reason you had left was that the staff of the restaurant had started cleaning up around you, literally sweeping up under your feet and turning off the music as you had lingered over the last bits of your dessert together. 
The next day, Max had needed to go back to Milton Keynes to spend some time in the sim ahead of Miami weekend, unable to stay in London with you despite every bone in his body screaming that he didn’t want to leave you. It was weird, almost scary, to him how much space you took up in his thoughts so quickly. He didn’t usually get attached to anyone, much preferring to remain aloof and independent but in the two weeks that passed since he had seen you, he was unable (or unwilling, depending on who you asked, honestly) to think of anything else. The way you laughed, the way you smiled, the way you seemed to hang on every word that came out of his mouth simply mesmerized him. 
So now, here you were, two weeks later, moments away from seeing him again. Because while Max was down bad and trying not to blow this, you were also completely smitten with the Dutch driver. You had spent hours editing the first and second part of his episode yourself, something you hadn’t done in years, because you insisted you wanted to keep the integrity of the interview under your total control. Your video editor had seen the way you spoke about Max and just nodded, knowing that there had been something that sparked between you and him and that there would be no arguing about it with you. 
Max is in the garage when he gets the text from you that you’re in the parking lot waiting for him. As luck would have it, he’s just finishing up with some engineering meetings so he’s got some free time. He replies instantly, telling you to wait in the car for him and he’ll be right there. 
“I’m running out for a bit, GP. I’ll be back before FP1.” 
“I mean, you’d better be. Who else is going to get in that car? Horner?” 
Max chuckles, clapping his racing engineer on the back before slipping out the back of the garage. 
Max’s heart stalls when he sees the car you're in, nerves suddenly twisting in his gut. You two had been texting back and forth constantly since he left London the morning after you met. Evenings had been spent on FaceTime together when you could manage, but with your busy schedules it hadn’t been enough for Max. The relief he felt knowing you were less than 100 feet away had him swaying on his feet a bit. 
You knew Max was coming to meet you at the car but it had been a long drive from the airport, so while you waited you decided to stretch your legs. Max watches helplessly from a distance as the rear door on the SUV swings open, your bare legs making his mouth go dry when you hop out out of the car. 
It’s almost as if you sense his eyes on you, the weight of his gaze caressing your bare skin like the touch of a well known lover. It takes you a moment to recover when your eyes lock with his, the look on his face practically a billboard for how excited he is to see you. A wide grin spreads across your face when he starts towards you, heart tumbling down through your toes as he jogs your way. 
“Hi.” He breathes, stopping just short of gathering you up in his arms like he truly wants to. Despite how close you’ve grown over the last two weeks, Max reminds himself that it truly only has been two weeks and he doesn’t want to come on too strong. 
You look up at him, eyes sparkling with delight at finally being in his presence again. “Hey you.” You croon, nearly unable to stop yourself from throwing yourself into his arms. 
This kind of behavior was as out of character for you as it was for Max. You’d been burned by men in your life that were supposed to be there for you, love you, and protect you and so those walls had been put in place high and strong for years now . Something about Max made you question those defenses, wondering if he was going to be the one to stick around long enough to tear them down. While you tried to remain calm, objective, and aloof it was utterly impossible to act that way when you were around him. 
“How was your flight?” Max stuffs his hands in the pockets of his shorts, nerves turning the tips of his ears pink. He wants you in his arms so badly but didn’t want to push you away, didn’t want you thinking he had only brought you out to Miami this weekend for one thing. Because he hadn’t. He had simply wanted you by his side. 
“Well I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to fly commercial ever again, so I’ll be sending you the bill for all my private flights from now on.” You wink.
“You can use my jet whenever you want, schatje.” 
Your stomach does the same involuntary flip it does whenever he calls you that. At first it had been timid, slipped in at the end of a sentence almost like it was an afterthought or unconscious desire to claim you but as time goes on, Max settles into calling you either that or liefje more often than not. 
“Don’t tempt me.” You grin up at him, knowing that he fully means what he says. He’d absolutely let you use his jet whenever you wanted, all you had to do was ask. 
“So, your timing is really good.” Max nearly reaches for your hand but chickens out at the last minute, settling for just walking you back towards the car that sits idling behind you. 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah, I actually have an hour and a half break before I have to be back for the first practice session so I thought I could take you over to the hotel, get you settled in. I booked you your own room, of course and thought you’d maybe like to take a shower or a nap during the first session and then I could have an intern get you so you can watch the sprint quali later this afternoon.” 
Your heart warms at the earnest look on Max’s face. The fact that he’s gone ahead and thought all of this through for you, clearly wanting to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of all while you’re sure he’s overwhelmed with work, softens those well built walls arond your heart a bit more. 
