#that's kind of how it goes with me and writing

[mixtapesandwintercoats]

women=scapegoats

Just my opinion.

TRIGGERING WARNING: SA/ SH

When did the word woman become synonymous with scapegoat? As I see the news each day, I realize this is the world we seem to live in. In light of recent events regarding the attempt to destroy the career and livelihood of a fellow actress and woman , I have felt compelled to write this, as I have unfortunately been subject to the same toxic masculinity throughout my life. In my recent career, I’ve brought forward concerns about a male colleague and was deemed “hysterical.” I was told my fears were figments of my imagination. Now, as I’m seeing this pattern pop up more, I realize this is the norm.

I, like a lot of women, had hope in change —especially in the latter part of 2017 when many brave women came forward during the #MeToo movement. There seemed to be an uprising, a new wave of recognition for those who had been abused, degraded, slandered, silenced and it was loud. But it was the kind of noise I can only liken to a firework. It can wake you up out of a sound sleep, it burns so bright and shocks the shit out of you but then, it burns out — just like that. And when the smoke in the sky clears and the ashes and debris are swept away from the sidewalk, behind closed doors —to them— we are still just noisy women.

So we all go about our business until the next wave of injustice comes.

With the #MeToo movement, it felt different. People were annoyed (by people, I mean men and anyone who enables abusers). Annoyed that they might have to change their own dehumanizing behavior. I remember the shift from “yasss!!! Go women!!!! We are woke af!!!! We got your back!!!!” To “god, didn’t these bitches have their moment a few years ago? Get over it”. As if centuries of women being underpaid, undervalued, under-appreciated, raped, harassed, terrified and used for the benefits of dick-wielding heroes would be erased because you commented on your second cousins #MeToo instagram saying “stay strong”.

It was a pat on the head, a consolation prize accompanied by an eye roll as if we were just all constantly complaining that the gas station didn’t sell our preferred brands of tampons.

When a suit was filed against me by a former employer, (the suit was withdrawn), after making a confidential complaint against a coworker for unprofessional behavior, I had the silly and naive impression they would believe me. I am not known as a liar in my field of work, no matter how vocal I may be. Hence, why I’ve been working for 25 years. Instead of being believed and protected, a suit was filed against me for having the audacity to speak up. I was publicly shamed and defamed in the process. A reputation I had cultivated for over 2 decades had now been tainted as I became the crazy, paranoid and to quote directly, “hysterical and wild” woman, who apparently just had it in for men. My previous abuse was also brought up as “unfounded claims”, and I was made to seem like someone who just goes after men, rather than being seen as someone who has been dealing as a professional in this world, since I was a child, standing up for herself. This was after I had taken all of the recommended, reasonable and appropriate measures of reporting confidentially to my union.

The experience left me with a lot of questions, of the professionals in my industry, of the public, and of men.

To the public… I often wonder why are we always so excited to see the takedown of a woman? Why are we always so quick to defend a man after he is accused of bad behavior, but if a woman speaks out… she’s clearly a liar? I’d like to think it’s because we are supremely afraid to believe the truth that these things actually happen. I’d like to believe it’s some form of indoctrinated denial. However, time and time again, I find most people believe the approval of a man is far more significant than the burden of supporting a woman. For men, it is always innocent until proven guilty. For women it is the opposite. “Prove your fear.” “Prove your discomfort.” “Prove your pain.”

This MUST change.

And to men, I first wonder… if you complained about a coworker and you were called a liar… how would you feel? You probably can’t answer this because most likely, statistically, it’s never happened to you. Men are usually believed because so many “bosses” are men.

I will say this to those who have such a difficult time believing that women are truthful: do you know what happens to us if we report anything?

Do you know that most of the time when a woman reports a concern about a man, the burden of proof lies solely on us?

Do you know how it feels to be treated as a second rate citizen solely because we don’t have an appendage we can stick into anything we feel we own the right to?

And yet… you need us. You can’t charge your phone without an outlet right?

And is that all we are? Outlets? Something you can take your anger and vitriol and push that into us and onto us?

It leads us to the impossible double-edged sword we face everyday.

If we don’t speak up, we’re weak and aiding in the problem.

If we do, we are over dramatic, bitchy, bossy, divas.

Do you have a sister? Do you have a daughter? Do you have a mother? I’m sure you do.

And so here we find ourselves again, in a vicious cycle of crucifying another woman for speaking out against a man. Watching as the world splits in two over who is telling the truth, no matter how much evidence is presented. Because how could a woman do anything but lie or exaggerate?

So I ask you this:

How can a man do anything but lie when he is consistently told his deceptions are gospel? Are we forever to hold the burden of being “perfect” to be victims and to be believed?

To change the narrative, we do not need more women to scream. We just need a lot more men to shut up and listen.

-abbie

[copilot-crashout]

haiii!! i just found ur blog thingy and I LOVE UR WRITING SO MUCH!!

erm is it possible for some daisuke x shy!reader hcs…. im soo starved of shy reader in this danfom……

Pairing: Daisuke x gn!reader

Content Warning: None!

[A/N]: This is so sweet! Thank you! (/▿＼ ) I didn't realise there was such a drought..!! Daisuke is one of the characters I struggle with writing, but I tried my best! I'll keep writing for him, for practice! ᕦ(˵•̀ᴥ•́˵)ᕤ

DAISUKE:

-> With Daisuke having such a boisterous personality, people would assume it would be hard for him to get along with someone so shy. Yet, it works out perfectly! You balance each other out, Daisuke becoming your voice when you don't feel able to speak up, and you becoming his leash for when his antics become too much for the rest of the crew.

-> During your first days on the Tulpar, you found yourself accustomed to the different personalities on the ship, including Daisuke. He found you to be the most interesting on the ship, although your skittish nature made it hard for him to connect with you. He grinned, creating a mission for himself. He would become your friend, no matter how shy you were!

-> Daisuke is a naturally clingy guy, a total sucker for any kind of physical touch. One morning, he slings his arm over your shoulder, pulling you in for a friendly conversation. He doesn't miss the way your pretty eyes don't quite meet his or the way you fidget with whatever your hands can grab onto. It captivates him. Was the lounge always this small, or was it just his proximity to you making the world seem so lacklustre in comparison?

-> He whines to Swansea, begging him for advice, pleading with puppy eyes for some tips on how to break through your shyness. All he gets in response is a whack on the head with a rough command to get back to work without his head in the clouds. If you're close to any of the other characters, he clumsily attempts to interrogate them, asking how they got you so comfortable around them.

-> Your shyness isn't bad! He just wants to get to know you, so he tries to break through initially. He's happy for you to stay reserved, so long as you spend time with him! If anything, he finds it cute. The way you stumble over your words, fidget with your clothes and blush when he does anything too forward. It gives him cuteness aggression. He wants to squish your cheeks together and litter kisses all over, eyes glistening with mirth as he feels you flounder under his touch.

-> Daisuke is a man of quality time. Whenever Swansea bats him away from work, you're the person he goes running to. Entwines his hand into yours while talking into your ear, rubbing soft circles into the back of your hand, the cold metal of his rings pressed into your palm as you walk laps around the ship. Nights on the Tulpar are spent coddled up in his room, Daisuke playing on his Game Boy as you watch, a pout on his face as he passes it over for your turn once he dies. He hugs you from behind, eyes focused on the small device... His heart still leaps at the way your breath hitched at how close he was, feeling his breath along your neck.

-> You're not one to talk much? Then, you're perfect at keeping secrets! He'll drag you along as he grows his ever-expanding sweetener collection. You're sat on the kitchen counter, keeping guard as Daisuke presses numbers into the machine with a giggle. These heists are way more fun with you by his side.

-> You'd be silly to think he wasn't awkward, either. Catch him slacking on work or caught in a mess of his own making, and you'll watch as Daisuke chuckles nervously, a pretty flush rising to his cheeks as he tries to play it cool. You dig that, right?

"Fancy seeing you here! Uh— Don't mind the mess! I got my work cut out for me."

Daisuke stumbles over his words, suavely leaning on the doorframe to the utility room, trying to cover the absolute carnage behind him. You didn't need to see the mess strewn across the floor, papers and tools spread in every which way. As he opens his mouth to speak again, he's cut off with a yell from Swansea. You feel the weight of a hand placed on your shoulder with a nervous chuckle, the man giving you a dorky, lopsided grin.

"Work calls. I'll see you in my room later... Right? Notlikethatunlessyouwantittobebut— ack! You know what I mean!"

He can't save himself, but he can always run, delaying having to hear your response for a few hours. Just enough time to bring his composure back. He gives you a nod and runs back into the utility, leaving you alone to wonder what the hell just happened.

-> You become a place of refuge for him. As much as he smiles, Daisuke knows he can't always keep it up. His worries for his future and family build up gradually, creating a weight that seats itself into his chest uncomfortably. Your shy nature allows him to feel safe, creating a soft atmosphere he could just melt into, rather than facing the roughness of everyday life. It lifts his worries if only for a moment. He talks to you about his future, hoping you can lend an ear. Of course, he'll do the same for you! Rest your head in his lap as you talk about your issues, and he'll happily listen, offering advice when he can, but more importantly, keeping you happy. You're a rare treasure, after all.

-> Platonic or romantic, you're a killer duo! He wouldn't trade your relationship for the world!

[allowmetohityouwithmyreblog]

Holy shit I love how as the character gets a little more deranged about living here, they start using we, when earlier she had said that their dog didn’t count since he didn’t pay rent, but as it gets closer to the end it becomes not my apartment, our apartment- it goes from ‘I vacuum them up’ to ‘we would have been killing the ants…’ in the same paragraph, when the dog is distinctly not killing or vacuuming anything. (I’d also like to note that while at some points we could imply the dog and the person, there is a point where it is ‘We take our dog,’ which makes no sense if the dog is apart of the we.)

The sentences get a little more frantic in that last big paragraph. Disjointed. As if, for some reason, they’re typing fast. In a way normal people typically don’t type. Unless it’s to convey, this sort of feeling. Then it goes back to normal, and they use shorter paragraphs at the end. And they state that, contrary to how they had been writing previously, they don’t feel frenzied. They’re actually being quite kind. (Though it is phrased with we, again.)

I also love this repetition in certain phrases and ideas— that pamphlet’s tagline: ‘It’s a beautiful place to grow up.’ Or The idea that they love the location more than they hate the oddities of the apartment- at-least, that’s what they’re trying to convince themselves of. I love that in this, time does pass, so the op/author has the months they’ve lived here go up- 5 to 6.

I love that this person doesn’t attack the ghosts- given that the ghosts don’t hurt them. They clearly don’t trust them, but they are kindly to them.

I like this thought I had which might not be intended but I will state it anyways: I enjoy how it looks like the ghosts have just realized that now that somebody actually moved in to their apartment complex, they need to do more to seem like a full complex than just have shadows in the windows and furniture on the porches and cars in the lot. They have to make sound, and it takes awhile for them to figure it out- and they start with mimicry. (Also, the thing about them always getting the last parking spot makes me think that there are as many ghosts as there are cars, and as soon as this person passes, they will be the last ghost/spirit, and the complex will be full and complete— very Disney’s haunted mansion; very ‘There are 999 happy haunts, but there’s room for one more. Care to join us?’ Type vibe.

I love the details about how the ghosts walk weird- and the Idea of them- the person- trying to figure out just how wide that radius of what imma call the ‘’hang up zone’’ actually is.

Anyways, short rant about a piece of writing I fell in love with.

i've seen enough horror movies starring upper-middle-income white families stuck in spacious haunted mansions. gimme stories about millennials stuck in haunted studio apartments. consider the realism:

why is this protagonist staying in an obviously haunted building despite the glaring warning signs? because a week at a motel would send them spiraling into credit card debt, they'll take their chances with the vengeful spirits. why did they chose this apartment complex to begin with, despite the many many unexplained mysterious deaths that show up on the first page of a google search? hon some of us don't have the credit score to move away from high (paranormal) crime areas. how could i be so careless as to sign a soul-binding contract with a demonic entity? bitch they're called LANDLORDS

[yanderefarm]

yandere experiment introduction

cw;; drugs, child abuse, abuse, violence, torture, nsfw, overstimulation

His codename is Crybaby. He doesn't remember his original name so he doesn't answer to anything else.

His original name is Elias and he's Amias the yandere nurse's twin brother.

His codename supposedly comes from the mask he wears that looks like it's crying. He's actually really a crybaby.

He's really tall but very thin and lanky.

Because of his conditioning and brainwashing he has a very hard time remembering and keeping his head calm when he's not around you.

To make sure he doesn't hurt anyone who isn't you he's usually drugged on missions and during auctions. That's why he hallucinates your face on other people's bodies because it's what keeps him calm.

As a child he was part of the same research study to cure yanderes as his brother. Unlike his brother he wasn't very good at pretending to do what they wanted him to do so he was deemed a failure.

He has always been a very violent type of yandere and would attack anyone he thought was taking his mom or his brother away.

Because of his strength and lack of care for himself when fighting he was deemed a good candidate for the study to turn him into a weapon.

This is where you two eventually met and he almost immediately became obsessed with you. Now you have him trained so well he'll do anything you say even if it would hurt him.

Before every mission he is put through what is called "loyalty reaffirmation". Essentially he is forced to experience simulations of your death or you being taken away from him. This will usually result in him needing to be restrained so he'll often show up to missions already bruised.

He doesn't get much reprieve because he also goes through a lot of physical punishment to make sure he remains strong and resilient.

He does get to live with you and go to your house where he gets a small taste of normalcy.

You taught him how to read and write and do some basic math. He likes children's fairy tales about knights the most and he likes to think of himself as your knight.

He's really a big baby despite usually looking stoic. He gets into your arms and he immediately becomes a clingy needy baby. He'll hold onto you and glare at anyone who tries to talk to you.

You used to get in trouble for indulging his clingy behavior but he's a better fighter because of it.

His favorite food is hamburgers and he will ask for McDonald's for dinner a lot.

nsfw

He has an ungodly amount of stamina and libido. He doesn't understand why you get tired after 2 rounds he wouldn't even be tired after 5.

He's totally a masochist who enjoys when you inflict pain on him. But only if it's you. And even then he's still going to cry.

"Does it hurt?" "mhm..." "Do you want me to stop?" "nuh uh"

He's actually a pillow princess but he ends up riding you a lot because otherwise you quit too soon. But ideally he'd like to be buried face down in your pillows while you ravage him.

He likes to be pampered and overstimulated that's his favorite thing. If he's been especially good and he's getting a lot of praise he'll either ask for McDonald's or to be milked.

If you leave him at home alone he'll usually end up humping your pillows while he's crying out for you.

He's very desperate for your body and your touch. He'll ask for it even if you're in the middle of a meeting or you're doing something important. He'll sometimes get greedy while resting his head on your lap and start to try to touch you.

He knows he gets in trouble for those kinds of things so you have to wonder if he also wants to be punished sometimes.

You're not allowed to be the one to administer his actual punishments beyond supervising because apparently it had the opposite effect on his behavior. 🙄

His favorite pet names are doll, baby doll, and pretty boy but when you call him your princess it does something to him. It's one of the only times he'll tell you no.

If you let him he'll be very vocal during sex and tell you exactly what he wants. It's one of the few times he has any control in his life so he unintentionally started to really enjoy it.

[copperbadge]

Robbie Williams is playing Sydney NYE and I'm having the baffling experience of going from "oh, that's the musician Sam Copperbadge likes, don't know his music though" to "wait, *how* many of the Actually Good songs on my old boss's work playlist did this single guy make...?" And as I type this, there he goes again, damn. Is it fair that this one guy can write all those bangers *and* such good Instagram posts?

Right? He's a talented man, which you don't necessarily expect from a guy who was The Baby in a boy band when he was 16. But he's also been through some shit and like any artist he puts that into the work which makes it feel very sincere.

I mean he's also a real weirdo, but it feels like he embraces that too, he lives as sincerely as a guy that famous can live. And he wrote Go Gentle for his daughters, which I think speaks volumes about how seriously he takes his role as a dad. Which to me says a lot about the kind of man he is.

Don't waste time with the eedjits that think they're the hero

They will betray you -- stick with us weirdos

[requiemforthepoets]

it’s you that i’ve been waiting for, all of my life ⟢ LN4

final part of the crazy rich asians au ⟢ part one part two

PAIRINGS: lando norris x asian!female!reader

SUMMARY: with a lot of your family and friends are either getting engaged or married, it made you think about a lot of things—well, mostly marriage.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: non-use of y/n, reader is asian, foul language, traditional family, asian culture & tradition, food, crazy rich asians inspired + plot, heiress reader, named characters (except reader, names are mostly taken from CRA), social status, high society, mentions of marriage, reader having a wedding fever, fluff, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 9.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: finallyyyy, this is the last part of my crazy rich asians au. the rest of the updates for this series is already smaus—which will be updated sporadically. to all that read, commented, and reblogged, thank you so much from the bottom of my heart. tbh, i wasn’t even sure/confident with this three part series bc it was literally my first time writing this kind of fic, so thank you so much. as always, your reblogs/comments are highly appreciated, and i hope that you’ll enjoy this last part! also, happy new year, guys! 🥺❤️

You and Lando had just finished settling into your hotel, when your phone buzzed with an incoming facetime call from Nick. Surprised but not entirely shocked by his timing, you answered the call and held your phone up as you sat on the edge of the bed. Nick’s face appeared on the screen, expression tense and unusually serious.

“Hey, is Rachel with you right now?” he asked without preamble, tone laced with urgency.

You frowned, confused by the question. “No, she’s not,” you replied, glancing at Lando, who was sitting on the edge of the bef watching your conversation. “Lando and I already left Singapore earlier, we’re in Malaysia right now. Why? Is everything okay?”

Nick ran a hand through his hair, exhaling heavily before diving into the whole explanation. He told you and Lando about how your Auntie Eleanor had hired a private investigator to dig into Rachel’s background. Your stomach sank as he laid it all out—the dossier that your Auntie Eleanor had compiled, which included several Chinese news articles and missing person reports with Rachel’s mother’s photo. All these revelations had been shared with your Ah Ma at the wedding reception, and things had escalated from there.

You can slightly hear Nick’s voice trembling as he recounted how your Ah Ma had become mad and forbid Rachel from continuing her relationship with him, declaring that Rachel’s family background poses a threat to your family’s reputation. The words made your chest tighten, and you felt a mix of anger and sadness bubbling inside of you. Then it all started to make sense now—Rachel’s disoriented state, the way she fled from the reception without looking back.

“Wait,” you interjected, still processing everything. “Ah ma was at Colin and Minty’s wedding? I didn’t even see her, she rarely goes to events like that unless her presence is absolutely necessary.”

Nick nodded, confirming your thoughts. “She was there. It wasn’t planned for her to come, but I think Mom had managed to convince her.”

You sighed. “Well, that explained a lot. No wonder Rachel was running off like that, she must’ve been completely blindsided.”

He paused before continuing. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of her, but she’s not answering my calls or texts. I just—” he trailed off, his frustration evident.

Thinking quickly, you remembered something Rachel had mentioned in passing. “Maybe she’s staying at her best friend’s house? She told me once that she has a close friend in Singapore.”

Nick’s eyes lit up slightly. “That's a possibility. I’ll try to find out where her friend lives.”

“Do you need me to come back?” you asked, words spilling out before you could second-guess them. “Lan and I can fly back to Singapore tonight if you think it’ll help.” you glanced at Lando, who nodded in silent agreement.

He shook his head quickly. “No, no, don’t worry about it. I think I can handle it for now. But if Rachel answers your texts or calls, can you let me know right away?”

“Of course,” you said firmly. “I’ll text her again and keep you updated.”

“Thanks,” Nick said with a small, grateful smile.

“But hey, listen,” you said carefully, “if you find Rachel—in which I know that you will, you have to give her some time. Don’t push her, and don’t force anything.”

Nick was quiet on the other end, so you took it as a queue to continue. “She’s been blindsided, completely blindsided by all of it. Think about it, the information that Auntie Eleanor dumped on her, how it was thrown at her, none of it was easy for her to process. She didn’t even see it coming, and honestly, no one would’ve been ready for something like that.”

“I know,” Nick murmured. “But I just want to fix it. I want her to know that none of this changes how I feel about her.”

“I know you do,” you said gently. “But right now, Rachel needs space to process everything. Imagine if you’re in her shoes—finding out things about your family’s past in such a public and humiliating way. That kind of betrayal isn’t easy to shake off, especially when it comes out of nowhere.”

You paused, choosing your words carefully. “You have to be patient with her, Nick. Let her come to you when she’s ready. If you try to force her to talk or rush through it, it might just push her further away.”

There was another silence, then a resigned sigh from Nick. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I hate it, but you’re right. I just feel so useless sitting here, doing nothing.”

“Nicky, you’re not doing nothing,” you assured him. “The best thing you can do right now is respect her boundaries and be ready when she’s ready. Let her know you’re there, but don’t overwhelm her, and Nick…” you trailed off.

You briefly hesitated before adding, “Rachel was thrown into a pit of wolves. Our family, for all its grandeur and well, admit it or not, can be really cruel. She wasn’t prepared for it, but that’s not on her—it’s completely on us, and if you love her, you’ll help her navigate through it when she finally comes around.”

Nick’s voice softened. “I do love her, more than anything.”

“This might sound very cliché, but trust the process,” you said. “She’ll come back to you when she’s ready, and when she does, you’ll be there for her.”

“Thanks again,” he said quietly. “I really needed to hear that.”

“Anytime,” you replied. “Just keep me updated, okay? Don’t lose hope.”

“I won’t,” Nick promised.

“Alright, take care.” you said before ending the call.

As the screen went dark, you tossed your phone onto the bed with a sigh, staring at the ceiling in frustration. Your call to Rachel had gone straight to voicemail, and though you had sent her a message, you couldn’t shake the knot of worry in your chest. Flopping down beside your phone, you exhaled deeply. The fact that your Auntie Eleanor had gone so far as to hiring a private investigator made your blood boil. It was not just meddling—it felt invasive and cruel.

“Why?” you muttered to yourself, running a hand through your hair. “Why did she have to go that far?”

Lando glanced over you from where he was sitting, watching you silently for a moment before he laid down beside you on the bed.

“Hey,” he said softly, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s just…Auntie Eleanor. Why would she do something like that? Nick and Rachel were happy, and Ah Ma already liked Rachel, so why did she have to ruin it all? What does it even accomplish?” your voice wavered slightly as you spoke, your emotions bubbling to the surface.

Lando listened patiently, letting you vent. When you paused, he gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I get it,” he said gently. “It’s frustrating, and it’s not fair to Rachel. But you know Nick, he’s not going to give up on her just because of this. They’ll figure it out eventually.”

You looked at him, brows furrowed. “But what if they don’t? What if this just ruins everything?”

“It won’t,” he said firmly. “They’ve come this far, haven’t they? Something like this might take time to work through, but if they’re meant to be, they’ll find their way back to each other. You’ve got to believe in that.”

His words were calming, and you found yourself nodding slowly. “You’re right,” you said, though the knot in your chest didn’t fully loosen. “I just want them to have the happy ending they deserve.”

“And they will,” Lando assured you with a small smile. “But right now, you’ve got to focus on what you can control. We’re in Malaysia, come on, let’s enjoy our time. Relax, and take a breather from all the chaos back in Singapore.”

You gave Lando a weak smile, appreciating his efforts to make everything better. “Yeah, you’re right. We should make the most of it while we’re here.” pushing yourself off the bed, you glanced towards your suitcase. “We’ve got dinner plans later, don’t we?”

Lando grinned, standing up and holding out his hand to help you. “We do. Let’s go have a great night.”

You took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet, and smiled at him. “Alright.”

