#the writers just sat down with all the previous shows and were like

[balimaria]

I’m sure many of us are familiar with the similarities the Yu-boys have to their adjacent protagonists, some very much so (Yugo/Yusei) and some not quite so much (Yuto/Yuma). But the Yuri Duel Links event has got me thinking… they’re really leaning into the similarities Yuri has with Judai.

He’s always had a fair amount of parallels. There’s the obvious “they both went to a duel academia,” but there’s also the fact that they’ve both had major hands in carrying out mass genocides (jeez), or that they both underwent soul fusions with other character(s), or Judai and Yuri being the only characters to use Super Poly (except that one flunky in Zexal who randomly had it in his hand for one shot…) showing how Yuri is carrying on Judai/GX’s legacy as the Fusion counterpart (and 1/4th of another Supreme King)

OR, most relevant here, their focus on having fun above all else.

Yuri’s constant insistence that he’s here to have fun (which was a part of his character in the show, but it’s focused on much more in the event) and showing no interest in any “obligations” he may have outside of having fun (like apologizing or trying to repair any of the damage he’s done. You go girl give us nothing.)

It’s all very much akin to a pre-season 3 Judai who had little to no sense of responsibility and was almost solely motivated to duel (even when he really shouldn’t have been) by his desire to have fun. And while Yuri’s idea of fun is a little more sadistic than Judai’s (a little more like Yubel, even?) the point is the same. 

This line that Yuri says is what got me thinking deeper about this, because I remembered Judai says a near-identical one. (Apologies for the crusty png.)

Obviously they’re not going through the exact same development here. Judai’s arc is about being carefree to a dangerous extent, then swinging to the opposite extreme when he is suddenly saddled with very heavy burdens, and ultimately finding balance between the two: regaining his love of dueling while also bearing a sense of responsibility. Yuri’s arc (if you can call it that, it’s the beginning of one certainly) seems to be a more straightforward “discovering there are things that are fun and also do not come at the expense of other people’s lives” type deal, with a little bit of learning who the hell you’re supposed to be now that you aren’t part of a military school dictatorship or Zarc/Yuya’s soul amalgam sprinkled in. He’s discovering new toys! Everyone clap for him please.

Though it’s not just that fun things don’t have to come at the expense of others… but that it’s MORE fun when they don’t. And that’s the real step forward that Yuri makes in the event. Which honestly fits and doesn’t feel forced, which is something I was concerned about. That boy is a little cockroach! Let him crawl around and make people scream like he always does. Just… maybe some of those screams are of other people having fun too. Maybe. Someone should probably still make sure they're okay, though.

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter four ⭐︎ Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, mentions of loss, allusions to depression, fear of loss, hurt/comfort. reader calls her sister 'twinkie', mentions of abuse, mentions of sex

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: As Steve shows up on your doorsteps with an apology, you let him see more of just the you he already knows

Word count: 7.6k+

Author's note: shoutout to my co-writer (shut up, you wrote the dialogues and ideas with me, don't say anything) @hellfire--cult

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Breathe in. Breathe out.

His heart was pounding, his body was shaking, his eyes wide, blinking rapidly as he stared at the same exact spot. The dried blood on his hands was starting to make him feel sick. It was Eddie’s blood. He hadn’t cleaned it off yet, he was still in shock, still in pain after what they had all gone through. 

Eddie made it, he was going to be okay, his injuries were bad and he was losing blood, a lot of blood, but he would be okay. And yet, Steve had felt anything but it. 

He almost lost a friend, he almost lost Max, he almost lost… you. 

He was sitting down beside you, though he couldn’t bring himself to look up and face you. You looked so… dead. Your skin lost its color, and the bandage around your head was new, yet there was a blood stain already. The machines were beeping beside you, it was the only sound in the room. 

And then the door opened, only then did he lift his head to look up, expecting it to be your parents or maybe your sister but it was only Nancy. A cup of coffee from the machine outside in her hand, a sad look still resting on her features. 

“Hey,” she whispered as she walked towards him, handing him the cup, “here, I didn’t know what you liked so I just got you a regular coffee.”

They’d been together for over a year and she couldn’t even remember what he liked. Should he even be surprised? No. A small thing like this still managed to hurt him. 

“Thanks, Nance,” he mumbled as he tried to give her a smile. He reached for the cup, ignoring the way it felt when his fingers brushed hers, how his heart had fluttered despite her rejection only a few hours back. 

She cleared her throat and looked away, sitting down at the end of the bed, she looked at you. 

He took a sip of the hot coffee as he leaned back in the chair, he avoided looking at you still, instead he kept his focus on her, the way he always did. There was disbelief, anger and sadness flashing in her eyes as she stared at you. 

“I can’t believe that Jason did that to her,” she whispered, “I knew I saw something in his eyes, I just didn’t think that he was this violent.” 

Steve nodded. 

He too was still in disbelief. 

You survived the night in the upside down, you fought off bats, didn’t even bat an eye when one of them got you good, but Jason, you almost didn’t survive him. And Steve felt so much rage as he sat there and thought of the guy that almost murdered you. 

“Yeah, me neither.”

There are monsters in different dimensions, in dark worlds, ones that do not know of a different way of living, they exist to kill because it is in their nature. But sometimes there are worse monsters, ones that hide behind kind eyes, ones that are raised into a world that should be more humane but because of them, it never will be. This world will always be just as dark as all the other ones that exist in secret. Jason was one of the monsters that got to you. 

This world is a hell just like the ones he and his friends had been dragged into but there’s still kindness left, peace and order. Though, Steve couldn’t help but wonder what this world would have turned into if Vecna had won. 

He would have brought endless war and chaos on this planet and people would have followed, they would have turned against each other so quickly. Everything would have crumbled into pieces. 

Shivers ran down his spine as he thought of what could’ve happened had they not stopped him. You were a part of it all, you helped in stopping him, had you not been at the Creel house, things could’ve gone sideways so easily. 

“Hey,” Steve whispered, clearing his throat. “Thank you… You know, for jumping into the water and saving my ass back there.”

Nancy furrowed her brows, a soft laugh fell from her lips, she looked away from you and turned to face him, shaking her head a little. 

“Everyone did.. And, she did first. She jumped first on the boat and she jumped first into the water, then I followed, then Robin and then Eddie.” 

His eyes widened, flashed with confusion as he tilted his head at her. 

“Huh? Who jumped first?” 

Nancy’s blue eyes were filled with confusion, her bangs fell in front of her eyes as she turned back to you, saying your name. 

You were the first to jump. 

You were the one to go after him first. 

You wanted to save him. 

How could he throw such horrible words at you after what you had done for him? After risking your life to save him? 

He wouldn’t even be able to begin to describe the guilt that kept him up all night. He wanted nothing more than to drive over to your place and apologize, even if he would have to drop to his knees, he would. 

But Max had told him that it was better to wait, to give you the time that you need, so that’s what he did. But he was going crazy, the guilt and the regret were eating at him, making him feel worse and worse with each passing second. 

Going to work that day had been torture as well, he was nervous and restless, he kept bouncing his knee and tapping his pen against the unmarked crossword in front of him. His mind was forcing him to think of you, of the look in your eyes, of the tears and the hurt. He felt so awful, he felt like King Steve again and he is someone he despises, just the way he despises himself, right this second. 

Robin told him to leave before he could even finish his shift, knowing that all he wanted was to set things straight, to make things right with you. 

And here he is now, standing on your porch with a racing heart and sweaty palms. 

He doesn’t know how you will react to seeing him here, but knowing you, he is certain that you will slam the door in his face – he’d deserve it. 

He rang the doorbell once before, but you didn’t open it. He wonders if you saw his car in your driveway already. He rings it again, hoping for you to open, hoping for you to give him a chance so he can… try, try to make it up to you. 

He tugs at his hair, feeling more and more stressed the longer it takes you to open. As he stands there, staring at the wooden door, he realizes that it’s only the second time that he stands here, on your porch, on the doorsteps of a big house, just as big as the one he lives in, if not bigger. The inside of your home is just as much of a mystery to him as you are. 

Steve knows nothing about you, absolutely nothing and he still opened his mouth and threw words at you that you didn’t deserve – even when you pushed him, even when you were being mean to him, you had never sunk so low just to hurt him, not once. 

After he got all this anger off his chest, you were no longer the girl he saw before, you were someone else, someone vulnerable, someone heartbroken and that hurt even more to think about. 

He gets pulled out of his thoughts when you finally open the door. He snaps his head up and his eyes meet yours for the first time that day. 

He had seen you in a bad state before, after your fight with Jason Carver, after the surgery that saved your life, you looked bad. Your skin was marked with bruises and scars, you had that traumatized look in your eyes that no one dared to even mention. You barely ate or talked for the first few days, whether it was because of the surgery or the trauma that Carver had left you with, you were in a bad, bad state. 

But he had never seen you like this before. 

Not even the sadness from last night was this strong as the one in your eyes now. They are glassy, a mix of anger and hurt swirling in them. Your lips are puffy just like your eyes, from all the crying. Your hair is messy, a big hoodie that doesn’t even seem to belong to you hanging loosely on your form. 

Another pang of guilt hits him at the sight of you. 

You stare at each other for a long moment before you try to slam the door shut again, but he jumps forward, pressing his palm against it, “Blondie, please! I just want to talk!” 

He hears your sniffle, like you’re trying not to cry again. You stop pushing against the door but you don’t pull away either, you don’t let him see you. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he hears you say. 

“I-I just want to apologize, I was an asshole to you and you didn’t deserve it. I messed up.. fuck..” He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling desperate to fix this between you two, “I’m sorry, I’m really fucking sorry, Blondie.” 

“Y-You’re forgiven, now please leave..”

The weakness in your voice makes him feel like the worst person alive, knowing that he is the cause of your suffering, right now. 

How did you feel last night? 

“No,” he begs, shaking his head as though you could see him, “please just let me in, I-I want to talk to you, I want to fix it, please let me fix it.” 

You are silent on the other side of the door, you don’t move, you don’t speak. You hesitate. And it feels like forever that he stands here with a pounding heart, willing you to open the door and let him see you, talk to you. 

Without a word, you open the door and you step aside, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He swallows the lump in his throat, blinking as he takes in the sight of you, once again. 

You stare at him with both impatience and annoyance now, wanting to get this over with quickly, while he wants time – time with you. 

He had never felt such desperation before, especially now that he sees you. 

“There’s nothing to fix, it’s okay, you told me what you–”

He says your name, and he says it so desperately that it shuts you up. 

“I won’t leave until I can properly apologize to you.” 

You blink, your upper lip twitches and you take a moment, staring at him for what feels like forever until you nod. 

“Fine..”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. 

He takes a deep breath before he steps inside the house he has never been in before, he closes the door behind him and he can’t help but look around, taking in the sight of the big hallway, the wide stairs are on the right side, pictures hang on the wall all the way up to the second floor, there is one that is slightly bigger than the others, and even from afar, he recognizes you – you are no older than twelve in that picture, you wore a wide smile on your face, pigtails that were tied with pink bows at the end, you were wearing a dress and you looked happy in a way he had never seen before. Your big sister was next to you, holding your hand as your parents stood behind you both, the smiles were genuine, even on their faces. 

Only as he stares at the picture, does he realize that he has never actually seen your parents before. 

“Are your parents home?” He asks without looking at you, still questioning 

You hesitate. 

“No… I uh, do you want something to drink?” You ask awkwardly, not knowing what else to say or do.

Steve is too busy staring at the picture, trying to remember your parents, wondering why they didn’t come to visit you at the hospital, only your sister came to see you.

When he looks down at you, away from the picture of the girl that once looked so happy, he now sees a broken one, for the first time, he sees past those glares and cold looks. 

He runs his fingers through his hair. 

“I-I’m sorry… I’m really sorry about all the awful shit I said to you last night, I was angry a-and I let it out on you and you did not deserve this, you really didn’t deserve any of the words I threw at you.” 

You blink, and you press your lips together just like you did before, just like you did last night. 

“It’s okay–”

“No, I said things that I had no clue about and I never wanna do that again. I just, I want to understand you.. I want to get to know you because.. fuck, I’m realizing how much I’m hurting you.”

Your eyes soften and you genuinely look surprised at his words, eyeing him as you stay silent. 

You don’t blame him, he’s not at fault, not entirely. He knows nothing about you or your life, so how could he know that those words would cause so much damage? 

You carry guilt, just like he does. 

You both kept throwing knives at each other, hitting one target after the other but you were both blindfolded to the pain you were causing to each other. 

You shift, pulling at the sleeves of the sweater you are wearing, you close your eyes for one second, taking a deep breath, before you open them again and look up at Steve. 

“What do you want to know?” You ask, surprising him with your words. 

He expected you to be more stubborn than this, but you seem willing to let him get to know you, the real you. 

“Anything you want to give me really.. so… I just want to stop hurting you without me realizing it… I don’t… I need to stop hurting you, Blondie.”

You look at him, really look at him, and you notice that he looks just as bad as you do. His hair is messy – a very unusual sight for him. He has dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept all night and his eyes are filled with guilt.

With a sigh, you tilt your head into the direction of the living room, motioning him to follow. You turn on the lamp on the dresser, making the room appear lighter, it’s gloomy outside and the rain has been falling all morning, it only just stopped. 

“Sit,” you mumble, pointing to the couch, “wait here.” 

He nods at you and sits down, he watches you leave the room again and listens to your footsteps as you make your way upstairs. He looks around, there are fewer pictures around here, though still enough for him to get curious about your parents again. There’s a bouquet of fresh flowers on the small table in front of him – Daisies. A throw blanket lays on the other end of the couch, an open book next to it, were you reading when he got here?

It doesn’t take you long to come back into the room. 

Steve’s brows furrow a little when he sees the shoebox in your hand, you place it in front of him and take a deep breath as you look into his eyes, pointing to the box. 

“Here’s everything you need to know about me.”

His lips part at your words. 

“You can look, I’ll tell you anything you want to know and then we can… move past all of this and go back to the way things were before yesterday.” 

He blinks, noticing how your shoulders slumped a little, you don’t want to go back to the way things were, and neither does he. He enjoys the bickering but not when it means that he is hurting you. 

You break eye contact, and turn around, “I’m gonna get us something to drink, feel free to look..” 

And with that, you leave again and Steve, he stares at the box for a while, feeling like he is about to intrude, despite you telling him to open it, to look inside, he still feels like he is intruding. But his curiosity gets the best of him, he removes the lid carefully and puts it down on the table. 

Polaroid Pictures. 

So many of them. The box is filled, all the way up to the top with pictures of friends and family. The first one that catches his eye is the one of you and Max. He reaches for it, bringing it closer. You are both smiling into the camera, Max is wearing her red sunglasses and you are wearing your heart shaped ones, an ice cream cone in her hand and a can of diet pepsi in yours – he can’t help but smile as he stares at it, you looked so happy. 

The date was written under the picture, with a pink sharpie: May 7th 1985. 

He places the picture down, reaching for the next one. 

This one doesn’t have you on it, only your sister, with a black cat on her lap – Luna, the cat’s name was Luna, he overheard you talking about her to Max. And your sister, he doesn’t remember her actual name, only the nickname you called her when she came to see you at the hospital; Twinkie. He almost laughed at that, the first time he heard it.

The next one is one of you and your dad at the beach, he recognizes him from the picture in the hallway. Both of you were holding surfboards. Your eyes shone with happiness, a bright grin on your face, your dad’s arm was wrapped around your shoulder. In this picture, you looked even happier than in the one from last year. – This one was taken in the summer of 1981, you were only fourteen. 

He flinches a little when you place a soda can in front of him, “here, I found some coke in the fridge, figured you’d prefer that.” 

He raises his brows and then looks at the pepsi you’re holding in your hand. 

“Oh, thanks,” he mumbles, trying to smile. 

You nod at him as you sit down beside him, looking at the picture that he’s holding. 

“We spent the summer in California, my parents had a summer house in Monterey.” 

“Had?”

You nod. 

“Yeah,” you whisper as sadness takes over your features, a sadness he hadn’t seen before. It’s not the kind that he had seen last night. It’s one that reminds him of grief, like the one on Max’s face when she mentions Billy. 

Oh no. 

“My sister sold it last year, I asked her not to but.. for some reason that house gave her more painful memories than this one,” you say as you gesture to the room you sit in, you lean forward, placing your drink on the table as you reach for a picture in the box, “that was.. that was two weeks before they uh.. got into an accident.” 

You hand him a picture but he can’t look at it yet, too busy staring at you and at the way you try to hide the tears in your eyes. 

Steve’s heart aches in his chest, the guilt eating at him like never before. 

“I-I’m so sorry, Blondie,” he whispers as he slowly looks down at the picture, at your parents who both smiled into the camera. That one was also taken in the summer of 1981.

Steve started to feel a little sick as the seconds went by, at each picture that he looked at.

“Twinkie and I took the flight back with our grandparents, we wanted to spend one more week with them in Indianapolis before going back to Hawkins, we didn’t know that this would be the last time we’d ever see them.” 

His heart no longer aches at your words, it breaks for you. He didn’t know this, he never knew anything about you. You lost your parents when you were so young, right before your first year in high school. 

Now he understands why you had always looked so.. lost. 

Why you had been so rude and unapproachable. You pushed people away while you were grieving, you didn’t want anyone to see.

He doesn’t know what to say, no words will give you the comfort that you still clearly need. 

“I-I never knew.”

You chuckle as you look at him, still blinking away those tears, “I didn’t want anyone to know, especially not when it just happened.”