“A shower and a nap does sound good.” 
Max smiles down at you, those blue eyes of his taking in every inch of your face like he’s trying to commit it to memory. “Good. Lets get you to the hotel then.” 
“Lead the way, Maxie.”  
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yourpersonalinsta posted a story
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story replies: user9029 girl drop the diet and workout routine plsss yourdad baby girl, i love you but put some clothes on >>>yourpersonalinsta love you too dad! maxverstappen1 are those my socks??? >>>yourpersonalinsta my feet got cold while you were gone playing with race cars. >>>maxverstappen1 i was literally working! and how'd you get into my room??? >>>yourpersonalinsta a lady never reveals her secrets, maxie ❤️ >>>maxverstappen1 i was right, you are trouble >>>yourpersonalinsta i prefer the phrase 'joy to be around'. pls hurry though back. i'm hungry and i may die of starvation in the next twenty minutes if you don't feed me. >>>maxverstappen1 do your fans know you're this dramatic??? >>>yourpersonalinsta why do you think they're my fans?
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The rest of Friday blurs together in a watercolor wash of heat, and people, and sounds that you’re utterly exhausted by the time you tumble into your bed late at night.
Alone, thank you very much.
The wine that you had drank at dinner with Max and a few other drivers has heat pooling low in your belly as you watched Max watch you all night. You had wanted to invite him back to your room, but something kept those words from slipping out all night and Max had been the picture of respectable, simply dropping a kiss on your forehead before wishing you goodnight at your hotel room. 
Saturday’s sprint race is just as busy and loud as qualifying had been and by the time it’s over, you’re exhausted, hot, and sweaty. You’re over the moon when Max pulls off the win in the sprint, throwing your arms around his damp neck the moment you see him after his media duties are completed and he finds you waiting for him in front of Red Bull's hopsitality. 
“That was amazing Max. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had this much fun. You make it all look so easy.” You gush.  
“It looks like you’re my lucky charm now, schatje. Won’t be able to win without you.” 
You smile, cheeks aching a bit at how much you’ve been doing that this weekend. You’ve fit in so well with everyone it’s almost spooky, like your presence was expected and welcomed in the garage, slotting into Max’s world with uncanny ease. 
As you follow Max back to his driver’s room that’s tucked away in the back of hospitality, his hand reaches for yours almost unconsciously. When his fingers twine with yours, the butterflies that have taken up permanent residence in your stomach this week take flight yet again. If this is how you react when he reaches for you, you can’t imagine how you’re going to handle when he finally kisses you properly. 
The hallway is quiet and long, with Max’s room at the end of the corridor. You’re only about half way there when a sudden wave of nausea washes over you, stopping you in your tracks. “Woah.” You whisper, free arm bracing against the wall for support. 
Max turns to you in an instant, his handsome features a mask of concern. “You okay?” 
You blink a few times, trying hard to fight the impending fainting spell you can feel yourself hurtling towards. “I..ummm…I think so?” 
Max all but picks you up in his arms, ushering you the short distance that separates you from his drivers room. “Lets get you sitting down. Have you eaten today?” 
A blush creeps up your cheeks. “Not since breakfast.” 
Max frowns, “That was hours ago, liefje.” 
The room is small with just enough room for a couch, massage table, and closet but it does the job, serving as a quiet respite from the mayhem of the paddock. Max gently leads you over to the navy blue couch. “Sit. I’m going to get you some water and food. The heat in Florida is no joke.” 
You nod, already feeling a little better now that you’re sitting down. Max is gone for several minutes but comes back absolutely laden down with so much food, you can’t help but laugh. “Max, I don’t know who you think I am but I am not a 300 pound body builder.” You say though your giggles. 
Max looks a little embarrassed but just tuts at you, placing the plates (of which there are three) down on the table in front of you. “I didn’t know what you liked. You had fish at dinner last night, much to Lando’s dismay, but they’re cooking salmon tomorrow, even though I asked for some today for you.” 
The way your chest squeezes at his ramblings has nothing to do with the headache that’s forming between your eyes and everything to do with the man sitting next to you practically spoon-feeding you a roasted beet and goat cheese salad. You obediently open your mouth when he lifts the fork to your lips, only rolling your eyes a bit at his fussing. “I am an adult, Verstappen. I can feed myself.” You grumble between bites. 
“I know but just humor me.” 
You roll your eyes again but open your mouth, the beet and goat cheese salad actually tasting really good. 
“Good girl.” He coos, setting your thighs squeezing together on their own accord. 
Your eyes flicker up to his at the praise and something passes between you two, a little spark of heat igniting there in the small room. 