The first day in Malaysia began early, with the rising sun casting a soft golden glow as you and Lando set off for George Town in Penang. The drive was long, roughly about four hours from Kuala Lumpur, where you’re staying, but the journey was as much a part of the adventure as the destination. Lando was behind the wheel, where one of his hands was steady on the wheel, and his other free hand was laced on your fingers. His eyes occasionally darted towards you while you admired the scenery as you passed by.

“So,” he started, glancing at you with a teasing smile, “are you going to be my personal tour guide for the day?”

You grinned, looking at him. “Of course.”

When you arrived, George Town immediately swept you off of your feet. The streets were alive with so much color and culture, with the British colonial buildings standing gracefully alongside vibrant Chinese shophouses and intricate mosques. The air smelled of spices and street food, and the chatter of locals filled the space with a sense of warmth and energy.

“Look at that one,” he said, pulling you gently toward a painting of a little boy riding a bicycle. “We have to take a photo here.”

Lando pulled out his camera and posed next to the mural, with a wide grin on his face. “Your turn, come on,” he said after snapping his photo, motioning for you to take his place. “Hold on,” he gestured for you to pose in front of the mural. You rolled your eyes playfully but obliged to his request, striking a simple pose.

“Perfect,” he said as he snapped the photo before lowering the camera. “Though the real thing’s better than the photo,” he added cheekily, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on your cheek.

“Smooth,” you teased, shaking your head but smiling nonetheless.

You wandered through the streets hand in hand, occasionally stopping every so often to admire the architecture of the small shops selling everything ranging from antiques to handmade crafts. At one point, Lando pulled you into a quiet alley where a local artist was painting a new mural. He tilted his head, examining the work.

“Think I could pull something like this off?” he joked, referring to the mural’s intricate design.

“Absolutely not,” you replied, laughing. “But I’d pay good money to watch you try.”

The day would not have been complete without food. You introduced Lando to char kway teow, a flavorful stir-fried noodle dish. He took his first bite, his expression shifting from curiosity to delight.

“Okay, this is incredible,” he said, nodding enthusiastically as he went for another bite.

“You have a good taste,” you replied, stealing a noodle from his plate.

“You mean you have a good taste,” he corrected.

The day continued like that—strolling, laughing, stealing kisses, and taking photos. Every corner of George Town seemed to hold a story, and every moment felt like it was just for the two of you.

As the sun began to set, the sky turned a warm orange, and Lando snapped one final photo. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget today,” he said softly, looking at you instead of the view.

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Me neither.”

The second day began with the sun streaming through your window, casting a warm glow over the start of what you knew would be an unforgettable day. After breakfast, you and Lando set off for Paradise 101 in Langkawi, a private island that promised a perfect blend of adventure and relaxation, and just an hour away.

As soon as you stepped onto the island, the soft sound of the waves lapping against the shore and the salty breeze filled your senses. Lando reached out for your hand, giving it a light squeeze he looked out at the clear blue sky.

“Ready for some adventure?” he asked with a contagious smile.

“Always,” you replied, already feeling the excitement bubbling up.

The first activity on the list was parasailing, something you had always wanted to try. Strapped into the harness side by side, the instructor began counting down, and then, the boat picked up speed, lifting you and Lando off the ground, soaring above the waters. The world below looks so tiny, and the ocean stretches endlessly beneath your feet.

“This is insane!” Lando shouted over the wind.

You turned your head to look at him, his expression lit up with excitement. “Right? Look at that amazing view!” you replied, pointing towards the horizon where the ocean met the sky.

“Look something out of the painting,” then glancing at you, there was a mischievous glint in Lando’s eyes. “Though the view isn’t half as good as the one next to me.”

You laughed, swatting at him lightly. “You’re such a cheeky little shit.”

When your feet touched the sand again, Lando was already pulling you toward the ziplining station. The zipline took you across the island’s canopy, and each time you landed, Lando was there waiting, stealing quick kisses before moving to the next line.

“Race you to the bottom,” Lando challenged, a mischievous smile lighting up his face.

“Oh, you’re on,” you replied, determined.

As the two of you zipped down, the wind whipping past, the sound of your laughter had filled the air. Lando had beaten you to the bottom, of course, but he immediately pulled you into a hug when you joined him, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

The afternoon was reserved for a private yacht cruise, just the two of you. As the boat glided through the calm waters of Langkawi’s northern coast, you couldn’t help but marvel at the picturesque coastline, with the emerald-green water shimmering under the sun.

“Perfect, isn’t it?” Lando asked, leaning back beside you, his sunglasses perched on his nose.

“Perfect,” you agreed, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his.

“You know,” he began, “we should bring the others here sometimes. They’d love this.”

“I was just thinking the same thing,” you replied, looking at him. “Though I kind of like it being just us right now.”

“Me too,” he said, voice soft, brushing a kiss on your forehead.

You decided to give kayaking a try, but knowing Lando, it probably would be a chaotic one. “You’re paddling the wrong way, babe!” you exclaimed as Lando’s oar splashed water everywhere. “Are you sure you know how to paddle?”

“Of course I do!” he argued.

Lando was just kept on paddling in circles, the kayak even refused to cooperate—or so he claimed.

“Babe! You’re just steering us into circles. You’re doing it wrong!” you called out, grinning mischievously.

“I’m not—hold on, are you gaslighting me right now?” he accused, realizing your game.

“I would never!” you said, feigning innocence.

Lando almost toppled over the kayak trying to adjust, and you couldn’t contain your laughter. But eventually, you found your rhythm, paddling side by side through the tranquil waters.

“Okay, maybe this teamwork thing isn’t so bad after all,” he admitted, voice softer now.

“You think?” you teased, glancing at him with a smile.

The highlight of the day came with the private UNESCO Geopark mangrove cruise. You and Lando had been transferred to a small explorer boat, where you were taken through a landscape that felt almost otherworldly. Sheer limestone cliffs rose majestically from the water, their forms resembling ancient temples.

“This is incredible,” Lando murmured, voice tinged with awe as he leaned over the side of the boat.

You nodded, eyes fixed on the towering cliffs. “It feels like we’ve stepped into another world.”

The guide led you through the Tanjung Rhu River, Kisap River, and Kilim River, each stretch offering breathtaking views. At one point, you visited a fish farm and even ventured into the crocodile and bat cave, marveling at the natural formations.

When the cruise ended, the day slowly gave way to evening, and you returned to the resort. Lando had made a reservation for an outdoor dinner at the resort’s restaurant, with the table set against the backdrop of the sparkling Andaman Sea.

You were sitting right across from Lando, the soft glow of the setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink. ��Today was really perfect,” you said, voice warm.

Lando reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “Well, that’s because I spent it with you.”

“To more days like this,” you said, raising your glass with your free hand.

“To more days with you,” Lando replied, raising his glass as well.

The waves whispered against the shore as you clink your glasses together, ending the amazing fun filled day in the most serene and beautiful way imaginable.

On the third day, which is your last day in Malaysia, felt like the perfect opportunity to slow down and enjoy a more relaxed pace with Lando. After having your breakfast at the hotel’s restaurant, you decided to explore Kuala Lumpur together and do some shopping, mostly picking out Christmas gifts for family and friends. Your first stop was Cartier, where the staff immediately recognized you and Lando as you entered the boutique.

“Welcome back,” one of them greeted warmly. “Please, follow us to the VIP room.”

The room was elegant and private, with plush seating and pristine glass displays showcasing Cartier’s finest collections. You scanned the displays carefully, selecting gifts that felt personal and meaningful. From time to time, you would turn to Lando for his opinion, holding a piece to show it to him.

“What do you think of this one, love?” you asked, turning a bracelet in your hands.

Lando leaned in to get a closer look, studying it for a brief moment. “It’s nice, but maybe this design suits them better,” he suggested, pointing to another piece that has more classic finish to it.

His input was reassuring, and you found yourself smiling more with every choice you made. So piece by piece, you finalized your selections and decided to have each of it engraved with the names. While the staff began the engraving process, you took the opportunity to explore the display cases further.

Your eyes fell on the iconic Love rings, their sleek designs catching the light. The delicate design, with its understated elegance and signature screw motif had drawn you in immediately. You paused, gazing at them a little longer than you had intended. They were very stunning, and the thought of having matching ones with Lando crept into your mind.

For a moment, you let your mind wander. The thought of having matching Love rings with Lando made your heart flutter. It would be such a sweet symbol of your relationship, a quiet nod to the love you shared. But as quickly as the thought came, doubt crept in. Would he even want to wear something like that? You had only been together for a year, and while your relationship felt deep and serious, you weren’t even sure if he’d see it the same way.

“Miss?” the associate’s voice gently pulled you back to the present. “The items have been engraved and wrapped. Would you like us to send them directly to your hotel?”

You smiled, nodding. “Yes, please. That would be perfect. We still have some plans for the day.”

The associate assured you that everything would be taken care of. You thanked them again and turned to Lando, who was casually leaning against the counter, watching you with an easy smile. What you didn’t realize was that he had caught the way your gaze lingered on the Love rings earlier. But he decided not to say anything, only offering you his hand as the two of you prepared to leave.

“Ready to go?” he asked, voice gentle.

“Yes, let’s go,” you replied, sliding your hand into his.

As you both left the store hand in hand, the shopping bags destined for your hotel, Lando’s mind was already working, his thoughts drifting back to the love rings and making a mental note.

Finally, Dior was your final stop, and as you stepped into the elegantly designed VIP room, the ambiance felt as refined and luxurious as always. The staff greeted you warmly, offering refreshments and giving you a moment to settle in before showing you all of the latest collections.

You browsed through the items thoughtfully, then occasionally turning to Lando for his input, yet again, on potential gifts and personal picks. He followed you closely, hands tucked casually in his pockets, his easy demeanor adding a comfortable balance.

As you admired a pair of beautiful heels, Lando leaned in slightly, tone light but teasing. “You know your luggage is already packed to the brim, right?”

You paused mid-reach, blinking at him as his words sank in. “Wait…really?”

He nodded, trying to suppress a grin. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’d have to sit on it just to zip it up.”

With the sudden realization, you glanced back at the shelves, and you turned to the sales associate with a smile. “Do you have any luggage available in stock?”

The associate’s face lit up. “We do, actually! Let me bring it out for you.”

As the associate disappeared into the back, Lando let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “Only you would come shopping for gifts and leave with luggage to carry it all.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging his arm. “Well, if you’re going to go shopping, might as well do it properly.”

The associate soon returned, rolling out a sleek Dior luggage piece in a design you hadn’t seen before that caught your attention immediately. Its understated design and impeccable craftsmanship stood out, and you took a moment to examine it closely.

“This is perfect,” you said decisively, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. “I’ll take it. I don’t have one in this design yet, so it’ll be a great addition.”

Lando chuckled softly beside you as you made your way to the counter. When the associate had totaled the purchase, he casually pulled out his black card and handed it over, placing it on the counter.

“Here, I’ve got this,” he said smoothly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small grin.

“No,” you reached into your bag without hesitation, pulling out your own black card and handing it to the associate directly. “I’m paying for this, please. It’s my shopping.”

The associate glanced between the two of you, clearly confused and trying to decide whose card to take. You were sure that the associate would take your card, so you focused briefly on a nearby display of handbags, thinking which designs might fit into your collection. While you were distracted, Lando seized the opportunity.

“Swipe it on mine,” he said quietly, giving the associate a quick, reassuring nod.

By the time you turned your attention back, the transaction was already complete, and the staff were carefully packing the luggage and other items into Dior’s signature paper bags.

“What just happened?” you asked, narrowing your eyes slightly as Lando smiles cheekily at you.

“Nothing, babe,” he replied, tone far too innocent to be convincing. “Just making sure you’re not overworking your card today.”

You sighed, half-exasperated but mostly amused. “You’re impossible.”

“Just making sure your new luggage is properly christened,” he teased.

Shaking your head with a small smile, you turned back to the associate and asked, “would it be possible to have everything be delivered to our hotel? We’ve got a dinner reservation coming up, and it would be easier if we didn’t have to carry all this.”

“Of course, Miss,” they replied, nodding. “We’ll ensure everything is delivered promptly.”

“Thank you,” you said warmly before turning back to Lando. “Ready to go?”

Lando placed a hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards the exit. “Let’s go.”

By the time you stepped out of Dior, the soft glow of dusk had already begun to settle over the city, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The streets were alive with the hum of evening traffic, but your thoughts were focused on the dinner reservation at Akar Dining.

The drive to the restaurant was peaceful, with Lando’s hand resting on your thigh as the car navigated the streets. You arrived just in time, the warm ambiance of the restaurant immediately wrapping around you as you stepped inside, the host greeted you and guided you to your table. Lando, ever the gentleman, pulled out your chair, his hand lingering briefly on the back of it as you sat down.

“Thank you,” you murmured with a small smile, adjusting the hem of your dress as you settled in.

Lando took his seat across from you just as a waiter approached your table with the menus. The dimly lit atmosphere, paired with the sophisticated decor had made the evening feel intimate and special. As you scanned the menu, your eyes immediately caught a few dishes you knew you would enjoy, while Lando appeared slightly less certain.

“So, what are you thinking of getting?” you asked, glancing up from your menu to find him frowning slightly.

“Honestly?” he set the menu down for a moment, leaning back in his chair. “Most of these seafood dishes aren’t really my thing.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “It’s fine, just pick something else. You don’t have to love everything on the menu.”

Eventually, he decided on the braised aged duck, and you ordered a seafood dish that intrigued you. As you waited for the food, you took a sip of your water, your gaze lingering on Lando. The memory of what happened at Dior earlier was still fresh in your mind, and you decided to address it.

“By the way,” you began, setting your glass down. “Thank you for paying earlier at Dior, but you really didn’t have to, Lan.”

Lando shrugged casually, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Of course I did. You shouldn’t have to pay for something when I’m right here.”

You sighed lightly, tilting your head at him. “Lan, I can pay for my own things. I don’t want to rely on you all the time, especially when it’s my shopping.”

“I know you can,” he replied, tone soft but firm. “But that doesn’t mean I want you to. It’s not about whether you can afford it—it’s about me wanting to take care of you.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with a playful grin. “And before you argue, I’m not budging on this.”

“Well, if you’re so insistent on paying for everything,” you said, leaning forward slightly, “then at least let me pay for dinner tonight.”

“Not happening, love,” he said simply, leaning back in his chair with an air of finality.

“Lando,” you started, but the waiter returned just then with your food, momentarily halting the conversation.

As you both began to eat, you couldn’t help but glance at him occasionally, trying to come up with a way to outmaneuver him when the bill comes. Lando seemed thoroughly engrossed in his braised aged duck, nodding approvingly after the first few bites.

“This is actually really good,” he remarked, gesturing to his plate with his fork.

“It was worth the try,” you said with a satisfied smile, enjoying your own meal.

When the plates were cleared, the waiter had returned with the bill, and you reached for it instinctively, smiling as you’re about to get a hand on it, but to your dismay, Lando was faster. He snatched it from the waiter’s hand with a smoothness that left you momentarily stunned, his card already out and ready. Without a word, he placed it on the bill and handed it back to the waiter before you could even blink.

“Lando Norris!” you hissed, voice a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “I told you I was paying for dinner.”

“And I told you that you’re not,” he replied, tone calm and unbothered.

You stared at him, incredulous. “You can’t keep doing this. I have my own money, you know. I don’t need you to pay for everything, my love.”

“I know you don’t,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “But I wanted to. A gentleman never let his woman pay. End of story.”

“But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted gently, gaze soft but resolute. “I know that you’re independent, and I love that about you. But letting me take care of you every now and then doesn’t make you any less independent.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “At some point, you have to let me pay too. I don’t want to feel like I’m relying on you for everything.”

“I get that. But tonight isn’t the point,” he said, as his thumb gently caressed your knuckles and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “Letting me take care of you once in a while doesn’t mean you’re relying on me. It just means that I love you.”

Your heart softened at his words, the sincerity in his voice melting away your objections. “Fine,” you murmured, though a playful edge crept into your tone. “But one day, you’re letting me pay for something. Mark my words.”

Lando chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a wide grin. “We’ll see about that.”

After an amazing dinner, you were finally back in your hotel. The moment you stepped inside the room, the exhaustion from the day’s adventures hit you like a wave. You slipped off your sandals with a sigh of relief, placed your bag on the vanity, and immediately collapsed onto the plush bed, letting the softness swallow you whole. Lando was not far behind, shutting the door with a soft click before walking over to where you lay sprawled out. He chuckled as he kicked off his sneakers, tossing them aside without any care.

“You look absolutely done,” he teased, voice laced with affection.

Without another word, he climbed onto the bed beside you, his arms snaking around your waist as he pulled you close. You didn’t protest, in fact, you just melted into his embrace—his warmth and familiar scent of his cologne instantly soothing your tired muscles.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” you murmured lazily, though you made no effort to move. “We still need to pack for tomorrow. I need to arrange the things we bought today inside the new luggage.”

Lando nuzzled his face into your neck, his breath warm against your skin. “Mhmm…packing can wait.” he said as he kissed your collarbone. “I just want to stay like this for a bit. It’s been such a good trip.”

You smiled faintly, tilting your head slightly to rest against his. “It really has. I think this was exactly what we needed, huh? Just us, no distractions.”

“Uh huh. No meetings, no interruptions…” Lando added with a sigh, tightening his hold on you. “I wish we could stay longer. Feels like I’ve barely scratched the surface here.”

You laughed softly. “You’re the one who extended our stay by an extra day. If we keep this up, we might not even make it to the UK in time for Christmas.”

He groaned dramatically, pulling you even closer. “Fine, you win. We’ll leave tomorrow, but I’m telling you, we’re coming back here next year.”

“Alright,” you replied, voice muffle as you buried your face in his chest.

For a few moments, neither of you spoke, content to lie tangled in each other’s arms as the city lights outside cast a faint glow into the hotel room.

“Okay, okay,” you finally said, breaking the peaceful silence. “We really need to pack, babe. I’m not about to start throwing things into a suitcase at five in the morning.”

He groaned again but rolled over, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “How about I do the packing, and you stay here looking all pretty?”

“Absolutely not,” you replied, swatting his arm lightly. “If you pack, I’ll end up with half my things missing and thrown with wrinkles.”

Lando laughed, sitting up and pulling you up with him. “Alright, fine. Let’s get it over with, but you owe me cuddles afterwards.”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you slid off of the bed. “Deal. Now, let’s get moving before you start whining again.”

He grinned, grabbing his suitcase and tossing it onto the bed with enthusiasm. “You know me so very well.”

As you were neatly folding a dress and placing it neatly in your suitcase, your phone rang, cutting through the quiet hum of activity in the hotel room. You glanced at the screen and saw Nick’s caller ID flashing. Your eyes immediately widened, and your stomach sank slightly—you had completely pushed aside the chaos from earlier in Singapore.

“Nicky,” you murmured, picking up the phone and quickly answering. Lando glanced up from his own packing, curious.

The moment the call connected, Nick’s face filled your screen, grinning from ear to ear. Before you could say anything, he shouted out, “WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!”

Your jaw dropped, and your heart leapt. “WHAT?!” you screamed, startling Lando, who immediately moved closer to check. “Oh my god! Nicky, are you serious?!”

Nick nodded excitedly, his smile growing wider. “Yes! I proposed to Rachel earlier, and she said yes! We’re getting married!”

A loud scream of happiness escaped you, and grabbed both Lando’s hands and jumped up and down, causing Lando to follow your lead, with you chanting ‘Nick and Rachel are getting married’ a couple of times. Both of you jumping like you’re in a cult, chanting to summon something.

“Nicky, this is amazing news! I’m so happy for you and Rachel! Oh my god, I’m going to cry!” you said, nearly dropping your phone in the process.

Lando laughed and leaned into the frame, resting a hand on your waist. “Congratulations, mate! That’s incredible news!”

“Thanks, man!” Nick said, grinning even wider. He turned back to you, clearly eager to share more details. “Mom finally came around, and she gave me the emerald ring to propose with. I actually chased Rachel to the airport, it turns out she was about to leave, already inside the plane and I just dropped on one knee and proposed to her. You should’ve seen Rachel’s face when I pulled out the ring, she was so shocked.”

You clutched your chest dramatically. “Nick, that’s so beautiful. I’m so, so happy for you both.”

Nick chuckled, his excitement very evident. “But wait, there’s more. I’m throwing a surprise engagement party for Rachel tomorrow night, and I need you both there. Please say you can come.”

You glanced over at Lando, your eyes silently asking if he was okay with changing plans. Lando, ever the supportive boyfriend that he is, nodded without any hesitation.

“We’re both in,” you said to Nick. “We’ll fly back to Singapore tomorrow.”

Nick let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you! I can’t wait to see you both, and don’t worry, it won’t be a massive party, just a small gathering of close friends and family.”

“We will not miss it,” you assured him. “But just so you know, we’ll have to leave right after the party. We’re expected in the UK before Christmas.”

“Fair enough,” Nick said, still beaming. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow then, and thank you, both of you, for being there for us.”

“Of course,” you replied, voice soft with emotion. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

After ending the call, you turned to Lando, who was smiling at your obvious joy. “Looks like we’re making another detour,” you said with a laugh.

“Well, wouldn’t have it any other way,” Lando replied, pulling you into a quick hug before returning to his packing.

The flight from Malaysia to Singapore passed quickly, only an hour long. You and Lando had decided to leave in the afternoon to allow yourselves some extra time to relax before the engagement party. By the time the private jet touched down at a private tarmac in Changi Airport, the sky had shifted to a warm, dusky hue.

You were already dressed for the event, adjusting the hem of your dress as you prepared to disembark. Your outfit for tonight complimented Lando’s outfit perfectly, a choice you both had coordinated without much effort. Deciding not to take your belongings off of the jet since you would be leaving Singapore immediately after the party. Taking one final glance at the jet’s sleek interior, you then stepped out.

Lando walked beside you, his hand firmly holding yours as he guided you down the steps of the jet. The heels you wore, though elegant, weren’t exactly forgiving, and his grip gave you the balance you needed. Once you reached the car waiting on the tarmac, he moved ahead, opening the door for you.

“Careful, love,” he murmured, holding out a hand to help you inside.

You gave Lando a small smile as you slid into the seat, careful not to wrinkle your dress. He followed right after, shutting the car door behind him. The soft hum of the car engine filled up the space as the vehicle pulled away, heading towards Marina Bay Sands. You then leaned into Lando slightly.

“You know,” Lando began with a playful smirk, “I think we’ve spent more time in Singapore lately than in Monaco.”

You laughed softly. “Tell me about it. It looks like we’ll be back here again sooner rather than later for Nick and Rachel’s wedding.”

He tilted his head in mock resignation. “I guess I’d better get used to the humidity then.”

“Oh come on,” you gave him a teasing nudge. “You’ve survived it so far. Besides, you look so good here, very tropical chic.”

Lando chuckled, resting his hand on yours. “Thanks, love. But seriously, it feels like everyone’s getting married or engaged all of a sudden. What’s with the December air.”

You sighed dramatically. “Tell me about it. First Colin and Minty, now Nick and Rachel, also don’t forget about my friend from Parsons! She’s getting married in Moscow next year and has already sent in the invitation.”

“Moscow, huh?” he mused. “Another flight for us?”

You glanced at him with a small smile. “If you want to come with me, that is. I don’t want to pressure you into attending all these weddings, I know that it can be really tiring.”

Lando tilted his head, pretending to think it over. “Moscow, a wedding, and a chance to see you again in another dress? Sounds like a total dream, so it’s a yes for me.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging his arm. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love every bit of it,” he quipped, grinning.

As the car drove on, your thoughts began to drift. Weddings, engagements, proposals—it seemed like everyone around you was taking those big steps. You didn’t want to admit it, but that idea of marriage had been creeping into your mind more and more lately. It was not something you wanted to bring up, not yet, but still, it is a topic that had been occupying your mind.