“Why not?”

“I’d forever be the girl that lost her parents, and honestly, I’d rather have the whole school hate me than give me pitiful looks.”

“Of course,” he mumbles, shaking his head at you. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” he shrugs, running his fingers through his messy hair after he puts the picture down, “you’re just so… I don’t know, it’s just.. classic you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, not with anger in your voice but with curiosity. 

“Well, you’d rather have the whole world hate you than let them see you vulnerable.” 

You shake your head at him and his eyes meet yours as he turns back. There is that look in your eyes, the one that reminds him that he doesn’t know anything about you. 

“I let some see.” 

Right. Some. 

He nods and looks away. 

He’s surely not one of those that you let see.

When he reaches for the next picture, he freezes, staring at the two little girls with wide eyes. It’s not hard to figure out who the one next to you is. Strawberry blonde hair, the two front teeth way too big for the small face, she was wearing a cheerleader costume – not knowing that she would’ve become cheer captain years later. Chrissy Cunningham. 

The girl next to you was Chrissy, you were hugging each other from the side, giggling. 

He looks at you, you were wearing a fairy costume, green and pink colors on the dress, and your smile was big. You looked happy. 

He shakes his head a little, not understanding what he sees in front of him. 

He had never seen you and Chrissy around each other, not even once. In fact, he rarely ever saw you around anyone for that matter. Sometimes he saw you talking to Jonathan, something that gave him more of a reason to dislike you back then, he’d throw the word ‘freaks’ at the two of you whenever he passed by you. The memories of that fill him with guilt and regret, he always wishes that he could turn back time and change things, change the way he acted. 

But he never ever saw you even talking to Chrissy.

He slowly turns to face you, holding up the polaroid, “y-you and Chrissy knew each other?”

You only glance at the picture before you look down, “yeah, we were childhood best friends, we grew apart but… we still kept in touch. She’d stay over sometimes.” you explain, not meeting his eyes.

You lost your parents. You lost a friend. 

His words from last night echo in his mind and the guilt crashes over him, harder than before. 

No words appear before him, what can he say that will make you feel better in the slightest? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. 

But the monsters have gotten to her without her knowing about them.

That’s what Max had told him. Now he understands. Even more so, when a different picture catches his eye, one that shocks him even more than the previous one. 

Only this time, he doesn’t just freeze, he feels a shiver running down his spine and his chest feels weird, all of a sudden. Because the guy in the picture isn’t someone he ever expected you around with. 

He takes it, between his thumb and his forefinger, bringing it closer with a shaky hand. He blinks, like he can’t believe what he is seeing, but it’s real, it’s so very real. No amount of blinking will transform the guy into someone else. It’s unmistakably Billy Hargrove in your collection of polaroids, a collection that reminds you of the people you loved. The box of memories that is frozen in time. 

Billy is sitting on the hood of his car, a cigarette held between his fingers as he snickered at the camera. It was taken back in 1984. 

You were friends with Billy Hargrove? 

He can’t even utter a single word, just reaching for the next picture which is just another one of him. 

Billy was lying on the grass, probably in your backyard, his eyes were barely open but he was smiling into the camera, with a thumbs up in the air. It’s clear that he was drunk when you took that picture. 

He feels your eyes on him, he notices you shifting on the couch as you lean back, still looking at him. He doesn’t turn to face you, not yet. Too curious to find more pictures of Billy, he doesn’t expect the next ones to be more intimate than the ones before. 

He stares at the one of you first, it looks as though you have cried, but you are smiling, and the only thing that covered your body was a blanket, while pushing the camera out of your face. 

And for a moment, Steve can’t help but think how beautiful you look in this picture with your hair all messy, your exposed skin looking so soft and glowy beneath dim lights, and a smile so content. 

But the picture of Billy makes him frown. He was sitting on your bed, shirtless and with a cigarette between his lips, his eyes were red but he was smiling just like you were. 

It’s obvious what happened before these pictures were taken and he can’t shake the weird feeling in his gut, the longer he looks at them. 

Were you and Billy dating? 

Is that why you have been so miserable since last summer? Because he was just another name on the list of people you have lost?

As though you can read his mind, you lean closer to him, reaching for the first picture you ever took of him, the one where he sits on the hood of his car. 

“I ran into Billy at Big Buy’s, well, behind the building. He was smoking a cigarette and he was crying. I hadn’t seen him before, it was the weekend before school started again. I approached him and he obviously tried to scare me off, but… fucker didn’t know who he was talking to,” you chuckle. “He was being rude, like really rude, calling me names and trying to get me to leave, I stepped on his foot and he yelped, literally yelped. I left after that but uh, after that, we just started pestering each other at school and then one day, he showed up here, with a bleeding nose and a busted lip, he didn’t know where else to go.”

Steve watches you, the way your eyes are filled with sadness as you look at the pictures in front of you. 

“It took him a while but eventually, he opened up to me, about his dad and everything.”

He knows about Billy’s dad, about the abuse, the emotional and physical abuse. Max told him all about it. 

“So uh, then that happened,” you murmur, awkwardly, not meeting his eyes as you point to the pictures of the two of you only covered by the sheets. 

“Were you two dating?” He asks, and somehow he feels a knot in his stomach at that question. 

You scrunch your face up at his words, almost in a way that makes him laugh. You shake your head at him. 

“Fuck no. We weren’t even attracted to each other. I just, at that point we were close and I trusted him so uh.. I just wanted to do it with someone that I felt comfortable with and uh, the beer helped too, I guess,” you say with a small smile on your lips.

Steve turns away from you, biting the insides of his cheeks, the knot slowly undoing itself in his belly.

“We never mentioned it again after this, it wasn’t awkward or anything, we were just.. best friends.” 

There is no bitterness in your voice, he notices. You had no feelings for Billy, and that for some reason makes his shoulders relax.

He looks back at you when he feels your eyes on him, your smile has fallen.

“He came to my house… you know.. after he beat you up and he was drugged by Max.”

He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips. 

“What?”

“I told him that it was wrong, what he did, that you did the right thing, that I told him time and time to lay off Max. Damn, I even slapped him across his head when he broke her skateboard.”

His eyes soften, and his lip twitches. 

“I-I was doing the right thing?”

“You protected Lucas. When I found out how he was treating him I got so mad at him, we got into a fight and I didn’t talk to him for days. I just hated what he did to him and to Max,” you mumble, breaking eye contact when the look in his eyes gets a little too intense for you. You also didn’t like what Billy did to Steve, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Billy he was.. driven by his father’s words and actions. The abuse turned him into that. He was vulnerable with me, but– the anger was still inside of him… bright red.”

As Steve looks back at the pictures, he realizes that he had never seen Billy like this, happy, smiling. He almost looks like a different person. Regret floods through him, he can’t help but wish that he would’ve gotten to know this side of Billy, the one that you knew, maybe things would’ve gone differently if he did, maybe Max wouldn’t have lost her brother. 

“I never saw Hargrove like this.”

“No one did,” you shrug, “only me, sometimes Max. I-I tried to change him and his dumb views but Billy was just.. stubborn and angry.” You shake your head, blinking away the tears that welled up in your eyes, you close them and tilt your head down. “A-And then he pushed me away when he.. when he was possessed.” 

Steve notices the way your voice got so much more shaky than before, how you seem to be on the verge of tears. 

“Max,” he whispers, now understanding why or who the reason was for your friendship. 

“Yeah… Max. We received letters, well, notes from Billy,” you mumble. 

He watches how you bring your hand up to your face, wiping away the tears with the sleeves before you reach for something in the box, a folded piece of paper that you hand to him. 

“He told me to stay away in mine, all messy, but he said that he didn’t hate me, that he could never..”

Steve doesn’t open the note, your words are enough, he doesn’t want to intrude more than he already did, he understands this enough. Billy pushed you away to keep you safe, and he did it with cruel words to keep you away, because he knew that that would work with you. 

Steve is at a loss for words.

“And Max, he called her his sister in hers. She didn’t read the note until a few weeks later though.”

Steve’s eyes widen, and it all clicks in his head. 

Why Max had been suffering as much as she did in those months after Billy’s death, why she seemed more depressed than ever when the summer was over. 

“Is that why you are so close with her? … For Billy?” 

“Yeah,” you whisper, nodding. “She’s like a sister to me, I’d do anything for her.”

And you did. You did and you almost gave your life protecting her. 

“And I almost lost her too.”

Just like everyone else you loved and cared about. 

Steve’s words did more damage than he thought they did, and they echo in his mind, over and over again. 

Don’t you ever ask yourself why you don’t have anyone? Why no one bothers to stick around because I’d be really surprised if someone did. 

The nausea that fills him almost overwhelms him, it almost knocks the breath out of him. He swallows harshly, and he starts to put the polaroids back into the box, blinking as he looks at each and every one of them again. 

His eyes linger on the one of you smiling, the one from the year before. When you found your happiness again when a new friend had stepped into your life. 

Steve couldn’t stand Billy Hargrove, he really couldn’t stand him, but his death was cruel and even he didn’t deserve what happened to him and you didn’t deserve to lose another person you cared about. 

You lost. You lost people, you lost family, you lost friends and you lost your spark, your happiness. And now he understands why you are the way that you are. Why you keep pushing everyone away, you’re scared to lose again, scared to get too close to someone only to watch them being taken away from you. 

As he stares at your smile, he can’t help but frown at the picture in his hand because he will never get to see this. He will never see you like this with him and in this moment, he can’t help but envy those who will. 

“You are right.” His voice sounds small, filled with regret, filled with sadness and hurt.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know what loss is. I– shit. I don’t know if I could have handled it like you did.”

You feel your eyes burning at his words and before you can even try to blink your tears away, one falls from your eye. 

Steve’s eyes soften when he hears your sniffle, he watches the tear roll down your cheek. He moves without thinking, raising his hand up to your face, he catches the tear with his thumb.  

You freeze and your lips part in surprise, his touch giving you butterflies despite what happened yesterday. 

His touch feels so foreign on your skin, yet comforting and warm, like something that you have been craving and longing for since always. You slowly turn to face him and only then, does he realize what he did. 

His cheeks flush red and his eyes fill with embarrassment, he clears his throat and pulls his hand away from your face, not knowing that this makes you feel empty again. 

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, apologizing to him, for the first time. “Knowing that they’re alive yet still deciding to leave you behind.. that’s not easy either.”

He appreciates your words and his lip twitches, he shrugs, trying to play it off – The pain he always endured by himself and never voiced out, and he won’t start doing it now. It’s done with.

“I have the kids and Robin.”

“Right,” you whisper as you push yourself up, unable to sit here with him any longer, you reach for the box, ignoring the confused look that he gives you, “they take care of you.” 

He noticed the sarcastic tone at that last phrase, but he nodded either way. 

“Okay uh, time to go, Lego head. I need a shower.”

This time, he can’t help but smile at the nickname. 

“Okay, Blondie.”

You lead him back out into the hallway, avoiding the hazel eyes that fill your heart with nothing but sadness and longing. 

You feel your heart pounding, your eyes still burning as you feel yourself nearing the edge of yet another breakdown this day. 

“Hey,” Steve whispers, taking a hold of your arm he pulls you back so he can see your face again. 

“Yeah?” 

Your eyes show him so much and now he can’t help but wonder if these emotions have always been there and he was just too blind to see them or if you only showed them now. 

“I’m really sorry about everything,” he whispers. 

Your lips twitch, though not into a smile. 

“Me too, Steve.”

He keeps holding your arm, ignoring the wish to hold you instead. 

“Are we.. good?” 

His question makes you laugh and you squint your eyes. 

“When have we ever been good?”

He rolls his eyes, though he can’t help but smile. He brings his left hand up, running his fingers through his messy hair.

There is that look in his eyes, the one that shows you that he is thinking about something, deeply. 

“Do I still call you Blondie…?” He asks as he realizes that he had always called you by a name that must have taken you back to a time where you had felt the saddest, the loneliest. You were fifteen when you had bleached your hair and tried out new styles, all the time. He never knew that it was something that you needed to do, to distract yourself from the grief. You had no friends, no one to talk to, no one to be with. You only had that – box dye, makeup and new clothes every week. 

Oh. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, digging your nails into your palm. He knows. 

“I would be mad if you didn’t. It’s weird when you say my name, Harrington.” 

He chuckles, shaking his head a little.

“Yeah yeah, Blondie, keep acting like you don’t like it.”

You smile, though it doesn’t reach your eyes and he can see it.”

“I guess we’re still Lego head and Blondie then, huh?” He asks, snorting. 

“Always.”

He licks his lips, nodding. 

“Always,” he chuckles as he lets go of you and walks towards the door, he opens it, but he doesn’t step out, right away. He looks back at you, one more time, “you know, I didn’t mean a single thing that I said to you, last night. And I’ll do anything for you to believe me. B-But, I think that you’re amazing and the people that had the chance to get to know you… the real you were really fucking lucky.” 

He leaves you with those words, closes the door and walks away from you. 

And you stare at the front door for what feels like forever before you finally break into tears. You were pushing away your pain and your sadness but the fight from last night, his presence and his words have made it all so much worse again. 

You bury your face in your hands as you sit down on the stairs, letting tears fall that you haven’t felt in ages but instead of relief, you feel frustration running through you. You didn’t miss this, you didn’t miss this for a single second. 

There is a knock on the front door and it fills you with annoyance when you expect it to be Steve again. 

Wiping your tears with anger, you rip open the door, expecting to see him again but instead it’s Max on your doorstep. Max and Eddie. 

You blink, looking between them, back and forth. 

Max’s blue eyes fill with worry as she looks into your glassy eyes. 

Eddie smiles at you, despite matching the look in her eyes. 

“Hey, you didn’t let me come in yesterday so I assumed that if I brought Red here you would let us in,” he says, still smiling cheekily. “We brought movies and got your favorite snacks,” he points to Max’s backpack.

You don’t know what comes over you, but the kind smile on his face, of the guy that has been trying desperately to be your friend, makes you want to continue crying. You don’t know how, but you keep your tears at bay.

You know that they can see that you were crying, but it brings you comfort to know that neither of them will push you to talk about anything. 

“Hey guys,” you try to put on your best smile as you greet them, you step aside without another word.

Eddie’s smile widens, he bumps his shoulder into Max. 

“Hey,” she smiles, still eying you worriedly, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, placing your hand on her shoulder, “I’m okay.” 

She doesn’t look convinced but she doesn’t push you to talk, she doesn’t ask any more questions either. She just walks straight into the living room. 

“She feels at home, huh?” Eddie chuckles. 

“It’s basically her second home so yeah,” you laugh. 

His brown eyes take you in, his lips twitch but his smile doesn’t fall. He looks like he wants to say something but he doesn’t speak up. 

You both follow Max into the living room, expecting her to be unpacking the snacks but instead she stands there frozen in place as she stares at the box of polaroids.

Your eyes widen and in panic, you rush over to the coffee table, wanting to close the box. 

“S-Shit, I’m sorry–”

“No!” She grabs your hand before you reach for the lid. “I-It’s okay, I’m okay. A-Are you though?” She asks as she looks away from the pictures of Billy. 

Eddie looks between you two, furrowing his brows as he takes a step closer. He looks into the box and his eyes widen instantly. 

“Holy shit, is that–”

“Eddie don’t,” Max warns him.

You shake your head, “no.. no, it’s okay, Max.”

Eddie doesn’t even look at Max or you, he is staring at the picture of her brother, in shock. 

“I-I promise, it’s okay,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose as you feel your heart starting to pound again, “I just.. I need some fresh air, I’ll be right back.” 

You leave the room, rushing out of the house. You sit down on the porch steps, taking a deep breath. The earthy smell that lingers after the rain comforts you a little. 

You knew you wouldn’t get more than a minute to yourself, because only moments later, the door opens. You know that it’s Eddie, you hear the flick of his lighter, and seconds later, the smell of smoke fills the air, mixing with the smell of the after rain. 

You hear his footsteps and then he sits down next to you. Without a word, he offers you the cigarette. You take it, placing it between your lips, you take a drag and blow out the smoke. 

Eddie doesn’t talk, he just wants you to know that he is here because he wants to be, he wants to be your friend but you don’t want to lose him too. 

“I lost a lot of people I cared about, Eddie.. Every single one of them, my parents, Chrissy, Billy.. I almost lost Max and you too,” You trail off, taking another drag before you hand him back the cigarette. “And I can’t lose any more people, Eds.”

He stares at you with his big sad eyes that you can’t bring yourself to look into for longer than two seconds. 

“I feel like I’m fucking cursed or something. Everything that I touch immediately rots. That’s why I just.. I keep pushing you away because I already lost a best friend.. so just please.” 

He sees the way you’re blinking, the way your hands are shaking just like your voice is. He knows what you’re asking of him and he only shakes his head in response, moving closer to you as he feels his own eyes burning. 

You’re his friend, a friend that he doesn’t want to lose either. 

“Nah.. It will take a whole swarm of demobats to rip me away from you. And even then, hey, I will still survive, already did once,” he tries to crack a joke but only makes you tear up even more. 

You finally turn to face him, looking into the kind eyes of your friend before your eyes move down to his neck, to the bandaid that covers his scar. 

“But–”

“No buts. You are not cursed. You are not responsible for anything that happened to those people. It’s okay to feel sad, it’s okay to hurt, it’s okay to love, Darling. Let yourself do it,” he says, smiling as he throws his cigarette on the pavement before he wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer, “and stop pushing me away, please.”