“I’m sorry.” You whisper after a few more bites, tension hanging thick between you as you're tucked up together on the small couch. 
“Don’t be.” He insists, pushing a bottle of icy cold water into your hands. “I’m just glad I was here to take care of you.” 
“Me too.” You breathe, acutely aware to how close his body is to yours.
The urge to kiss you overwhelms Max, and it's not the first time this weekend this has happened. He’s been fighting the ever strengthening desire to just sweep you up and haul you back to his hotel room since you first stepped out of the Range Rover yesterday afternoon. Truthfully, he’d been wondering what you taste like ever since he’d walked into that recording studio in London.
He couldn’t explain how or why but your sudden appearance in his life seemed like some cosmic shift under his feet, his entire existence adjusting to this new normal of being in your orbit. He’d spent the last two weeks listening to all five years of your podcasts, even finding some old work you’d done in college and with each episode he found himself falling further and further into a rabbit hole that he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to climb out of.
Max falls silent then and so do you, a comfortable quiet settling over the room. The spark that had ignited so innocently just minutes before begins to smolder into something that has the energy between you two shifting. Like the entire reason for you being here this weekend had led up to this very moment. 
You break the spell first, leaning in just a fraction closer to Max like he's is the magnet you’re elementally obligated to be attracted to. But Max is equally compelled in his desire to finally find out what you taste like so he closes the gap between your lips and his, mouth grazing yours with the slightest pressure. It starts out as a timid thing, unsure of if it should exist in such a charged atmosphere. Once it gains its footing though, the kiss lengthens and takes on a life of its own. 
You sigh into Max’s mouth like it’s a relief to finally have him kissing you. Max lifts the tips of his fingers to your chin so he can tilt your head upwards, allowing him to deepen the kiss to a more heated pace. Your fingers grip at his Red Bull polo, desperate for something to hold on to while the taste of Max races through your veins. 
Something akin to a purr rumbles in the back of your throat when Max’s hands sift through your hair and it grows a little hotter when he tugs on the ends, forcing your head back so the slender column of your neck is fully exposed to him. You try not to cry when his lips leave yours, unhappy with how you can’t taste him fully anymore, but that disappointment quickly evaporates when he trails open mouthed kisses towards the enticing hollow of your throat. 
“I’ve been wondering what you taste like since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Max murmurs against your heated skin. 
Your head spins at his words. So it hadn’t just been you that had felt the spark that first day. “Max.” His name is a reverent prayer on your lips, urging him to never stop touching you. 
Max thinks he could go the rest of his life without winning another race and he’d still die happy because he’d finally kissed you. “You drive me mad, liefje. I am utterly consumed by you and I have no idea how you slipped this far under my skin so quickly.” 
The words send shivers skittering down your spine and you find yourself leaning into his touch even more, heart hammering wildly against your ribcage. 
A sharp and sudden knock sends you leaping out of Max’s arms so quickly, you nearly fall to the floor. “Holy fuck.” You whisper, hand flying to your lips like they’ve been burned. 
“Christ.” Max breathes, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah?” He calls, voice a strangled mess. 
“Uh…” The hesitation in the person’s voice told you that they knew they had interrupted something. “Max, Christian and GP wanted to go over a few more things before quali.” 
Max touches his forehead to yours, letting loose a breath to steady himself before he can answer. “I’ll be there in five.” He grumbles and you can hear the shuffle of feet retreating moments later. 
“You are going to ruin me, schatje.” Max murmurs, even though he has a feeling he was already ruined. 
You chuckle, rubbing your fingers over your swollen lips. You had never had a first kiss like that, ever. The way your body simply melted around Max like warm butter had your center turning molten. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” You joke.
Max just shakes his head and chuckles before his face pulls serious again. 
“How are you feeling? Do you want to stay here and rest or come with me to the garage? I could have an intern take you back to the hotel?” Max lifts his hand so it frames your face, concern flickering across his features. Your chest constricts in the most delicious way when he pulls your hands into his lap. 
“I’m good. I think your kisses may have healing properties actually.” You flirt, gazing at Max from under long lashes. “If I’m not too in the way, I’d like to stay with you.” 
It crosses your mind then, a quick rabbit of a thought, darting across your consciousness that you’ve been so independent for so long, so bent on not relying on anyone for security or safety, only to have the entire rug of your resistantance ripped out from under you. It’s a gooey and warm feeling that you hope isn’t just a flash in the pan, although your gut tells you Max is the real deal. 
You hadn’t given yourself this freely to anyone in so long, panic grips at your throat for a moment, the desperate need to flee suddenly choking you. Just when the panic of what’s transpiring here threatens to pull you under, Max’s cool blue eyes yank you back to him where you belong. 