You shook off the feeling, focusing instead on the city lights beginning to twinkle outside the car window. “Yeah, and I think that we’re going to need a bigger calendar,” you joked.

Lando laughed, resting a hand on your knee. “As long as you’re on it, I don’t mind.”

The car rolled to a smooth stop at the grand entrance of Marina Bay Sands, with the city lights reflecting off the sleek glass facade. The chauffeur had exited first, circling around to open your door, and before you could step out, Lando was already at your side, extending a hand to help you out of the car.

“I’ll be here at the agreed time to take you back to the airport, ma’am.” the chauffeur said as he tipped his hat.

“Thank you,” you replied with a polite smile.

Lando intertwined your hands, and you both began walking towards the entrance. The evening air was warm, and the energy surrounding the iconic building was palpable. A few people by the lobby immediately recognized Lando, and their eyes widened when they noticed you by his side.

“Excuse me,” a young woman asked hesitantly, clutching her phone. “Would it be alright if I can get a quick photo with you both?”

Lando exchanged glances with you and nodded warmly. “Of course, just a quick one.”

You stepped aside with him, pausing for a few photos, each person thanking you both profusely afterwards. Once the small crowd dispersed, you and Lando resumed your walk, making your way to the elevators that would take you to the sky deck. The elevator ride was smooth and swift, and when the doors opened, the familiar faces of your family, Nick’s closest friends, and your cousins scattered throughout the beautifully decorated space.

As your eyes scanned the crowd, you spotted your mother first. She stood near one of the seating areas, speaking animatedly with one of your aunts. You guided Lando over, and her expression shifted to surprise the moment she saw you both.

“Darling!” your mother exclaimed, pulling you into a tight embrace.

“Hi, Mom,” you greeted, smiling warmly before stepping aside so Lando could greet her.

Your mother opened her arms invitingly. “Lando, come here.”

Lando hugged her briefly but warmly, a soft laugh escaping him. “Hello, Auntie. It’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” your mother replied, taking a step back to look at you both. “I thought you’d already be in the UK by now.” she said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“We were supposed to leave after the day after the wedding,” you explained, “but we decided to make a quick stop in Malaysia for a few days. Then Nicky called last night and asked us to come, so here we are.”

She smiled knowingly. “Always the supportive cousin. But you’re leaving tonight?”

“Yes, the jet is on standby at the airport,” you confirmed. “We’ll head straight there after the party.”

Your mother nodded in satisfaction, and gave Lando a pat on the shoulder. “Well, you enjoy yourselves tonight. It’s a rare sight to see you two so relaxed.”

You and Lando exchanged a small smile before moving on to greet Colin and Araminta, who were just chatting near the champagne table.

“Hey!” Colin greeted, giving you both a hug. “I didn’t think we’d see you two again so soon.”

“Neither did we,” you replied with a laugh. “But here we are.”

You turned to Araminta, who hugged you warmly, then stepped back, smiling brightly. “It’s so good to see you again, and Lando, of course! You’re becoming quite the fixture at family events!”

Lando grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Colin smirked. “At this rate, uncle’s going to give him the talk soon, if he hasn’t already. Then we all know whose wedding we’ll be attending soon after Nick and Rachel’s.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Too late, Dad already gave him the talk, and even Ah Ma had given her blessing.”

Lando grinned, playing along. “Proud to say that I’ve passed all the tests by now.”

Araminta gasped dramatically, nudging Colin. “See? It’s official now. We’ll start saving the date!”

The four of you exchanged pleasantries and some laughs for a few moments before your attention was drawn to a surprising sight. Standing by the bar were none other than Bernard and Kitty, a pair you had not expected to see here at all. You caught Lando’s eye, and he gave you a subtle shrug, clearly just as a surprise.

Shaking it off, you turned your focus back, making your way toward your aunts. Auntie Alix, Auntie Eleanor, and Auntie Jacqueline, who were all chatting in a tight circle. You approached with Lando by your side, greeting each of them in turn with a polite kiss on the cheek and a warm smile.

“Ah, you’re here!” your Auntie Alix smiled. “I thought you were in the UK already.”

“Nick called,” you explained with a smile, “so here we are.”

“Well, we’re glad you made it,” your Auntie Jacqueline chimed in, “and you’re glowing tonight.” she added, her gaze flitting between you and Lando.

“Must be the Malaysian sun,” Lando jokes, earning a soft laugh from the group.

Your Auntie Eleanor gave Lando a sharp but playful look. “You’re certainly making yourself comfortable with this family, aren’t you?”

Lando smiled politely. “I’m just trying to keep up,” satisfied with his answer, your Auntie Eleanor waved you off with a chuckle.

Nick and Rachel hadn’t arrived yet, so you and Lando decided to take the opportunity to mingle with other guests. The evening was lively, with laughter and champagne flowing freely.

Several guests had approached you and Lando for photos, and you obliged, posing with ease. Lando kept a hand on your lower back, guiding you smoothly through the crowd as you moved from one group to another.

From across the room, you noticed your cousin Oliver weaving his way through the crowd, a bright smile on his face as he head towards you. As he approached, you and Lando turned to greet him.

“Oliver!” you said warmly, pulling him into a quick hug.

“Hey you two,” he said, giving you both a smile before continuing. “I want to introduce you to Rachel’s best friend. She’s dying to meet you.”

Curious, you exchanged a glance with Lando before agreeing. “Of course! Lead the way.”

Following Oliver, you navigated through the elegantly dressed guests until you stopped in front of a small group of people.

“Here we are,” Oliver said, motioning toward a striking woman with a vibrant smile. “This is Rachel’s best friend, Goh Peik Lin.”

You extended your hand toward her. “Peik Lin, it’s so nice to meet you!”

Peik Lin shook your hand warmly. “And it’s so nice to meet you as well!”

Your gaze traveled briefly over her outfit, a beautifully tailored dress that exuded elegance and sophistication. “I have to say, your outfit is incredible. You have such impeccable taste.”

Her smile widened, excitement evident. “Oh stop, you’re going to make me blush! But thank you, it means a lot coming from someone as stylish as you.”

Oliver then turned to the older couple standing beside Peik Lin. “And these are Peik Lin’s parents, Goh Wye Mun and Goh Nenna.”

You offered a polite smile as you greeted them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both, Mr. and Mrs. Goh.”

Nenna’s eyes sparkled as she took your hand. “Just call us Auntie Nenna and Uncle Wye Mun! And my goodness, you’re even more gorgeous in person! I’ve seen photos of you, and they don’t do you justice! You’re very stunning, my dear!”

You laugh softly, feeling a light warmth rise to your cheeks. “You’re too kind, Auntie Nenna. Thank you so much.”

Then you turned to Wye Mun, whose expression shifted slightly as recognition dawned on him. He tilted his head, studying you for a moment.

“You’re one of Harrison Sr. and Elizabeth Young’s children, aren’t you? Their only daughter,” he said, tone a mixture of surprise and admiration.

You nodded, smiling. “That’s right. I’ve heard of your family before as well. If my memory serves me right, you’re the owner of Goh Developments, correct? One of Singapore’s most successful real estate companies?”

Wye Mun chuckled, clearly pleased. “Yes, that’s about right. I’m flattered you know about us.”

“Of course!” you said. “Your company’s work is extraordinary. Some of your developments are architectural masterpieces.”

The brief exchange shifted naturally into a short discussion about real estate, with Wye Mun enthusiastically sharing tidbits about recent projects. Peik Lin listened intently, Oliver and Lando conversing with each other, while Nenna just watched the whole conversation with a smile.

You then gestured towards Lando afterwards, who had been standing quietly beside you. “Allow me to introduce to you my boyfriend, Lando.”

Lando extended his hand towards Wye Mun, who shook it firmly. Wye Mun’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Ah, Lando Norris! I watched you win the Singapore GP last September. Quite an incredible race, I must say. You’ve got some serious talent.”

“Thank you so much,” Lando said with a polite smile. “It was an unforgettable race for sure.”

“And I didn’t know that you were dating the darling of the Singaporean social elite!” Wye Mun added with a playful tone, eyes twinkling.

“Oh Wye Mun, look at them!” Nenna interjected, her gaze moving between you and Lando. “They look so good together, a very beautiful couple. Perfect match!”

Wye Mun nodded in agreement, tone light. “Quite the power couple, I’d say.”

You couldn’t help but smile at their comment, glancing at Lando, who was already looking at you with a soft expression. “Thank you,” you replied simply.

The conversation continued easily, with the group exchanging stories and laughs. The atmosphere was warm, and you felt genuinely pleased to meet Rachel’s best friend and their family.

As the buzz of conversation faded into hushed whispers, Araminta stepped forward with a smile and announced, “Nick and Rachel are on their way up now! Everyone, take your positions.”

You and Lando stood slightly off to the side, his hand on your waist, caressing it softly and tracing shapes. The elegant lighting of the sky deck reflected off the cityscape, casting a soft glow over the gathered guests.

Lando leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “You know,” he whispered, tone teasing, “it was so hot watching you talk business with Wye Mun earlier. You looked so serious and confident.”

You glanced at him, barely suppressing a smile, and gave his chest a soft slap. “Stop being cheeky right now, Norris,” you muttered, keeping your voice low to avoid drawing any attention.

But it looks like Lando was not done yet. He grinned at you mischievously, his voice dipping lower. “I mean it, baby. The way you talked about developments and projects? Very impressive, very attractive.”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks warmed slightly. “Lando,” you whispered warningly, “behave. This is not the time.”

He bit back a chuckle, amusement evident. “Fine, fine. But you should know, I can’t help it when you’re like that.”

You shushed him quietly, your finger briefly brushing his lips. “Quiet now,” you insisted softly, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention.

As you returned your focus to the party, your thoughts flicked back to your earlier conversation with Wye Mun. Real estate development has always intrigued you—the intricacies, potential, and stories behind every project. It was not just a polite conversation, it was a chance to learn and build connections.

“Besides,” you murmured to Lando, keeping your tone casual, “it’s always good to broaden your network. Even if I already have so many, there’s no harm in widening the circle.”

Lando nodded, his expression now a mix of curiosity and pride. “Well, you’ve got a point,” he said softly.

You let your eyes wander across the crowd, noting a few familiar faces mingling among the guests. “This place is full of businesspeople—major players in the industry, tonight,” you whispered to him. “I can recognize a few who could even be potential sponsors for McLaren.” Lando raised a brow at you, intrigued.

You turned to him, giving him a playful wink. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll help you land a deal or two.”

Lando smirked, leaning in closer to you again. “Now that,” he said, tone low and teasing, “is a kind of teamwork I can get behind.”

The sky deck fell in a hush as everyone stood in their positions, waiting for Nick and Rachel’s arrival. The atmosphere was buzzing, a mix of excitement and happiness among the crowd. The distant hum of the elevator announced their approach, and then, with a soft chime, doors slid open.

Nick stepped out first, his hands gently covering Rachel’s eyes as he carefully guided her forward into the middle of the crowd. Rachel, her posture both curious and expectant, laughed lightly, clearly amused by the surprise. The whole crowd held its collective breath, watching as Nick finally removed his hands from Rachel’s eyes.

The second her eyes opened, the silence of the crowd was replaced with an eruption of cheers and applause. Screams of happiness echoed across the sky deck, led enthusiastically by Colin and Araminta. Rachel’s expression had transformed into one of pure, radiant happiness as she took sight of everyone gathered for her. Overwhelmed with emotion, she raised her hand, showing off the stunning emerald ring that sparkled under the lights, then pointing to it with a grin.

People surged forward, surrounding Nick and Rachel with hugs and congratulations. You and Lando joined in with the crowd, your laughter blending with everyone else’s as you approached the newly engaged couple.

“Congratulations!” you said, beaming as you hugged Rachel tightly. “I’m so happy for you both.”

Nick grinned, pulling you into a quick hug as well. “Thank you for being here. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

Lando shook Nick’s hand before giving Rachel a warm hug. “You two are perfect for each other.”

Nick, ever the joker, glanced between you and Lando, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You know,” he began, tone playful, “I have a strong feeling you two might be the next one.”

Rachel, catching on, nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, absolutely! We’ll have to start planning your engagement party real soon.”

You and Lando exchanged amused looks, chuckling. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” you replied, though your heart skipped a beat at the thought.

As much as you adored Nick and Rachel, you did not need them adding more fuel to the fire—you were already simmering with wedding fever.

After the flood of congratulations, Nick took Rachel’s hand and gently guided her attention towards the infinity pool, where a group of synchronized swimmers began an elegant performance, their movements perfectly timed to the music. Rachel gasped softly, her eyes lighting up with wonder as she watched.

Then, from the corner of our eye, you noticed Rachel spotting your Auntie Eleanor standing a little way off. For a brief moment, the noise and excitement seemed to face as the two women exchanged a look, one of understanding and newfound respect. The warmth in Rachel’s smile and the subtle nod from your Auntie Eleanor spoke volumes. It filled your heart with joy to see that your aunt had finally come around, embracing Rachel in the way she deserved.

Nick then pulled Rachel into a tender kiss, earning a round of applause and cheers again from the crowd. Lando stepped behind you, wrapping his arms securely around your waist, holding you close. His chin rested lightly on your shoulder, and you could feel his warmth radiating through you.

The sound of fireworks exploding above pulled everyone’s attention upward. Bright colors lit up the sky, reflecting off the glass and water, painting the moment in vibrant hues. The cheers grew louder, people pointing and marveling at the display. You stayed like that, wrapped in Lando’s arms, watching the sky.

With fireworks still illuminating the sky and Lando’s arms wrapped securely around you, a quiet realization settled in your heart. It was not something sudden, it was something that had been building over time, piece by piece, moment by moment. The depth of love that you feel for Lando was staggering, overwhelming even, and yet it felt so natural.

You had dated before, countless boys who had seemed charming or interesting at the time, but none of them had ever come close to Lando. They never understood you the way Lando did. With him, there was no guessing, pretending, or effort to mold yourself into someone else’s idea of what love should look like. Lando saw you, truly saw you, in a way that no one else ever had. To be seen was to be loved.

This was what set Lando apart. With him, you never had to explain your silences, quirks, or the way your mind wandered to far-off places. He did not just tolerate those things, in fact, he cherished them. He loved them. With Lando, you felt understood in a way that words could never fully capture.

You thought back to the other relationships before Lando, the boys who had come before. They had their moments, but they always felt…incomplete. There had been a disconnect, a lingering sense that you were only partly there, only partly understood. They never have you the feeling that Lando did—feeling of being wholly, entirely loved. Lando was the man that you had been praying for, and for once, God had led Lando to you.

Sure, the way he loved you was not perfect, but it was honest. It was raw and real, and it made you feel more like yourself than you ever thought possible. Lando had this way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world, like his entire focus was only on you and no one else. That was the truth of it, wasn’t it? You had never felt this way with anyone else, and you knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that no one else could make you feel the way he did. Lando was not just someone you loved—he was the person you wanted to spend your forever with.

The thought settled deeply in your chest, filling every corner of your heart with an indescribable warmth. It was not just that you loved him—it was that he was home.

“I love you,” you looked up at him, smiling.

Lando looked at you, smiling. He then whispered, “I love you too, so fucking much.”

taglist : @sheblogs

[therobotmonster]

I'm one of the artists mentioned previously, specifically the one who does comics (comic) via a lineart-composition-extraction process (full tutorial).

And while having a specific end-point is often my process, I wanted to add that I also enjoy the discovery/brainstorming aspect (That, and tinkering with image generators is a very effective stim for me.)

As to how do you throw a temper tantrum with an image generator?

I don't know. My art doesn't work that way. I tend to create in the aftermath of my emotions when I'm processing them rather than during the event when I'm having them. Attempting to create while I'm in those spaces creates nothing but frustration.

But how does my creative process with AI work?

TyrannoMax, my fauxstalgia-AI-dino-anthro project, uses a blend of the two approaches for my character designs. For most of the "mains" I had a sold or at least semi-solid idea of what I want them to look like. Some, like the Cold Shoulder, are old character concepts I've just updated, some are new ones that were designed to play well with the generator models I have access to...

Some, but not all.

The Generative Duet in Action

Now, the "idea first" method doesn't always take the avenue you expect.

Ape-Tomic Pyle and the whole Tmax concept kind of evolved in the same way. I was making a fake comic cover to try out the compositing process. I'd already done some mini-comics with Dr. Underfang and Mrs. Nautilus, and a very sketchy barely-elaborated on set of screenshots for a 90s movie called "TyrannoMax" where Underfang and Nautilus first showed up.

TyrannoMax, as a name, popped "TriceraBruce" into my head, and I was tickled by the goofy naming scheme. I wanted him to fight something delightfully silver age, so a radioactive ape was the #1 choice.

The US military tests where they marched recruits into mushroom clouds in Nevada were fresh in my mind from another project, so there was my origin story, but the robot did not want to put him in fatigues and instead went for more of a track suit.

But the monkey in the track suit won me over as I played with prompts to get the right look. The suit felt like something scientists post-mutation event would give him to wear and was very 70s.

He needed a name, and my pun-brain put together Atomic Pile, an Ape, and Gomer Pyle into "The Ape-Tomic Pyle." The idea of an extremely violent and revenge-minded creature with an "Aw shucks" personality came together there.

The pompadour was there because anyone writing comics in the 70s would have associated thuggery with greasers, from having been a kid or teenager in the 50s. Old school comics covers usually had dialog and callouts on them, so I went with some traditional import-issue-of-the-70s discussion, and parodied marvel's trade dress.

Once I had the comic cover done, however, that informed the later Wally Man-Moth origin story and the TyrannoMax lore. The series originating in the 70s meant it couldn't have originally featured the meteor-extinction hypothesis, as that wasn't proposed seriously until the 80s.

The majority theory at the time was a deep-space gamma burst, so taking the "how would a 70s comic writer do this" tack, I combined the "blast of radiation from space" and the concept of people's shadows being burned into buildings after an atomic blast, and boom, it's not a hollow earth, but a hollow-earthy pocket universe accessed through "fossilized time."

One off gags, fun unplanned prompt output, if it sparks an idea it goes in the soup. Milhouse was a nameless background character until Bart needed someone to trade lunches with in a Butterfinger commercial, Brainiac is a robot because a toy company sued DC over trademark infringement, you know the drill.

Having a movie in the 90s means a cartoon in the 80s, so everyone gets an action-figurey redesign, including our radioactive ape pal.

The entire process is very wandering, and if I went into the video or music stuff we'd be here for another color of the sky.

But the short version is it draws on the processes I've always used in other situations. One of my favorite hobbies is thinking of how I'd reboot or fix projects that were promising, and if generative AI is anything it is a fountain of interesting idea-combinations that need a lot of fixing.

So what I get out of the process and what process I use varies by the situation, but I see them as extensions of my traditional art processes.

Because I've been doing all of this for years with art elements for my whole artistic life. Such as these comic pages which I made in a very similar way to the Wally Manmoth origin pages, only difference is the source of the public domain images.

The question of how I sort through my source image folders when having a temper tantrum never came up.

so honest question, those AI bros who do the 'prompt to image' thing - do they get the meditative 'throwing my whole mind into it' mindful zen out of it? the feeling of challenge and growth and even getting your feelings out of you along with the images in your head?

cus i feel like that just wouldnt do it for me ykno? throwing some words into a generator wouldnt be enough for me, but with how possessive some of them seem to be of 'their' 'work' ...

[grapejuicebluesrry]

you can find the rest of the posts under the tag 'grapejuicebluesrry 2024 fic rec'.

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I’ll Follow You Down (25K) by TiredTiredTz 

With their fifteenth anniversary almost upon them, Rolling Stone speaks to Louis Tomlinson of One Direction to set the record straight before they take to the stage for their massively coveted One Night Only anniversary performance for which tickets sold out in a record-breaking 1.6 seconds.

With the band’s internal relationships during their heyday leading many to liken them to a modern day Fleetwood Mac, it is no surprise that Rolling Stone journalist Rob Sheffield even once cited the whimsical and charismatic Harry Styles as being the Stevie Nicks to Louis Tomlinson’s intensely brooding Lindsey Buckingham. The pair’s earth-shattering love affair which began when Tomlinson was 18 and Styles just 16, came to an abrupt end when the band parted ways for a so-called ‘eighteen month hiatus’ in 2016, coming shortly after fellow bandmate Zayn Malik’s departure in 2015.

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elephant juice (32K) by stylinsoncity | @stylinsoncity

harry doesn't understand boundaries. louis doesn't mind at all.

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To you I can admit, I'm just too soft for all of it (28K) by starryhaze | @starryhaze28

“Harry?” Louis asks when he hears the frantic crying coming through the speaker. “H, darling what's wrong?”

Concerned, Louis puts on his shoes as he keeps hearing the sobs. It’s the middle of the night and the phone call has definitely pulled Louis out of his deep slumber, but Harry is crying, and Louis has to be with him.

“It’ll be okay, baby, I'm gonna come over, okay? You just- Haz you have to send me your address, yeah? Can you do that for me?” Louis asks, trying to remain as poised as possible as he presses his phone between his ear and shoulder so he can grab his jacket.

“No.” Harry cries out. “It's all wrong, Lou- It’s-” Another sob. “I hate it, Lou, I hate it so, so much, make it stop.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

the nesting shop au

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It Feels Different When You’re With Me (45K) by Rearviewdreamer | @all-these-larrythings

Harry fell in love with sign language as a kid. He never imagined the first love of his life would lead him straight to his second.

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The Stages Of A Boy Losing His Soulmate (44K) by vintagemaroon

How To Lose Your Husband: A Step By Step Guide Written and narrated by Louis Tomlinson. SOLD OUT. Over the span of 7 brief months, Louis Tomlinson successfully left his now ex-husband in search of true happiness. Now, living the lavish life he deserves, he tells his story in his New York Times bestseller! Married folk all across the globe are flocking to local booksellers to get their hands on this one-of-a-kind novel. Order yours now!

or an exes to lovers AU where Louis and Harry’s marriage falls apart and Louis writes a book about it which skyrockets him into fame. While Harry is a rising rock star, Louis can’t help but swerve off the road every time one of Harry’s songs plays on the radio, forever haunted by past memories. When they both happen to be guests on a talk show, how will they react?

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Hiding Green Smiles (45K) by HoldingOnToChaos | @holdingontochaos

When Louis goes with Liam to a hidden sex shop, he discovers a new sex toy, the BiteMat, and he can't believe his luck. He loves being bitten, has a biting kink, even, and now he can be bitten over his bonding spot without the fear of anything permanent.

He hastily buys it to try with Harry, his friend and roommate, and his regular heat/rut partner for the last eighteen months. They've been friends-with-benefits outside heat or rut for eight months now, and Louis' been desperately in love with Harry for at least five of those months.

-- Or the BiteMat fic

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i'll make this feel like home (49K) by zouisclimax

Harry to groans himself and then takes a deep breath. “Okay, well. Here’s the thing. I peed on a stick.”

Louis isn’t able to get more than a shocked “What!” out before Harry’s steamrolling on.

“I peed on a stick and it says it’s positive, but you always prattle on about how it’s best to go to the doctor’s before you get excited, you know to confirm it because sometimes hormones are off or you have like a tumor or some shit and get false positives and what if I’m dying and-”

“You’re pregnant?!” Louis shouts out, stomach dropping as the words leave his mouth.

“Um, yeah… maybe.”

[the one where Louis' hopelessly in love with his best mate... who just happens to be pregnant with another man's baby.]

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discover more fics under the cut!

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Could Be A Catastrophe (29K) by hazzahtomlinson | @itsnotreal

He watched as the other man scrunched up his nose, but slid his hand into Louis' nonetheless. “So, where are we going?”