Your bottom lip trembles and the tears flow like a waterfall, you stop fighting it, you stop fighting him and you let him pull you into his arms, closing your eyes as you lay your head on his chest, letting yourself fall into the hug that you so desperately need. 

“Let it out, sweets.”

The soothing tone in his voice makes you cry even harder, your tears seep through his shirt but he doesn’t mind, he rubs your back and holds you. Your heart is crying, your brain is banging, your breaths are cut short thanks to your sobs, but it’s something you needed. And even through all of that, you are feeling so relieved, so light at each sob that rips out of your throat. 

And when you feel Max’s hand in yours, her head on your shoulder as Eddie still holds you, you know that everything will be okay, that you will be okay. You might not need anything else for now… these two people right here are making you feel fuller than you ever felt in the past year.

You won’t lose them. 

You won’t have to live without them. 

They will be more than just a short time. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals:

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @sherrylyn628 @livosssblog

[mrsnottt]

-I've only ever loved you!

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

Summary: where you and theo cross the boundaries of friendship.

warnings:slight mentions of smut near the end but purely fluff

note: I don't speak much English and i'm a first time writer let me know how I could improve pls!

It was a common occurrence for the group of slytherins to gather in the common room after a dreadful day of classses.

The boys had all gathered around the firepit. Mattheo,Lorenzo and Draco on the couch complaining about the last Quidditch game against Gryfinndor. Theo and Blaise sat side by side on their lounge chairs sharing a cigarette amongst themselves.

As you packed your bag and got ready to leave your final lesson your path was blocked by Cormac McLaggen “hey y/n are you still into that dumb slytherin or you going to take me up on my previous offer” it had taken a lot of energy to not punch him then and there.

“Cormac we’re never going to be a thing get over it” just as he was about to retaliate Pansy had thankfully interrupted him by pushing you into the direction of the door and showing him the finger.Once we were out of sight she began to ramble on “What a dick it’s been what 3 years ,come on, everyone can tell you and Theo are infatuated with each other”

“pansy come on it’s not like that” you didnt know why you still insisted when you knew she knew you better then yourself “yeah yeah why else have you been single your whole life?” you just rolled your eyes not in the mood to have the same repetitive conversation.

It's not that you didn’t like Theo it’s just you thought it was too good to be true.While you had been single he had managed to be seen at different parties with different girls and a part of your heart would break each time while you waited for your turn.

“Okay i’ll stop talking but will you tell him what happened and how McLeery will not stop bugging you” that had made you chuckle but it stopped when you thought about how Mclaggen had followed you around school during fifth year begging you to date him until Theo found out and had beaten him black and blue and he didn't stop until Mattheo and Lorenzo had dragged him away from the boy that became limp on the floor with blood everywhere. You shiver as you recalled the memories “I think i’ll refrain from telling him this time”

Y/N and Pansy had just returned to the common room from the final class of the day.

As you and pansy went down the stairs towards the boys you looked up and were met with theo’s eyes and he beckoned you over to sit with him as we made our way over you felt pansy nudge you and you looked over to see her wiggling her eyebrows teasing you.

You couldn't blame me for my feelings for the Italian boy with the hypnotising eyes, we had met during first year and have been inseparable since. We were probably the closest to each other amongst the group, we had been with each other through ups and downs and found comfort within each other.

As you made your way over to Theo he discarded his cigarette on the ashtray. You had gone to sit on the armchair but he snaked an arm around your waist and moved you over to sit on his lap "that's better amore mio" he then started playing with the ends of your hair while focusing on his conversation with Blaise.

As you turned around to face the other boys and pansy while trying to appear unfazed which was harder then it looked especially with Theo rubbing circles on your inner thighs causing butterflies to appear in your tummy.

You gave pansy a knowing look once you saw her move over to cuddle with Blaise. Apart of you felt quite jealous of how easy it was for your friends to form relationships but of course the other part of you felt joyful for your friends.

You began to relax in his arms and lay your head on the side of his neck until a trail of goosebumps began to form on your neck from Theo whispering “Are you feeling okay?You don't look well,my love” with the soft gaze in his eyes when he looked at you it was hard to not give in but you just nodded “I just had a long day and had double DADA lessons with Snape."

Theo looked at you unconvinced but he seemed to have let it go “Do you want to take a nap in my dorm and then we can hang out with them later” he knew you so well you gently nodded,now feeling more tired at the thought of sleeping.

He tapped on your thigh to alert you to stand up as he took you by the hand informing the group we were going for a nap. You refused to look back avoiding Pansys knowing look.

As he led you up the stairs to his dorm and brought you into the room with his hand still intertwined with yours.The room that was usually resided by Mattheo and Lorenzo now empty Theo had now gotten comfortable on his bed whilst you took of your shoes.

Theo spread out his arms inviting you into his embrace,you gladly joined him. After a few moments of silence Theo began to play with your hair and you glanced up to him to find him already looking at you “You know you don't have to hide what your feeling Amore mio”he let out a sigh“I know but i just don’t want to stir the pot or anything” He gave you a look which meant ‘stop playing or i’ll found out myself’ which caused you to reluctantly spill.

“It’s just i’ve been single my whole life and now i’m not sure if i’m destined to face unrequited love for the rest of my life and i feel like everyone’s gained some experience including you who has a a different girl each party and i feel like I'm missing out” you let out a breathe you didn’t know you were holding from your rant.

You felt like a weight was taken of your shoulders you glanced up again to see what he was thinking “principessa ,I truly wish you could see yourself the way i see you and how worthy and valuable you are,none of those girls compare to you and those excuses of a men don't even deserve to breathe the same oxygen as you."and with that he left a kiss on your forehead

Even though you felt flustered you couldn’t believed the words that come out of his mouth in absolute awe your gaze dropped down to his lips as he licked it and your words had began to spill out of your mouth “Would you ever love me more than a friend?" he looked taken aback and started to shift which made you regret your words instantly "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable I don't know why I said that" you started to remove yourself from his hold in a panic over the possibility of ruining your friendship before he pushed you back onto the bed, held you by the waist to secure you in place and connected your lips together with him on top of you.

His soft,pinkish lips against yours as you both fought for dominance he gently bit your lower lip.It felt as if your lips perfectly fit together and you knew it was going to be your new addiction. You both separated gasping for air "ti amo così tanto mio tesoro"(I love you so much my darling) you gazed up at him unable to speak you felt like you were in a trance"I love you so much I can’t even explain it in words but I know I only want you for the rest of my life and you heal different pieces of my heart each time I lay eyes on you" you couldn't even fathom the things he was saying it had all felt surreal.

"I love you too ragazzo carino" (pretty boy) you replied leaning up to give him another peck on his lips "does that mean your finally mine Bella ragazza?" (pretty girl) you chuckled you felt like the stars and moon had aligned "of course,its not like I haven't been longing for you since third year"at the confirmation he had been waiting for Theo tugged you closer to him on top of you giving you another kiss that should be written in the books.

The kiss began to heat up and become more passionate ,full of emotion, he tugged on the hemline of your shirt taking it off. His fingers crawling slowly upwards,stopping at your sternum.

You interrupted the kiss before it could go further "At least Mclaggen will finally leave me alone"Theo let out a groan at the mention of the boy "ugh principessa why would you mention him"you giggled as he rolled his eye out of annoyance "That bastard won't be able to touch you with a ten-foot pole"you felt yourself get turned on at his sudden anger "why don't you show him who I belong to?"

Theo grinned at the idea and continued his previous actions displaying his love for you all over your body.

The thought of a nap being long-forgotten..

[smartkookiee]

How to Lose A Guy in 30 Days! || Ch.2 — jjk.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: strangers to lovers, 18+ ❥chapter warnings/tags: software engineer!Jungkook, writer!Reader, fluff (tooth rot worthy), yay first date woohooooo, Jungkook having an immense knowledge about fish(like a nerd), rom com clichés left and right, cute Jungkook, early 2000’s rom com vibes??, kissing, drinking (if you squint), ❥word-count: 8.6k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 - send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list. ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

“I can’t believe you’re going out with him tomorrow.” Ronnie bumped her hip against yours as she sat down on your couch next to you, “And on a Sunday.”

It was the night after. Jungkook sent you a nice good morning text and asked if you were available tomorrow to go out. You had tried–really tried–to come up with any possible excuse to put off the date but alas fell short. So you agreed, you thought  sooner this got started the sooner you could be done with it. 

 “Well we have to start somewhere.” Which wasn’t a lie, Jungkook’s text was a surprise. “I actually didn’t expect him to act so soon.”

Ronnie laughed, clearly amused, “What are you guys going to do? Dinner? Dancing? Skydiving?” 

“I don’t know.” You slumped back further into the cushions. “He said he was planning something. I made a jab about him about not being a serious guy, and now he’s all, I’ll show you how serious I can be.” 

“How serious he can be? It’s a first date not a proposal.”

“We’ll see, I guess. Honestly, I have no idea how to go about this. I’m supposed to date him, but then, you know... gradually become annoying.” You gestured vaguely, not even sure what annoying would look like yet.

“I know just who can help with that.” Ronnie patted you on the knee and then immediately started typing frantically on her phone. 

“Oh no,” You knew immediately what she was doing. 

Twenty minutes later, a myriad of knocks came from your front door. Opening your door, and in walked Jin with a flourish, his signature grin plastered across his face. In one hand, he held a bottle of wine, and in the other, a notepad that looked suspiciously like it had been used for devious plans before. He paused dramatically in the doorway, like a game show host about to reveal a grand prize.

“I’ve been summoned.” Jin declared, his voice as grand as his entrance.

An already exhausted sigh leaves you, “Oh hi. So good to see you, come on in.” Your voice drips with sarcasm. You let your door close and you make your way back onto the couch next to Ronnie. Settling in for whatever Jin clearly had prepared

Jin had placed himself in the front of your living room, like he had prepared a full presentation just for this occasion. “I was told my assistance was needed so I am here to grant it.” He did a small bow before the two of you and you roll your eyes

“Here we go.” You tease but Jin looked a little offended. 

“You,” He hits your leg with his note pad, and your mouth falls open at the gesture. “My dear, have a tendency to stray from the goal. You’re going on a date with this guy–”

“You told him?” You gave a side eye to Ronnie, you were of course going to tell Jin but probably after. 

Innocently, Ronnie shrugged. "You need a strong team to help you, who better than Jin to have around.” 

“Exactly.” Jin perked up and you decided to surrender and listen. “As your coach I am going to make sure we get make to the end game…” He gestures to you like he is expecting your answer. 

“To lose the guy in 30 days.” 

“Correct!” Jin pulls a pen seemingly out of nowhere, Marking something down on his notepad. “One point for you.” 

“Wait, we are getting points?” Ronnie perked up, her clear competitive side showing through. 

“Indeed!” Jin confirmed with a grin, enjoying the theatrics. “Anyways—”

“Hold on.” You cut him off, curiosity getting the better of you. “What do we get if we win?”

Jin paused, clearly not expecting this twist. He groaned, tapping his pen against his chin, deep in thought. After a moment, he dramatically sighed. “Fine. I’ll buy your dinner next time we go out.”

“Deal,” You and Ronnie said in unison, sharing a knowing look. Giving each other a sportsmanlike handshake.

Jin waits for a moment like he is a teacher in class, “ May I begin?” You and Ronnie both nod and settle back into the couch. “Firstly we need to go over your big rules for this.”

“Rules?”

“Important things to remember!” Jin cleared his throat. With a quick flip of his notepad, he glanced down, all business now. “Rule number one—”

“You made some already?” You interrupt him again.

He cut you off with a finger to his lips, “Number one. We will not be falling in love with Jungkook.”

“I’m not going to fall in love with him. I don’t even know him!” You sit up with some protest. 

Jin narrowed his eyes, his glare accusing. “You have a tendency to fall a little too easily for wit and charm! Remember, Jungkook is a serial fuck boy!.” Jin paused for effect and turns around his notepad and underlines the note he has that says, in all caps: SERIAL FUCKBOY. Followed by other rules and scribbles along the rest of the page.

Ronnie let’s out a small laugh and you resign yourself back, “Okay fair point.”

 “What’s the first rule?” Jin repeats pointing his pen back at you. 

“We will not fall in love with Jungkook!” Ronnie raises her hand but blurts it out and you just huff. Although this rule was fair, you knew it but it didn’t feel great to be called out on it. 

“Point to Ronnie. Rule number two.” Jin waves his pen around in the air like its a wand, “Be annoying at any given opportunity but not too annoying. So sending too many texts, memes,, calling him at inappropriate times.”

“Or calling one too many times!” Ronnie added on to the end of his statement. 

“Half point for adding an idea.” Jin scribbled on his pad for a moment. 

You scratched the side of your head, feeling a twinge of discomfort. “Okay, this one might actually be hard.”

Jin arched a brow. “Why?”

You shifted a little, pulling your knees up onto the couch. “I’m not really the overbearing type. I usually let people have their space, give them time... It’s just not who I am.”

Jin clicked his tongue, wagging his finger at you like a disappointed parent. “This is why you need to fight your people-pleasing instincts! A delicate task, but one you must master.” 

You sighed, already feeling the internal battle. “I know, I know. I’ll try.”

“Good girl,” Jin praised, patting your head dramatically. “If it’s too hard, just let one of us take over. We’ve got no skin in the game, so we can be as obnoxious as we want.” He gestured to himself and then Ronnie, who had an evil expression across her face.

“I’ll take any opportunity to torture a man.” Ronnie wiggled her eyebrows at you, and nudged her with your shoulder.

Jin clapped his hands together, refocusing the energy in the room. “Now, what’s rule number two?”

“Be annoying at any given opportunity.” You sigh and repeat it back to him. 

“Point to Y/N.” Jin marked down on his notepad again, “Rule number three. This is not going to be a serious relationship. Period.”

“This is a rule?”

“More like a reminder.” Jin looked a bit more serious, “You have a tendency to fall into the I can fix him trap. That is not the case here, this guy does not want anything long term. So you have to avoid your natural attachment instincts.” 

“As well as your situation will be starting on false pretenses.” Ronnie pointed out, which was true. All of this was starting on a lie. An experiment.

“Okay that’s fair.”

Funny enough though, this is the most detached you had ever felt going into a first date. Other first dates you had been really nervous or really excited and you were thinking through every word and every touch a little too deeply. This time felt totally laid back and different. Like it might be easy and you could keep yourself from falling into your usual habits.

“Rule number three?” Jin waved, waiting for the answer. 

Both you and Ronnie repeated at the same time, “This is not going to become a serious relationship.”

“Point to you both.” 

The game continued for a while, with Jin rattling off a mixture of absurd, funny, and surprisingly thoughtful rules. Some had you rolling your eyes, others made you laugh.. There was something about the way Jin played this out—keeping you focused on the goal without letting the seriousness of it weigh you down.

In the back of your mind, you realized what he was doing. Jin was good at that, pulling you out of your overthinking spiral and making everything feel lighter. It wasn’t about figuring out all the answers now—it was just a date. All the complicated stuff? You could deal with that later. He had this way of turning every dilemma into something manageable, even fun.

Jungkook wasn’t some life-altering mystery; he was just a random guy. By the end of this, it would be nothing but a funny story. One of those "remember when" tales you'd laugh about over drinks. Difficult? Maybe. But funny? Definitely. 

However much you were planning a sabotage, Jungkook was trying to plan the greatest first date ever. Except it wasn’t going quite as planned. Jungkook had not been on a real first date in years. What did people do on first dates anymore? 

“Fun things to do on first dates… reddit.” Jungkook muttered to himself, typing on his phone.. Hoseok didn’t quite hear what Jungkook was muttering and looking over his shoulder to see what he was searching for. 

“Don’t tell me you are consulting reddit for date ideas.” He chuckled but stopped when he realized how serious Jungkook looked. “Dude, come on. Since when do you care this much about a first date?”. 

Jungkook groaned, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t remember the last time I was on a real one, Hobi. It’s been... a while. Every date I’ve been on, we both knew what it was about, well you know. No expectations.” He frowned at his phone, closing the tab in frustration. “I don’t want it to be lame.”

“If I didn’t know you better I would think you cared or something." Hoseok pinched Jungkook’s cheek with some exaggerated affection, but Jungkook pushed him away.

“Well that’s the thing. We have to be able to talk and get to know each other. Which I suck at.” To Hoseok, Jungkook actually looked to be concerned and it seemed important. Hoseok would almost believe Jungkook wanted to prove a bigger point by winning this bet against Jimin and Taehyung. 

“And usually you spend your time what… not really talking?” Hoseok thought but felt stupid for even questioning it. “Right. I forgot who I was talking too.”

Jungkook shifted uncomfortably. “Okay, okay, I get it. I don’t exactly… excel in the conversation department.”

“Excel in other things apparently.” Hoseok laughed and Jungkook rubbed his face. 

“Well now I need to change my ways.” Jungkook groaned before thinking, “You know, a really good friend would help me in my time of need.”

“No.”

“Please?”

Hoseok looked straight ahead, trying to ignore the pleading. “No way. I’m not getting sucked into that ridiculous group bet you guys cooked up. I have standards, you know.” Hoseok held his ground, knowing he will fold if he saw Jungkook’s pathetic face. Jungkook was giving him that sad little pouty face anyways. 

“Please Hobi. I’ll owe you big time.” Jungkook whined and shook Hoseok by the shoulders. "Plus you are great on first dates.”

“You don’t know that.” 

“You always have these great date stories. You’re really good at this stuff.” Jungkook settled back and let Hoseok go. 

Hoseok sighed and gave him a sidelong glance. “You’re not as hopeless as you think, you know. You’re just out of practice.”