“I think I’m going to like having you by my side.” His breath fans out over your cheeks, pulling you further out of your tumble.
Max stands, sensing something shifting deep within you then. He saw something pass behind your eyes just then, the delicate shiver of hesitation. He’d been expecting it. No one who was as strong as you were got that way without having a story to tell. He knew that and had known this moment would come. What he hadn’t expected was to watch you pull yourself back from that precipice of panic. It had been a stunning thing to watch, even if the act was nothing more than a fleeting moment. But the way he watched you catch yourself spinning and knit yourself back together without so much as a whisper of a breath made him want to shield you from whatever had caused you the heartache to begin with. 
He holds his hand out to you, which you gladly take, and leads you towards the door while knotting his fingers up with yours. The nerves in your stomach settle with his touch and it sort of scares you, how well this man can read you so soon. This had been the last thing you had ever thought would happen when the man you were falling for walked into your life just 2 weeks ago. 
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yourpersonalinsta posted
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198,392 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbull racing, and others yourpersonalinsta omg miami if this is how you introduce yourself to a girl, i can't wait to see how the first date goes! super proud of @/maxverstappen1 for winning the spring race today. next up: quali. user992 girl is auditioning to be the next WAG in the paddock >>>user020 seriously thirsting for nothing but clout this weekend maxverstappen1 told you you'd bring me extra luck this weekend >>>yourpersonalinsta ❤️ >>>user0093 oh this is interesting user9392 the fact that she was such a genuine fan of the sport before and now she's AT her first race as Max's guest all because of her podcast. i just... >>>user223 now i'm crying, thanks. redbullracing so fun having you in the garage today! excited for sunday! >>>yourpersonalinsta thank you for having me!
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There was just something so enticingly attractive about watching Max race on Sunday that had you feeling embarrassingly needy for him by the time he got you back to his hotel room that night. As you had watched him on the podium that afternoon, you just knew how messy you’d be below him later that night.
“I think your performance this weekend has earned you a reward.” Your rasp, voice a husky whisper in his ear as you glue yourself to him in the elevator that evening.
Max cocks an eyebrow at you while his fingers grip at your hips. “Oh yeah? And what would that be, lifeje?”
“Why don’t you take me back to your room and let me show you.” You lick at his neck, savoring the taste of sweat and champagne that clings to him despite his shower at the track earlier.
Max’s groan is enough of an answer and when the elevator slows, signaling your arrival at his floor, you follow him out into the quiet hallway, giggling when he playfully grabs a handful of your ass.
You had tried to convince yourself the entire drive back to the hotel that this wasn’t how the night was going to end. It was too soon, you thought. This was the first weekend you had spent any time with him and you didn’t want Max to get the wrong idea about you. And then he had spent the entire drive back to the hotel with one hand inching higher and higher up on your bare thigh. His thick fingers traced random patterns on your tanned skin, until the very tips had slipped just under the hem of your dress and all thoughts had eddied right out of your head.
Max, meanwhile, had been thinking of this moment since the second he had climbed out of the car. He didn't want to push you but the need to learn how you sounded when he was buried deep inside you was was out of control.
The moment the door snicks closed behind you, you're shoving Max against the wall, utterly desperate to get your mouth on him. Sinking to your knees in front of him, hands trailing down his torso. Your fingers drag over the skin just above the waistband of his jeans, long nails sending a shudder down Max's spine.
"Let me taste you, Max." You moan, reaching for the buckle of his belt.
"Please." He begs as he sinks his hands deep into your hair.
You have to stifle a gasp when you free his thick cock from his boxers, pushing the soft cotton down to his ankles along with his jeans. He's already desperatly hard, dick all red and angry with arousal, practically begging you to take it in your mouth.
Max can hardly believe the sight before him. You down on your knees for him, lips mere millimeters from his raging hard-on, was probably the prettiest sight he'd seen in a long time. When you first wrap your lips around the tip, tongue darting out to taste the salty precum that he's already leaking, it takes every ounce of control Max has to not sink deep down your throat.
"Holy fuck, baby." He shudders, fingers gripping your hair even tighter. Max would be lying if he said he hadn't played out this exact scenario several times over the past two weeks, only it had been his own hand fisting his cock instead of your lips.
All you do is hum in response, the vibration of your voice sending sharp new shivers bolting down Max's spine. One hand snakes up his toned thighs, enjoying the thick muscles bunching and flexing as you take him deeper down your throat. Your other hand, however, trails down your own thighs, dipping below the hem of your dress to find your own already ruined panties wet with the arousal Max has already drawn from you.