Louis rolled his eyes at the change in subject. “To get some lunch and then I was hoping I could come back to yours?” He glanced over at the taller man with pleading eyes.

Harry’s eyes widened. “That’s very forward of you.”

Louis eyebrows scrunched before he realized the implication behind his words, “Oh. No. Shit. Sorry. I just meant that I wanted to hang out with your cats.”

Or Louis is one of the two veterinarians in town and somehow gets lucky enough for Harry’s three cats to be his clients.

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you, in every color (38K) by blueskiesrry | @blueskiesrry

But then he thinks of the soft curves and sharp angles he had imagined when he first drew up the sketches for the collection, the specific green of fabric he had picked with the thought of how they’d saturate green eyes, the glossy silks and soft velvets he had once pictured sitting delicately against milky skin.

“We’re drunk,” Louis decides on a sigh. “We shouldn’t make any drastic decisions now.”

or: fashion designer louis and his model bf harry have vowed to never work together again, but with the show for louis’ first solo line on the horizon, they decide to give it another shot

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Break A Leg (24K) by unscattered_horizons

Louis Tomlinson is a writer living in Brighton with his two dogs. A new neighbor moves in next door and Louis is instantly charmed. Harry's shy, Louis is afraid of scaring them off, and it might take a medical emergency but damn it, fate is going to get these two together. With the help of Louis' dogs, codependent friends, and a long night at the A&E, Harry and Louis might find what they've been looking for.

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Oh, That's What I Want (38K) by lululawrence | @lululawrence

“Oh my god, does that mean we get to go dancing?” Liam asked, clapping her hands.

“I’m 42 years old, Liam,” Louis said, her voice flat. “I don’t think the place to pick up men my age is at a club downtown.”

“Where do you want to pick them up, then?” Zayn asked gently. “Wanna go to a classy bar? We can get all dressed up, show off the tits we didn’t have at 18, and see who we can find.”

Louis pursed her lips. “That sounds a lot more my speed, but I was serious when I said I don’t have anything sexy. I haven’t felt sexy in at least a decade, I don’t think.” That made her pause. “Fuck. Our marriage really has been going downhill for a long time, hasn’t it? We had no idea that we’d somehow switched from romantic partners to roommates.”

“All the more reason to go out and get you laid,” Zayn said, nodding to herself.

Louis is 42 and newly divorced with her four daughters off to college when she realizes all the plans she used to have for her life no longer fit. Just as she's starting to figure things out, she meets Harry Styles who proves sometimes starting over turns out so much better than sticking with the original plan.

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Just for Tonight (I can be yours) (42K) by SadaVeniren | @sadaveniren

Harry, prince of Cestrescir, has been betrothed to Ludvic, prince of Yorvik, since birth. He'd accepted a loveless marriage as his duty to his country, until an accident threw him in the path of a gentle alpha

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the very last drops of an ink pen (47K) by staybeautiful | @harruandlou

Just after midnight on Harry's 30th birthday, he realizes he can't do another year without change. So, he forces it. Breaking up with Louis might have hurt less if they weren't co-owners of Studio 28, living within walking distance of each other, and if he wasn't the thing Harry was most afraid of losing. Secluding themselves on their shared estate in an attempt to save their working relationship may shed a light on where everything else started going wrong. And perhaps give them a chance to fix it.

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Here Where Life Beats (42K) by MarWritesStuff (Ta_Ma) | @marwritesstuff

Harry is a single mum who moves to London for a new job and fears that the move might be affecting his four-year-old pup too much. But when Noah starts at his new school, they meet Louis Tomlinson. A sweet alpha who seems to be almost too perfect to be real.

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you’re the habit that i can’t break (24K) by ohpleaselarry

The boys decide to have a belated band reunion, just the five of them. One week, one cabin in the mountains, five boys.

Harry and Louis haven’t spoken sober in a year.

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Sugar, Sugar (25K) by parmahamlarrie | @parmahamlarrie

Meeting your soulmate was the most joyous event of one’s life… or at least, it’s supposed to be. Harry, in all of his 25 year old wisdom, was suspicious of the role fate plays in everyone's lives. He'd rather focus his time dating older men he meets off of a sugar baby website.

Louis isn’t waiting with bated breath for his soulmate either. He has more important things to worry about than love. Mainly, his career as a writer, publishing under a pseudonym. He spends most of the year buried under research and manuscripts, taking as much time as he would like, much to his publishers' chagrin. After receiving many millions after the death of his Aunt Ethel when he was young, he technically never has to work again. As far as soulmates go, he figures if it happens, he will be so old that he’ll be stuck in his ways. Or he’ll have grey eyes forever, he doesn’t fucking care. He can get his needs met through a sugar baby website.

Or… The Sugar baby soulmate AU

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a little, then suddenly (34K) by HoldingOnToChaos | @holdingontochaos

Gray-Asexual (demisexual) Harry falls in love and gets attracted to his best friend Louis after fifteen years of friendship.

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Wanna Be Loved By You (40K) by likelarry | @likelarryfics

Harry and Louis have just finalised their divorce when Harry finds out he's pregnant with Louis' baby. Together, they have to find a way to work on their relationship, despite them ending on a bad note, for the sake of their child and maybe along the way, they relearn why they'd fallen in love with each other in the first place.

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Something About Liminal Spaces (34K) by kingsofeverything | @kingsofeverything

Searching for inspiration for his latest book, and hoping distance will help heal his broken heart, Louis Tomlinson heads to the village of Piha on the west coast of New Zealand’s north island.

There he meets Harry Styles.

Fifteen years older than Harry, Louis tries to keep his distance, but Harry is impossible to avoid and harder to ignore.

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Take Our Bodies Higher (26K) by littlelouishiccups | @littlelouishiccups

Harry wasn’t often caught off guard at his job anymore. He called different men Sir, Master, or Daddy for work almost every week, but he’d never been told he was a good boy in a voice quite like that.

In which Harry is a phone sex operator and Louis dials a wrong number.

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i love you (it’s ruining my life) (40K) by wildestdreams | @thelavendrhaze

A situationship AU where Harry is one of the most sought-after omega supermodels in the world and Louis is the alpha lead singer of the indie supergroup, The Rogue. The last thing either of them wants is to fall in love.

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Tossing Round Like Coins (25K) by LetTheMusicMoveYou | @letthemusicmoveyou28

Louis is an alpha who does manly alpha things like play professional football and lift weights at the gym, where he meets alpha Harry who wears nail polish and dates other alphas. Louis isn’t put off by Harry’s strange tendencies, more like intrigued. And maybe just maybe, he’s interested

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take me back, take me back (32K) by eynap | @panye

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Niall says. He puts his head between his hands. “How is this happening?”

“I didn’t want to say anything,” Harry says. “I wanted you to figure it out on your own.”

“You think I like Shawn, too?” Niall asks and he’s shocked. “If anyone is supposed to tell me that I’m gay it’s supposed to be my gay best friend!”

Or, Niall invites his new friend Shawn to Zayn and Liam's three-day wedding in Napa Valley, California. He gets way more than he expected.

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Until (61K) by allwaswell16 | (@allwaswell16

Rural Eagle County, Colorado wasn’t the type of place to find a famous musician or actor. At least not until songwriter Louis Tomlinson showed up with pop star Niall Horan to visit his uncle’s horse ranch, and they just happened to find themselves next door to a reclusive former movie star.

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Unbonded (24K) by jacaranda_bloom | @jacaranda-bloom

Harry is an omega who has been cast out from his pack, Louis is the alpha leader of the pack where Harry finds a new home, Liam is an alpha with heart of gold, and Niall is a cook who can't seem to stop setting himself on fire.

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Heart Beat (35K) by allwaswell16 | @allwaswell16

Hideaway Haven is the place that Louis has always called home. It's also the place that Harry had tried to leave behind him. When Harry returns to start a music academy in his hometown, he finds himself face to face with his high school crush—and his charming daughter who wants to learn to play the drums.

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gorgeous (it makes me so mad) (29K) by resurrectdead

Harry’s a coffee barista with nothing really going on for him except for the occasional flirting with, some, particularly hot male customers. But when a new guy starts coming in, he suddenly doesn’t know what to make out of any single situation anymore.

or: Harry is a hot mess. Liam is a brilliant roommate. Niall is a wise lesbian co-worker. Clifford is a good boy. Louis is a bad boy. Circumstances are bizarre.

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Rewriting the Melody (26K) by LadyAJ_13 | @ladyaj-13

Louis doesn’t get put in One Direction. This time, the path to true love takes the long way round, including singing in toilet cubicles, fruit baskets, and long distance band counselling from someone who really doesn’t know what he’s doing, he just wants to keep talking to Harry.

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Where Life Changed Us (22K) by ExiledQueenCatalog

Omega Harry has a rare genetic disorder where he has no sense of smell. This has lots of odd effects such as him not being able to smell his own scent but most brutally, not being able to scent the way his inner omega desires. It also leaves him as a sort of odd-ball to the community, leaving him becoming touch starved as no one wants the omega who can’t scent. Until finally, he meets the right alpha.

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No One Does It Better (49K) by nodibs

Harry's an alcoholic and Louis is a bartender. The first time they meet isn't the first time they've met.

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You Fit Me Better Than My Favorite Sweater (I Will Love You 'Til the End of Time) (31K) by 1Diamondinthesun | @1diamondinthesun

The first person Harry sees through the viewfinder of a camera is Louis Tomlinson.

Snapshots from a decade of Harry and Louis’ life as told through a collection of cameras, milestones and 90s references.

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Life Was a Song, You Came Along (37K) by rainbowninja167 | @rainbowninja

It's embarrassing how long it takes Louis to recognize his own song. Niall had sung it as a bright, hopeful love song, and that’s honestly how Louis had always assumed it should sound. But this new voice, slow and rough, stripped of any backing instrument, has infused the lyrics with just the tumultuous mix of fear and defiance that Louis can remember so clearly from the night he wrote them. It’s not a comfortable thing, to feel like someone is singing all your secrets back to you.  

Louis is a songwriter trapped in a lie that could ruin his best friend's career. Harry owns a record store, distrusts everyone in the music industry on principle, but loves Niall Horan's newest album. A modern retelling of Singin' in the Rain.

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a perpetual sunrise (31K) by moonshinelouis (lunarflwrs) | @moonshinelouis

Louis Tomlinson lives the archetype of a successful man: he has a big white house, a gorgeous wife, and adorable daughters. Happiness is a superfluity, really. And his daughters' dimpled piano teacher is nothing more than a sinful distraction.

1950s AU.

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Only (33K) by allwaswell16 | @allwaswell16

Although Louis Tomlinson lived most of his life on the most remote island in the world, now he’s ready to leave home, attend university, and maybe have a chance at finding his soulmate. Prince Harry Styles reluctantly leaves London for yet another diplomatic visit, this time to the tiny island of Tristan da Cunha.

Or the one where the electric touch of Louis’ soulmate isn’t enough to discount that he's a bit of a dickhead.

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Heart Beat (35K) by allwaswell16 | @allwaswell16

Hideaway Haven is the place that Louis has always called home. It's also the place that Harry had tried to leave behind him. When Harry returns to start a music academy in his hometown, he finds himself face to face with his high school crush—and his charming daughter who wants to learn to play the drums.

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Seeing Blind (46K) by zedi

Louis finally turns his head in Liam’s direction, knows his face is showing the longing he’s been aching with ever since it took root in his chest. “What the fuck do I do, Liam? He wouldn’t want me like that, but I want-” his voice cracks, and he turns his face back downwards. “What do you do when you’re not perfect for the person who’s perfect for you?”

OR the one where Harry’s an independent omega who likes to have his fun and Louis is the blind alpha that changes Harry’s priorities.

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Not having a breakdown! (I'm just here for the kid.) (28K) by louisismycat (tiflamomet) | @liminalkitty369

Harry has to park outside his ex-husband’s (Louis) wedding so that he can whisk their kid away if a meltdown ensues during the day. Guests will not know this and will only see him parked outside, it cannot be stressed enough, his ex-husband’s wedding.

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At Least Let Me Buy You Dinner First (35K) by Anonymouis

“I said, Harry. As in Styles. AKA you. You’re pretty and certainly a piece of art if you ask me.” Louis mewls.

“Oh,” Harry breathes. He takes a moment taking in Louis.

Louis watches his eyes work their way all over his face and body trying to read him. Luckily, he knows just how to read Harry. The moment their eyes meet again, Louis leans in a little at a time, as slowly as possible. His heart racing, giving Harry all the time to back out, but then, Harry is reaching around Louis’ wrist and sliding their hands together, lacing their fingers and leaning in as well.

Then…

The bell above the door rings.

They both pull back at light speed, sniffling and coughing from almost being caught. Harry trips over his own feet with the force that he used. Giggles fall from both of them while Louis steadies him.

“First day with legs there, bambi?”

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2 a.m. texts (30K) by everysingleday

Harry has just come out and, with his best friend Louis’ support, he might finally be brave enough to go on a date with the guy he’s been chatting with on a dating app. Meanwhile, there’s a cat that wants to murder Louis, a fast-approaching deadline for Harry to find a new place to live, and this minor situation wherein he and Louis can’t seem to stop making out. It’s not a big deal. Louis is just being supportive.

—

aka, a practice kissing fic.

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Neon Red Glow (20K) by unscattered_horizons

It's Christmas Eve Eve and Zayn is overwhelmed with how much wrapping is left to do. Calling Liam over to his house to help him is the only way out of this mess. Things are cosy and warm and there's holiday cheer. They decorate and they joke and they sip peppermint tea, and before the night is over, they've both unwrapped a Christmas gift they didn't expect.

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Are You Nervous? (22K) by Ioudloudlove

Harry and Louis have been friends for almost twelve years after a chance meeting at primary school. They've grown up together, the very best of friends. They like football, drinking with their friends and picking up pretty girls.

When they're dared by the rest of their football team to play a game of 'Are You Nervous?' at a party, they accept immediately. Neither of them are the type to back down from a bet.

As they play the game and things start to get more steamy, who will cave first? Will they call or truce or will they push the boundaries in the name of winning? And what if it stops being a game and turns into a revelation?

The stakes are high and their resistance is low...

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When Harry Met Louis (45K) by disgruntledkittenface | @disgruntledkittenface

The first time Harry and Louis met, they hated each other.

The second time they met, Louis didn’t even remember Harry.

The third time they met, they became friends.

They were friends for a long time.

And then they weren’t.

(When Harry Met Sally AU)

[siddyyyyyyyy]

It's All an Act

Actor!AU

Bruce Wayne x fem!Reader

wc: 5 K summary: Actor!Bruce plays as your love interest in your up-coming movie warnings: no y/n used, Bruce acting like a rich kid sometimes, fluff, consumption of alcohol at a party, light harrassment a/n: part two is finally here!!! please ignore how long it took for me to write it, just enjoy this piece of my soul. Enjoy!

PREVIOUS PART

NEXT PART

Next day on set felt different. You couldn‘t forget how good he felt against you, how his scent lingered on your clothes after wards and how he shamelessly cock-blocked you. Sure, he has a good reason for it; he wants to make your first time with him special. You appreciate it, you really do, but he could‘ve told you earlier.

At least you both talked about the rest, officially dating and happy. It would have been way better if you could make it public, but with your jobs, you decided on keeping it a secret for the time-being, until some time passes.

But you both don‘t mind, it even feels more thrilling or rather more exciting in that way. Truth be told, it feels like you are in a cheesy romance story. And it‘s the best feeling ever.

Now, you are watching the crew set up the area with cameras, props and mics, making sure everything goes right again while you sip on your coffee. You‘ve barely gotten any sleep anyway after last night, and you really hope Malva won‘t come by and ask for updates. You are unsure what you‘d tell her.

Well, there is no time to panic over things like this and you have to film a more difficult scene today. Which requires stunts, and an angsty scene afterwards, which requires you crying and shouting at him. God, you have a love-hate-relationship with this job.

There is a stunt double of Bruce, actually Andy, that the staff is trying to look more like Bruce with colouring his hair in black and getting him the same clothes he wears for the scene.

You do your best to make sure the few stunts are incredibly safe, working together with the team even though you don‘t understand anything they are talking about, but still make sure they do everything safely.

You panic every time you see Bruce‘s stunt double pratice his falls and jumps, silently letting him do his job and let him focus. Once everything seems to be safe and sound, the action scene starts. Standing by the side, you watch the mission play out smoothly and without any problems. Thank God you didn‘t have enough budget to get explosions in, or else you‘d be worried sick over the planning. The only reason your budget didn‘t fit for some explosions, was because of the cool, high-tech gadget props you bought instead. They are not only cool-looking, but also realistic and mostly useable, if there were real bullets and other things inside.

But just to be sure, you settled on keeping the gadgets unloaded. Just in case something could go wrong.

In all honesty, you expected for Bruce to at least know how to hold a gun the right way. You knew from educating yourself through various videos and posts, so that surprised you. Ignoring the slight surprise, you stay patient beside the stunt choreographer and listen in on the plan of the scene. Shooting it would require some difficulties because of the several cuts and the stunt double, mostly because of the stunt itself.

Andy is going to jump through a window while shooting several enemies inside the room. The coordinator for this scene is trust-worthy and so is the rest of the crew. So, without any further stress, the actors play out their role flawlessly. The camera crew is making sure to capture the action-filled energy of the scene and it seems to work perfectly.

In the end, you worried way too much about it all going wrong in so many ways, that it seems ridiculous to you now. Eventually, after several hours of filming the whole action scene, it‘s time for a bigger break. Bruce looks tired already and you start to feel some kind of guilt for making him do stuff like this. But he auditioned for this role himself, so it‘s also his fault.

You stay back on set to help the rest to pack up the props and clean up the set overall, being busy thinking through the next set of scenes you‘ll have to shoot together after the big break.

A soft tap on your shoulder brings you back to reality and you turn around. Bruce locks eyes with you in an instant, immediately softening his expression.

He asks for cuddles.

»Now?«

You whisper back hushed and take a few steps off the set with him. He looks uncharacteristically vulnerable and almost sheepish.

»A hug will do as well… with you. On a bed. For fifteen minutes.«

His shoulders slump as he waits for your answer, knowing he sounds like a total dork right now. But you couldn‘t care less right now, feeling yourself crumble and give in easily.

»I think your trailer has a bigger bed, no?«

◐

That‘s how you ended up snuggling up together after every tiring day on set. It actually helped setting your mind on track again, being free on talking his ears off with your current plans on the movie and on what dates the interviews are planned. At the mention of interviews, he gets more curious. Of course, you won‘t be making your new relationship public any time soon, the timing just isn‘t right and it could result in more stress than necessary.

So, the interviews you‘ll need to attend with Bruce will be neutral. Well, as neutral as it can be, since you were also invited to a premiere party once the movie will roll in the theaters. But those are worries for your future selfs, you need to focus on the production first.

It happens very rarely, but today Bruce is taking you to set with his own car. You told him countless of times that it is risky and paparrazi are dying to get some crumbs of content or eventual leaks for the upcoming movie. But he doesn‘t seem too scared by it, he is a billionare after all. And who are you to say no to those big, blue eyes?

Arriving, you haven‘t noticed someting suspicious so far. No annoying people with cameras whose shutter is louder than a damn drum kit. It‘s relieving. Finally, something seems to go your way.

»Are these pictures planned? People are freaking out, the hype is getting bigger.«

Malva comes up beside you, holding her Ipad in front of you to see what she‘s talking about.

These goddamn paparrazi.

Her Ipad displays several pictures of you and Bruce walking across the street, his hand resting on your lower back, both of you smiling about something. On the other pictures, you can see the way he gazes down at you, expression soft and loving, almost carefree.

It really does look almost planned, the way you clinge to his side to stay close will make any person think you two are a couple.

You loudly clear your throat and accidentally gain more attention from other crew members, ducking your head with an apologetic smile. Your best friend only raises her eyebrow at you and closes her screen.

»Planned. We did that just a moment ago, totally didn‘t want that to, uh… gain negative attention. All for the hype.«

You quickly answer back and smile at her, rather awkwardly. She keeps her skeptical stare on you and almost seems to ask you more before she decides to drop the topic and move on.

»Just let us discuss something like this next time. Deal?«

»Deal.«

Malva did sound like a disappointed parent, but you really don‘t want to drop the news on her like that. Sighing out, you move on from it and focus on coordinating the rest of the scenes correctly. Using the break to check on the media, you can easily find the hottest topic trending on Twitter at the moment.

Your — the pictures some paparrazzi took — are floating everywhere. It‘s like a disease. Every other acoount is talking about it, pointing out the hand placement and the soft gaze Bruce holds for you.

THE HANDDDD!! is this offocial now? Should‘ve be me. I wish someone looked at me the way Bruce Wayne looks at her both lips are smiling right now Bi panic omg!!

Some comments take you off guard, but you don‘t want to pretend like it isn‘t amusing you, or you were any better as a teenager with celebrity crushes. Forcing yourself not to giggle at your phone, you put it away for the meantime and get back to work like a serious adult.

After the rather uneventful day, you make your way back to Bruce‘s Manor again, having made a meet up again. Mostly consisting of cuddles and reading.

»What do you think of our new photo together? I hit it off, didn‘t I?«

You slowly turn your head over to him, being confused on what he means by that, before it finally clicks in your mind.

»You saw them too? Did you plan this?«

Suddenly, he raises his hands to his defense and shakes his head.

»Of course not! I would‘ve been way more awkward if it was planned… pff, planned.«

You see him cross his arms and glance away, looking like a child who is being accused of having eaten the last cookie. With fresh cookie crumbs on the corner of his mouth.

Sighing out, you let it slide. You end up being cuddled up to his chest either way, basking in the warmth and comfort it brings to your heart.

◐

You finished filming all scenes for the movie and let it get edited and produced by the other team, only dropping in every now and then to check on them and make sure it meets your expectations. The edits and paparazzi pictures even gained their popularity and even hyped up your movie even more. It‘s ridiculous, watching your up-coming movie getting pushed and bigger by some simple edits, that got most probably made by some teenage girls.

You don‘t complain, actually having saved some of those thirst videos yourself. Just make sure Bruce doesn‘t see your phone and you won‘t get into bigger trouble.

Currently, you wait for the last adjustments to be done at the interview before you could start it, already sitting beside the bigger men on the chairs, while the interviewer gets ready to ask her questions.

You are actually a little excited for this, never having answered questions to your own movie. It was always questions for your role, but now you can actually feel like a director too.

Bruce is also prepared beside you, mostly glancing at you before they set up the cameras and the interviewer sits down in front of you.

First, you greet each other, sharing your excitement to be here and answer some questions for the media.

The whole answering questions thing goes on well, making sure neither of you spoil something or give away your secret relationship. Now, the woman before you asks the final question, wearing a sly smile on her face.

»As for the final question, I hope you can answer it without spoiling too much...« with a light nod from your part, she continues, »Did you take inspiration from the vigilante ‚Superman‘ from Metropolis for the superhero in your movie?«

She finishes, awaiting curiously with a twinkle in her eye. She is popular for her usual eagerness and teasing nature in interviews, and it shows now.

Finally, you give her a nod, also smiling lightly.

»Not exactly him, but I did tried to use some references from different vigilantes from around the citys.«

You don‘t notice it, but Bruce tenses up subtly beside you. His eyes stay locked on the interviewer before they fall back to you; making him relax. He speaks up beside you, unable to keep a teasing remark.

»Not the best vigilante to choose from, but fair choice.« His smug expression makes it seem less sharp, giving him a light chuckle back.

»And you know better vigilantes?« You tease back amused, not having expected for him to be so smug but you won‘t complain.

The interview ends well, having a nice feeling about it afterwards. Your ways part with Bruce, sadly having to go back to work and focus on yourself for the rest of the day.