Jungkook instantly perked up. “I knew you couldn’t resist helping me.”

“Yeah yeah whatever, but this is the last time I will help you with any of this.” Hoseok gave a warning finger to Jungkook, “I’m only doing this for this poor girl.”

“Deal.” Jungkook nodded quickly, ready to move on, but Hoseok wasn’t done.

“Be honest with me though.” Hoseok’s tone was even more serious now and Jungkook gave his full attention, “Are you going to tell this girl the truth when this is all over? It’s messed up if you’re just dating her to win the money and then dump her.” 

Jungkook froze for a second. The thought hadn’t fully crossed his mind in detail before now, which, in itself, was a red flag. He had been so focused on the logistics of the bet and the potential payoff that he hadn’t considered the real impact on you. Which, Hoseok was right, made him kind of a jerk by default. 

“Yeah. I’ll tell her the truth. I’ll be completely honest once it’s all over. And then… she can decide what she wants to do.” “Okay… just feels really weird. If you are only dating her for the money.” Hoseok pointed out, not fully convinced by Jungkook’s statement.

Jungkook bit his lip. Hoseok had a point, and now that it was out in the open, it ate at him. The bet really felt harmless in nature. A chance to see if Jungkook was even built for dating anymore. The money was a nice bonus, sure, and getting to date an attractive woman didn’t hurt either. But now, he was starting to see the faults in all of this.

It had been… longer than he liked to admit since he’d dated someone seriously. Even longer since he’d genuinely liked someone. He didn’t want this to turn into some shallow game where feelings got stomped on in the process.

“I promise I am going to give this a real shot. Beyond the money.” Jungkook was sure and confident in his answer. Even if he wasn’t so confident in how he was feeling about dating again. 

Hoseok studied Jungkook for a moment, but found he was satisfied with the answer. “Who knows maybe this will turn out really great for you. If you take it seriously, maybe this could be something really great.” 

“Okay let’s not jump too far ahead.” Jungkook nervously laughed, “Let’s get past the first date.” After all, Jungkook still had plenty of time to mess this up and it could all be for nothing.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Day 1

Leaving the train station, all the nerves you thought you didn’t have about all of this rushed through you. Your heart thudded in your chest as you made your way up unfamiliar streets. You checked in with Jungkook this morning the plan and he had sent you and address to what looked to be a café. That’s what you’d seen when you pulled it up on Maps, and yet, it felt like more than just a casual coffee date. A sense of unease tugged at you.

You had tried subtly fishing for details earlier, asking what you should wear, but he only responded vaguely with a simple dress nice. No clues. Just…nice. So, you were left to mull over your wardrobe, trying not to overthink it, but of course that did not work.

Yesterday, you had convinced yourself this would be no big deal, but now? It felt like you were walking yourself into a trap you laid yourself. Yes this was for work but you couldn’t help but feel so strange with all of it. You had to keep reminding yourself, this was all business. This is for your professional career. 

It was the only thing that kept you grounded, instead of daydreaming. 

When you rounded the final corner and spotted the café, your stomach did a sharp flip. There he was, Jungkook. Standing by the door, leaning ever so casually against the wall. He looked different, so different that for a second, you almost didn’t realize it was him. He wasn’t the guy you’d run into casually at the bar anymore. No, he looked polished. Adult.

He wore a pair of well-tailored black slacks that hugged his hips, and a white button-up with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, showing off his tattoos in a way that made your heart skip. You didn’t really see his tattoos at the bar so now you had a chance to actually see them. 

Two buttons were left undone at the top, and you caught a glimpse of a silver chain against his skin. His dark hair, usually so relaxed, was flipped out at the ends, styled deliberately but effortlessly. He had on sunglasses, so you couldn’t quite read his expression.

 Oh no. Oh no no no. 

Because this Jungkook and the Jungkook at the bar were suddenly two completely different people. Jungkook at the bar was a guy you could easily mess with… this Jungkook… was exactly your type. 

Shit.

You pull out your phone and send a frantic text. 

:ABORT! 

Ronnie: The date hasn’t even started!

Ronnie: YOU CAN DO THIS!

:I can’t. He cleaned up. You were right I can’t do this. 

Ronnie: NO

Ronnie: REMEMBER YOUR RULES

This is not a serious relationship. You will not fall in love with Jungkook. He is a serial fuck boy. 

You could hear Jin’s words clearly in your mind. So clearly in fact, but another part of your mind and heart were speaking louder. That little part of you that liked that he put some thought into how he dressed for this. He actually took careful consideration into how he should present himself for you. It made that little pink heart of yours flutter with excitement. 

Snap out of it. He’s just a guy.

You shake your head, and ground yourself. You are a writer. You are doing this in the name of research and science. You can do this. This is just a date. A date. 

You force one foot in front of you, going over to him, “Jungkook.” flashing your best smile, the one you hope masks the unease swirling in your stomach.

Jungkook’s eyes snap up to meet yours, and his entire face lights up with a warm, easy grin that disarms you for a moment. He pushes a hand through his hair, letting the dark strands fall effortlessly back into place.

Jungkook found himself a little disarmed as well. He had gotten a lot of tips from Hoseok the night before about how he should act and carry himself if he wanted to do this right… but he didn’t expect you to look so cute. You’re dressed in something simple—casual but still pretty. Your smile was so warm and inviting he immediately felt that desire to pull any of his usual lines, but he fought that urge. 

This is not a hookup, this is a real date. 

“I’ve gotta hand it to you,” Jungkook says, his tone teasing. “I thought for sure you’d ditch me.”

You force a laugh, though it’s a little shaky, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your nerves are still very much present. “Had to see for myself if you could actually step up.”

He chuckles and steps back, spreading his arms out to his sides as if presenting himself for inspection. His confidence is palpable, and it makes it worse? Better? No, definitely worse. “Told you I could take this seriously.”

And he had. Hoseok actually decided Jungkook should go for dressy but simple. Simpler the better. Means you are seeing him and not a façade. Hoseok had warned him to not carry himself too high because it could come off as arrogant. So he retreated from his normal confident stance, trying to pull his natural instinct back a bit. Why was this so hard?

“That’s for me to judge,” You say, lifting your chin and tilting your head at him playfully. “Date’s barely begun.”

“Well,” Jungkook held the café door open for you, “I thought a quick coffee and a short train ride wouldn’t hurt to start.” 

“Do I get to know where we are going now?” 

“Now why ruin the magic?” Jungkook's tone is a little more flirtatious now. You couldn’t help it when it makes you blush, but you try to shake it off.

The two of you grabbed your drinks to-go and quickly left the café, heading toward the train station. The conversation so far had been light—small pleasantries exchanged, but nothing too deep. It felt like you were both easing into the moment, cautiously testing the waters. Jungkook, however, was doing a surprisingly good job of keeping things moving, keeping the energy up. He seemed determined to make sure this date went well, as if he had something to prove—not just to you, but maybe even to himself.

The city blurred past the windows, concrete and steel flashing by, though your mind wasn’t really on the view. The train rumbled beneath your feet, the soft hum of people chattering fading into the background. You were acutely aware of Jungkook standing so close, his presence hard to ignore.

“So here we are,” Jungkook said with a small smirk, leaning in just enough to catch your eye.

“Here we are,” you echoed, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I know we’ve got to do the usual first-date dance,” he continued, taking a casual sip of his drink. “So feel free to ask me whatever you want.”

“Anything?” You smirked, sensing an opportunity for fun.

“Anything at all,” Jungkook replied, mirroring your playful tone. “I’m a completely open book.”

You paused for a beat, keeping the moment light. “Alright, let’s start simple. Job?”

“Engineer,” he replied confidently. “You?”

“Writer.” Your response was met with a raised brow from him.

“Very interesting,” Jungkook remarked, almost like he hadn’t expected that answer.

You tilted your head slightly. “How so?”

“I just don’t meet many writers. Journalist?”

“Correct.” You smirked, impressed with his deduction. “Okay, your turn. Hobbies?”

Jungkook's eyes brightened at the question, and he leaned in closer, his hand still gripping the pole above. “Photography.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? What kind of work do you do?”

“Street photography,” He shot you a grin, clearly pleased. He didn’t get to talk about his photography very much these days. “Mostly just day to day things. People living their lives or things that I find pretty. I like how raw it feels.”

He didn’t think he would be sharing this but Hoseok did say he should be less afraid to share the more vulnerable sides of his personality. 

“That’s... actually really cool,” you admitted, genuinely impressed. It was clear this hobby wasn’t just for show. It was something he cared about. “Do you ever share your work?”

He looked down for a moment, a shy laugh escaping him. “Not really. I mean, I’ve shown a few to close friends, but it’s more for me. A way to... I don’t know, relax, I guess. Focus.”

You hadn’t realized it but you had become so laser focused on him now. You shook your head and had to remind yourself to come back to reality. Remember, he’s only saying these things to impress you; it’s not real.

Jungkook continued, “What about you?” 

“Painting. It’s a new hobby so I’m really terrible.” You laugh thinking about your really sad first attempt at watercolor sitting on your dining table at home. You had tried to just do a simple flower but it definitely looks like a small creature instead. 

“Anything I could see?”

“God no,” you laugh a little too loud and embarrassed, “Trust me they are terrible.” You pause for a second and think, “Okay, how about your favorite food?” 

“Easy. Fried chicken.” His answer was quick, like it was non-negotiable. “Yours?”

“Pasta. Any kind, really.”

“Oh I make a really good carbonara.” He threw the comment out there seeing if you would bite. 

“Is this your invitation at a second date?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“We’ll have to find out.” 

You brush past his comment, “What’s the last movie you watched?”

“Interstellar.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Not bad. So you’re into space stuff?”

“Who isn’t?” Jungkook's expression softened, eyes glinting with a bit of excitement. “You?”

“10 things I hate about you.”

“Romance fan?”

“I’m a sucker for a good love story.” You shrug.

Jungkook laughed, glancing around the train as if to make sure no one else was eavesdropping on your banter. “Alright, one more from me: What’s something people don’t know about you?”

You leaned back in your seat, tapping your chin like you were really pondering it. “I’m embarrassingly bad at bowling.”

Jungkook laughed again, his grin wide and easy. “Awe so you’re saying our second date should be bowling?”

“Only if you’re okay with watching me throw gutter balls all night,” you teased.

“I’ll just have to teach you,” Jungkook quipped, his flirtation bubbling back to the surface. The playful tension between you building. 

Jungkook was surprised at himself, because he was actually good at this. Keeping things light, fun, yet somehow engaging enough to make you feel at ease. The back-and-forth flowed effortlessly, and before you knew it, the train slowed for your stop.

“So how am I doing so far?” Jungkook asked, as you both hopped off the train.

You took a slow sip of your coffee, drawing out the silence to keep him in suspense. Humming, you finally raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, the coffee’s good, so points there.” you mused, “but the scenery? It left a lot to be desired.” You teased, gesturing subtly to the less-than-charming view from the train window.

“Well our next location will have a much better view I promise.” Jungkook assured. 

Before long, the two of you arrived at your destination—the aquarium. To your surprise, despite the cliché of an aquarium being a typical first-date spot, there was something about it that immediately felt special. Jungkook had already secured the passes online, casually pulling them up on his phone as you neared the entrance. His relaxed demeanor seemed to contrast with your initial nerves, but seeing him here, comfortable in a place like this was calming in itself. 

“I’ve never been here, actually,” you mused, taking in the murals that adorned the entrance. Sea creatures, some extinct and some from modern day stretched up toward the high ceilings. It was both beautiful and intriguing, the imagery setting the tone for what lay inside.

Jungkook followed your gaze, a small smile tugging at his lips as he leaned closer. “Well, you’re in good hands. You’re with the foremost aquarium expert in the city,” he said with a playful glint in his eyes. “I’ve been coming here since I was a kid, so I can probably tell you more about the fish than the staff can.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his confidence. “Oh? A fish expert, huh? I’m expecting a seriously educated tour then. I want to walk away knowing everything about aquatic life.”

Jungkook chuckled, his grin widening. “Trust me, by the time we leave, you’ll be able to name at least three species of jellyfish without googling it.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “That’s quite the promise.”

Jungkook then guided you inside, the cool, dimly lit interior of the aquarium enveloped the both of you, contrasting sharply with the bright, bustling world outside. The gentle hum of water filtering through the tanks that expanded both walls of the exhibit, mixed with the occasional murmur of other visitors, created a serene atmosphere. It was pretty busy, most with other families and some teenagers running around. Jungkook led the way confidently through everyone, his playful energy still very present, but with an ease that was contagious.

Jungkook caught a glimpse of your profile as you took in the vibrant sea creatures. She looks intrigued, he thought. His heart raced a little, and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Maybe I’m doing a good job so far.

“Alright, let’s start here,” He pointed towards the first exhibit, a massive floor-to-ceiling tank filled with vibrant schools of tropical fish darting through the corals. “Fun fact—most of these fish are native to the Indo-Pacific region.”

“Impressive,” you replied, glancing between him and the fish, already intrigued. “What else?”

Jungkook’s grin widened as he launched into an impromptu lecture about the ecosystem of coral reefs, his enthusiasm making it hard not to be drawn in. As much as you were supposed to be trying to find little annoyances for your plan, you couldn’t help but enjoy the flow of the conversation. It didn’t feel forced. Instead, it was comfortable—lighthearted, but surprisingly informative.

“Okay, okay,” you interrupted at one point, leaning slightly into him as you looked up at the jellyfish exhibit. The tank glowed softly with blue and purple lights, jellyfish gracefully floating like little underwater ghosts. “What about these? Teach me about jellyfish, Mr. Expert.”

“Ah, jellyfish,” Jungkook said dramatically, pausing like he was about to unveil a great mystery. “Jellyfish have what are called hydrostatic skeleton.”

“And what are those?” You blinked, you expression clearly saying you had no idea what that meant.

“They have no bones, they have circular muscles and they have to contract their muscles to move along the ocean.” he nodded. “There is also a species that is essentially immortal. Turritopsis dohrnii. They can reset to their juvenile form after reaching maturity, which allows them to avoid dying of old age. So, yeah, immortal jellyfish.”

You stared at him for a second, half-expecting him to say he was joking, but the serious expression on his face told you otherwise. “Okay, that’s actually super cool. You weren’t kidding about being an expert.”

As the two of you wandered through the aquarium, it surprise you how easily the conversation flowed between the both of you. Jungkook pointed out different fish, talked about their unique traits, and asked you questions too, like what your favorite animal was or whether you had any pets growing up. It didn’t feel like an interrogation, but more like a genuine curiosity, and that put you more at ease.

You reached the penguin exhibit, and Jungkook stopped in front of the glass, his eyes lighting up as a group of penguins waddled by. “Penguins are the best,” he declared, “They mate for life, you know?”

“Now that I did know. I’ve seen march of the penguins.” To be fair is was when you were extremely young and that may be the only fact you could pull from the movie. 

“I used to sit here and watch the penguins for hours. I just thought they were so cool when they would slide along on their bellies.” Jungkook mused and realized he had been guiding the conversation for a while now. “Seriously stop me anytime though. I can go on and on about animal facts.” 

“Don’t stop! I think it’s cute,” you said, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. The moment felt light and playful, and you liked it.

“Oh, so you think I’m cute?” Jungkook smirked, wiggling his brows. The thought sent a flutter through your chest, and you felt heat creeping up your cheeks. 

“Or just a nerd.” You pull yourself away in front of the exhibit and start to press on to the next section. “Come on geek!” 

It was hard to remember you were supposed to be finding ways to be annoying or difficult when things were going this smoothly. Maybe Jin and Ronnie would have to help more with that later because, right now, this was actually...fun. More fun than you had expected.

As you both continued on through the aquarium, the awkwardness that often accompanies first dates seemed to non existent. By the time you reached the final exhibit—an enormous tank filled with sharks and stingrays gliding overhead. It surrounded the entire room and there were section you could go and stand and watch fish swim above you. You and Jungkook found a nice spot to sit and to just watch. You had a found a fascination with a rather large stingray floating around the tank. 

“I’m in heavy anticipation for your shark facts.” You kick your feet back and forth and glance to your side at Jungkook who was enraptured with the tank. 

“Maybe not a fun fact, but hammerheads will trap sting rays with their heads to the seafloor to catch and eat them.” 

“Huh,” he was correct not so fun but still interesting, “I always wondered what their heads we good for.”

Jungkook hummed, a smile on his face. He had started the day nervous but he felt so comfortable now. The aquarium was actually Hoseok's idea, told Jungkook he should go somewhere where he could be at ease and maybe show off a bit. Now showing off fish facts may have been unconventional, it was working here. You seemed to be really enjoying yourself, and laughing at most of his little jokes.

In that moment of silence, as he observed a sleek shark swim by, he glanced over at you, his voice softening. “So, how am I doing so far? Honestly.”

You looked at him, taking a beat before answering. “Well, I’ll admit I didn’t expect you to actually be this...interesting.” You teased, keeping it light. “But you’ve definitely surprised me.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his expression. “Surprised you in a good way, I hope?”

It was good, but horribly horribly bad. Because you weren’t sure if you could go through with this, Jungkook was nice and goofy. He took you somewhere he clearly really enjoyed and spent his day trying to make you laugh and smile. It was one of the best first dates you had been on in a long time. Maybe Jin had the completely wrong idea about Jungkook? Maybe this was all a mistake? Maybe you could find something real with Jungkook. 