"You like touching yourslef while you suck me off, pretty girl?" Max's voice is all gravel as his hips snap towards you, forcing you to take him even deeper into your mouth.
You look up at him, eyes watering, thick lashes matted with tears and smile the best you can with your lips wrapped around him. You continue your work, head bobbing up and down on his length, enjoying the way his dick is slick with your saliva, a bit of it dripping down your chin as you take him even deeper. You swear you could spend the rest of the night down on your knees with how good Max feels and tastes in your mouth, your own fingers buried deep inside you. The release you've been wanting all week starts to build and Max begins to feel it too.
Max knows he's not going to last much longer and he doesn't want to come quite yet. Gently he pulls you off, chuckling at the mewl of protest that slips past your lips when he pushes you off of him.
"Max." You whine, wanting nothing more than to swallow his release down your throat.
"Get on the bed, lifeje." He orders.
You scramble to your feet, disappointment at not making him come with your mouth quickly replaced with the anticipation of what you know is coming next. You've tried so hard to resist the fact that you've wanted this since the moment you saw him Friday afternoon but as you lay down on the bed and watch Max stalk towards you like a lion after his prey, all reservations evaporate into thin air. You know deep within your chest that this is what's supposed to happen right now.
"Dress off." He commands and the thrill of being ordered around flashes through you.
You follow his directions before laying back on the pillow, watching as Max reaches behind him back to strip off the sweaty team kit you hadn't bothered taking off before sucking his dick. A sudden wave of vulnerability sweeps over you as Max stands at the foot of the bed, eyes raking over your bare frame.
"You are the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes on." Max murmurs, sensing your hesitation at being so vulnerable in front of him. He doesn't want you to be nervous, needing you to know how utterly obsessed he is with you. It staggers him when he thinks about how deeply you've dug yourself under his skin in such a short time. You've barely spent longer than a few days together and he's already so deeply lost in you.
"Do something, Maxie." You beg, squirming under his heated stare.
His weight is heavy and delicious when he finally covers your body with his, notching his cock just outside your dripping core. Max reaches down, letting out a heated moan when he feels how wet you are for him. "You are soaked for me, gorgeous girl. God, how did I get so lucky? Have you been like this all fucking day, schatje?"
"Been desperate for you all fucking day, Max." You breath, your hips lifting up off the bed in a needy search for the friction you crave.
"Lets see if we can get you some relief, yeah baby?"
When Max sinks into you for the first time, you can't help the desperately needy whine that escapes from your mouth. His name is a prayer on your lips, every nerve ending in your body sparking to life. The stretch of his cock burns in the most delicious way. "So full." You cry as Max's hips meet yours when he slides into you completely.
Max doesn't quite understand how you're so blissfully tight and wet and warm all at the same time but he thinks it's the best feeling he's ever experienced. His head drops to the crook of your neck as he buries himself in you to the hilt, the base of his dick grinding against your clit. "Fuck, you're to tight around me baby. How do you feel this fucking good?"
You and Max fall into a rhythm, the only sound in the room are the quieted sighs slipping their way from your lips before Max can steal them from your throat. The friction is amazing and before he can quell it, Max feel the lick of fire coiling at the base of his spine, telltale sign that he's about to spill. “Won’t last much longer.” He pants, lips falling to suck at the skin at your neck. 
Max struggles to keep the pace up, diving into you with long, slow strokes that fill you up and empty you out over and over and over. Sweat forms on his brow that was tipped down in concentration and you have to resist the urge to lick it off. Every stroke deep into your pussy fills you up so fully it's almost too much. Too much sensation, too much heat, too much fullness. You can’t help the whines that slip from your lips but Max only encourages them by chanting your name over and over. 
“I know, baby. I know.” He coos in your ear as your muscles tense beneath him. “You’re doing so good for me, taking it all so good.” 
The praise is almost too much. “Don’t stop.” You beg when his fingers dip down between you to find your clit as he continues to stroke into you. Stars erupt on the back of your eyelids. “Holy fuck. Max.” You manage to bite out.
“Come for me. I want to feel you come all over my dick, please baby.” Blinding need consumes Max's entire existence, his full attention focused on the way you clench around him over and over.  
That’s all it takes. The command sends you hurtling over the edge, right into a spine tingling orgasm. Your body goes rigid for a moment under Max's weight but as quick as it starts, a boneless languid feeling sweeps through you as the endorphins flood your system. Your own climax has pushed Max over he edge and he comes hard, groaning in your ear as he rasps your name. 
Max collapses on top of you and you relish the heavy weight of his body on yours. Much too soon, he rolls off and you whimper, instantly feeling empty without him inside you. Max gathers you up in his arms though, the heat of his body quickly warming your chilled skin. Your hand settles on his chest, right over his heart, which is still racing.