It was an unspoken rule between the two fo you to ignore or answer relationship questions in a sly way, and luckily, there were no questions of the sort. But you know, as soon as questions like “How do you not catch any feelings during the movie?“ or, “Your chemistry is great! Have you seen the pictures on set, because you two look fantastic together.“, you had to be prepared for more harrasment about it in the future.

Today, is one of those days, where you wish talkshows weren‘t a thing.

»So… the edits. Let‘s talk about them! There‘s hundreds, no, thousands of them all around! Have you seen any of those before?« Asks the moderator, while wearing an amused smirk and watches your reaction. You already feel like this can go south really quickly and shake your head, staying composed.

»Haven‘t seen any of them… yet.«

He quirks an eyebrow at you, letting out a light chuckle. »Well, you‘re about to see some of them!«

With a dramatic arm motion of his, the large screen behind you lights up and starts to show some fan made edits of both Bruce and you. Scenes of the trailer and some leaks, as well as paparazzi pictures, are clipped together that make everything look all the more intimate. Not knowing how to react, you cover your face and hope for the best. The live audience cheers loudly, the camera cutting from your flustered state to the audience as they continue on showing the fan made edit on screen. The moderator finally cuts you some slack, laughing at your flustered state. It‘s not helping, but you are glad that Bruce isn‘t here, witnessing it all and maybe throwing in some teasing comments too.

Sighing out, you look back at the moderator and calm down again. What were you thinking, joining a late night talk show like this?

»I never want to see that again...«

»Oh, just one more.« The moderator teases and smiles widely, letting another edit play on screen. It‘s one that you have saved on your phone. Recognising it, you try your best not to react as embarrassed as before. Still, your rosy cheeks give it away, even though you are way calmer now. Finn, the moderator, feels more friendly than ususal and decides to not point it out. For now, the show had enough entertainment after having had a rather funny conversation with him and showing you these thirst edits.

◐

Finally having a day off, you decide to spend it together with your significant other and relax. Bruce however, doesn‘t seem to have enough of creating core memories together, that you‘ll spend thinking about for the next ten years.

»Oh, thanks for the delicious meal, Alfred. You are dismissed for now.« Bruce tells him with a soft smile and nod, watching how the butler leaves the dining room and lets the chaos begin.

Richard, or Dick, the eldest of his sons, seems to be the most adequate, but also the most lively among his brothers. Bruce has already told one embarrasing story about his parkour accidents during a gala, which made you laugh a bit. That made Dick stay a little more quiet in return, getting the hint that more of his teasing nature will be greatly regretted. Somehow, the table was mostly calm during the dinner. Most of the conversation was started by Dick or Bruce, some comments coming from Damian as well. Although, not the nicest.

Still, they managed to behave rather well. That was, until Alfred returned with some scrumptious looking dessert. After serving tea, the table tends to get more lively. Tim and Damian often bicker quietly about who‘s getting the next piece faster, however you try not to pay too much mind and not make it awkward. Jason on the other hand, stays seated by Dick‘s side and makes fun of the two younger brothers.

»No wonder you‘re both such fatasses.«

»Jason.« Bruce smiles at his second son, trying his best not to physically cringe at himself for needing to keep his sons under control in front of you.

You, however, don‘t really care much about the antics around the table. You‘ve seen way worse at a small children‘s birthday party, so this actually feels domestic, in a way.

»It‘s okay, father. We… are sharing this last cupcake.« Damian intervenes and seems tense as he cuts up the last sweet dessert in half. He makes sure to make one half bigger than the other and gives the smaller one to Tim. Luckily, Bruce feels more satisfied and relaxed after that and continues on sipping his tea beside you, at the head of the table.

After the nice dinner with his family, you try to help Alfred with cleaning the table up, but he kindly stops you and insists on doing it alone.

»I greatly appreiciate it, but I believe master Bruce prefers to have you all to himself tonight. I will handle this by myself.« Convinced, you leave the butler alone and make your way to Bruce, who just finished talking to his boys.

»There you are… let‘s head upstairs, darling.« His arm snakes around your waist as you walk upstairs to his master bedroom, getting some well deserved privacy after the long, hard-working week. Inside, he can‘t contain his feelings anymore and picks you up, just to throw you both onto his bed and curl up with you. The room fills with light giggles from the both of you, turning it into a play fight on the bed. It doesn‘t take long for Bruce to get hold of your wrists and pin you down under him, looking as smug as ever over his win. You continue to squirm and try to fight him, although you don‘t try to get away from him; just enjoying the playful moment. Finally, he gets to make your legs go still aswell, putting more of his weight onto you.

»Now, be good and stay still for a moment, hm? Wouldn‘t want to hurt my pretty girl...« You can hear him sigh out lightly as he leans into the crook of your neck, planting soft kisses along your skin before he gently bites down, leaving light marks. It makes you instantly relax, enjoying the way he manages to be so gentle and passionate at the same time. He also relaxes, finally feeling more comfortable showing his affection this way and simply keeps going, not wanting to end this yet. His bigger hand trails down your thigh, urging it to hook around his hip, seemingly craving more contact with you.

A light hum leaves your lips, tangling your fingers into his black hair, gasping lightly once he starts to nibble harder on your skin. It leaves goosebumps down your spine, shifting to wrap your other leg around him too. Suddenly, this doesn‘t feel so innocent anymore.

Bruce tries his best to hold back on a groan, eventually exhales shakily against you. He finally stops his gentle attack on your neck, leaning away to admire his handiwork. You take him in from your position, watching the way his eyes are blacked out and his breathing grew rather uneven. His eyes dart back to you, shifting so he isn‘t crushing you under his weight.

»I could never grow tired of this, you know?«

Bruce secretly cringes at himself for being so vulnerable, so open with you. But judging by your reaction, you seem to love it. The way your eyes soften even more, how you stay completely relaxed and peaceful under him is saying enough. Your hand reaches out to cup his cheek, bringing him closer again to exchange more gentle kisses between each other. The evening turns out in you both being relaxed and endlessly exchanging affection together, growing dissapointed once it gets late.

As you prepare yourself to put your coat back on by the front door, Bruce gets held back by Alfred.

»You know, she can always stay over night. One night won‘t hurt, master Bruce.«

But he doesn‘t relent and shakes his head, a light frown stretching on his face. »I don‘t have time for this, Alfred.«

As quick as he dismissed his butler, he is right back at your side and helps to adjust your sleeves from your coat.

»Let me drive you home,« You go along without argument and follow him outside to the garage, sitting into the passanger seat and let him drive.

◐

»Bruce! We got invited to our first ever premiere-movie-party-thing!«

You exclaim as soon as he picks up the call, making him exhale in relief. After a short pause, he asnwers back.

»Premiere-moive-party-thing? I gotcha,« he chuckles, putting finally closing the big folder on his desk after studying it for hours, »I‘m pretty sure it‘s because we‘re the lead actors of the whole thing… and you are the director.«

His casual approach makes you roll your eyes, rolling onto your stomach in your bed. »Yes, but isn‘t it cool? I never went to one, what is that like? Do you think it‘ll be filled with annoying rich people?« You start twirling your hair as you continue to talk with him, listening to his response with a light smile.

»They‘re alway filled with ‘em. I always get black-out drunk, so it‘s easier to deal with it. The music isn‘t the greatest as well… it actually feels more like a frat party sometimes.« His description of it makes you chuckle, making Bruce smile in return.

»So… do you think we should go there anyways?«

»Of course we should. Especially you, makes your image go up higher.« He replies back without thinking too much. It makes sense, and you don‘t think too much about going to that party. You heard they will be some interviewers, so you better not get black-out drunk.

◐

Arriving outside the tall building, the bass that‘s heard from inside is making you lightly

intimidated. Taking a deep breath, you say your last prayer and enter. In the lobby, you need to check in and get a colourfull wristband, signalling your status so the security knows who to protect in an case of emergency. The others can save themselves.

shortly after you, Bruce arrives and goes through the same check-in as you. He spooks you lightly by snaking his hand onto your shoulder, earning a surprised gasp and smack to his chest.

»Sorry… having fun already?« He leans down to be at your eye-level and sneak in a gentle kiss, but quickly decides against it and smoothly straightens himself again. Although, he keeps his hand on your waist.

»I don‘t know, nothing happened yet. And I don‘t know where the drinks are, I‘m kinda nervous,« you hold your hands out for him, letting him see the light tremors coming from your nervousness. He frowns lightly upon seeing your hands, taking them into his warm ones.

»You don‘t have to worry so much, okay? Just a small party, you‘ll answer some questions and we can leave. How‘s that sound?«

You feel more comfortable after his assurance and nod, restraining yourself from leaning into him and being more affectionate.

Eventually, the party starts properly after more actors and other public-figures arrive, turning the music up a notch. Currently, you‘re having fun and enjoy some sweet, alcoholic drinks, relaxing further and taking things easy. Following Bruce‘s advice of drinking definitely worked, and you soon have your first interview as one reporter approaches you with a camera man by his side. After getting permission from you, the camera starts rolling and the reporter gets started.

»We‘ve already seen some sneak-peeks and the trailer alone gives us so much insight on your chemistry with Andy, so… was it difficult to master such energy or did it come naturally?«

Typical question to try and suck some possible gossip from an actor, but you are greatly used to it, eventually giving him your typical answer back.

»Oh, you know, it really depends if the actors are good or not. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn‘t, so it really depends on both actors to create the right perfomance.« Definitely not the answer the reporter was searching for, but he‘ll settle with it for now. Robert starts again, angling his microphone back to himself.

»What was hardest on this movie? The directing or acting with your own expectations and critique?« A more pleasant question to answer. You respond honestly, giving an open insight of how stressful it really was, being both the director and actor in one.

Eventually, Robert seems to back down with his questions after five more minutes, starting to build up a more casual conversation with you. Logically, you can‘t really back down from it and simply go along, listening to him talk and speak aswell.

»...Yes— and your dress? Seriously, I couldn‘t take my eyes off you the whole interview, I don‘t know why there aren‘t a line of men standing right behind you, waiting for your attention!« You chuckle along, although a bit forced. »No, seriously, I love the way you look tonight. Who was your stylist, I should give her a raise,« Robert steps closer to you, wearing a charming smile, the best one he can muster. You stay still and simply try to joke along and bear it through for a couple more moments, eyes daring out to search for back-up.

»Would you believe that I was her stylist for tonight? All my work.« Bruce steps in, seemingly appearing out of nowhere into the frame and casually lays his hand back onto your waist, wearing a smug smile. Robert pauses briefly before he catches himself and gets back to being a ‘casual-playful‘ reporter.

»No way! I‘ll make sure to write that into my news report later.« The reporter awkwardly says goodbye after receiving a light chuckle from the other and finally shuffles away from the both of you, camera man following him closely. You can barely make out the way Robert scolds his camera man for something that was most-probably not his fault anyway.

»Next time just scream really loud, I‘ll be there in no time.« Without wanting to cause any unnecessary attention, he squeeyes your waist and eventually gets back to the party, searching for some more interviewers too. Without any further thinking, you go back to the bar and get yourself another drink. One drink becomes two, and you make sure to stay leaned against something in order not to lose balance. You settle on being more in the backgrounds for now, but you quickly change your mind once they turn on some up-beat music and free the dance floor. It‘s already packed with other famous people, them being drunk too, no doubt. They happily include you into the chaos, dancing however to the beat all-together. You slip in another few drinks and shots during that time, just enjoying yourself and letting lose. Finally, after what seemed like too long and not enough, you get yourself off the dancefloor to have a quick trip to the bathroom.

With wobbly legs and aching feet, you manage to get there and freshen up, feeling lighter afterwards, but also way more drunk than before. You try to make your wy back to the dance floor, but you briefly lose your sense of orientation and simply stand there, trying to figure out how to get back to the fun girls.

»Are we ookay to head back home, darling?« A smooth voice asks from your side and almost makes you roll your eyes, not recognising it right away.

»Bruce!«

»Hey— yeah, that‘s me...« He chuckles softly, and catches you gently as soon as you lean in to hug him tightly. You feel the way his hands rub along your back before they stop at your sides and just keep you steady on your feet.

»Can we go now?« Bruce leans down to talk better to you, his breath brushing against you ear. You let out a soft giggle, leaning back and meet his eyes. It‘s clear to him that you will try your everything to at least get a last drink before driving home. As expected, you pout at him and glance back to the general direction of the dancefloor.

»No, darling, c‘mon...«

»Please?« You draw out and lean more into him, grabbing lightly onto his shirt. He takes you in, trying his best not to get distracted by your shiny eyes and cute behaivour, most likely trying to play it up for him. He manages to stay stubborn and shakes his head lightly, his expression growing soft.

»We have to go home, okay? It‘s too late and you‘ll regret it tomorrow.« He tries to be as gentle as possible, lightly rubbing your side with one hand. With a final huff, you slump a bit into him and give in. A faint smirk graces Bruce‘s face and carefully guides you out of the building, finally setting you inside the car with care.

The car ride was mostly filled with your yapping, being happy about the fun dances you had together with the strange women, still shining with excited energy, even after the party. Finally at your house, he takes care of you, carefully taking your make-up off before changing you into more comfortable clothes. You don‘t remember much after that, being out cold the second your blanket envelopes your form.

Waking up was the worst part. Your head pounds as if some gremlin is on top of it and slams a hammer onto you repeatedly. After sitting up, you realise that you are already in your fuzzy pyjamas and cleaned up. Not paying too much mind to it, you reach for your phone at your nightstand, almost knokcing off the glass of water on it. Surprised, you study your small table and pick the note off of it.

Hope your head won‘t kill you today. Cute pyjamas, by the way. -B.

←MASTERLIST

[perdidosbucky-yyo]

This might be my fav chapter yet!!!! 😩🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼

Bucky traded lazy kisses with you as your tears slowed, and you had no idea if it was his mouth that had your heart pounding and the crushing weight of everything that surrounded him.

Tingles, tingles everywhere 🥴😩 I just love their hold and pull dynamic it's addicting

“You’re putting a wall up,” he said, frowning as you grabbed your phone charger before he could. “Don’t shut me out, please.”

What does he expect?!! (I still felt a pang in my heart when he said this)

“This has been a lot, all of it, but we can’t go back and change it, and you know I can’t let you go because we’re meant to be together,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “You feel it. I know you do.”

How many times would he say that until you agreed? “Just because you think fate stepped in-”

How does he manage to sound unhinged and reasonable at the same time? 😭 I'm honestly starting to see his point

Bucky was hot on your heel and you didn't make it two steps out the door before he had a hand on you. “You’re upset with me. Putting up more of that wall.”

that wall 😩 he clearly despises the wall she puts up, he's had a tiny taste of her kind and vulnerable side and can't stand the thought of going back, he wants her vulnerable, raw, exposed, all to himself :')

“And you can push all you want, but I’ll just pull you closer,” he smiled, making you huff when he actually did so. “I’m not afraid to let you burn me.”

THIS MAN 💀 we're gonna die in his arms aren't we?

“Because even arguing with you makes me happy,” he sincerely stated. “And now all I want to do is find a way to put a smile back on your face.”

Ok but why does this make me so happy???

“You’re infuriating,” you whispered when he touched the corner of your mouth and made it twitch in a small smile. “Impossible.”

“I know,” he whispered back, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, you’re tired and you’re overwhelmed, which is completely my fault. Am I right?”

He was placating you now, and it was sadly working. “Fine,” you said, touching his hand, the metal one. “I don’t think I said so earlier, but thank you for finally telling me the truth,” you said, calmer than you were moments before.

HOW DID HE DO THAT???? RUNNING A HAND THROUGH HIS HAIR??? His hand on the corner of her lips??? I'M SAT. I was literally just as mad as reader and he really managed to calm me down too 🤯 excellent writing bestie

This was nothing like the slow, languid kisses from minutes ago. This was dominant, claiming, threatening to rob you of the air in your lungs, like he wanted you to feed your own breath into him. He either forgot Ray was there, or he simply didn’t care.

I- 🥴 this man doesn't care if she hates him or not does he? He's like a predator playing with his food, but at the same time he's so soft and wants nothing but to make her happy🥺.... My toxic trait is that I love him 🫡

“You're certainly keeping him on his toes,” Ray said, not driving off until he made sure Bucky was in his vehicle, too.

I could say the same thing about you Navy😩😂😂

I'm so scared of what comes next with Clark, he gives me the creeps jsjsjs more than Bucky tbh😂

But wow reader is learning to tame her beast and I'm so excited to see how that goes 😏

Hold You Tight: Part 16

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 15 | Series Masterlist | Part 17

Chapter Word Count: Over 5.4k

Chapter Summary: Bucky tries to pull you closer when you want to pull away, and someone else in your life my not take no for an answer.

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, arguing, tension, slight harassment, kissing, reference to stalking, inner turmoil, manipulation, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky traded lazy kisses with you as your tears slowed, and you had no idea if it was his mouth that had your heart pounding and the crushing weight of everything that surrounded him. It was so much to unpack. Every encounter with him seemed to be that way. Something blindsided you or suffocated you, but you hadn't been at all prepared for what he just shared. And how could you? He didn't keep photos of his mother around, and you hadn't gone poking around online.

Would you have found out the truth if you had?

He followed your lips when you pulled away. “It’s okay,” he whispered, pulling you back in.

It wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay. Though it partially made sense now why he was moving so fast. He believed if he met you then that you would've fallen in love and been together to this day. Because he didn't seek you out then and lost so much time, he was packing everything into a rushed time span. Dating, meeting his friends, getting you into his place. He was moving things along at an accelerated speed, and you were barely keeping up with the ride.

“No.” The muffled word against his lips somehow rang out loud and clear enough for him to stop, but you put a hand on his chest in case he tried to lean in again. “Why are you punishing me?”

His eyes rounded. “You think I’m punishing you? Jesus, why would you think that?”

“Because of how you went about all of this. I know you were desperate, and I get the drive behind some of your actions now,” you said, which you refused to excuse. You got it but couldn’t excuse it. “Your response of ‘where’s the fun in that?’ when I said you couldn’t just ask me out like a normal person? You almost seemed to delight in intimidating me. Why?”

If you saved his mom, why do this?

“I didn’t delight in that. I played it wrong,” he admitted in a quiet voice, surprising you. “I approached it like…”

“Like everything else in your life where you have everyone under your thumb through fear. You did the same thing to me.” You laughed just a little. “In a way, it worked because I’m officially afraid to try to leave you.”

Had things blossomed between you two organically, you’d like to believe that things would’ve been better. Healthy. There was always the chance that a relationship might’ve come to an end because life was like that. But if he frightened you enough to stay forever, he’d never have to worry. The stars would still align as far as he was concerned.

“I don’t want you to fear me or what we have,” he whispered, reaching for you as you scooted back.

“What we have? Tell me, do you think your mom would be proud of your actions to obtain me or ashamed?” You couldn’t believe that was the kind of man she raised, to put fear into the heart of the person he supposedly loved.

He flinched. Actually flinched. You might as well have raised a hand to him. “She…” He swallowed. “She would’ve wanted us together.”

“Like this? By you not giving me a choice?” you asked, pushing yourself up. “I need to go home.” There would be no getting through to him and this revelation was doing your head in. One cup of coffee wasn't enough either.

He got up to follow you. “Why are you rushing off?”

“I have a shift today, and I have to go home and shower,” you said, grabbing some of your things. “Don’t worry about dropping me off. I’ll get a cab.”

“What? No, you-”

“You put money in my account, so it’s not like I have to worry about paying for it. And it’s not like I’ll be alone either since you’ll have me followed whether I want it or not,” you said as a matter of fact.

“You’re putting a wall up,” he said, frowning as you grabbed your phone charger before he could. “Don’t shut me out, please.”

“I’m not shutting you out. I’m trying to process the gigantic bombshell you dropped on me,” you said, stopping to look at him when he grabbed your arm. “Bucky-”

“This has been a lot, all of it, but we can’t go back and change it, and you know I can’t let you go because we’re meant to be together,” he said, his eyes searching yours. “You feel it. I know you do.”

How many times would he say that until you agreed? “Just because you think fate stepped in-”

“Fate brought you into my club, but I gave it a much-needed push to bring us together after leaving things to chance for so long,” he said, tugging you closer and putting his other hand on your cheek. “You can’t tell me you don’t care about me in some capacity. You’re just afraid to admit it because it isn’t conventional in your eyes, but you don’t have to be afraid of how you feel.”

How could you truly fall in love with him when he orchestrated everything from the start? “Feelings or not you’re still going to force me to move in with you soon, and that scares me,” you said. Your wings would forever be clipped.

“We should’ve been living together and married by now,” he argued, keeping a tight hold on you. “I know I’m making you move in sooner than you want, but beyond safety it’ll give us a chance to really know each other before we get married.”

Talk of marriage had your heart thudding. The man would probably force you to marry him sooner than you wanted. “You said you already know everything about me,” you said. At least he thought he knew you. The vision of you he built up in his mind scared you, too. He couldn’t keep you on that pedestal.

“But you don’t fully know me yet, and I don’t know what it’s like to live with you. The experience will bring us closer together.” His smile was full of hope. “We can read together, do movie nights, dance in the kitchen.”

“Bucky-”

“We can exercise together, in and out of bed,” he continued, your breath hitching as he rubbed his nose against yours. “Don’t you already feel closer to me now that you know we're meant to be?”

A quick knock on the door followed by a long one saved you from answering. “It isn't check-out time, is it?”

“No. That would be Ray,” Bucky headed to the door and kept you back a small distance before he answered. The man really was protective, wasn't he?

“I’m sorry to intrude,” Ray said, giving you a polite nod before he leaned in and whispered something to Bucky. Whatever was said to him made his face harden. The entire change in his demeanor worried you.

“Kotyonok, let’s get your bag and get you back to your place so you can get ready for work,” he suggested, his smile tight.

“What’s the matter?” you asked.

“I’ll tell you later,” he answered, kissing your forehead. “And before we go, I know you suggested taking a cab, but please let Ray take you back to your place. It would make me feel better.”

The hint of a plea in his voice and the look in Ray’s eyes kept you from protesting. “Fine, Ray can take me home. Just give me a second to change out of these pajamas,” you said, a bit surprised that Bucky wasn’t offering to take you home himself. “But you are going to tell me later what’s going on, right?” you asked.

“I will, but I need some answers myself first. Get changed. I’ll get your bag,” he said, gently guiding you to the bathroom so you could change and officially ending that conversation.

Ray was still by the entry door once you came out, looking a bit stiffer than usual, too. You stole a glance at Bucky as the three of you headed to the elevator, catching the anger etched in his features as he gripped your bag handle tight enough that you thought it would rip. They were leaving you in the dark about something. You weren’t sure if you could take any other bombshells.

“Ray may need to pick you up from work instead of me, but I’ll message you if that’s the case,” Bucky said, fixing his hair in the elevator reflection. “And… we may need to talk about your girls’ day out.”

“What about it?” you asked, already knowing where he was going with this.

“If you can cancel or reschedule it,” he replied.

You stared hard at him. Where was that coming from? “No, it's tomorrow, and I’m not cancelling or rescheduling. And don’t you dare use Zemo as an excuse to get your way,” you snapped. Even if it was a valid reason, you didn’t want to hear it.

His jaw clenched, but he looked sad as he glanced at you. “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

“We talked about this. If it’s a safety issue, Ray agreed that someone could watch out for me. That should keep me safe,” you reminded him. You’d be fine. “Right, Ray?”

The blonde stared straight ahead. “That isn’t my decision,” he said apologetically.

Your shoulders slumped. For a short time, you thought he could be on your side or at least help give you some slack. “Right. Because you don't get to make decisions, and neither do I. You’re a bodyguard, I’m just a doll,” you said, looking straight ahead, too, and pulling your hand back when Bucky tried to take it. “Please, don’t.”