You would have to find a different guy for your experiment, not ideal but you admittedly were already having a small crush on Jungkook. A small voice in the back of your mind was screaming, I told you so. I knew you couldn’t do this. You are too much of a gooey romantic to pull this off. 

“Good so far.” You smile, and turn your body to face him, “Okay, ask me anything you want. My turn to be an open book.” 

“Oh really?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow but also adjusted to face you. “Okay. What made you become a writer?” 

“Oh, good question.” You thought for a moment, “I used to be a mini reporter when I was younger. I used to dress up like an old 40’s style detective or journalist and I would write news stories about things happening in my neighborhood.” 

“Did you pick up anything juicy?”

You shook your head, laughing at the memory. “Not at all. It was usually just anything I saw happen. Like breaking news: Ryan fell off his bike, or Mrs. Johnson bought apples and milk from the store. It was never anything groundbreaking, but I loved it.” Excitement seeped into your tone. “As I got older, I realized I liked reporting and journalism of any kind, even trashy magazine writing. I just wanted to be one of them. Have my name on something like that.”

Jungkook listened intently, fascinated. He found himself wrapped up in how animated and alive you looked talking about your passion. He admired the way your hands danced through the air as you spoke, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to picture you living out your dreams, pen in hand, telling the stories of the world.

“So what are you writing now?” Jungkook wanted to hear more, hear more about what made you excited. 

You paused, because even though Jungkook didn’t know, that was a heavy question. “The promotion I mentioned the other night? I’m getting promoted from research to an actual writer for the magazine I’m at.” 

Jungkook eyebrows shot up, “That’s incredible.” 

“I know. It’s a huge deal and the piece I’m working on is… well.” You chewed on your lip, “It’s a research heavy piece and requires me to go out and do some actual field work.” 

“I want to read it when it’s done.” Jungkook had a genuine smile on his face and he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since you started. You had just now noticed and all of those first date nerves came bubbling up in you. 

“Oh, no.” You let out a breathy laugh, “It’ll be just a silly little think piece when it’s done.”

“So?” Jungkook tilted his head trying to meet your eyes, “I want to be your first reader when it’s published. Then I can walk around and brag about it.” 

You nervously laugh to yourself, “I’ll make sure you get the first copy.” 

Even though inside you were thinking, absolutely no way in hell is that happening. 

“Perfect,” he said, nodding eagerly. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The two of you settled back into a comfortable silence, your gaze drifting back to the mesmerizing display of fish swimming above. You couldn’t help but feel lighter.

“So what do you think your ultimate goal as a writer is?” It surprised you little when he continued, you didn’t think he would want to know more about it. 

“I think…” You said for a moment, watching a school of fish go by in the glass. “I want to be a funny writer but also someone who makes you think. I want my work to feel real but also force you to really examine yourself.” 

“Well when you get famous and stuff,” Jungkook stood from his seat, “I get to say I knew you.” He extended a hand out to you. He hadn’t offered his hand the entire date, but he felt like now was appropriate. 

You stared at it for a moment, he's just helping you up that's all, then you slipped your hand into his and stood with him. So to your own surprise, he didn’t let you go. Jungkook lacing his fingers into yours, and it made your heart race in your chest. Goosebumps rising on your skin. 

“Now we still have plenty of other things left to see.” With a swift movement Jungkook began to pull you along into the rest of the aquarium. 

You both bounced around exhibits you had already seen and joked around a lot along the way. Jungkook also had plenty of more fish facts to throw out when you would encounter something you may have missed before. After a while the both of you managed to make it back to the front of the aquarium and found the gift shop. 

“Oh these are cute.” You pull up a pair of tiny penguins that had magnets in the fins that held them together. “I think you can split them up so you can give one to someone.” 

“That’s really cute.” Jungkook really wasn’t looking at anything, he was having more fun watching you look around at the items. Everything a bit too overpriced. 

You had a thought in mind, and took the penguins up to the counter. After the cashier rung you up and you took the penguins out of their package and gave one to Jungkook. He looked confused. 

“One for you.” you smiled, “For such a nice first date.” 

“They mate for life, you can’t split them up.” Jungkook fake pointed and you rolled your eyes, you eyes the pocket on the front of his button up and tucked the penguin into his pocket. It fit perfectly so the head was sticking out. 

You giggle a little at it and Jungkook smiles at your amusement, you then stick the other penguin to the shirt to see if the magnets would still stick and to your surprise they do indeed stick together. Jungkook also laughs at the gesture and then hands the other penguin back to you. 

As Jungkook handed you the second penguin, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth at his playful smile. It felt like a secret shared between the two of you, an inside joke that was unique to this moment. You turned the penguin over in your hands, admiring the tiny details.

“These little guys can be a reminder of our first adventure together,” you said, glancing up at him. “Every time I see mine, I’ll think of you and all your random fish facts.”

“I knew all of this aquatic knowledge would come in handy some day.”

The both of you made your way out to the entrance of the aquarium. You weren’t even really sure what time it was but the sun was starting to set and it was raining outside to both of your surprise. You and Jungkook had been so wrapped up in the day you hadn't even thought to even check your phones or check the weather for the day. Jungkook hadn’t either, he really hadn’t expected to enjoy himself this much but here he was. He really didn’t want the date to end. 

“We might have to make a run for the subway.” Jungkook glanced out the windows, it was really coming down hard now. 

“I’m so going to get sick.” You laugh, but with some confidence and you push the exit door open, stepping into the rain and looking back waiting for Jungkook to follow. The rain hitting you and icy cold hug it made you gasp. 

Jungkook laughed too, the sound brightening the dreary weather. Without a second thought, he dashed out into the rain after you, grabbing your hand as you both braved the elements. The rain was relentless, and you quickly found yourselves sprinting up the street toward the nearest subway station.

The air was crisp, and the rain felt like little stinging needles against your skin. “Definitely an unexpected twist for a first date.” You called to him, the sound of the rain was deafening. 

“What do you mean? Running in the rain? It’s a totally rom com cliché.” Jungkook calling back to your love for romance movies. 

The both of you kept moving but began to shiver a bit. The only heat between the both of you coming from your hands wrapped in each other. 

The both of you could see the station just up ahead. The both of you trying to keep a quick pace so you could get in and catch the train. You and Jungkook and you spotting a puddle you both try to gracefully jump over, but the slickness of the ground betraying Jungkook. He slips a little and almost takes you with him. laughter spilled from your lips, mixing with the sound of rain splashing against the pavement. It was pure chaos, but it felt exhilarating. Jungkook’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he glanced at you, and for a moment, all the worries of the world faded away.

“An interesting way to close out the date.” You try wiping away some water from your face but it was useless at this point. “My outfit is definitely ruined.”

“I don’t know, I think the wet look is in.” his hair was sticking to the side of his face an forehead, he was clearly shivering but was still managing to have a boyish grin on his face. As you both reached the subway entrance, you paused, leaning against the wall, your laughter dying down into soft giggles. The rain still poured down around you, but it felt different now—intimate, almost magical. Jungkook’s eyes were bright, his expression softening as he looked at you.

For a moment, everything else faded away. The world around you blurred, and it felt like it was just the two of you in that cocoon of raindrops and laughter. Despite the biting chill of the rain soaking through your clothes, a warmth blossomed within you, igniting a spark that felt impossibly bright. Your heart pounded in your ears, drowning out everything else.

Jungkook stepped closer, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. You felt your own gaze drawn to his, mesmerized by the way his pink lips glistened in the dim light, kissed by the rain. He looked so cute, his expression a mix of surprise and delight. Before you could think about it, you closed the distance and pressed your lips to his.

Initially, Jungkook seemed taken aback, but the moment was electric, and he quickly melted into the kiss. What had started as a tentative peck transformed into something more quickly. He responded with surprising warmth, his hand gently cradling your cheek as he kissed you again, pulling you closer as if he wanted to shield you from the cold.

That kiss was sweet and tender, a balm against the rain. The warmth spread through you, wrapping around your heart like a cozy blanket. 

When you finally pulled away, breathless, your cheeks flushed from both the cold and the moment. Jungkook’s eyes sparkled with a mix of surprise and happiness, a wide grin breaking across his face. 

“I’m pretty sure kissing in the rain is the biggest cliché of them all.” Jungkook broke the tension in the air and is made you roll your eyes, you taking his hand again and pulling him into the station.

You both managed to make it to your train in time. You weren’t sure if Jungkook also lived this direction but he was coming with you nonetheless. The two of you were leaving puddles behind the both of you everywhere you went. 

When you got off at the right station you realized how hungry you actually were now. Starving in fact, you and Jungkook had so wrapped up in the aquarium food was the last thing on your mind, “Are you hungry?”

“Really hungry actually.” Jungkook was now realizing he was beginning to fade away with the lack of food. 

“You want to get something to eat?”

The two of you found the closest place you could find to eat nearby and there was a crowded restaurant. The two of you managed to get a table really easily and settled it. You both got a series of weird looks at the state the two of you were in, but the two of you didn’t really care. 

As you excused yourself to the bathroom, your heart was still racing from the high of the day. You needed a moment away from the intensity, a breath of space to gather your thoughts. The date had been so easy, so natural. Nothing like what you’d imagined when you first got involved in this whole thing. But you couldn’t let yourself get lost in the fantasy.

Once inside the bathroom, you didn’t even bother to check the mirror. You pulled out your phone, pacing frantically as you called Ronnie and Jin, knowing they’d be waiting for an update.

“Guys,” you blurted out, your voice low but panicked, “I can’t go through with this. I swear he’s just… a regular guy. This isn’t what we thought!”

There was a pause before Jin’s voice came through loud and clear. “Bad writer!” he scolded you. “Do not waver now. He’s playing you, just like we suspected.”

“I’m telling you, Jin, it feels real. The way he’s acting… he’s not some player. This all feels too genuine.” You caught your reflection in the mirror and grimaced, frustrated with yourself for even saying it out loud.

Ronnie chimed in, clearly less invested in your emotional rollercoaster, but supportive nonetheless. “Sounds too good to be true if you ask me. Stay strong, Y/N. This guy’s probably a master at making things feel real. That’s what they do. You’ve got this.”

You sighed, adjusting your hair with your free hand as you continued pacing. “You guys aren’t here with me! You didn’t see him today—he’s been amazing. It’s not like other dates where it’s all surface-level stuff. We were wrong.”

“I’m never wrong,” Jin insisted with that trademark smugness of his. “Trust me, his true colors will show soon. Stick to the plan.”

With some more arguments. They forced you to not give up and continue, Jin convinced he is still correct about Jungkook. 

He didn’t see him today though. 

You rejoined Jungkook back at your booth and you were sitting right next to each other. Jungkook was typing on his phone, which managed to survive the downpour. You were also surprised that your phone somehow managed to survive it. Right not though, Jin and Ronnie were completely blowing it up with messages following your call. 

“What is it?” Jungkook’s curiosity getting the better of him, glancing to your phone briefly but then looking away. 

You shake your head, “Nothing my friends were just worried about me because I wasn’t responding. They thought you might have murdered me or something.” A lie but it would disarm his curiosity.

“How do they know you haven’t killed me?” Jungkook joked, and you smiled. 

You shrug and set you phone down on the table. “Nights still young. That could very well happen.” 

“Fun.” Jungkook laughed at your obvious sarcasm. “I’ll be right back.” 

Jungkook placed his phone down next to yours and excused himself away. Probably to go to the bathroom. You felt a warm glow in your chest just from the day. Everything was so nice and so fun, and easy. Jungkook was not what you were expecting, he probably wasn’t what your friends thought either. 

It would be just your luck to accidentally pick a really great guy. 

Or so you hoped. 

At that moment a buzz came from the table and you thought it came from your phone since Jin and Ronnie were blowing up your phone with reminders to stick to the plan. You glanced down and in an instant you wish you hadn’t. You really wished you hadn’t. Because the text did not come from your phone, it came from Jungkook's phone. 

It wasn’t a text from just a friend either. 

You looked away as fast as you saw it but it immediately brought you back to reality. 

Hey baby, are you free tonight? I really want to do that thing again…

You really wished you hadn’t looked. You didn’t even register the name because you flipped Jungkook's phone over. For a moment, everything inside you froze. It felt like someone had just yanked you out of a dream, dropping you back into reality with a crash. The words, the suggestive tone—it wasn’t just a friendly text. This was someone else, someone calling him “baby,” someone who clearly thought they had plans with him tonight.

Because this is who he was, and why you set all those rules.

Of course Jungkook was texting another girl. Because that is the guy he is. He could be dreamy all day long but this was his nature. Not whatever façade he put on for your benefit today. For a second, your mind spun with questions: Who was she? What did they do? But no matter how many answers you wanted, one fact remained: this perfect day wasn’t as perfect as it seemed.

Your waitress brought over the drinks you two had ordered. You sipped it so you could give your hands something to do. The disappointment swirled in your stomach for a moment before you pulled yourself together. 

You were here for your own reasons. 

That texted just proved why you picked Jungkook in the first place. He is a playboy, and you had a goal. Day one, twenty-nine more to go. 

You spotted Jungkook returning to the table and he had a big smile on his face. You put back on a big smile yourself. Acting as if nothing had changed and nothing was different. You took a quick moment to send a quick text to Ronnie and Jin. 

:Nevermind. You guys were right. I can do this. 

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[lvis44]

Senna or Superman // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warnings: Language, Angst, Talk of this seasons difficulties, Suggestive dialogue, (Felipe Massa jump scare mention), Not Edited

Word Count: 4.3k+

Summary: Brazil 2024 was unforgiving, but amidst it all some greatness can still be achieved.

Notes: Hey y'all, like I said, I was feeling like typing and needed to work on something different for a second and I think I can speak for all of us that today had me feeling all of the emotions. There's definitely some angst in here but a lot of it is just absolute fluff and reader being an absolute Stan of her boyfriend, bc who wouldn't be if they were dating Lewis Hamilton, lets be real. Also, I've said it once I will say it again, I cannot follow a tense to save my life to ignore that. Kisses xxxx!!!

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

You hadn’t gotten much sleep and you were feeling it as you sat in the back of the Mercedes garage. Lewis had been hyper and full of anxious energy when he returned to the hotel last night. He had spent most of the previous day bobbing around the paddock like an energetic child, complaining about the delay in qualifying and trying to convince anyone that would listen to him that they should be sent out to try and put a lap together. He’s in Brazil, he wants to put on a show, but he’d been forced to wait much to his dismay and that had left you having to deal with him. He had been hyper after being so ready to go but never getting the release from his adrenaline and also annoyed that the sport had changed so much, yapping on about how when he first got to F1 they would have sent them out and that danger and adrenaline is a key part of the sport. You tried incessantly to get him to chill but you really had to just let him wear himself out, much like an actual child. It wasn’t until later in the evening, laying against his chest after finally convincing him to try to get some sleep, that you really got the answer to his emotions.

~

“I’m so excited and honored that I’m driving the MP4 tomorrow, but I’m also nervous. I was so prepared to do it today but having to wait, delaying the gratification, it’s really getting to me.” Lewis whispered into the comfortable silence, surprising you with the unprompted admission.

“It’s even more iconic to do it on race day.” You told him softly, rubbing your hand against his warm chest hoping to lighten the weight of whatever way playing in his mind.

He just hummed in response, evidently deep in his thoughts, his arm tightening around you ever so slightly.

“It’s understandable that you’re nervous Lew, you’re driving a piece of history, not just history to the sport but to your own personal journey and career. You’ve been asked to drive your idols car, the man is the reason you found your calling. Superman or Senna, right?” You kept your voice quiet, realizing that he needed to talk this through a bit more but not wanting to disrupt the peace that had settled around the two of you.

He smiled down at you as he heard the last part of your statement, chuckling lightly,  “Superman or Senna, yes indeed.” He trailed off for a moment, the soft smile lingering on his lips as he stared at the ceiling, almost as if reminiscing over those years when those were his two goals in life, back as a young boy in Stevenage. “What’s kinda funny is that it’s not that I’m really nervous about driving the car itself, like I feel confident in that part, I feel like I’m more than capable. It’s that I’m nervous that I don’t deserve this or something, this is a big deal and I would never want anyone to regret this decision or something. I honestly don’t even really know, like I don’t know why they would regret it I just, I don’t know. Just not really sure I’m worthy of this.” He finished his rant, letting out a deep sigh.

Hearing his thoughts caused you to sit up, no longer caring if you broke the peace in the room. You stared directly at him, eyes locked with his that were evidently startled at your abrupt departure from your cuddle.

“Lewis, I need you to listen to me. They chose you, Senna's family specifically chose you and asked you.” You started, poking him in the chest for emphasis before putting the same finger over his lips to shush him when he tried to argue. “They could have asked any of the other drivers on the grid, they could have asked a retired driver, they could honestly have asked whoever the hell they wanted, but no they asked for you. Not the current reigning champion, not the owner of the car, not even a Mclaren driver. They asked you, not only because they recognize your talent but because they see him in you. They see the love and respect that the people of Brazil have for you and they see you return that tenfold. This beautiful country made you a citizen for a reason, they see you carry that flag with the same pride as your own. Lew even Felipe Massa said that you deserve to be the one to drive that car and isn’t he like literally suing you right now?”

You finally let out a huff before the both of you erupt in a fit of giggles, Lewis forcefully pulling you back down to him to wrap you tightly in his arms. 

“I didn’t know he said that, honestly rather shocking because yeah, pretty sure he is. But ya know, I heard he’s running out of money.” His lips hold a smirk as he looks down at you before you’re both consumed by another fit of giggles. “Thank you,” He whispers once you’ve both calmed down, his lips against your forehead, “I needed to hear that. You know I get too much in my own head sometimes. Still have a hard time believing that all of this is real after everything I’ve been through, where I came from, ya know?”