“Jesus Christ, shactje.” Max finally breaks the silence, giving my hip a squeeze as he nuzzles into my hair. “You really are going to ruin me.”
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maxverstappen1 posted:
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838,291 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, yourdad and others maxverstappen1: another great weekend with a good haul of points! Thank you Miami, you were good to us. On to the next! user2992 uh, max? care to explain that second photo >>>user92928 is that who I think it is??? yourpersonalinsta had so much fun with you this weekend! can't wait for the next one >>>maxverstappen1 ❤️ >>>user0221 EXCUSE ME. user0022 i ran into them late Sunday night at the hotel and let me tell you...there's nothing PR about their chemistry together. >>>user9288 i fucking KNEW it user05543 anyone else see @/yourpersonalinsta's dad in the likes!?
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yourpersonalinsta posted
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231,209 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, charlesleclerc and others yourpersonalinsta after this weekend, i think i can consider myself officially a red bull girlie. blissfully excited i got to see a MV1 podium AND sprint win! thank you for letting me into your world @/maxverstappen1. can't wait til next time ❤️ maxverstappen1 gonna need you at every race now that you're my lucky charm. user9282 'thank you for letting me into your world' YOU EXPECT ME TO ACT NORMAL AFTER THAT CAPTION MA'AM??? >>>user7623 kicking my feet and giggling and i'm not even @/yourpersonalinsta omg redbullracing you're welcome in the garage any time!! >>>user9935 even admin has a crush! >>>maxverstappen1 @/user9935 i mean, how can you not??? >>>user9935 omg hi king. glad you know how amazing she is! don't hurt our girl, k??? >>>maxverstappen1 i would never ☺️ (liked by yourpersonalinsta)
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maxverstappen1 private stories
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story replies: yourpersonalinsta god i look good in navy >>>maxverstappen1 no more ferrari red for you, sweet girl >>>yourpersonalinsta miss you already 😢 >>>maxverstappen1 i know. i'll see you soon, promise >>>yourpersonalinsta ❤️ danielricciardo excuse me but WHAT THE FUCK >>>maxverstappen1 : 🤭 charlesleclerc oh she's got you using the lip biting emoji. it's over, pack it up boys. MV1 is officially off the market. >>>maxverstappen1 accurate though
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@shelbyteller @martygraciesversion381 @anilovessadbooks @formulaal @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99
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loonylupinblack3 ¡ 9 months ago
Text
Period Trouble
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
Warnings: swearing, nothing else i think?
Summary: you wake up with your period and are forced to go on a mission with Logan of all people
Word count: 2.4k
A/N: literally obsessed with this man rn so ofc i had to write about him. also wolverine has enhanced senses including smell but its like…. barely shown in the movies so i had to search it up to be sure, and some part of me still doubts it but for the purposes of this fic he does have it
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You woke up with a groan, immediately curling into a ball. You were early. You were early and you hadn’t emotionally or physically prepared for having your period today, yet the world seemed ready to punish you, burdening you with an early cycle.
You checked the time, cursing every god and deity you knew when you realised you were supposed to have woken up half an hour ago. Wincing, you got up, your body screaming at the movement. Already your stomach was aching, the ghosts of cramps to come caressing your body. 
There was knocking at your door, quiet yet firm. You already knew it was Storm on the other side of the door, no doubt in search of a reason why you failed to get up on time. It was going to be a long day.
You yelled out to Storm, promising to be out in five minutes, and got up, groggily looking for your clothes. When you’d tamed your hair and brushed your teeth, you exited your room to find Storm waiting on the other side, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.
She took one look at you and sighed. “What are you wearing?”
You looked down perplexed. “....my clothes?”
She raised her eyebrow. “You’re on a mission today, remember?”
Fuck. You nearly let out a whine. You were not in the mood to go skulking around doing Xavier’s bidding when you had a constant throbbing pain assaulting your stomach, unreasonable mood swings, and exhaustion weighing you down.
Storm sent you a questioning look. “You up for this?”
The mission was nothing big. Professor X needed you to collect some sort of rare herb that had recently been shipped into the nearest city, something he needed to complete a super secret experiment you weren’t privy to. He’d just asked for help and you’d volunteered.
Oh how you regretted that decision now.
“Yeah I’m fine,” you muttered. “Let me just get changed real quick.”
Getting into your previously decided upon outfit, a plain inconspicuous one intended to blend in, you left your room again, this time with no complaint from Storm. Your stomach gave an uncomfortable clench and you sighed, making a mental note to find some nurofen before leaving for the mission.