“Kotyonok…” Bucky sighed as the door opened. You marched out, not waiting for either of them. “Wait.”

You headed straight for the desk, feeling sadder when you didn’t see Natasha. “Checking out, please,” you said, sliding the room card over to the woman standing there.

“Of course. I hope you enjoyed your stay.” She looked behind you likely at Bucky before giving you a smile. “Ms. Romanoff also wanted to remind you that you have a place here if you need one.”

“I’m sure I’ll take her up on that soon,” you said, turning your head to glare at Bucky. While his expression was stoic, his eyes told you he didn’t want you to be upset with him. “And make sure she adds an inconvenience fee to the damaged wall bill. She’ll know what I mean.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” she smiled. “Take care.”

Bucky was hot on your heel and you didn't make it two steps out the door before he had a hand on you. “You’re upset with me. Putting up more of that wall.”

You didn't speak until Ray walked past you to get his car. “You’re trying to get me to cancel my day out with my friends, after you went through the whole charade of buying me a new dress for it and everything. And after what you told me about your mom.” You took a breath to try to calm down. “Yeah, I’m upset, and yeah, you’re supplying me with the very bricks to build that wall.”

“I said we may need to talk about it, I didn’t flat out say you weren’t going,” he corrected you. He might as well have. “I know it means a lot to you, but-”

You held a hand up. “No. There are no ‘buts’ in this. For all you keep taking from me, I don’t ask for much. I really don't,” you stated. In fact, you’ve shown lots of restraint. “Who knows how many moments I’ll get like this with my friends once you move me in.” He wasn’t about to take this small thing from you after everything.

He titled his head. “You think I’ll keep you from them?”

“Part of me thinks you will, yes. Because as soon as I think that there’s hope, the second I think that we could be closer together while you loosen the reins, you say or do something that puts me back in your full control,” you said. He had to see that. “And every time you do that, like you are right now, it makes me want to push you away.”

“And you can push all you want, but I’ll just pull you closer,” he smiled, making you huff when he actually did so. “I’m not afraid to let you burn me.”

“You keep saying that. Give me a match or a lighter and we’ll test that theory,” you said. He burst out laughing, the sound loud in the morning air as your eyes widened. “Why are you laughing?” you asked incredulously. How could he laugh when you were still worked up?

“Because even arguing with you makes me happy,” he sincerely stated. “And now all I want to do is find a way to put a smile back on your face.”

You exhaled. He was so in love with the idea of a relationship with you that arguments appealed to him? Anyone else would've walked away by now.

“You’re infuriating,” you whispered when he touched the corner of your mouth and made it twitch in a small smile. “Impossible.”

“I know,” he whispered back, running a hand through his hair. “Listen, you’re tired and you’re overwhelmed, which is completely my fault. Am I right?”

“Yes,” you sighed. He hit it right on the nose.

“And maybe I was rash in suggesting that you cancel your plans, but I need to take care of a couple things before we discuss that more,” he said, leading you to Ray's car before you could protest. “You just have a good shift, okay?”

He was placating you now, and it was sadly working. “Fine,” you said, touching his hand, the metal one. “I don’t think I said so earlier, but thank you for finally telling me the truth,” you said, calmer than you were moments before. He should've told you from the start, but it couldn't have been easy reopening old wounds regarding his dad.

His gaze softened. “Thank you for letting me.”

“And whatever Ray told you or whatever’s going on, just breathe, okay?” you begged.

He took a deep breath. “I’ll just think of you and it’ll help,” he said, adding in a low voice as he pulled you against him. “And this.”

This was nothing like the slow, languid kisses from minutes ago. This was dominant, claiming, threatening to rob you of the air in your lungs, like he wanted you to feed your own breath into him. He either forgot Ray was there, or he simply didn’t care.

By the time Bucky stopped kissing you and helped you into the car, you didn’t want to look either of them in the eye.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing your temple and shutting the door as your heart flip flopped. God, he was insufferable. Confusing. Obsessed.

“You're certainly keeping him on his toes,” Ray said, not driving off until he made sure Bucky was in his vehicle, too.

“Someone has to,” you said, staring out the window. “I’m going with my friends tomorrow. I don't care if he makes you drag me back,” you said. Unless your life was in some sort of immediate danger, there was no reason for you to skip out on meeting up with the girls.

“So you’re aware, the suggestion of you moving your day out has nothing to do with wanting to control you. He’s upset because of the news I delivered and he wants to keep you close,” Ray explained, making you feel a little bad.

“So, that news was the reason why you both changed your tune, and you can't tell me what that news is,” you guessed. If you were in some sort of danger though, surely Bucky would’ve said so. “He told me about his mom. How I saved her.”

Silence filled the vehicle. “So, you know the truth,” he said after a minute, his voice neutral. “Are you okay?”

“I’m trying to be,” you answered carefully. You really were.

“That’s all you can do,” he said before adding under his breath, “No good deed goes unpunished.”

You snorted. “I guess I'm living breathing proof of that.” It was ironic how an act of kindness put you on this path. “And as much as I don't like to wish pain upon people, I hope Bucky's dad got whatever he deserved.”

Winnie, from the short time you knew her, was nothing but wonderful. Bucky said the dahlia painting in his office served as a reminder that he would never do to you what his dad did to his mom. He would never set you up to take the fall for anyone else, wouldn’t let someone else hurt you if he could help it. He would forever stand by you.

Was pushing him away doing you any good?

“He did,” Ray promised you. “And I say with complete sincerity that I hope today is very uneventful for you after the time you've had.”

Your nose scrunched as you laughed. “So do I, Ray. So do I.”

Ray was kind enough to wait outside of your place as you showered and got ready for work, and didn't push you to talk more before he dropped you off at the shop. He was even kind enough to stop so you could get another cup of coffee. It helped improve your mood.

“There she is!” Kate smiled when you walked in. “Little miss not-so-single anymore.”

“Hey,” you giggled before you paused. “I didn't know you were working today. Did you switch shifts with someone?”

“God, the schedule’s all messed up. Mrs. Crandle called out for some business thing-”

“Business thing?” you asked, your brows pinched. She hardly ever took time off for things like vacation let alone a business thing without informing her staff.

“Yeah, I’m not really sure about all the details, but Lorraine ended up switching the whole schedule around. Mya’s coming in later, and I had to come in early, and your shift’s ending early.”

“What?” you frowned, checking the schedule to make sure. She was right. Your shift today was almost cut in half. “Would’ve been nice to get a text or something.”

The assistant manager wasn't bad to work with, but she could be a little forgetful with things like that. If Bucky hadn't just put money in your account, you may have been more upset over having half a shift cut. After the night and morning you had though, maybe an afternoon off wouldn't be so bad.

“She probably forgot since you were coming in at your normal time. Who knows?” Kate shrugged. “You know, I half expected Clark to be here waiting for you. Seemed really eager to see you yesterday.”

“Yeah, about that.” You looked toward the door, your body tense in anticipation even though he wasn't there. “Why did you tell him I was working today?”

“He’s kind of a regular, and I didn't really think about it. Then Mrs. Crandle brought up your boyfriend and…” Her face fell as she stopped cutting stems, which made you feel bad when she glanced your way. “Crap, I did something wrong, didn't I?”

You weren’t about to go into specifics regarding your personal situation. “I just don’t want customers to know when my shifts are unless I’m specifically working on an order or event for them, okay?” you said, hoping she understood that it was a general request.

Bucky was not getting in your head about your safety.

“Okay, as long as you aren’t mad,” she said. You gave her a smile to assure her that you were okay. “So, tell me about your new boyfriend.”

You filled her in as much as you could to make it sound believable, just like you had with Addison. Like her and Mrs. Crandle, Kate was excited for you. And they would never know the full truth.

As your shift went on, you were surprised you hadn't heard much from Bucky. It was for the best though. He was clearly dealing with something. As much as you didn't want to defend him in your mind, it had taken a lot for him to talk about his parents. To show you some of the damage done to his body. It was a vulnerable moment. Did you owe it to him to be vulnerable, too?

Wait, why did you owe him anything?

“Heading out?” Kate asked once your shift was up.

“Yeah,” you replied, glancing at your phone. You wondered if you should text Bucky before you decided against it. You'd let him know once you got to your place that you wouldn't need a ride. “Just call me if you need me to come back in.”

“Don’t worry about that. Enjoy the rest of your day!” she smiled.

Satisfied when you didn't see Bucky or Ray’s car waiting for you either, you decided to take a walk. It was a nice day, and you needed the fresh air. You hoped the weather was nice for the winery. You’d have to take photos to look back on what was going to be a fun time.

“Hey!” you heard someone shout after a few minutes of walking.

You stopped when you spotted Clark waving at you from the other side of the street. You barely waved back before he joined you. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood,” he smiled, pushing his glasses up. “You done working already?”

“Yep,” you said, adjusting your bag. “And I should really-”

“Could we talk for a minute?” he asked.

You hesitated before nodding. “Sure,” you said, falling in step beside him.

“You know, I actually went to the shop to buy you flowers yesterday. I was going to buy you some roses,” he smiled.

Oh, God. “You were?”

“Yeah, but you weren’t there and… It doesn’t matter,” he smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “But I was thinking… Maybe we could grab a coffee sometime? My treat.”

The hopeful look in his eyes made a pit form in your stomach. “Clark, I’m seeing someone,” you said, his blue eyes dimming. Hadn’t Kate said that Mrs. Crandle brought up that you were in a relationship? “It’s fairly new, and I don’t want to mess things up,” you explained, though he wasn’t owed an explanation.

“I didn’t want to believe it,” he mumbled, kicking a small rock on the sidewalk. “Well, if it’s fairly new, I'm sure you can get coffee with other people.”

“Get coffee with people? Yes. But this kind of sounds like a date, and I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m sorry,” you said. That would feel like cheating even if you didn't consider it a date, and you weren't that kind of person.

“Then we won’t call it a date,” he grinned.

Maybe you were feeling paranoid, but there was something weird behind his smile. “You just got out of a relationship, and I don’t want to send mixed signals by agreeing to go with you.”

His smile shook a bit. “It's just a coffee.”

“Is it?” The longer he stared, the more odd things felt, and you didn’t like it. “Listen, when you find someone else to give flowers to I’d be happy to pick some out for you.”

“I don't understand.” He laughed, but it sounded bitter. “You’ve always been nice to me.”

“Well, yeah. You’ve always been kind, too, when you come into the shop.”

“Too nice for someone like Bucky Barnes,” he muttered, his smile disappearing completely.

You gaped at him, almost faltering in your step. “What did you just say?”

“I said you’re too nice for someone like Bucky Barnes,” he said louder, his ire clear as day. “You think I don’t know about his reputation? He’s dangerous, and you’re too good for him.”

“How do you know I’m dating him?” you asked. And what did he know about his reputation?

He was quiet for a moment. “Mrs. Crandle said his name, and she has no idea what kind of man he is,” he said, making you feel uneasy. “I don’t think you do either.”

Oh, you knew plenty. “I appreciate your concern, really, but it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Well, I do. And I just don’t see why we can’t have one cup of coffee together,” he said, flashing a smile again. “It’ll be fun.”

“Because you know I’m seeing someone,” you said. He knew it before he bumped into you, but was still pushing for you to go with him. “And I also kind of make it a rule not to date customers,” you added, stopping when you got to your building. You walked faster than you thought.

“Well, rules should have exceptions, right? And if Bucky cared so much, where is he? Why wasn’t he waiting to pick you up and take you home?” he pressed, his eyes narrowing when you dug into your purse. “Maybe he doesn’t care about you as much as you think.”

Your next breath came out shaky. He hadn’t raised his voice at you, but you didn’t appreciate the third degree, or the implication that Bucky didn’t care. “Because he’s a busy man who sometimes works both days and nights. I don’t expect him to drop everything just to take me home.”

“If you took a chance on me, you’d never have to worry about things like that.”

You were starting to feel nauseous. “Well, sometimes I like the quiet after the bustle of the shop, so walking helps me decompress. And I can't take a chance on you when I’m seeing someone else.” Why was he being so pushy?

He took a small step closer. “You know, it’s dangerous to walk home alone.”

You took a step back, your keys between your fingers. “You’re right about that,” you agreed. The only reason you did so today was to take back a little control, which didn’t seem so smart now.

“I can start walking you home if you want,” he smiled, towering over you. Was he always so imposing? “When’s your next shift?”

You managed a smile in return, but it was extremely forced. “Clark, that’s really not necessary, but thank you for the offer. Enjoy the rest of your day.”

He gently took your arm when you turned toward the door, worry crawling up your spine when his hand tightened a fraction. You suddenly wish you had Bucky or Ray around. “I really don’t mind.”

“My boyfriend will mind, and I’m sure you can understand that. So it’s a no on the coffee and the walks home,” you said gently but firmly, pulling your arm back and rubbing the spot where Clark grabbed you. He wasn’t listening. It somehow felt worse than Bucky and you couldn’t pinpoint why. Was it because Clark tried to act nice? “It’s been a long few days, and I’m going to get some rest. Have a nice day, okay?”

His eyes narrowed again, but it was his chilling smile that unnerved you. “I’m sure I'll see you again soon. We’ll have to get that coffee,” he said, walking off before you could say another word.

You rushed into the building once he was out of sight, your hands shaking. It may have been from the confrontation or the combination of everything. Maybe Clark was just lonely and latched on a bit because you were nice. Hadn't Bucky done something similar?

But if Clark wanted to see you, why hadn't he just gone into the shop if he knew you were working?

Double checking your locks once you were in your apartment, you took a breath and stared at your phone once you sat down. You had to talk to Bucky. He answered within a few seconds of you calling.

“Kotyonok, is everything okay?” he asked, sounding both happy and concerned to hear from you.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” you asked, hearing a few other men speaking in the background.

“Because you’re calling me and not texting. And you sound a little off. What’s wrong?”

“Everything’s fine,” you lied. How did he recognize that you felt off? “I just wanted you to know that the assistant manager changed my shift, so I went home early.”

“Wait, you’re already home?” he asked. The background noise suddenly stopped. “Did you get a cab? Please tell me you didn’t walk back to your place.”

“…Fine, I won’t tell you that.”

Bucky let out an impressive string of curse words as you pulled the phone away from your ear. “That’s not safe. You know it isn’t,” he hissed, but you knew he wasn’t actually angry with you. Just the situation. And bumping into Clark today and Zemo the day before, he had a bit of a point. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you? Because I said it may not be a good idea to go out with your friends.”

You closed your eyes. He was not going to make you feel bad. “I just needed a breather, okay? And I made it home just fine.”

“But did you? How do I know someone didn’t follow you?” he asked. Clark’s face flashed in your mind when you stayed quiet. “…Kotyonok, did someone follow you?”

“No one followed me that I know of,” you said. You really didn't have any idea. “But… I did bump into Clark. He was in the neighborhood.”

“Clark? That guy from the shop who tried to give you flowers just happened to be in your neighborhood when I wasn't around?” he asked, fury seeping into his tone as you winced.

“I… I’m sure it was a coincidence,” you said. Placating him in this wasn’t going to work, but you had to try.

“That isn’t a fucking coincidence and we both know it. Did he say anything? Try anything?”

You shut your eyes. It would be like ripping off a band-aid. “He asked me to go get a cup of coffee with him, but I told him I was seeing someone.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “He asked you out?” he asked, making you shift in your seat. “Why the fuck do I not have a file on him yet?!” he snapped at someone in the background.

“I’m working on it, boss!” you heard someone promise. “Should I call-”

“No. I’ll call him myself,” Bucky growled.

Who was he talking about? “Bucky, it’s okay. The guy asked me out and I said no,” you assured him. You weren't going to go out with Clark. “I’m sure women throw themselves at you every day and you turn them down.”

“They don't ‘bump’ into me in my neighborhood. And had you told me you were leaving early, I could’ve made sure this guy didn’t go anywhere near you. I don’t even want him near your shop until I know more about him,” he said, his anger not lessening. “If he tries anything, I will tear him apart piece by fucking piece,” he promised you, the intensity in his tone making your throat go dry.

“That isn’t necessary,” you whispered.

He sighed. “Why would you deliberately put yourself in a spot like this just to prove a point? Be pissed at me, I can take that, but do not risk your safety,” he said, adding in a quieter voice, “I couldn’t take it if something happened to you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, hating how guilty you felt, how worried he sounded on your behalf. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to worry you,” you said. It was stubborn and dumb on your part, and now you were afraid that Bucky really would try to cancel your day out tomorrow. You couldn’t let him. “I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“Make it up to me?” he asked. That seemed to get his attention. “How are you going to do that?”

“I’ll…” you began, steadying yourself. Natasha said you had power, and maybe you’d have to test that sooner than you expected. “Stay at your place tonight.”

You could hear a pin drop from the quiet. “You’ll stay the night?” he asked, his voice moving like lava through your veins.

“Yes,” you whispered, hammering the nail in the coffin.

“Give me two hours and I'll come get you,” he said, his voice strained, eager. “Be ready.”

“I will be.”

God, you hoped you knew what you were doing.

Oh, Clark. He's a problem now, isn't he? What do we think Ray told Bucky? And what's going to happen when you spend the night? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[persephoneggsy]

Phryne Ingellvar Banter

writing full fics is still kind of exhausting to me, so I've taken to writing fake banters for my Mourn Watch Rook, Phryne Ingellvar. Most of them are with Emmrich, because he's her romance, but maybe I'll eventually expand on her relationships with the other members of the Veilguard. A lot of this is mostly bits and bobs from Phryne's backstory.

*

[During Emmrich's recruitment quest, as they’re traversing through the Necropolis]

Emmrich: Surely we’ve crossed paths before, Rook? It seems bizarre that we’ve both been Watchers for so long and never interacted. I swear the name Ingellvar sounds familiar…

Phryne: Well, I mostly did grunt work. Escorts for trainees entering the Necropolis for the first time, protecting mourners visiting the graves. That sort of thing. Probably not what you spent most of your time doing.

Emmrich: Ah, I see. Still…

Phryne: Though we have met before.

Emmrich: Oh? I’m sorry, I can’t recall…

Phryne: Don’t worry about it, Professor. It was almost a decade ago, and it was brief.

Emmrich: Well, you remembered. I hope I made a good first impression, at least?

Phryne: I don’t think you’re capable of leaving a bad one, from what I’ve seen so far.

Harding: Um, sorry to interrupt, but can we maybe focus on the horde of despair demons charging at us right now?

Phryne & Emmrich: Spirits!

Harding: Whatever!

*

[When Phryne goes to see how Emmrich is settling in]

Emmrich: When did we meet, Rook? It’s been driving me mad.

Phryne: Oh, alright. It was at a funeral. My son’s. You administered his final rites and prepared his body for burial.

Emmrich: Oh! Of course. I remember now.

Phryne: Really? It was so long ago, and I’m sure you’ve performed dozens of final rites over the years. I wouldn’t be upset if you couldn’t recall…

Emmrich: Not many Nevarrans left to join the Inquisition. It was seen as a primarily “southern” concern, despite the danger it posed to all of Thedas. I remember thinking that young Rothe Ingellvar must have been a fine young man, to give his life for such a cause. 

Phryne: He was. 

Emmrich: I’m sure I said it back then, but my condolences, Rook. 

Phryne: Thank you, Emmrich. 

*

Emmrich: I’ve been wondering something, Rook. If you don’t mind a personal question. 

Phryne: Ask away. 

Emmrich: We’ve been in the Mourn Watch for almost the same number of years. You’re an incredible warrior, a natural born leader, and every other Watcher I’ve asked has nothing but wonderful things to say about you. 

Phryne: Aw. Thanks. But… what’s the question?

Emmrich: By all accounts, you should be extremely high up in the ranks. But by your own admission, you’re just “a grunt.” Why haven’t you been promoted?

Phryne: Ah. Well. They tried, at first. But I joined the Watch after I had my kids, so they were my priority. Promotions meant more responsibility, more responsibility meant more time away from them. And then, after rejecting promotions for years, they finally stopped trying. Happily been a grunt ever since. 

Emmrich: I suppose I can understand that. But wouldn’t a promotion also mean more money with which to support your family?

Phryne: My mother left me with her estate when she passed. We were always comfortable. I just wanted as much time with my kids as possible. 

Emmrich: That’s very admirable. 

Phryne: Really? Mother always said my lack of ambition was my fatal flaw. 

Emmrich: I think love for one’s family outweighs that. 

*

Emmrich: The Battleaxe!

Phryne: Sorry?

Emmrich: Your surname, Ingellvar — it’s been nagging at me, but I finally remember where I’ve heard it before! Your mother was Prudence Ingellvar, the Battleaxe!

Phryne: Oh! (Laughs) I forgot they used to call her that. Yeah, that was my mother. You knew her?

Emmrich: I’m afraid I never had the good fortune, but I knew her reputation. A staunch traditionalist, to be sure, but such exemplary understanding of anatomy and theory! Her essay on both magical and mundane methods of preserving vital organs was quite innovative!

Phryne: Oh, she would’ve adored you. 

*

[After revisiting the Necropolis for the first time and speaking with Myrna and Vorgoth]

Emmrich: Phryne?

Phryne: Yes?

Emmrich: Just making sure I heard correctly. Back at the Necropolis, Myrna called you ‘Phryne’ rather than ‘Rook’. Is that your given name?

Phryne: Oh, it is. Rook is a… recent nickname. Varric started calling me that after we met. Something about chess pieces.

Emmrich: What would you prefer to be called?

Phryne: Rook is probably easier. No one could ever pronounce Phryne right when I was younger. The number of times I was called ‘Frine’ or ‘Fern’...

Emmrich: (laughs) A shame. It’s a lovely name.

Phryne: Well. I like it when you say it.

Emmrich: Very well. Phryne.

*

[During their first date]

Phryne: This is one of the more romantic dates I’ve been on. 

Emmrich: How wonderful! I was afraid I’d lost my touch. Between work and research and teaching Manfred, there hasn’t been time lately for company. 

Phryne: I know what you mean. 

Emmrich: Do you?

Phryne: Well, I spent the last year or so hunting down Solas. Not a lot of time for courting. And even before that, I’d… sort of given up on romance. 

Emmrich: Oh. May I ask why?

Phryne: Dating’s hard with kids. I always had someone willing to look after them if I had plans for the evening, but a lot of the time, people were put off by the fact that I even had children. Or the kids would hate them for whatever reason. Or things would work out for a while before fizzling out. So I stopped focusing on relationships and just focused on… the physical side of things. 

Emmrich: I see…

Phryne: Does that… bother you? My ‘experience’? I know some people find it unladylike. 

Emmrich: My dear, I would never hold your past against you. I’m only marveling at my good fortune, to be the one to show you how a proper courtship works. 

Phryne: Ooh. Bold words, Volkarin. Are you sure you have the skills to back up that confidence?

Emmrich: You’re not the only one with experience, darling. 

*

[After Harding asking about whether Emmrich is a noble]

Harding: So you’re really not nobility? Volkarin just sounds so… fancy. 

Emmrich: It’s a commoner’s name. My father was a butcher and my mother was a cook. If you want to speak to Nevarran nobility, you could always ask Rook. 

Harding: (laughs) Right. 

Emmrich: …

Harding: … Wait, really? Rook is a noble?

Phryne: You don’t need to sound so surprised. 

Harding: It’s just… you don’t really act like…

Phryne: To my mother’s chagrin, I know. But in my defense, I was adopted. 

Emmrich: Oh, truly? I hadn’t known that. 

Phryne: Mother and a few of our undead found me in an abandoned crypt when I was just an infant. She took me in, raised me as her own. 

Emmrich: How sweet! I’d heard one of our own was a cryptling, I had no idea it was you!

Harding: … You were found in a tomb? As a baby?

Emmrich: That isn’t so unusual in Nevarra. Many Watchers see them as an omen!