“I do,” You say, tilting your head up to press a soft kiss to his lips, “you’re allowed to still revel in it, even after all this time. It truly is mental, even if it’s been this way for a while now. And by the way, I’m pretty sure the only reason they would ever regret letting you drive that car is if you crash it into a wall and break it, so just don’t do that and I’m pretty sure everything will be just fine.” You giggle, giving him another kiss.

“Well damn woman, no pressure or anything.” He fakes offence before splitting into a grin with you.

“Hey,” you say, your voice softer again, “I know I’m biassed and all, but know that I can’t think of anyone more deserving of this honor and I am so incredibly proud of you. I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold back the tears when I see you in that Mclaren tomorrow. You are an incredibly blessed man but you do not take it for granted and I am honoured that I get to see how incredible you are every single day, as a driver, as a partner, but most importantly as a human. Let yourself enjoy this Lew, you deserve it and I will be there watching in awe.”

“I love you so so much.” He says, his voice thick with emotion as he pulls you impossibly closer to him.

“I love you too,” You tell him softly, placing a kiss on his chest where he has squished your face into him, “now get some sleep, you have to be up in a few hours for that stupid early morning quali.”

~

Lewis had left early in the morning, sneaking out of bed around 3:30 to get ready. Only waking you accidentally when he placed a soft kiss on your forehead as he was leaving. He was apologetic, telling you to go back to sleep and that he would see you at the track. Not that you were able to get much more sleep, needing to get up and get ready yourself if you wanted any chance of making it there on time. When you had finally arrived to the garage, you made sure to perch yourself in the back, trying to stay out of the way of all the busy people rushing around you.You only got to see Lewis for a brief moment, only having enough time to give him a quick kiss and send him off with a final good luck encouragement. It was pointless though, you both knew the car wasn’t going to perform to Lewis’ liking. If anything it had somehow gotten worse for this weekend. 

As you sat in the garage watching on you couldn’t help but cringe. Lewis was battling with the car, not even making it out of Q1. You knew his mood wouldn’t be amazing when he finally made his way back to you after going to be weighed and speak to the media. You watched the next session, baffled by the sheer chaos unfolding and you couldn’t help but pray that the race would end up being better. The grid was out of position and red flags were being thrown left and right. You let out a sigh when you saw your man finally enter the garage, his helmet still on. He stopped momentarily to speak with some of his engineers, shaking peoples hands and thanking them for their hard work. He finally locked onto you, gesturing for you to follow him as he made his way to his drivers room. When you walked in behind him you could see how heavy his shoulders were. His helmet had been discarded on the bench beside him but he still hadn’t turned around.

“Hey, we knew it was gonna be shit, right?” You said quietly, putting your hand on his damp back.

“Yeah, we did. I’m just so ready for this season to be over.” He finally said, letting out a deep breath as he turned to face you.

“We’re so close babe, so so close. And for now we get to take a little time away from this devil of a car.” You told him, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands found your waist. Not caring one bit that he was soggy from the rain and the sweat, just content to be with your guy.

“Still got a race to do hun.” He reminded you, kissing his teeth.

“Oh I know, but let’s not think about that right now. I was talking about you getting behind the wheel of a Mclaren MP4 for a little while instead.” You smirk, leaning up towards his now smiling face.

“A proper race car.” He says, his smile threatening to split his face.

This is what you wanted, you wanted him to revel in the joy, revel in the honor of driving such an incredible car. Enjoy being behind the wheel of a Championship winning car once again even if it was only for a few laps and unlike the cars he was used to winning in. 

“A legacy meant for a hometown hero to carry on, and a race car meant for a World Champion. It’s been waiting for another great to stretch its legs and they found just the right Brazilian for the job.” You whispered to him, your faces incredibly close now. 

“If you keep talking like that I might end up locking you in here.” His voice is teasing as he wraps his arms around you.

“As much as I desperately want to say yes to that, I do believe you have something to get ready for.” You sigh, pulling back and patting his chest.

“I do, but we’ll use it for motivation later, I might need it.” He says as he peels himself off of you, his voice is playful but you both know he’s dead serious.

“The second we leave this track, I am all yours for as long as you want or need.” You promise, watching as he starts to change and prepare to go meet the Mclaren mechanics that have been looking after the historical car.

You sit in a comfortable peace for a while, occasionally exchanging words about little things that don’t really matter that much, just enjoying being in his space. You know that when the day is over you will have a full debrief, all of the frustration that he’s setting aside for this moment will inevitably bubble up once he’s in the safe privacy of the two of you alone, but for now you entertain his small talk and let him start to get excited about his incredible moment as he gets himself ready. When he’s ready he turns to  you with childlike excitement bubbling at the surface and you can feel your heart swell.

“This is a good look for you.” You tell him, eyeing the all white suit with the Brazilian flag at his waist.

“I’m still mad I can’t wear his actual helmet.” Lewis grumbles with a shake of his head.

“I hate to say, I actually agree with them on that one babe, let’s keep your head safe, yeah?” You laugh.

“I know I know, don’t think it would even fit on my head anyway.” He playfully groans, making his way over to you.

“I like the special helmet for this weekend though, it’s still a tribute.” You remind him, knowing he’s half joking but wanting him to be fully confident when he steps out.

He nods, taking a moment to admire you before he’s pulling you close and landing his lips on yours in a kiss that takes you by surprise with its force.

“Thank you, for everything,” He starts when he finally pulls away, his forehead resting on yours, “for reminding me that I’m allowed to revel in this, for keeping me grounded,for letting me be excited, just for everything.”

“Hey, that’s why I’m here. You do the exact same for me when I need it, it’s why we work so well.” You say quietly, your hand coming to stroke his beard gently.

“If I don’t get to see you before I get in the car, just know your words from last night are gonna be in my head the entire time. I’m gonna let myself enjoy this, let myself feel this. Nothing else about today matters other than honouring and paying tribute to my childhood hero and getting to live out my childhood dreams of driving the car that made me want to start racing around the circuit that introduced me to another home.” His voice holds excitement and certainty as he speaks that makes you want to cry and kiss him all at once.

You’ve never been quite so proud of the man in front of you. Yes, you’ve cheered for him since the beginning, before you even met him. You’ve wept when he’s broken records and won each and every championship. Yet nothing quite compares to seeing this amazing moment and knowing just how much he deserves it, knowing that there is no one better to hold this responsibility and honor. There is no one like Aryton Senna and truly there never will be, and there is no one like Lewis Hamilton and there truly never will be. 

“You know you’re doing for millions what he did for you, right?” You whisper, hoping he knows just the level of inspiration he gives to everyone watching him, young and old alike.

“I know, and it’s amazing to be able to do that.” He says, his smile warm.

You don’t say another word, giving him a long kiss, feeling connected to him in a way you both need in the moment, albeit for much different reasons. You are pouring every ounce of pride and amazement into the kiss, hoping he can feel it, while he is absorbing the love and reassurance that comes with your touch, letting himself feel his greatness and humble himself all at once. Finally there is a knock at the door, signalling that he really needs to get going, causing you to part from each other reluctantly. 

“Okay, I gotta go do the most amazing thing of my entire career.” He says with a smile, “Be here when I get back?”

“I can’t promise I won’t be sobbing out near the pit wall but I will definitely find you, promise.” You laugh, giving him one last kiss before he grabs his helmet and makes his way over to the media garage where the incredible car is being stored for him.

It takes you a little while to get out to the pit lane that is already lined with people. You wish you could be closer, see the car up close but this isn’t your moment. Today is for Senna's family and the people of Brazil, you are just lucky enough to be able to witness the incredible moment in person.You know Lewis is somewhere down the pitlane, most likely trying to stay calm as he geeks out over the amazing machine he is about to drive. He has driven one of Senna’s cars before, but not in a long time, and not in this setting, not with this honor and audience. You also know that no matter how many times he may have had the privilege of being around and driving incredible race cars, he is a racing driver through and through and the excitement will never change. While you’re standing there smiling to yourself, thinking about how excited Lewis must be and taking in the incredible aura of the crowd, you catch sight of the live stream playing on the jumbotron. There he is, getting in his idols car, you watch as he takes a moment to really take it in just before he’s being strapped in. It’s funny to you to see him surrounded by Mclaren mechanics again, to see the goodyear tires you remember from your first ever F1 races. Then they’re rolling him out and the crowd gets their first in person glimpse of the car over the wall and the cheers echo through your soul. It takes a few more minutes for them to be ready and the atmosphere is building with anticipation but then they start the engine. The first rumble sends a chill down your spine and silences the track. The sound of the V10 roaring to life evoked a visceral feeling from you, bringing back memories of why you fell in love with the sport as a child in the first place and you could only imagine what the emotions coursing through Lewis in that moment were. You saw him shake his head in disbelief as he revved the engine and you could just picture the boyish grin that would be covering his face at that moment. Then it cut, he stalled, and you heard the boos and wanted to run and protect him. You knew it wasn’t his fault, and realistically you knew the crowd wasn’t booing him, they were booing the disruption of the soundtrack that was the incredible V10 engine and you also knew Lewis was smart enough to know that as well. The mechanics were quick, getting the engine back up rapidly and soon enough Lewis was headed out toward the track. He took a moment, the mechanics meeting him again and you prayed that everything would go to plan, this moment was too important to everyone for anything not to be perfect. And then you saw him, speeding past you in Senna’s Mclaren down the pit straight. The spray of water adding to the moment as he waved at the fans who were evidently stunned at the spectacle in front of them. Their recently adopted hero bringing them back to a moment with their lifelong hero. You couldn’t hold back your tears as you watched him complete lap after flawless lap, handling the car like he’d been driving it for years. You could only imagine what the emotions flowing through his body must be, so incredibly grateful to be able to witness the moment. When you saw him stop to grab the flag your tears picked up, watching the beauty of the moment as he completed his dream of waving his new country's flag as he drove his idol's car with no hands around the wet track. Everything about the moment was pure poetry. 

By the time he parked the car on the grid, you were sure there wasn’t a dry eye in the entirety of Sao Paulo. You watched through teary eyes as Viviane went and spoke to him as he collected himself in the cockpit. You could see her thanking him and you knew that he was thanking her just as profusely. You tried to dry your eyes as you watched them pose with Senna's helmet while Lewis sat in the car, but they came back quickly. You finally managed to pull yourself together just a little bit as you watched him pose with flag but the second he knelt down next to the car as if to thank it for everything it had done for him and his idol, you lost it again, You couldn’t help but laugh at yourself just a bit, your emotions were definitely getting the best of you. You could see the emotion on Lewis’ face as he too pulled himself together to get ready for the interview. He was beaming, eternally grateful for the opportunity. You listened as he described his love for Brazil and the love he has received from the fans, you could hear the emotion thick in his voice the entire time, even through the incredible joy that was paired with it. You knew he meant it when he said it was the ‘honor of his career’ and you were certain this would be a moment that neither of you ever forgot. Everything about it was purely beautiful, seeing everyone pause for something so meaningful, you weren’t sure you had ever seen the sport so at one in your entire life.

When you saw him finally making his way to the pit lane you scramble to try to pull yourself together, hoping to be somewhat emotionally sound when you went to meet him in his drivers room, but he found you first, a strong arm slinking around your waist before you were being crushed in a tight hug. When he finally let you go you took a moment to take him in. The emotions were written all over his face, the weight of the profound moment sinking in for him as the joy was palpable. He took in your state, his eyes softening, knowing that every emotion on your face came from your love for him and your love for the sport.

“C’mon, lets go be alone for a second.” He said softly, guiding you toward the garage.

When you were safely inside his drivers room you turned to him, your words dying on your tongue as they didn’t feel enough to express just how proud of him you were. Instead you opted to grasp his face in your hands and kiss him, hard, tears falling down your cheeks as you did. When you finally parted from him you saw that the smile had never left his face.

“I think you’re more emotional about that entire thing than I am.” He teased you softly, wiping a stray tear from your cheek.

“Stop it,” You laughed, swatting at him pathetically, “I’m just so proud of you and so happy for you. I can only imagine what that meant to you.”

“Yeah, it was surreal, never had so many emotions at once. It felt incredible, it truly felt like a dream come true.” He said as he placed his hands on your waist, pulling you toward him.

“I was right you know, there was no one more suited for that than you.” You tell him softly.

“You were absolutely right, that felt perfect, Viviane was so kind and so grateful, I will never forget this.” He sighs and you can tell the weight of the weekend is leaving his body with it.

“Nothing else that happens this weekend matters, okay? This was what it was all for.” You assure him, placing your hand on the side of his neck.

“Thank you, you’re right, that was truly the only reason I am here this weekend, none of the rest matters in the slightest.” His eyes are soft as he melts into your touch.

“I know you said you wanted to be Senna or Superman but I think you may have achieved both just now. You are more than a hero to just about everyone here, me included.” You tell him softly, staring deep into his eyes as you do.

“That means a lot, I felt it while I was out there. It was a crazy feeling, getting to be that for everyone.” He says earnestly.

“You do it way more frequently than you think, even if you haven’t been feeling it lately.” You assure him, wanting him to know just how much you mean it.

He doesn’t respond but you can tell he’s just taking it in as he lets out a breath and traces circles on your hip. He’s a confident man, cocky at times, but even the strongest of soldiers can be weak in the face of defeat.

“I know you are a natural born competitor, but let's make a deal that your only objective today is just to come back to me in one piece. That’s all I ask of you.” You say after a moment, listening to the rain pickup against the roof.

“I will absolutely come back to you, but I ain’t making any promise about not also trying to pull that tractor as far forward as I can.” He laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Okay fair enough, just need you in tiptop shape to be my superman when we get back to the hotel tonight.” You smirk, pinching his bicep.

“Well when you put it like that why don’t we just leave on a high note and head back right now?” He asks playfully, pulling you closer to him.

“I’m down, but you’ve gotta go keep being both Senna and Superman.” You giggle.

“Okay, I’ll do my best, but I’m still holding you to that even if this race is shit.” He says, pinching your bum.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

[savannahsdeath]

haiiiiii, this is my first time requesting 😖😖😖😖😖 what ab boxer ellie and boxer reader fucking ts out of each other 😖😖😖😖😖

BOXER!ELLIE WILLIAMS X BOXER!READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! just.. smut

writers note: im so proud you trusted me with your first request??!!?!! omg also idk im no boxer so.. but i tried !! also this is some short drabble or whatever buut im posting it anyway because.. yes

you always admired ellie at the gym, what usually made your workout session worthless. you were a boxer, just like her. you knew every punch or kick you saw her do, it wasn't anything new nor special. yet, the way she did them brought your attention. her movements were fluid, quick, and precise. there was no hesitation or wasted energy. everything was a perfectly timed, deliberate attack. the way she moved was like liquid, weaving through the air with ease. she was art in motion, each strike a beautifully crafted, deadly dance.

and then, she saw you looking at her. her determinated expression got replaced by the playful smirk that made you lose your mind.

"hey!" she chuckled. "anything interesting?"

her green shirt was clinging to her body, exposing every curve and muscle. it was difficult not to keep staring at her.

you tried to compose yourself, to play it cool and not let her get to you. "just watching you, and thinking about all the ways i could beat you." you gave her a cheeky grin, and raised your eyebrow to let her know you're not one to be messed with.

she laughed and approached you. "care to show me on a practice session later?" she asked playfully.

"of course!" you smiled back at her, your heart racing as her body draws nearer to yours with each step. still, you played along, pretending to be confident and totally-not-impressed. "who knows, maybe i can show you a thing or two that you haven't seen before." you added with a smirk on your own face.

as she got close, you could feel the heat from her body and see how her shirt clings to her curves like second skin. your face flushed with blood and you had to look away, unable to keep a steady gaze as she drew your eyes back to her with that inviting smirk.

that's how you ended up between her legs, showing her 'a thing or two she haven't seen before'. your tongue dipped inside her cunt, collecting everything in your mouth. then, you moved to lick her folds sleek, carefully moving up and down, stopping at her clit to suck on it. she was trying her best to stay quiet and keep her 'unbothered' facade, but you thought it's useless after she failed once. oh, how oblivious she was to the fact that you could feel how her hips moved closer to your face.

"are we- fuck, do we practice the same boxing?" she mumbled, trying to sit up and look at you but ending up squirming even more.

the air, disturbed by the vibration of your laugh, hit her inner thighs. she squeezed them around your head, but your hands quickly parted them back to their previous position.

"i don't know about you, but that's what i practiced." you replaced your tongue with your fingers, rubbing her clit while you pulled away and sat up, letting her see you. "is that something... new for you?"

she whined and moaned out a; 'fuck you', before regaining her composure and adding a more confident; "i can do just as much."

not long after that, your places swapped. you admired how full of energy she was, even though she struggled to speak not long ago.

"what happened to the 'no fucking before an important fight'?" you taunted - your breathless state wasn't enough to stop you from teasing her.

after that, she pushed two of her fingers into your puffy cunt. you gasped as your ability to speak went missing, your cheeks shining with not even bright red as an uncontrollable groan in form of her name escaped your mouth.

"i was just about to ask you 'what happened to you stuttering and blushing everytime you talk to me?'" she made a dramatic pause, letting her fingers pump in and out of you, closely watching your reaction to every move so she would figure out where your sensitive spot was. it took her about two times, or more but really fast ones, your sense of time got ruined and you weren't sure. "but there you are."