“Why aren’t you in your outfit?” you asked, just realising Storm wasn’t wearing what you two had agreed upon yesterday.
She winced slightly. “Can’t go. Filling in for some classes.”
Your face soured but you tried not to hold it against her. Storm loved her students, and given the choice of helping them or Xavier with a low level mission, she’d obviously choose her kids. You couldn’t blame her exactly, but it meant you’d have to go on this mission alone, while not impossible by any means it would make it slightly more difficult.
You sighed. “That’s okay. I can go alone.”
When Storm winced even more your eyes narrowed in suspicion, following her with caution. “Storm…..”
She sighed guiltily. “Xavier didn’t want you to go alone. The herb’s too valuable.”
You tilted your head slightly as you entered the house’s foyer. “So who am I going with then?”
Storm’s eyes darted ahead, and you followed her gaze to find Logan Howlett leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He smirked at you, “you’re looking at him sweetheart.”
You resisted the urge to groan, instead sending Storm a dirty look. You didn’t necessarily dislike Logan, but he was a lot to deal with, and you were already tired from your day that had barely begun.
You couldn’t say all that with Logan standing there however, so you muttered a, “lovely,” and walked past the man to the garage.
He followed you silently, no quip or smart ass comment which was strange for him. You’d just entered the garage, heading towards one of the cars, when you glanced back at him and found Logan stopped in the doorway, staring at you with a frown on his face. Or rather, a deeper frown than usual.
“What is it?” you asked him, standing at the hood of the car.
Logan’s eyes roved your body, searching for something. “You’re injured.”
It was your turn to frown. “What? No I’m not.”
He took a step forward, almost as if he was planning on looking for your alleged injury himself. “Don’t bullshit me Y/n, I can smell your blood.”
You made a face. “What are you talking about…..” you trailed off when you realised it, perhaps the most mortifying moment in your life.
Logan could smell your period blood. He thought you were bleeding from an injury. 
You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”
He scoffed, walking towards you until you were face to face. You tried to step back and felt the hood of the car against your legs. “I can smell the fucking blood seeping out of you Y/n. I wouldn’t call that fine.”
You gritted your teeth to stop yourself from snapping at him. “I can assure you, I am not injured.”
You moved to walk past him but he caught your wrist, forcing you back into your position pressed against the car. “If you think I am going on this mission with you while you’re wounded, you’re out of your mind.”
“I’m not-”
“Do you think I’m an idiot darl? Is that why you’re denying being hurt while I can literally smell it on you-”
You cut him off. “I’m on my period, Logan.”
He paused, staring at you with an indecipherable expression on his face. You waited for him to speak, feeling embarrassed and furious about it. Why should you be embarrassed of your period? He was the one who was pushing you, prodding you, forcing you to tell him the source of the bleeding. If your answer made him uncomfortable, that wasn’t your fault nor your concern.
Eventually he spoke. “Alright then. Get in the car. I’m driving.”
You scowled at him. “Says who?”
He didn’t even bother looking at you, already in the driver’s seat. “Says me.”
You sighed but didn’t argue further, silently getting into the passenger seat. Logan started the car, reversing it out of the garage and driving down the long winding driveway till you got to the street.
“It’s an hour's drive to the city, give or take,” you told Logan, setting the GPS up on the car.
Logan barely glanced at it, eyes on the road, a firm grip on the steering wheel. He didn’t even respond to you. You sighed and turned away, looking out the window as the scenery passed you in flashes.
As the drive continued, you noticed Logan sending you glances every now and then. If you really focused on them, you’d almost say they seemed worried, concerned even, but they were always too quick for you to tell for certain. You were too preoccupied with your cramps that had started up anyway, and the lack of nurofen you’d forgotten to grab.
Finally, you arrived at the city, driving into the hustle and bustle of the crowded area. Logan’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, obviously not a fan of the traffic the city provided. You watched the stream of people through the window as Logan looked for a space to park, muttering under his breath.
You were mildly entertained at the amount of road rage he had, cursing every car that wasn’t at least 10 metres over the speed limit. His jaw was clenched, hand fisting the steering wheel, yet he still looked at you here and there, like you were actually wounded.
When he eventually found a parking spot the two of you got out of the car and you looked at the address Xavier gave you.
“Should be somewhere along this street,” you murmured, eyes flicking from the piece of paper to the busy street.
Logan moved behind you, so close you could feel your back against his chest, and looked at the paper in your hand. He let out a grunt and moved past you, walking forwards. You frowned and hurried your pace, not wanting to lose him amidst the crowd of people.
Luck was certainly not your side, because soon enough you’d lost him, unable to see his black leather jacket in the throng of people. You hesitated, wondering if you should look for him or just go straight to the address, when you felt an arm around your waist.