Phryne: Whether I was a good or bad omen depended on if I took a nap that day. According to my mother. 

Harding: … Nevarrans are so weird. 

[dreamcsc]

left or right? fuck that, go up! ❧ seokmin

this is my last post of 2024 so i just wanna say, thank you guys for all the love and support you’ve show this blog over this month. i’m so grateful that i am privileged to be able to share my passion and something that is a part of me. as much as i say i love writing, i always find myself questioning my love for it because i truly believe that i suck. but at the end of the day, i always come back to my first love. i just want to encourage every one that, it’s okay to question your love for your passion. it’s a part of growth in your craft. but always, always, put your mental and physical health first. in order to be good at your craft, you must live well enough to be able to do it.

once again, not beta read. merry belated christmas / holiday to those with a heavy heart and feels stuck in life. take that breath, baby. slow down, you will be fine.

you never really put a label on anything, more of a realistic and raw kind of person, and leaving things as they were. this means that calling lee seokmin way past midnight sounded a stretch in your friendship—but seokmin always seem to be different than you expected.

because the moment he heard his phone ring exactly at one in the morning and the caller ID showed a picture he secretly took of you with one of the prettiest smile, he came running to you.

“seokmin, are you here yet?” you find yourself calling out through the phone, tears threatening to fall.

you had been stuck in your apartment, cooped up at your tiny table in your bedroom. your appearance is not presentable, you were aware of that. writer’s block had always been this bad for, had your head aching, and your expectations diminished. it took exactly an hour to write the starting sentence in the second book of your series. still, you find yourself nitpicking at the little wording of it.

seokmin’s voice responds with panting, “yes, i’m here. i’ll welcome myself in, don’t worry about getting me.” he reassures you without you needing to point out your insufficiency.

the call is cut after you gave your thanks and you lowered your head in exhaustion. questions of if writing was this difficult for you, ‘why did you even try’ comes rushing to you like storms. if writing the first part of your story is taking this much toll on you? why even try anymore?

however, it was like heaven-sent when, “oh, baby,” rings throughout your apartment. it was seokmin’s angelic voice, and in matter of seconds, you are being gently pulled into a soft embrace, and you almost melted. almost.

“how long have you been at it, love?” seokmin asks you while patting out your hair. you respond with a sigh, “more than i need to be.” you unwillingly admitted.

seokmin frowns deeply, “no breaks yet?” you nod your head, ashamed and hoping you won’t get scolded by him. it was clear you were at your last straw—one more trigger and you’ll actually jump of a cliff.

but the scoldings never came. instead, “was it difficult for you?” you hear seokmin’s angelic voice ask again. the tears are now wanting to fall once again, but you didn’t dare let them.

“you must have been struggling a lot. haven’t you? i know it all, my love. i know it all, it’s okay.” and there goes the wall you’ve built around yourself. they fell like water, flowing like storms yet so still. seokmin’s hands tightly wraps around you as words start spilling without your permission.

“i’m scared, seokmin. i’m scared that i’ll lose my passion for writing if i can’t get such small thing right. i’m scared i’ll be proving others and my parents right—that this job of mine is not worth the risk. i’m—i’m afraid i’ll be proving myself wrong. i feel like i’m forced to choose a side, and i don’t want that. it feels like i’m running an endless race if i don’t pick any sides—my passion or the expectations. i don’t know what to do anymore. i need answers. i need solutions! i don’t know what to do with myself!”

seokmin hums in acknowledgment, his hug still tight as ever. it was like he didn’t want to let go of you, didn’t want you to let go of yourself.

“my love, shh. please, slow down, breathe. take a deep breathe for me, yeah?” seokmin reassures you.

“even if you feel like you’re in an endless race, maybe, just maybe. not running can be an answer you need. running itself is tiring enough. and so what if you stop running for a while just to take a breath? it means that you’re still alive, breathing. and even if you’re stumped at which direction to head, the sky is an answer too.”

though the words seokmin says to you are serious, you couldn’t help but bitterly chuckle. “i can’t fly, seokmin. i can’t reach the stars just for this little passion of mine.”

seokmin shakes his head in disapproval and gently places his palms on the side of your cheeks, staring deeply into your eyes. a smile grace over his lips as he speaks.

“you already have the stars in your eyes, hand-picked from the sky.”

likes / reblogs / comments are appreciated.

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Never Gonna Be Alone - Part Three

Summary: When a friend from college contacts you about renting out your spare bedroom to her brother, you aren't really sure what to expect.

Pairing: Modern!Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~4.5k

Author's Note: Writing has been kicking my ass lately! Happy new year!

Warnings for the entire series: language, drug & alcohol use, sex, possible angst, pining & yearning, miscommunication, bit of a slow burn, and a lot of fluff, plus me attempting to be a comedian.

Masterlist | Playlist

You said, “I’m not in love with him!” Practically shouted it, flopping face-first onto your bed with the grace of a falling tree. The mattress let out a pitiful creaking noise beneath your weight as if it, too, was tired of your antics. Your best friend watched the tantrum via FaceTime, amused as she propped her head on her hand and quirked an eyebrow. Then, noticing her expression, you vehemently followed that up with, “I’m not!” 

She hummed in response, “Maybe if you say it enough times, it’ll stick, but I doubt it.”

Your eyes nearly got stuck from how hard you rolled them. There was no way that you were going to convince her when you couldn’t even convince yourself, though, you were damn sure going to try. “If I am so in love with him, then why do I find him so annoying?” 

“Oh, now he’s annoying?” She asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Please tell me more.”

“Yes, annoying, it’s honestly kind of suspicious,” you could tell she wasn’t buying it, but you pressed on regardless. “I mean, it’s weird, like how thoughtful he is– who does that? He picks up after himself, he always leaves me the last slice of pizza, he asks about my day and then actually listens to what I have to say. It’s completely unnerving!” 

Your friend pursed and twisted her lips to the side to hide her growing smirk.

“Why are you smiling?” You asked, expression bewildered. Her’s remained unchanged. “This isn’t funny, I’m being serious. He’s ruining my life!”

“By being nice to you?” she asked, still laughing. 

You flipped onto your back with a groan and flung an arm over your eyes, as though shielding yourself from the truth, “Yes, by being nice to me! I wish that he just… wouldn’t! He’s my roommate. I’m not in love with him, okay? I can’t be. If this goes sideways, I’m fucked. I can’t exactly afford to burn this bridge.” 

She snorted, “So this is about rent now, got it.” 

You sat up in bed, ready to retaliate, but the familiar jingle of keys and the soft click of the deadbolt froze you in place. Your cheeks burned, a maroon blush creeping up your neck, as you became suddenly aware of just how thin the walls were in this godforsaken building– and just how loud your conversation had been. 

As you moved to shut your bedroom door, your pulse was irritatingly noticeable as it drummed in your ears, skipping beats loud enough that your neighbors were sure to hear. And then Aegon stepped out of the foyer and into view, and you hesitated, the door only halfway closed as you took in the sight of him; perpetually handsome, with a paper grocery bag tucked under his arm, as he kicked off his shoes and dropped his keys on the side table by the front door. 

“Hey,” he said softly, catching your eye before giving the bag a little lift. “I stopped at the store on the way home so that you didn’t ‘ave to. Picked up everythin’ on the list.” 

“Oh, thanks,” you replied, praying that your voice didn’t betray the way your pulse was still hammering against your rib cage. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I was already out,” his lips pulled into a downward smile as he shrugged nonchalantly, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to still. His gaze lingered just longer than necessary, sending a ripple of awareness through you, making you straighten your posture. “Well, anyway, didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

“You didn’t,” the words tumbled from your lips quickly, probably too quickly, betraying your seemingly calm facade– when internally, you were on the verge of imploding. Before you had the chance to embarrass yourself, you gave him a tight-lipped smile and moved towards the door to escape. “Just talking to a friend. I’ll see you later for Helaena’s art show?”

Aegon nodded, shifting his weight as though he had more to say, but before he could, you shut the door– not harshly, just enough to put some needed distance between you. The moment the door clicked into place, you turned, pressing your back against it and taking a deep breath to steady yourself. Your eyes were glued to the ceiling as if it held the answers as to why you somehow managed to overthink your way into making a fool of yourself every time he glanced in your direction. Sure, it probably wasn’t as bad as you were making it out to be, but what if it was? 

“Um, hello?” Your friend's voice reverberated through the phone, reminding you that she was still a part of this moment. Out of habit, you rolled your eyes as you held the phone back out in front of your face. “Glad to know I’m totally interruptible.” 

“Shut up,” you sighed and flung yourself back on your bed. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Wait!” She exclaimed quickly before you could end the call. “I just have to ask, honey, do you always look that flustered when you talk to him, or was that a special performance just for me?” 

As she began laughing, you promptly hung up, jabbing the screen with your finger aggressively before face planting into your pillow with a dramatic grunt. Meanwhile, you could still hear Aegon paddling around in the kitchen, the faint sound of him putting things away; that soft, almost rhythmic rustling. It was comforting, picturing him with his sleeves pushed up around his elbows as he washed the dishes or the simple autonomic task of sorting through the junk mail or recycling. 

You truly hated thinking about it, because why torture yourself? As much as you fantasized about living in this perfect little bubble with Aegon forever, as much as you would love to continue on just like you were for the rest of your lives, you knew that eventually this would come to an end. Eventually, someone would move on and start a life somewhere else, most likely with someone else. You’ll settle for always having to put someone’s shoes away and putting the seat down yourself, and he’ll meet someone smarter and more successful. 

And for the rest of your life, you’ll always wonder. 

You held up in your room for the rest of the evening, not wanting to face him (or give yourself an opportunity to word vomit all of your affections) until you absolutely had to, and you did absolutely have to– otherwise fake an excuse to get out of going to Helaena’s first art show, and you couldn’t do that. When you finally emerged from your room, Aegon was already waiting for you, sitting back on the couch, scrolling through his phone with one arm draped lazily over the backrest. He was wearing a simple, dark green button up with the sleeves rolled back a couple of times around his forearms– allowing his tattoos to peak out just slightly– and a pair of black shorts.

It was physically impossible not to stare, but you tried your hardest. 

He glanced up as you crossed the living room, his lips twitching into a crooked smile as he stood up and slipped his phone into his pocket, “Thought you might’ve ditched me.” 

“Not a chance,” you replied with forced confidence.

Aegon grabbed his keys off of the side table and spun them around his index finger before he opened the front door; the warm, late summer breeze inviting you out into the night, “Shall we?”

The bar was tucked away on a quiet corner. A little slice of originality and warmth in the middle of the city. It didn’t scream luxury– which you typically associated with the Targaryen name– but it did have its own charm; low, cozy lighting, secondhand furniture, and walls adorned with local art. There was something real about the space, with its twinkling string lights and lingering scent of leather. It may not have been what you were expecting, but it didn’t take long to realize how perfectly it fit Helaena’s down-to-earth vibe.

Your date-for-the-night slipped off to the bar as you slipped in between intricate displays of artwork. Helaena’s primary talent was embroidery, but what was unique about her work is that she tied the embroidery into her paintings. One piece in particular caught your eye– an almost surreal depiction of a city at dusk with buildings that blurred into one another and golden threads that pulled your gaze upwards towards a beaded night sky. 

A few moments passed as you stood there, staring at the artwork, utterly mesmerized, until you could feel Aegon’s presence beside you. His footsteps were quiet, but you had become accustomed to the gravitational pull that seemed to follow him over the last few months. When you glanced over to him, his eyes were glued to the painting, expression unreadable.

“This the one?” He asked, handing you a glass of wine before taking a swig of his bottled IPA. 

“The one?” Your brows knitted together as you looked at him.

“For the flat,” his head tilted to the side and he had a playful glint in his eye. “Personally, I think we need something on the wall by the window.”

His casual use of the word ‘we’ sent a flutter straight to your chest; a warmth blooming behind your ribs. For a brief, dizzying moment, you pictured leaning in and kissing him right there in the middle of the bar as if he had just gotten down on one knee and proposed to you– yes, we can decorate our apartment together! The mental image was so vivid that it made your cheeks flush. Quickly, you masked the momentary lapse by taking a deliberate sip of wine and letting its tartness refocus your thoughts as you glanced back at the artwork in front of you. 

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how empty that wall is,” he continued after a few moments of silence. “It’s borderline depressing.” 

A small laugh escaped your lips, “I didn’t know you felt so strongly about wall art.”

He shrugged, leaning in to examine the painting more closely. “Look, as your roommate, I’m just trying to help. We can’t have people comin’ over and thinking we lack taste.”

There’s that word again.

“Mm, so this is about your reputation,” you teased, turning slightly to face him.

“Obviously,” he deadpanned, though the corner of his mouth twitched, “You think I want to live in a place that screams College Dorm Chic? No offense.”

“None taken,” you shook your head and bit back a smile. “But I’ll have you know I graduated from that aesthetic years ago.”

“Oh, my apologies,” he said with mock sincerity, holding his hands up defensively. “What I meant to say was ‘recently post-grad but still shopping for furniture in the discount aisle’, better?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your pulse continued to quicken with every word he spoke. “You’re so generous with your compliments. Truly, it’s a gift.” He shrugged in response and you took another sip of your wine. “But what makes this the one?”

“Because of the way you look at it,” he said without missing a beat. 

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and rendering you speechless. Your lips parted, but no clever retort came to mind. Instead, you glanced back at the piece, searching for some grounding in its soft brush strokes before you could launch yourself into a full panic attack. 

Almost on queue, Helaena’s voice cut through the quiet tension with an exuberant squeal. You flinched as the spell was suddenly broken, and took a step back instinctively. Aegon’s jaw tightened for the briefest second before he turned toward his sister as she appeared out of the crowd with a bright smile and her usual buoyant energy, completely oblivious to what she was interrupting. 

“You made it,” Helaena exclaimed as she collided with her brother in a tight embrace. Her eyes clamped shut as she squeezed him, and you could see how much it meant to her that he was there. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t show.”

Aegon stepped back, checking his watch with furrowed brows, “You said eight o’clock.”

Helaena grinned, completely unfazed, “Seven.” Aegon rolled his eyes, but before he could say anything more, Helaena turned to you. “I’m so glad you’re here!” She pulled you into a tight hug, her energy infectious. “You look amazing!”

“Oh, thank you,” you smiled warmly at her compliment. “Sorry we were late.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it from this one,” she nudged her brother in the ribs. “He’ll be late to his own funeral one day.”

“And better off for it,” he interjected. 

Somewhere in the bar, you hear someone call Helaena’s name. She turns her attention to the crowd and sticks her hand up in the air, waving enthusiastically at a group of people standing near the bar, “Well, now that you’re here, there’s someone I want you to meet!” 

Aegon groans and throws his head back, “Stop trying to pimp me out to your friends, I’m not interested!” 

“Since when?” She laughs, her excitement on the brim of bubbling over as she grabbed her brother’s arm and tugged him toward the far side of the room.

As she led him away, Aegon glanced back at you, his eyes catching yours for a fleeting second. You smiled softly at him and tried not to think too much about it, but there was something there– a flicker of something unfinished. And then, he was gone, swallowed up by the crowd, leaving you standing there with your thoughts and the phantom weight of regret. 

You exhaled slowly, gripping the stem of your wine glass a little tighter as you downed what was left with a hefty gulp. For the majority of the evening you lingered on the outskirts of other people’s conversations, mingling with people you’d seen once or twice on campus; doing anything you could to keep your attention averted from Aegon, from the way he looked at you, from the way he looked right through you. Every now and again your eyes would find their way back to where he was, the center of attention, standing too close to one of Helaena’s pretty friends. 

You wondered if you looked at him the same way she was right now, if it was that obvious. 

What clearly wasn’t obvious enough was how uninterested you were in talking about the stock market with Greg– or maybe it was Craig– from your Urban Environmentalism class who had ‘always wanted to strike up a conversation but never had the guts’ (his words), but clearly found them after his third beer. When the topic turned to politics, however, you politely excused yourself and made a beeline for the restroom before you wound up with a headache from the unsolicited TED Talk on the nuances of trickle-down economics. 

You exhaled deeply as you locked yourself in a stall, crashing out on the toilet with a pathetic groan as you held your head in your hands, staring at the cracks in the tiled floor. 

Suddenly you’re filled with regret, not knowing that agreeing to be his plus one to his sister’s art show would inadvertently make you the odd woman out; watching him charm everyone in the room while you hovered on the edges, trying not to be too obvious about the way your eyes gravitated towards him every few moments. Maybe you should have just said no and saved yourself the torment of playing out every scenario of how this night would end– Aegon stumbling home with that girl, their quiet colloquies echoing through your thin walls, sitting in your bed forced to listen to her stifled sighs knowing it should be you in her place. 

After a long breath and a lot of internal monologue, you stood and straightened your outfit before you stepped out of the stall. You aren’t exactly sure how long you’d been using the bathroom as your personal sanctuary, but the small line of impatient girls with fixed frowns waiting outside suggested it had been long enough. You gave them a short but polite smile as an apology and reluctantly joined the party once more, only the air felt much heavier now; the mixture of pop music and laughter started to grate on your nerves quickly. 

I need a drink.

You headed towards the bar with purpose, avoiding eye contact with the groups of people you passed, hoping that no one would try and rope you into another unbearable conversation. The bartender noticed you immediately and gave you a silent nod, letting you know he was working on it. While you waited, a familiar voice drifted over the noise, drawing your attention despite your better judgement. Aegon stood a few feet away, leaning casually against the bar with his back to you. 

“Let me get this straight,” it was Helaena’s voice. “You’ve met someone?” 

Immediately, the weight in the pit of your stomach that you’d thought was regret started to feel a lot more like nausea. Maybe that fourth glass of wine had been a mistake—or maybe it was exactly what you needed to brace yourself for what was coming next. Your fingers tapped anxiously against the bartop as you waited for the bartender to set the glass in front of you, silently willing him to move faster. If he did, maybe you wouldn’t have to hear it.

Aegon laughed softly, the sound low and almost self-deprecating, “Don’t sound so surprised.”

“My apologies,” Helaena chortled. “So you’re really putting your life of debauchery to an end, huh? I don’t have to worry about you breaking any more of my friend’s hearts?”

“Somethin' like that,” he replied, voice casual, though there was a faint edge that wasn’t lost on you.

There was a pause in their conversation; brief, but long enough to stretch the tension in the air. You held your breath without realizing it, straining to catch every word over the lull of the crowd and music. Finally, the bartender set your glass in front of you, and you quickly fished your card out of your purse to settle your tab, needing something– anything– to keep your hands busy and not look completely obvious.

“It’s… new,” Aegon said finally, his tone softer, almost uncertain. “I don’t even know if it’s goin' anywhere yet.” He hesitated, the weight of his words pressing down even from where you stood. “But she’s different. Makes me think maybe I could,  y’know, actually figure my shit out.”

The confession hit like a sucker punch, knocking the air out of your lungs. You gripped the stem of your glass tightly, your heart racing as you tried to parse through the tangle of emotions swelling in your chest as you anxiously waited for the bartender to produce your receipt.

“Fuck,” you could hear the surprise in her tone. “You know I’m rooting for you, always, but whoever she is I sure hope she knows what she’s getting into.” 

The words stung, not because they were untrue, but because you knew that in some twisted way, Helaena was right. Whoever this girl was, she would never be you. You were just his roommate– the clutz who twisted her ankle the first day you met, who’s constantly locked up in her room knitting and reading all the time, and got ghosted in the middle of a date. You weren’t sure what Aegon’s type was, but it almost certainly wasn‘t that. The thought alone made your chest tighten, your body burning with the need to either run or confront him– neither of which felt like an option right now.

You slip away into the crowd, weaving between the exhibit spaces until you find a quiet corner tucked between the artwork, where the paintings bear witness to your turmoil. Eventually, you find your way back to the painting you’d been admiring earlier, the one that had seemed so perfect, so out of reach. But now, the spot where it had once hung is empty, a small placard reading SOLD in bold letters in its place.

A sigh slips from your lips before you can catch it, and you stand there for a moment longer than necessary, just staring at the empty wall where something beautiful used to be. You couldn’t even begin to describe what that painting had meant to you– maybe it was just the idea of something unreachable, something that wasn’t meant for you. You swallowed the bitterness that rose in your throat, unable to stop the frustration from seeping into your veins. 

The artwork was gone, just like the illusion that tonight might somehow end in your favor.

And then you heard his voice. 

A little too loud, a little too carefree. You didn’t even have to look to know it was Aegon. The slur in his voice was unmistakable, “I’m fucking starving.” 

Without a word, he leaned into your side, swaying slightly as he did. You could feel the warmth of him, his body still a little too close for comfort, yet somehow the intimacy of it all felt right, despite everything.

“You’re fucking drunk,” you said, unable to hide the humor in your voice. You shoved him playfully off of you, but he barely budged, his grin lazy.

“Let’s go home,” he said, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. His lips quirked into that charming smile you could never resist. “How do you feel about Jade Garden? I’d kill for a crab rangoon right about now.”

The corners of your mouth twitched upward, and for a moment, the heavy weight of the night lifted, replaced by a fleeting sense of normalcy. You didn’t have the energy to fight it, to argue with him or deny the fact that, despite the wreckage of the evening, part of you wanted to crawl into the familiar comfort of his presence and stay there for as long as he allowed. 

“Say less,” you replied, grinning as the tiredness settled over you again. “I’m going to run to the restroom and I’ll meet you outside?” 

Aegon gave you a lazy nod, the kind that made you wonder if he was really paying attention, but you were too drunk to question it. You took your time, giving yourself a moment to regroup. By the time you stepped out into the cool air on the sidewalk, the tension in your chest had thankfully softened a bit. The streetlights were warm and quiet, casting long shadows on the ground as the soft drone of city noise welcomes you into the night. 

They were standing outside the bar, sharing a cigarette; lithe figures swaying slightly as they shared a quiet, tipsy conversation. Helaena’s laughter cut through the cool night air, her head tilted back, while Aegon’s smile softened, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. You hung back, taking slow, deliberate steps, giving them their space.

“Thank you for coming,” Helaena said, her voice sincere with that raw honesty. She pulled him into a lingering hug. “You’ve always been there for me, and it means more than you know.”

Aegon gave a half-hearted chuckle, his voice soft but teasing. “If you start crying–”

“I’m not going to cry,” she interrupted, breathless with the weight of her emotions. “I just love you, you twat. And because I love you, I’m going to give you some unsolicited advice. You need to call him, Aegon.”

He rolled his eyes, his grin faltering for just a second. “I’m not interested in anythin' he has to say.” But his expression immediately shifted when he caught sight of you approaching. He gave you a nod, trying to shift his tone. “Hey, you ready?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled softly and turned your attention to Helaena. “It was great to see you!”

“Aw, thank you again for coming,” she wrapped her arms tightly around your shoulders and then pulled away. Her gaze shifted between the two of you and then her smile widened, “Take care of this one, for me?” 

“I will certainly try my best,” you smirked.

Without another word, Helaena bounced back into the bar, disappearing quickly within the crowd, leaving you and Aegon alone.

He tossed his cigarette to the ground and snubbed it out with his foot. The lingering smell of smoke hung in the air around you as the moment settled, the cool night wrapping around you like a familiar coat. It felt quieter now that it was just the two of you, but not in an uncomfortable way. The kind of quiet where you could actually hear your thoughts instead of pushing them aside, and you weren’t sure if that was necessarily a good thing after everything you had seen and heard earlier. 

You wanted to ask him about this mystery person that he's met, but you couldn’t without it sounding like, ‘hey, I was totally eavesdropping on your conversation with Helaena and heard you met someone, please tell me who it is so that I can stalk her on Instagram later’. Okay, that thought you could totally push aside before letting it eat you alive. 