[svmjaeyvn]

love maze, s.jy.

chapter four pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: tbd (series)

masterlist

add yourself to the taglist here!

genre: college!au, mutual friends, fake dating, smut.

synopsis: an unfortunate encounter, drunken mistakes, and a sort of (definitely) stalker leads jake sim ‘dating’ his best friend’s childhood crush.

or, your life gets intertwined with a rich boy’s in attempt to not get sued by his crazy personal fangirl and like with all good cliches, sex overcomplicates things.

contents: smut, sort of strangers to fuck buddies to lovers pipeline, childhood best friend!jay, mentions of best friend! yunjin, curly haired & mixed reader, uni!au, rich nepo baby!jake, enha frat boys, lots of kissing, fake dating turning into fwb real quick, totally way too into it for it to be fake early on, big booty reader that’s jake’s obsessed with, partying and alcohol use, slight violence, he fell first and harder trope, stem bf & writer gf, (kinda overly) possessive jake, some angst to spice things up, daddy issues, hyper independent reader who struggles with her feelings, fluff and happy ending!!

a/n: hello~ i’ve never been a tumblr girly but i have went through my w*ttpad era back in 2018 so bare with me y’all. this will be a series but not that long (i hope) so pls look forward to it. warning tags will be placed before each “chapter” to specify what to expect. pls pls reblog and interact, i’d love to have feedback and see what your thoughts are. okay! yay, for now enjoy and thank you sm :D

MDNI, 18+

tap below to continue

CHAPTER FOUR: FIRSTS

previous masterlist next

word count: 2.9k

warnings: alcohol, partying(what’s new), hints of needy jake, reader being a tease, established desire, highly suggestive themes

a/n: YEAHHH GET INTO IT moving it along now

"I GO HOME for three days and you suddenly have a new life?" Yunjin gapes, hands on her hips as you had just finished explaining the whole story in what happened between you and Jake. From the beginning of the creep at the store, which she was throughly upset that you didn't call her considering she didn't even get laid that night, to the agreement the two of you came up with yesterday.

You were in the process of getting ready, Jake having texted you earlier in the day asking if you were free. After talking over everything, coming up with a story down to the smallest details, and finding a middle ground in how this would work, Jake suggested at least once a week you two would go on a 'date.' In reality it was just hanging out, time to get to know each other better and have the ability to be comfortable with how you'd act in public from then on.

"Apparently," You snort, swiping one last application of lip gloss onto your lips. Puckering them before letting out a small sigh, decidedly put in enough effort for the mock date. "Good?"

Yunjin glances over your outfit. The denim jeans sat nicely on your hips, low rise exposing a good portion of your stomach along with the white baby tee, a brown oversized jacket on top with white shoes to compliment. The outfit was casual but cute enough to show some effort, showing off enough skin that emphasized your curves but also comfortable.

"You're hot," She nods, a wink added to the effect. Watching as you bent over to retie your shoe lace, a loud gasp left Yunjin's lips before her laughter filled the air. "You're trying to get laid aren't you!" Pointing toward the thin string-like material that poked out as you bent due to the low waistband of the pants, the brown thong you wore was exposed and something you didn't particularly wear without good reason.

Quickly standing up straight, a sheepish smile made way onto your lips, shrugging slightly. "Maybe, mind as well have fun with this, right?"

"Sure, fucking your already fake boyfriend sounds like a great idea that won't lead to any problems," Yunjin nods, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You smile, turning back around just as your phone pings. "Glad we agree," You nod, collecting your things as Jake was now waiting outside for you to head down, Yunjin rolling her eyes as she bids you goodbye with a playful slap to your ass as you walked past.

"Text me how it goes!"

JAKE HAD A hard time focusing. Maybe it was the colorful lights that blinked in every direction, or the loud buzz of other people who played along the rows and rows of arcade games, or maybe it was the fact that he got the perfect view of your ass in those tiny little jeans every time you remotely leaned over. He thought he was imagining things the first time you bent over, trying to convince himself that you hadn't been bold enough to wear a thin g-string in those already low pants that exposed the definition of your waist and the two dimples on your lower back.

Surely it wasn't planned, wearing a thin little thong under tight pants that left little to the imagination with how utterly perfectly perky your ass seemed squeezed in them. But it was, definitely was because although he hasn't worn one himself, he assumed having a string up your ass all day wasn't something you willingly did, knowing well enough it was for the view not your comfort.

It took everything in him to tear his eyes away every time you glanced back, though his continued slip ups caused you to grow rather amused. Feeling how his eyes practically bore into your back, you began to have fun with it. Whether it consisted of teasing him with the sway of your hips as you walked or ensuring to wiggle around more than usual when you bent over to place the tokens in the slots of the machines.

The current game the two of you played consisted of basketball, playing on the two player option to go against one another, rushing to beat the others score of how many baskets made in the 90 second period. Jake finished before you, having started a few seconds prior and he smiled seeing the 72 on his scoreboard while yours was slowly trickling up from a mere 48.

Just as he was about to comment on his obvious win, he took note of the two who lingered off the side, seemingly waiting for their turn at the game. Presumably within your age range, the two men stood patiently, one occupied by his phone but the other had his eyes set on you in specific.

From the way his eyes traveled up your body, slow without a care for how bluntly obvious it was to see him checking you out, Jake felt oddly in disbelief at how shameless his actions were. The loud buzz indicated the end of your round, the score finalized at a 54 as you turned around with a small huff.

"Cheater," You tut, your competitive nature beginning to show its colors as you turn to Jake who was now a mere few inches apart.

Quirking a brow, he points to his scoreboard, the big 72 in bold letters along with WINNER flashing after it. "Face it baby, I'm just better,"

You blink, slightly surprised by the sudden pet name while Jake leans in suspiciously closer than before. One of his arms snaked behind your waist, hand resting low on your back and the heat of his fingers against your exposed skin caused a chill to run up your spine.

"Don't be cocky, you're just taller so it's easier for you," You defend with a roll of your eyes, turning away from his gaze that made you want to squirm away. You could feel the sudden shift in his demeanor, one that you wanted to see but it also made you nervous.

Without a word, Jake shamelessly leaned closer. His lips pressed to the corner of your mouth, lingering there for a moment just missing your lips before he pulls away, moving to whisper in your ear. "Your little outfits catching eyes sweetheart,"

He had a smile on his features, a seemingly fond look thrown your way but you could see the hint of something other by his eyes. Glancing around for a moment, attempting to confirm what he was referencing, it wasn't until your turned your head momentarily did you see. From the corner of your eye, you could see the two who stood still waiting, one in particular unable to take his eyes off you no matter how shameless he seemed.

"Is that a problem?" You counter, voice just as quiet as his as you peer back to Jake. This time, the smirk that fell upon his features definitely wasn't in good nature, feeling as his hand slightly squeezed your hip at the words.

"Not at all, I have a hot girlfriend," Jake shrugs, his amusement dripping through his words. "As long as I'm the only one that gets to touch you, they can look all they want,"

Finding yourself at a loss for words, you shake your head at his comment. Breaking the tension that began to linger through the air, you loop your arm around his own and begin to lead the way towards another game in the opposite direction. Jake merely laughs, allowing for you to pull him along without comment.

"Didn't take you as the possessive type," Finally finding your voice as you pulled him along to a less busy area in the building, you stop at one of the claw machines.

"Didn't like the way he was looking at you," He shrugs, pulling two coins from his pocket and inserting them to begin the game. Now focused on the rather weird chick looking stuffed animal that sat at the top of the pile, Jake's tongue was poked out slightly at the corner of his mouth as he concentrated.

You watched, waiting for him to drop the claw before speaking. "Still possessive," You snicker, the stuffed animal being picked up for a few seconds before falling out of the metal grasp. Still, it fell significantly closer to the exit shoot and Jake began his second attempt that the coins bought him.

He merely hums back at your words, redoing his attempt and waiting patiently to watch as the claw picked up and dragged the chick toward the shoot, it falling down in success causing a small smile to fall upon his lips. Bending down to pull it out, Jake takes a glance over it before holding it out to you.

"Well, like it or not, you're mine for the next few months," He reminds. You half heartedly nod at his words, far too engrossed by your newest stuffed animal and picking off a piece of extra fluff around its eye. The baby chick looked rather awkward, far too round and compressed but it made you smile, happy with the weird looking stuffy that'll be added to the rest on your bed.

"I'm fake yours," You finally respond while he raises a brow.

Taking a note of how excited you got over a mediocre claw machine prize, Jake sighs at your words. "No one else knows that, so as far as I'm concerned, you're mine to make it known,"

You smile at his words, a sort of guilty pleasure in knowing just how much he intended to keep you by his side even if it were an unpleasant trait outside of anything fiction. With a small hum, you lace your fingers through his own, pulling him along.

"Careful Jake, someone might think you actually like me,"

                  "TRY NOT TO let her do a replay of last week, yeah?" Jay spoke rather loudly, leaned close to the couple after spotting them heading for the kitchen. You had been dragged along to the frat house after a call interrupted your date. Allegedly, Bianca had made an appearance to the party, running around making scenes in attempt to find where Jake was hiding out after avoiding her all week.

Heeseung had made it clear that he either needed to come home and kick her out himself, or he'd be throwing her in the pool if she came up to him again cockblocking the girl he was trying to talk up for the night. Thus Jake proposed your first real act in your relationship, something that you were slightly reluctant to but also couldn't pass up the opportunity of seeing Bianca lose her shit over you attached to his hip without room for her to do anything this time.

It didn't surprise you that there was yet another party going on at the house, the boys notorious for being the main party frat on campus. What did surprise you though, was the fact that Jake willingly chose to take you on a date rather than attend.

You rolled your eyes at Jay's comment, shoving his shoulder causing Jake to let out a laugh beside you. His arm was draped over your shoulders, keeping your body close to his own while his other hand sported a red solo cup, yet another jungle juice made by Sunghoon who knew what he was doing this time around. Meanwhile you held a spiked cup of pineapple juice and tequila, keeping the alcohol minimal and pacing yourself.

"Go away," You huff, shooing Jay away with the wave of your hand. Raising a brow, he takes a glance over the two of you momentarily.

"Don't be weird," Is all he says, the comment thrown to Jake who seemingly understood, shrugging halfheartedly but agreed with a nod. With a small sigh, Jay's hand reaches up to ruffle your hair and quick to pull away as you swatted the air. "Bye teeny, don't fight anyone!"

"He's annoying," You mumble, turning back to Jake who hummed in response.

"He cares," He says softly, taking a sip from his cup while you click your tongue.

"Yeah? Too much then," Glancing around, the dim lights that flashed throughout the house provided minimal visibility, mostly shadows of bodies rather than seeing faces. "How long is this public appearance supposed to last before I can head home?" Truthfully, the thought of your bed seemed ten times more appealing than the stuffy kitchen you stood in. Partially sure that you had seen a girl running by about to hurl, the sight solidified your belief of partying sporadically, it gets old fast every week in your opinion.

"You wanna go home?" Jake began to feel around for his keys but only to pause realizing the cup filled with a concoction of alcohols may have not been the best idea.

"Not now," You shake your head. "I can always call an uber later, or have Yunjin pick me up... or even stay with Jay I guess,"

“What, you don’t want to stay with your boyfriend?” Jake teases, leaning closer causing you to roll your eyes. Slightly pushing his face away with the palm of your hand, small giggles began to fall from both your lips and mixing together in a little world of your own that seemed far away from anyone else in the room. “I’m hurt, truly you should be wanting to spend the night with me.”

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” You hum. Pushing away the few out of place strands of hair that fell onto Jake’s forehead, his eyes glinted at the suggestive tone while his hands sat comfortably on your hips. Moving to your tippy toes, you leaned up to whisper directly in Jake’s ear, the words and your warm breath that fanned against his neck causing a shiver to run up his spine. “We wouldn’t be getting much sleep,”

“You know, I think I’m actually getting a little tired right now,” Jake says quickly, you pulling away enough to make eye contact, his pupils visibly dilated at the thoughts running through his head. “I think we should head up early, could be a good bonding experience,” The cheeky smile that played at his lips didn’t go unnoticed while he squeezed your hip, one of his hands trailing down dangerously low just above the curve of your ass, lingering there without any intention of moving back up.

“I don’t remember that being a part of the contract,” You tease while Jake shakes his head. Maybe it was the low lighting of the party, or maybe it was the more than obvious way he had been looking to you all night that made you so comfortable to entertain the thought. Well that and the fact that Jake was admittedly hot, you had always had the tiniest attraction towards him the few times you met in the past. Plus, there had to be some truth to the rumors that clouded his name, most girls deeming him as some of the best they ever had and you couldn’t help but want to figure it out for yourself.

“Exactly, that means there’s no rules against it, right?” Jake persists. No longer hiding his growing desperation, you were sure he’d kneel down and beg if you asked. “C’mon baby, it’s a good thing you know, for couples to be intimate n stuff,”

“I feel like I’m gonna have to keep reminding you that this is fake,” You snicker, seemingly nonchalant but you took a long sip from Jake’s cup, attempting for some liquid courage to calm your rapid heartbeat.

“We can be whatever you want us to be,” He agrees, hand cupping your face, tilting up your chin up as he placed a light lingering kiss to your bottom lip. “There’s a reason you wore those tight little pants and if not me, you’re out of luck in having someone else take them off cause of your rules,”

A small hum left your lips, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth which caused Jake to look away, finding something else to focus on to push away the thoughts of what your pretty mouth would look like around him instead. Immediately regretting it, your attention was caught by the string of curses that he mumbled under his breath.

Frowning your brows, your head turns to see the culprit of his sudden change in mood. Feeling the same sentiment as you see the faux blonde who looked more than annoyed when your eyes locked, you had to resist the urge to act childishly and flip her off.

Suddenly turning toward Jake, you grab hold of his hand. Raising a brow at your change in heart, he allows you to pull him toward the stairs. “If I would’ve known you had a possession thing too I would’ve said she got here way earlier,” He smiles, visibly pleased at the turn of events and switching to lead the way to his room.

“I’m proving a point,” You huff back while Jake lets out a laugh at your words. Following his lead with no hint of hesitation, you ensure to send a sickeningly sweet smile toward Bianca who seemed to be on the verge of losing her poise.

You had to admit, following Jake up to his room and seeing the look of envy from so many faces boosted your ego in more ways than one. This is gonna be a long night.

my tags!! @slutforsjy @jaklvbub @whowantshota @addictedtohobi

( pls make sure your settings make you applicable to tag)

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 20: FINAL

So guess what I realized this morning. Today, November 13, 2023 is the one year anniversary of me posting my first DPxDC fic to tumblr. It was the original fill for this very fic. (Which you can find here.)

So I decided I just had to finish this arc and get it posted. This year has been amazing and so much fun. I've become a much better writer and joined a community that has brought me so much joy. I'm glad to be here and I'm glad so many of you like to read what I'm sharing.

I noticed I got a few new readers over the past week or so, so welcome to all of you! Hope you enjoy this early update!

In personal news, my nephew was born and he's adorable and I'll be meeting him tomorrow! (As soon as I'm done posting this, I'm off to make food for his mom.)

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

Arc 1

Arc 2: Part 1, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

-----

In the end, it ended up taking several hours for Danny, Sam, and Tucker to escape their families and converge on the park. In that time, Tim had called Bruce to let him know he’d be back in Gotham by tomorrow and finished most of his homework.

While he worked, Wulf and Bart were having an animated conversation in Esperanto.

Tim was pretty sure Wulf would be bringing Bart to the Ghost Zone for a tour sometime and started making plans to learn Esperanto himself and bribe Bart to get in on them.

Cassie was helping Conner sort through some of the music Sam had given him. Tim was jealous as he solved more banal trig questions. Why did school have to be so boring? He tapped his pencil on the paper in time to the beat of whatever music Conner had playing.

Tucker was the first to arrive. “Danny and Sam not here yet?” he asked as he plopped down next to Bart and Wulf.

“Nope. Haven’t heard from them, either,” said Tim. He opened his phone notifications again just to be sure, but there was nothing new.

Tucker shrugged and pulled out a stick of jerkey to munch on. “Not surprising. The Fentons will be all overprotective after the mayor was kidnapped by a ghost on live TV. And Sam’s parents are just as bad. Only they smother rather than check the weaponry.” He turned to greet Wulf in Esperanto.

An email came through on Tim’s phone and he groaned. “Our evening interview was canceled. No one wants to hear us try to defend Phantom anymore.”

Cassie cursed. “Course not. Bet the paper won’t publish our editorials either.”

Conner looked over, confused. “Won’t they? Clark works for the Daily Planet. They publish stuff like that all the time.”

Tim didn’t look up from his math as he answered, “That’s the difference between a big, Pulitzer winning publication and a small-town op-ed.”

Tucker sighed. “Well maybe someone will remember your interviews from this morning in a positive light.”

Bart rolled his eyes. “Come on, we can’t change it. So let’s move forward. Next step, make friends with more ghosts! Wulf says there’s a bunch of cool people in the Realms.”

“Realms?” asked Tim.

“It’s what he says the Ghost Zone is actually called. The Infinite Realms.”

“Huh. I’ll have to check JL databases, see if they have any information on them.”

Tucker asked something in Esperanto and Bart burst out laughing as Wulf looked on in confusion.

With Bart’s help, though, he rephrased until Wulf was able to reply. And then the three kept to Esperanto. Tim really had to find time to learn it.

Sam was the next to arrive. She grinned and sat down next to Conner. “How you liking the music?”