“Stay close to me,” Logan murmured into your war, his voice gravelly. “Don’t wanna lose you again.”
You glanced at him as he continued walking, not moving his arm from your waist. “How’d you find me?”
He gave you a smirk. “Followed the smell of blood.”
Again you felt your cheeks heat but you glared at him defiantly, refusing to be embarrassed. He smirked at you, flashing his teeth, as you arrived in front of the address, a plain building home to some sort of florist. 
Logan finally took his hand from your waist, walking to the door with you trailing behind him. A bell gave a little jingle as you entered, and you were immediately assaulted with the smell of flowers. Different sorts of plants took up every corner of the room and Logan’s face soured as he looked around, obviously not pleased with the environment.
An old woman sat behind a desk, watering a plant with a mini watering can. You walked up to her, Logan hot on your heels. When you stopped in front of the desk Logan was so close behind you you could actually feel his chest against your back.
“Mrs May?” you asked.
The old woman looked at you with a smile, her eyes crinkling. “That’s me. What can I help you two lovebirds with? Bouquet of roses? Lilies?”
You opened your mouth, surprised, and tried to find something to say. Being mistaken for a couple shouldn’t have affected you so much, especially while on a mission, but you were flustered and could still feel Logan’s chest right against your back, his warmth almost dizzying.
“We’re not here for flowers unfortunately,” Logan spoke, saving you. Except why didn’t he specify you weren’t a couple? Did that not matter to him, what some old lady thought, or did he enjoy the idea of being thought of as your boyfriend?
Oh god. What were you thinking? Stupid period hormones. 
The old lady looked at you two curiously. “Then how can I help you?”
There was a pointed silence and you realised Logan was waiting for you to speak. You cleared your throat and spoke the random sequence of words Xavier had you memorise, that would inform Mrs May just what type of buyers you were.
The woman’s eyes lit up with recognition and she nodded her head slowly. “Ah, yes, let me just go to the storage room quickly, I’ll be back….”
Mrs May tottered around the desk and through a side door, half hidden behind the multitude of plants covering the area, leaving you alone with Logan.
You took a step away from him and turned around to look at him, finding him staring at you with a frown on his face.
You frowned back at him. “What’s up with you today?”
He raised his eyebrows at you. “What is up with me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed Darl but you haven’t exactly been up to par yourself.”
You rolled your eyes at his words. “That’s not what I meant, and besides, I’m on my period.”
Logan stared at you, arms crossed. “What did ya mean then?”
“You’ve been acting strange. Less talkative and annoying like usual.”
Logan snorted. “Ever the lady.”
“I’m serious. What’s up with you?”
Logan sighed and took a step forward until he was towering over you and you had to crane your head up to look at him. “You are what’s up. I can constantly smell you bleeding, and I can’t get it out of my mind that it means you’re hurt. You’re driving me crazy sweetheart.”
Well…. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting. Logan smirked down at you as if he knew that, and enjoyed surprising you. You cleared your throat as your eyes darted to the floor. “Well, that’s hardly my fault.”
Logan chuckled. “Not your fault no, but it is your doing whether you mean to or not.”
You swallowed, looking back up at him. “Well…. Don’t you constantly smell when people are on their periods?”
“It’s different with you. Smelling your blood just drives me crazy, plain and simple. Can’t get the instinct out of my head that blood means injury.”
The way Logan was admitting all of this, with such calm, made you think he’d been wanting to say this for a while. The unspoken confession was there, and it was up to you to decide what to do with it.
“I’m glad you care,” was what you landed on, unsure of what else to say.
Logan chuckled again, one hand snaking to your waist. “I do a lot more than care, Y/n.”
You smiled softly, looking up at him. With his other hand he brushed your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The sound of a door closing brought you out of your little bubble and you took a step back, Logan reluctantly letting go of your waist.
Mrs May, either not having seen you two or graciously deciding to ignore it, passed you a package, informing you the herb and all information involving it was inside, and to handle it with care. You nodded and thanked the old woman before exiting the building, Logan again right on your heels.
As soon as the shop’s door closed behind you Logan’s hand was back around your waist. “Not losing you this time.”
You tried not to smile, though internally you were grinning like a maniac, and let Logan lead the two of you back to the car. You didn’t even get to argue your case of driving this time, Logan already in the driver’s seat. You sighed and got into the passenger seat, resigning yourself to another hour of silence as Logan started driving, when you felt his hand on your thigh.
You looked at him but he didn’t say anything, just gave it a light squeeze as he kept his eyes on the road. You looked away, grinning. So maybe the world didn’t have it out for you after all.
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