Aegon cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly under your gaze. “So, Jade Garden?” he asked, his tone lighter now, the casualness back, as if nothing in the world had just been turned upside down. 

“Yeah,” you said softly, voice steady.

He stepped to the side casually, grabbing something that he had propped against the building and tucking it under his arm. You recognized the shape instantly; a canvas, wrapped in brown paper to protect the artwork underneath. When his eyes met yours, there was something quietly triumphant in his gaze, and a small, mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips, as if he were both proud of his subtle gesture and waiting for you to catch on.

“What?” he asked innocently, noticing the way your gaze lingered.

You blinked, caught off guard for a second, but the realization hit you like a wave. "You bought it," you said, a soft laugh escaping your lips. "You actually bought the painting."

 “I could tell that you liked it,” He chuckled and started walking, his steps slow enough to match yours. “And that wall by the window is just so empty!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you followed his lead, your thoughts swirling. "You didn’t have to–" you started, but he cut you off, his grin widening.

"I wanted to," he said simply.

He glanced down at you, his smile softening into something warmer.  For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had finally fallen away and your intrusive thoughts had finally been silenced. In this moment, all that mattered was the simplicity of being here together, regardless of the unknown of what might come next. It didn’t need to be figured out right now, because right now, this– this unspoken understanding– was enough. 

Tag List:

@thhriller, @primroseluna @elllielewiss, @mrs-starkgaryen, @watercolorskyy, @belovedbastardremus, @hardyshoe, @notafairyteen, @notsuremarie, @mxauthor, @queen-of-elves, @louieluvly, @justmymindandstuff, @thetwentyeightclub

[haveateadude]

what did you give me to make my heart bleed out my chest?

summary *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ cait 'visits' vi on her emo era

warnings *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ not proofread!!! mentions of alcohol, being drunk, and fighting as a way of punishment?? i think that's it lol

author notes *. ⋆ ⋆·˚ sorry if this is out of character. i tried my best!! really enjoyed writing this one.

OH AND HUGEEEE CREDITS TO WHOEVER DID THE FANART OF CAITLYN MEETING WITH VI WHEN SHE WAS EMO😭😭 and i think caitlyn said something like "this is what you're up to?".

i can't find the fanart ANYWHERE. if someone has it, tag the account pleaseeeeeee🙏🙏 it's the whole reason i wrote this!!!

with that being said, i hope y'all enjoy :))

Her knuckles never hurt. 

As she’s curled up on her so very cold bed, around bottles of alcohol, she realizes her knuckles never hurt because she never really pays attention to them. Never has a reason to, either—she always focuses more on the rage than on the pain, too angry to focus on how her joints feel when she moves them. But lately they never stop hurting and, and her body never stops aching. Especially on that one spot; the one that was left bruised and bloody. The one where Caitlyn had hit her—the worst part is that she’s had worse. She was on fucking prison, for fuck's sake. 

Vi never liked showing weakness, but lately is all she knows, all she is. Weak. Her mind is plagued with it. Every time she’s alone with her thoughts, she just goes: weak weak weak weak weak weakweakweakweakweakweakweak—until she’s too drunk to think. Too drunk to stay steady on her feet that she has to lay down, and then falls asleep until she has a nightmare.

She lies on her back, her head heavy. Pain creeps up behind her eyes. She blinks. Lifts her hand and opens her palm, then closes it. It hurts. She ignores it and sits up, drinking up of the alcohol left in the bottle that she almost finished yesterday. She thanks God she didn’t, or else she doesn’t know what she would’ve done to wake up.

She sighs when someone knocks on her door.

Great, she thinks, sarcastically. Another fight. Right what I needed.

Okay, maybe not what she needs, but what she deserves. She deserves to hurt. To be thrown around like some kind of trash bag and punched until she's coughing up blood. And she fights back. She fights back because that's what the people like, the people who come to see her want her to win, and she wins and wins and wins. And she likes it. Some sick twisted part of her likes to win, to hear the praise, to know she's not letting people down but making them cheer.

Maybe another fight wasn’t what she needed. She wins, but at what cost? Her limbs are sore as fuck. But, still, today is a good day. Today is better than other days. Sometimes she wakes up with her chest burning in grief after a nightmare, and all she wants to do is fight. All she wants to do is put her fists to work. All of her anxiety and pain focused on anger. But she won the fight and people cheered for her more than they booed her. She’s at the bar, already a couple of drinks in. She didn’t have a nightmare today. Today is a good day.

Except, 

it isn’t. 

And she knows it.

Deep into her bones, she knows today wasn’t a good day. Or—well, she hasn’t had a good day for a long time, really. She can't catch a fucking break, can she? All her life has been followed by a tragedy on top of another tragedy on top of another and so on. Her parent's death, Vanders death, the little trip to prison, her sister turning Jinx, knowing what she thought was the love of her life hit her. And god, it hurts. This isn't the hurting that heals. This isn't a "good" type of hurting. This is the hurting that poisons, the one that makes you want to kneel on the floor and scream until you pass out. The one that makes you feel dizzy when you think about it. The one that makes you want to drink. The want that makes you think: stop. Stops stop stop. Because it hurts. And once you do, you won't stop hurting. 

Yeah. She probably should stop drinking. 

Who's there to stop her, anyway? Well—there was Loris. Until she got too angry one night and lashed out on him. And Vi? Fuck, she's good at making people angry. She was an older sister once, she knows a thing or two about choosing the right words to hurt people, to make them mad. To make them go quiet.

When she wakes up to a hand on her cheek, she thinks she's hallucinating.

It's not the first time. It's been happening a lot, the hallucinations. It's usually when she's drunk. It makes her feel crazy every time she catches a glimpse of Caitlyn, just looking at her with that look she though was love. What she thought was love, care, belonging. And every time it happens, she's reminded of all the things it wasn't. Was it even love, in the first place? Where the secret glances, soft touches, words spoken… nothing?

Vi blinks. Caitlyn is still there. She looks so… different. That's not her Caitlyn, Vi realizes. She looks hot, like always, but she has a weird look on her face that Vi has never seen. Is she confused? Sad? It looks very tender, though. It still has that touch of intimacy Caitlyn's eyes always reflected.

"I shouldn't be here," the Caitlyn speaks, standing up. Her hand leaves Vi's face, a sense of warmth leaving her cheek. Vi head is hurting. She blinks again. Shit. The hallucination is taking its time to leave. Vi mumbles something against her pillow. er mind still foggy with sleep. "Ambessa sent me on a mission, if she finds out I'm missing she'll kill me."

The Caitlyn brings a cloth near Vi's face, but she quickly pushes it away as she sits up. That's not her Caitlyn. That can't be. But she looks so different and real and Vi just pushed her hand away and Caitlyn looks surprised. It's not a hallucination, that she knows.

Vi's first reaction is to stare at her, just wide-eyed, lips slightly parted.

Caitlyn's shoulders slump as she reaches one more time to wipe Vi's face. There's a bucket next to the bed, and the white cloth she's holding looks clean. Vi has no idea where this all came from. She lets Caitlyn, who is avoiding her gaze, wipe her face.

"So, this is what you've been up to?" Caitlyn asks, dumping the cloth now black into the water, trying to clean it. "Getting yourself killed?"

"As if you're doing so much better," VI retorts.

Caitlyn reaches out to clean Vi's face again. Her hand drops to her side after. A beat. Then, "I'm done being angry."

Vi's quick to speak, "Well, I'm not."

"Of course you're not. I'm just letting you know. I don't—" Caitlyn stops talking. She takes a deep breath, still not meeting Vi's eyes. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? For everything—"

"Sorry isn't going to cut it."

"Would you let me speak." She looks up, now eye to eye with her, finally. The cloth drops to the water. "Please, Vi."

"You don't need to apologize. What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I told you, Ambessa sent me."

"So you just follow her around and do what she says?"

"It's not like that."

"Then what is it?!" She raises her voice. "You're completely different, Caitlyn. I'm not going to treat you the same just because you came here to… what? Check up on me? I don't even know what you're doing here. I thought I'd never—"

I thought I'd never see you again.

The words hang unspoken on the air. Vi really though she was never going to see Caitlyn again, and now she's here. Caitlyn is here, and she's taking care of Vi for some reason.

"I'm not even mad at you," Vi continues. She has the painful urge to touch Caitlyn, touch her face, put her hands on her hips, kiss her. This so she can convince herself Caitlyn is here and she's real and she hasn't left. She's glad more than she's mad, and it's pissing her off. She sits closer to Caitlyn. She doesn't deserve apologies, doesn't deserve anything that's close to good.

When Vi gets close enough to Caitlyn, when she can feel her soft breath against her face—when she thinks that another chance is so close she can feel it against her fingertips, that there can be another chance to mend amends, Caitlyn twists the knife.

"Vi?" She says, softly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm seeing someone else."

Vi pulls away, breath slightly panted. She can't speak, there are no words left to say. She's completely, utterly alone. She's so stupid for thinking she wasn't. But, again, it's always been like this. She should've seen it coming.

Caitlyn stops looking at her once more.

"Who?" It is what she manages to speak.

"Maddie."

Vi looks away from Caitlyn. She doesn't know if she wants to cry or laugh. "You said Ambessa would kill you if she finds you here, you should leave."

"You're right." Caitlyn clears her throat, standing up.

And before Caitlyn walks away, Vi decides to say one last thing.

"She's not going to love you like I do."

"What?" Caitlyn turns around, eyes on Vi like she's hoping for something that won't come—doesn't exist.

"She's not going to love you like I did. But good luck out there, cupcake."

[lagerloutfic]

a tough as balls year for little old me, but as the old proverb goes, no matter the horrors there is always ao3 in bed. writing and reading.

doubled down on my love for hockey and feel like i understood the game better, imbued more of the narratives, and discovered more players to be stupid about.

stopped trying to fight being an f1 girlie and threw myself in head first. what a gorge little community of freaks (affectionate) who like to watch the zoom zoom.

here are some things i wrote. not sure if i love them all, but they were all glorious distractions and so i'm hopelessly fond. not a single word could have happened without @crunchycrispy, the eternal muse.

hockey stuff

🐶 got that dog in him | E | 7.1k | the connor mcdog fic haha...oh boy. the good news is i am not alone in thinking how much connor looks like bowie and the bad news is, we're all going to hell. despite living in fear someone is going to cancel me for bestiality, i loved writing connor/bowie pov and imagining my life as a pampered little pooch, beloved by all. on my wishlist for 2025, tbh.

💦 warm ride | E | 2.3k & wrap me round your wedding ring | E | 6.8k | William Nylander/John Tavares | eurosleaze 4 DILF captain shame writing willy is a true joy, thoroughly recommend everyone have a turn. this was darker that i usually go because i don't like to hurt my own feelings but i'm happy with how wet and pathetic JT turned out and the whole structure of part 2. 😈 love drunk off this hump | E | 8k | Frederik Andersen/Auston Matthews | the gang's all here and they are fucking idiots this might have been the most fun thing i wrote this year? just good vibes, silly times, a thrilling ensemble of dickheads being stupid hockey bros. everyone should jerk off with the homies, the thesis.

🥛 no use crying | E | 38.6K | Brock Boeser/William Nylander | milk bar fic sex-worker AU ummmm, look. i just wanted to write boys with big milk jugs. do these fellas know each other? no. does the world make sense? nah. did i have a fun time, YES.

🦷 different kind of buzz | E | 3.5k | Macklin Celebrini/Will Smith | | pain, teeth & horny 4 hockey | those fucking rookies, goddamn actually can't believe we are witnessing the birth of a new pairing right under our noses, but it's happening. we are living in the historical moment! thank you to all the sickos who are writing willmack, posting the content, thinking the thoughts. the real MVP of this season, along with @fast-burn for making it spesh.

🏒 let's call this the playoff hockey coping strategy collection 🏒

absolutely bonkers time where i dealt with playoff hockey through fanfiction. actually do not remember half of these, so that's cool.

say it, say it again | E | 4.1k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | soft dick fic.

but close ain't close enough | E | 6.3k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | get your captain pregnant with help from your girl

go ahead and try a little crazy on me | E | 4k & don't you even try and explain | e | 12.1k | Leon Draisaitl/Arturs Silovs | winner's room goalie fucking | whomst among us was not enchanted by arty during that series? probably the most enjoyable voice to write, i do really want to write a part three where everyone gets freaky in spain so someone bully me until i do it.

better put that business to bed | E | 2.8k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | voice kink

just the touch of your hand | E | 3.4k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | McDepression and spanking

if i could make a wish | E | 2.8k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | omg, MORE McDrepression?? Get a new theme, girl!

i'm gonna tell you right now, they're all i'm thinkin' about | E | 7k | Leon Draisaitl/Connor McDavid | you are never gonna believe there's a THIRD McDepression fic out there by moi. This time with a cute outfit!

🏎️ f1 stuff 🏎️

👀 unsafe release | E | 18.2k | Alex Albon/George Russell | when that childhood friend becomes hot and weird and scary it's your girls first f1 fic! started life as a quinn/petey fic lol okay who is she? this was HARD to write. new fandoms are tricky, there's so much to learn. but good to be sobbing into the google doc at a million am, it builds character etc etc

🌪️ a lasting advantage | E | 18.7k | Alex Albon/George Russell | okay but actually i wasn't done with these bitches more of the same, but with extra mental breakdowns and lashings of shame! buttsex, finally, and a beloved OC.

💬 hot rookie slagsss | M | 5.7k | Alex Albon/George Russell/Lando Norris | horndogs in the groupchat i just wanted to write something with dialogue so i didn't have to bother with all the bits in between and text is so fun for that. so fun to thrash this out with @latecomersprivilege and @ctimenefic. it takes a village, y'all.

flippin' hell. when it's all laid out like that it's really something. what's next? i literally have no idea! how fun! thanks to anyone who interacted with me this year, the likes and comments and stupidity keep the motor running. open mouthed kisses for all xx

[formula1fanfiction]

Max Verstappen / Charles Leclerc

Title: Seemed like the right thing, at the right time

Pairing: Max Verstappen / Charles Leclerc

Characters: Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, George Russell, Alex Albon, Lewis Hamilton

Prompt: Can you write omega max + any other omega but neither of them want to top

Ao3 link

It’s been a long ass fucking season, all he wants to do is go back to his hotel room and snuggle up in his nest with Max, but instead he’s at some shitty end of season party. That he only agreed to go to because of Max, and to top things off he's really not in a good mood. 

“Why just because he’s an omega does he need to act like that” Charles lifts his head and sees max wildly gesturing at George, Charles can only raise an eyebrow because the smell radiating from George alone indicates what’s going on. 

“Stop it man, he’s obviously going into heat.” Lewis snaps back at Max and walks off. “I mean it’s pretty obvious” Charles adds “I can smell it from here, he’s pouring with sweat and he’s resting his head on the inside of Alex’s neck.” Alex is practically holding him up at this point, his hand soothingly rubbing circles on George's shoulder.  

“Come on let’s get you home” Alex gently guides George away from the mess of bodies. It’s clear the Brit doesn’t have the mental capacity to say his goodbyes, so Alex does it for him, which seems to further infuriate max. "I hope everything goes well G." Charles kisses his cheek on the way past, Max only glares at the pair of them.

“All my work gone downhill because of him, omega’s are not submissive whores” It’s Charles turn to feel infuriated, because George is in heat, his instincts make him feel like that, but Max in the bedroom is a bottom and it’s kind of a problem, neither of them want to top. “He’s in heat max and you’re only acting like this because you’re pissed with him” max narrows his eyes and doesn’t say a word until they get back to the hotel room. 

“So I guess you’re going to top tonight then Mr Macho omega” Max, rips the red bull shirt of his head and it lights the fire in Charles belly, maybe he’ll get what he wants after all. “What gave you that idea?” 

“Oh I don’t know, omega’s are not submissive whores might have something to do with it.” Max kicks off his jeans, so he’s just standing in his boxers. “George would have got down on all fours and agreed to be fucked in public if Alex had asked but I don’t see what that has to do with me getting fucked?” Max’ fingers grip at the waistband of his boxer shorts, Charles can see the outline of his cock and he can smell the slick Max’s body is producing. “The submissive whore part”

“I want you to fuck me Charles, that doesn’t mean I’m going to wither around and bare my neck.” Charles' can't keep his eyes off the waiting bulge in Max's underwear, he wants it inside of him so badly. “Well I’m not going to fuck you Max, I want you to fuck me”

"I'm not going to fuck you Charles, I always fuck you." Max finally shuffles down his boxer shorts, his hard cock springs free and slaps against his stomach, the whole room smells like Max's arousal. "Get undressed Charles." He quickly does as he's told, he kicks off his jeans and boxers together, his shirt quickly following. Charles arousal mixes with Max's and the whole room smells like horny omega's.

"If you wanted to get fucked all the time, why didn't you date an alpha instead." Charles is aware how petulant he sounds, he doesn't care. "I hate alpha's, I hate the thought of being reliant on someone else, absolutely not. Now lay down on the bed." Charles wants to argue, but it sounds like he might be getting what he wants, so he does as he's told before Max can change his mind.    

It turns out Charles doesn't get what he wants, Max follows him onto the bed, he doesn't sit between Charles' legs, he sits on top of them, he can feel the wetness from Max's hole pooling on his upper thighs. "What are you doing, Max?" Max position's himself into a squatting position and presses three fingers inside his own hole. "ok, i'm ready."

"Max? What are you doing?" Max raises his eyebrow and takes Charles' cock into his hand, jerking him off a few times before nudging it against his slick entrance and slowly sinks down, until Charles bottoms out inside of him. "You're just as bad as George, i'm proving to you omega's don't have to be submissive whores." Charles whines, squeezing down on Max's hips. "Yes but, I need something inside of me when I cum, it hurts otherwise."

"I'll fuck your ass, but you need to make me cum first." Charles nods, ok he can live with that, he just lays back, watching Max, who isn't doing anything but just sitting there, smirking. "You know, it's such a shame Charles." Max clenches and unclenches around him. "You're so big, maybe you should have been an alpha instead." Charles hisses, Max throws his head back and laughs.

"Poor little omega, so desperate to get fucked aren't you? Too bad." Max digs his finger nails into Charles' shoulders and pulls up his hips, about half of Charles' cock sits inside of him, as he sinks back down again hard and rough. Charles can't help the moan falling from his hips, he might prefer to get fucked, but there's no denying how good it feels to have Max's tight, warm heat wrapped around him. Max repeats the move, pulling the same moan from Charles' lips.

"See, it feels good doesn't it?" Max rocks himself backwards and forwards. "Just because you're an omega doesn't mean you don't get to have me like this." Max half pants and half moans, his eyes almost black with arousal. "Be like me Charles, i'm an omega, I just take what I need, I don't need an alpha." Max pulls himself up once again, only to slam back down again.

"It feels good, I admit, but i'd rather get fucked, I like being an omega." Charles withers around under the heaviness of max's body, wishing Max would just flip them over and fuck him hard into the mattress, just like Alex will be doing to George right now. "Please Max, fuck me, please."

"No, stop being selfish all the time. I hate topping too, but I always do it to keep you happy." Charles whines, in the saddest way he can mange, but instead Max only pays attention to himself, wrapping his hand around his leaking cock and starts to stroke himself. Max doesn't bounce anymore, instead he leans forward, pressing his face into the crook of Charles' neck and rocks himself against Charles' cock, moaning in pure pleasure. "Charles' please." Max has never sounded that needy before, Charles quickly gets the hint and furiously fucks up into him, hitting his prostate with every thrust. Max stays quiet, the only way Charles' knows, he's hit his orgasm is by the heavy breathing and the sticky cum splattered up his chest.

"Ok, it's my turn now." Charles pushes' Max's hips, bucking up into him a little. Max sits up, looking utterly fucked out. "Don't worry my sweet little omega, I haven't forgotten about your orgasm." The smirk on Max's face should give it away, but Max doesn't pull off him, instead he starts bouncing up and down on Charles' cock once again, a little bit harder this time. "M- Max." It feels so fucking good, but Charles can't come this way, it hurts. "I need you-"

"I know what you need baby." Max cuts him off. "You look so good like this Charles, desperate and begging for me to put my cock in you, I might start calling you George Russell." Charles whines stalling Max, with strong hands on his hips. "Stop talking about George and just fuck me already."

"Then fuck me like you mean it Charles, come on fuck me, like I deserve." Oh. He gets it now. Charles uses the leverage on Max's hips and fucks up into him with all his might, battering his prostate with every thrust. The sound of skin slapping against skin echo's around the room, mixed with Max's loud moans, happy he's finally getting what he wants.  "I'm so close Charles, please." Max moans, throwing his head back, grinding down his hips to meet everyone of Charles' thrusts. He knows how close Max is now, he knows exactly what he needs.  

"Come for me omega, come on." Charles growls thrusting up extra hard, smashing Max's sweet spot and that's all it takes for him to lose it. He screams out Charles' name as he cums, spurting his load all over Charles' chest and face.

"Why didn't you just tell me what you wanted?" Charles pants as Max climbs off him and settles down between his legs, hard cock pressing against Charles' aching entrance. "I told you, I'm not some submissive whore, I just take what I need." Max's cock must be aching and sore now, but that doesn't stop him from roughly slamming inside of Charles with one swift thrust, who moans in relief, finally getting something inside of him.

"Fuck me Max, I need it." Max starts to thrust very slowly inside of Charles, only pulling back the smallest amount before sliding back into him again. Charles is going insane from the small amount Max is giving to him, he's been waiting forever and a day for this. "Please." Charles whines, Max chuckles. "Honestly, such a submissive little omega, there is no changing you." Max slowly gives Charles what he needs, pulling out a little bit more with each move, and thrusting back into him that little bit harder, until soon Max hits all the right spots and turns Charles into a moaning mess.

"I do love you Charles, so much." Max thrusts his fingers into Charles' hair and pulls him into a rough kiss, Charles can only moan into Max's mouth because that's the moment Max finally starts to pick up the pace, and gives Charles what he really wants.  "What do you want Charles? Tell me."

"Fuck me hard Max, come on." Max smirks. "Good boy." Charles moans in delight as Max slams into him with an almost brutal force, the headboard slams into the wall, poor Carlos next door must be wondering what on earth is going on, it can be his leaving gift from Charles.

"Do you need me to touch your cock baby? It's so red and hard." Charles nods. "Please, touch me." Max wastes no time and wraps his fist around Charles' aching cock and strokes it to the same pace as his thrusts, and changes the angle ever so slightly until Charles is seeing stars and throwing his head back into the pillows.

"So needy for me." Max continues to pleasure Charles cock while slamming into his prostate with every thrust. Charles is losing it pretty quickly, Max had kept him on edge for so long, he needs to cum so badly, it hurts. "Fuck, fuck fuck, Max." Charles all but screams and uses his finger nail's to scratch at Max's back, leaving ugly red scratches as he reaches his orgasm, spurting his load over his own chest and Max's hand.

Charles whines as Max slips out of him, he's so sensitive all he wants to do is cuddle up to his fellow omega, but instead he's left alone. "Calm down, i've only been gone five seconds." Max gently wipes a warm towel over Charles' skin, cleaning up all the remains of cum from his face and chest.

"Can we just cuddle now?" Max shrugs wiping away the slick from around Charles' hole and settles down under the covers next to him. Charles rests his head on Max's chest, while the Dutchmen absent mindedly runs his fingers through Charles' hair.

"We really need to do something about this bottoming situation." Max sighs, while tapping on his phone. "What do you mean? Like getting an alpha in or something? I don't like the thought of sharing you." Max chuckles. "I told you no, I hate alpha's." Charles has never been more confused in his life. "Then what?"

Max holds up his phone, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. "I just ordered us this knotting double ended dildo. We can both get fucked, our heats will be less painful and best of all we don't need an alpha around."

Charles doesn't know what to say in responded to that, but he already can't wait to have sex again.