Conner grinned and showed her the sheets where he ranked the bands so far based on which songs he’d listened to. She then took over the speakers and searched for specific tracks to try and change his mind about some of the bands he liked the least.

Tim let his eyes close as his friends’ voices washed over him.

After some indeterminate time where he dozed between sleeping and awareness, a foot nudged his hip. Tim grumbled out what was supposed to be a, “What?” but was too mumbled to really be understood.

“Come on, Secrets. You can do better than that.”

Tim cracked an eye open to see Danny grinning down at him. He pushed himself up slightly and blinked heavily in the sunlight.

“Finally got away from your parents?” asked Tim.

Danny collapsed on the ground next to him. “Ugh, don’t remind me. They’re freaking out over everything that’s happened the last few days. Jazz and I are basically going to be on lock down until they feel confident the ghosts are gone.”

“Did you have to sneak out to get here?” asked Cassie.

Danny shook his head. “No, I told them I was going to find you guys to make sure you were all safe. You’re welcome to come back to ours tonight, by the way. Mom and Dad basically insisted on it.”

“What do you guys think?” asked Tim. “Spend one more night here at Danny’s and head out in the morning?”

Cassie sighed. “My mom’s already freaking out that I’ve been gone longer than planned. I should get back tonight.”

“I’ll stay,” offered Conner. “I’m your ride home, anyway.”

“Why don’t you come to my place, Conner,” offered Sam. “Your nails need a fresh coat after fighting today. And I need teach you about the different brands of makeup and what to look for in terms of cost, quality, and ethicality. Plus I can get you more music.”

Tim laughed when Conner looked to him. “Go for it. Have fun.”

Conner grinned. “Then yeah, let’s do it!”

Bart shrugged. “Wulf is going to go back to the Realms soon. I’ll head out after. Wally and Linda want me over for a family dinner tonight.”

“Well, looks like that’s it, then,” sighed Danny. “Been fun having other heroes around.”

Tim nudged his shoulder. “Join the Young Justice. You could join us and we'd help out whenever you wanted. Get you around people who actually appreciate what you do for them.”

But Danny was already shaking his head. “I have to stay here. And now Amity trusts heroes even less. I want to improve that, not make it worse.”

“Even if you don’t join,” declared Conner. “You’re not getting rid of us now.”

Bart nodded his agreement. “Yep. We’re gonna be stopping by all the time. You’re in the group chat.”

“Exactly,” agreed Tim. “And we’ll figure out ways to help you. Starting with how to minimize property damage. That seems to be the big thing people focus on. You can make shields, right? How big can you make them and how much power do they take?”

Danny smiled wryly. “Can’t say I’ve really tested it.”

Tim laughed. “Well, I know one thing we’re doing tonight. We’re going to go back to Nasty Burger—” Tim looked around at the whole group “—all of us. Then Cassie and Bart are going to go home. Danny and I, at least, are going to take a nap. Then we’re gonna test the current limits to Danny’s powers.”

Danny bumped their shoulders together. “You know, this is just like gaming with you all those years.”

“Yeah, well, it’s best to be thorough.”

“We’ve measured, like, his top speed and stuff,” said Tucker, pulling out a PDA. “Want to see what we’ve got so far?”

“Absolutely.” Tim took the device and looked through it. “You’ve a decent amount of information here. Maybe instead of taking a nap, I’ll help you organize it and come up with a testing plan.”

Conner flew over to him and pulled the PDA out of his hand. “Not after pulling an all-nighter you won’t. We’re going to get some food, then the two of you are going to sleep for at least four hours.”

“I’ll set Jazz on you, too,” threatened Sam. “Don’t think I won’t.”

Tim pouted as the device was given back to Tucker. And grumbled more when Conner picked him up and threw him over his shoulder.

“Come on, food time.”

“I am going to put kryptonite in your phone,” threatened Tim.

“Bingo!” shouted Cassie.

Danny laughed as he stood. “Does this mean I can join the next round?”

Tim scowled. “Traitors, all of you.”

-----

Next

And that's the end of this Arc! Arc 3 will pick up where the original fill did. (Only this time, Tim won't be the only DC character there to help Danny.)

I'd say something like I can't believe it's only been a year, but so much has happened to me in the last twelve months that it feels like a lifetime ago, to be honest. But it's been a good year and I'm glad this community has been part of it.

Please follow the subscription post if you want updates for when I start transferring this arc to AO3 or begin posting Arc 3.

[canonicallyobserving911]

Season 8: Buck DID NOT buy a new couch!

The one in his loft that Timbuktu slept on in 8x5 is the same one Margaret bought for him after the lightning strike in 6x11!

Ok... I've seen some posts about Timbuktu sleeping on Buck's couch (I'm making a separate post about that and all BT scenes in 8x5 because I think I've figured out what the show was trying to do and express but it'll be separate from this one) and some people think Buck bought a couch with Natalia but HE DIDN'T.

Here's the proof.

In 8x5, Tonka Toy was sleeping on Buck's couch but if you take a good look at it, you'll see it's the same one Buck tried sleeping on in 6x12 and it's the one Kameron gave birth on in 6x18. (I put them side by side so they can be seen better.)

In 6x18, Kameron went into labor and Buck helped her deliver her and Connor's baby (I still don't believe the child is biologically related to Buck and I've already done several posts about it) but the point is she's on the same couch Toy Story lays down on in 8x5.

6x18

8x5

It's the same couch and it still has the same blue throw blanket on it. In 6x18, it was behind Kameron's head and in 8x5, Tonsilitis used it as a cover.

Now I think there are three possibilities here since Buck tried to get the couch cleaned at the end of 6x18.

He found some better cleaners and they were able to remove the stains.

He replaced the cushion where the stains were.

He bought the same couch his mother purchased to replace the old one.

I don't think option #3 is the best one because Buck didn't want his mom to buy him one but since she wouldn't listen after he was discharged from the hospital (she never does), he told Maddie to let her do what she wanted.

Option #2 is plausible but because the cushion appears to be attached to and embedded into the back and the sides of it, I don't think that's the right option either.

Option #1 appears to be the best one because stains can be removed from leather with the right type of solvents and cleaning materials.

The point of this post is Buck didn't buy a new couch; he still has his old one which means it's possible the couch theory is still in play. The number of callbacks that have been made to previous seasons since 8x1 aired have been astronomical and I wouldn't put it past Tim and Co. to use it as a point of reference too. Apparently, most of the old OG writers are gone and were replaced but some are still there (TW the one who wrote 8x5 is still there but it's unclear why) so the ideas on how to further retcon or reincorporate old ideas from previous seasons are obviously continued conversations in the writers' room.

Reminder, Buck still hasn't found the right person for himself (EDDIE) so it's likely he'll keep the couch his mother bought until he makes the decision for himself.

After 7x4 aired, in an interview, OS said the couch theory was a season 6 thing but I don't think it's over. If it was, they would have put a NEW COUCH in Buck's loft but they didn't, hence him finding the right couch with Eddie is still the only option.

Just saying.

I've done several posts about Buck's couch and they're linked here, here and here. Also, I did a post about what I believe the destruction of the couch meant and it's linked here and the last one I'll link (it's not the last post I did about the couch) is the one about how no one sat on Buck's couch in 6x13 (linked here).

Eddie's couch is still the right couch for Buck and that's why he still has the old one.

[mettaloverxx]

I AM GAY FOR UNDERFELL METTATON AND I NEED TO BE FED. PLEASE FEED ME /NF. YOU DONT HAVE TO. I JUST. I GOT SO DESPERATE A COUPLE MONTHS AGO THAT I LOOKED ON QUOTEV. I HAVENT BEEN ON QUITEV IN YEARS.

You came to the right place. I love fell metta very much as well! The lack of content for him is sad. But that's what I'm here for! [When I'm not lazy ofc- jghhgnf] now let's see here, how about some fluff?? It might be a little short due to writers block but i hope you enjoy anyway!

Warnings: none

Did not Proof read

Note: readers nickname for fellmetta is bug/ lovebug I do this for all fanfics I write for him ❤️

Mettafell x reader

🍓Strawberry kisses 💋

You sat on the couch listening to music. It's been a very slow and boring day. ever since metta left this morning for work, it feels like time is going 10× slower. You yawn softly and pick up your phone, and look at your previous text messages from earlier today with mettafell. Even though he was always busy with all the shows, concerts, plays, etc. He always somehow made time to text you little updates or to check up on you. But today, he wasn't texting you as much, feeling a little worried you decided to send him a text asking him how's everything was going. But before you could press, send you hear the front door opening you look over at the door and you see mettafell walk in. You smile and get up and make your way over to him. "Bug! I was just thinking about you! how did work go?" You wrap your arms around him into a loving hug, then look up at him

You immediately knew something was off by the way his face looked. Bug was good at hiding things due to being an actor, but sense you are so close to him, you've gotten good at reading him. You frowned softly. "I guess it was a bad day, huh?.." mettafell gently wraps his lower set of arms around you, returning the affection. "A bad day would be an understatement, darling. Ugh, it was...HORRENDOUS.." He let go of the hug and starts walking to the living room," the monster that I was supposed to be interviewing for my show canceled out at the last minute, someone put stains on my favorite outfit that absolutely won't come out!, There's an advid theft in the resort that keeps stealing expensive merchandise..and I'm not going to even talk about what type of magazine I caught burger pants reading on shift..." He does a robotic sigh and continues talking about his day while grabbing his spare charger by the couch he sits down and plugged himself in. You stayed quiet as you were listening to him and followed him to the living room. He looks over at you and says, "But never mind that darling, I need to charge. I'm very low on power. Give me an hour or two rest, yes?"

You gently sat down by him, watching his still body as he charged. It saddened you that he had a bad day. Maybe there was something you can do to make it a little better? You ponder for a moment before getting up and going into the kitchen with a smile on your face. you knew exactly what to do.

~

Mettafell powers back on. his body makes a soft, humming noise as he looks around, he doesn't see you. He was thinking you were upstairs, but then he hears running water in the kitchen, so he unplug himself and walks over to the kitchen he sees you washing a pan. "Hello darling, what are you getting ready to cook?" He says as he stepped closer to you. You stop washing the pan and turn around to look at him. How did you not hear him walk in? "Oh! Hi bug, I didn't know you were up already, I got you a gift," you said as you walked over to the fridge and took out a tray of chocolate covered strawberries and walked over to him. "I wanted to make you something special since you didn't have a good day. I know strawberries are your favorite, so I hope you like these"

Mettafell looks down at you, then the strawberries. It took him a minute to process this. You made his favorite desert for him. just because he had a bad day??? What?? His internal fans turn on "oh..sweetheart it looks wonderful." His eyes soften as he looks down at you and puts his hand under your chin to make you look up at him. He leans down and kisses your lips softly. You kissed him back, and it all felt like time went still, shortly after mettafell pulls away from the kiss and smiled his toothy fang grin. "Let's share them together, sweetie, we should continue watching those old human horror you were showing me to"

Your face was slightly warm, and you smile "ok love bug, I'll find a movie for us to watch tonight." You walk into the living room, and mettafell follows

You and bug spend the rest of the night sharing the sweet strawberries and watching movies together ❤️

[grassyhorizon45]

Help. - Pt 2

part 1 || part 2 || part 3

uhh my bad... looks like it really is gonna be longer than I thought. It'll be worth it I promise! I fought through writers block for this forgive me

Marauders × DiD!Reader who's slowly but surely developing it and starts experiencing symptoms :l

Warnings: A bit more yelling? and a bit of angst.

Words: 1115

James's quidditch match the next day had the whole school in high spirits. Rumour from Hufflepuff was that a new quidditch captain had been instated; and knowing James, he was definitely gonna have a pre-match panic attack in the changing room while the rest of Gryffindor prepared for the after-party.

Y/n and Remus made their way to the Gryffindor changing room about an hour or two before the match. 

Sirius and James were there already, sitting side-by-side as the latter vented. Sirius put a hand around James, offering support. 

“And then Murphy decided to sprain his ankle yesterday! Now we’re one frickin’ beater short…”

James caught sight of the two that just entered, going quiet.

Y/n’s expression softened, “Can’t Siri replace him?”

His tone was quieter now. “Even then, we don’t know what Hufflepuff has up their sleeves with that new captain of theirs… New captain means new plays and- and—”

Remus went to sit next to Sirius while Y/n sat next to James, leaning on him.

“You’ll be fine, love.” Y/n sighed, “Stop panicking.”

They spent the last few moments of ‘quiet’ together there on that bench. Y/n and Remus leaving only after the Gryffindor team had filled the once-private space.

The three knew their support pre and post match meant the world to James. He was the kind that needed attention, love and affection to grip onto mental stability. Somehow, it was just one of the things that made James…well, James, and Y/n loved him for showing that level of vulnerability. 

“Do you think James and Siri will win today?” she asked Remus as they walked to the stands.

“They’ll be fine with whatever the outcome is. Don’t worry,” Remus smiled.

Y/n nodded, “A happy James is better than a swear-y one though…”

Remus gave her a pat on the head, agreeing.

The rest of the Morning was a blur after that. Y/n hardly remembered the outcome of the quidditch match. It was all a fog, hazy in her brain. So much so that she convinced herself the morning events were all really just a dream……

There was a sharp ringing in her ear when she ‘woke up’.

Accept, Y/n wasn’t lying down… Nor was she in either her or the boys’ room.

“Bunny, what’s wrong?”

Y/n came to the realisation that someone’s hand was supporting her waist. She shifted a little, making Sirius’ hand fall to the side.

“A-Aren’t you and Jamie playing in the quidditch match today?” She mumbled, observing her surroundings as she did. “Wh-Why are we in the common room eating the food for the after-party?”

Sirius froze, catching James (who was chatting with someone across from where Y/n and Sirius stood)’s attention. He excused himself and walked towards them.

“Pads?”

The taller boy ran a hand through the other’s black curls.

“Sh-She thinks the match hasn’t started…”

“Huh?” This sparked James’ intrigue too. “We won the match, love… You and Moony came to see us before it started, remember?”

Y/n nodded slowly, “I th-think so. I thought it was a dream…”

The boys exchanged worried glances.

“You don’t remember the match at all?” Sirius asked.

Did she?

“M-Maybe I just f-forgot,” Y/n lied.

“Capt- Can I borrow you for a second?” someone interrupted.

“I-” James hesitated. “Okay… Pads, Moon will wanna hear about this.”

Sirius nodded at James before he left. 

“I-It’s not a big deal,” Y/n mumbled, faking a collected smile. “You can just… tell me about the match instead.”

“It’s not about the match, bunny,” Sirius put an arm around her, giving her a slight squeeze. “This kind of memory loss isn’t normal…”

Which brought her back to their earlier discovery. What if Remus’ previous assumptions were right? What if she did have Dissociative Identity Disorder?

Y/n excused herself from Sirius’ company, making her way to the library once again in hopes she’d find something useful. There was this sinking feeling in her heart that if she properly had this ‘multiple-personality disorder’, things would change.

Y/n got tired of the big terms after a while. Her brain felt like shutting off and she couldn’t think straight. Sleeping in the library wasn’t soooooooo bad was it?

~

“You can’t just d-drop that on me l-like that–!”

“How d-did I get here……” 

Y/n was obviously not in the library, instead she was in the boys’ room facing a near-to-tears James. 

“Jamie… You okay?”

James flinched away at her touch, storming out of the room as he tried to get a grip on his emotions.

“Wh-What the—”

The door opened again with urgency, making Y/n jump.

“I want to know why,” Sirius demanded as he stood by the open door comforting a now crying James.

“Wh-Why?” She was so confused.

Sirius’ eyes narrowed. 

“You really want me to spell it out for you?”

The bitterness in his voice was clear as day, giving Y/n the chills. 

She nodded to his ‘question’, genuinely stating, “I d-don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Sirius seemed pissed… Pissed that Y/n was ‘faking innocence’, pissed that Y/n of all people had made James cry—

“I want to know why you want to break up!”

Wait—

“I do?”

The two boys looked at her with quizzical looks.

“I-I didn’t say that…” Y/n’s heart was pounding, so loud that she could hear it in her ears.

“B-But you d-did,” James mumbled from behind Sirius.

“I only r-remember f-falling asleep in the library… A-And then waking up here.”

Sirius gulped, “We need to get you checked love; you’re scaring us.”

Y/n tensed up, “I don’t wanna see a doctor…”

James was still shaken to the core, scared of the possible end of their relationship. She noticed this…

“Oh Jamie,” Y/n went over to give him a hug. Seeing James in such a shaken state was rare. 

According to the books she’d read, Y/n suspected she wasn’t in control of her own body when…well—

As she comforted James and whispered sweet things in his ear, Sirius stood hovering by the door, deep in thought with a frown on his face.

Y/n felt guilty. Sure she wasn’t conscious when it happened but it was still her that hurt James, their Y/n that told him they should break up.

Remus came back from his prefects’ rounds to find Y/n and James cuddled up cosily, fast asleep together on James’ bed. Sirius was admiring the sight, smiling thoughtfully.

“Come here Moony…” He patted the spot next to him.

Remus smiled too, “Did I miss anything?”

“Quite a bit actually… I’ll fill you in.”

[five-miles-over]

The Phantom of Asgard - Part Two (Thor: The Dark World!Loki x Reader)

(Thank you @michelleleewise for this artwork)

Summary: It has been three days since you or anyone else in Asgard has seen a sign from the Phantom. Meanwhile, your friend tries to use a book from Midgard to convince you that ghosts exist.

Warnings: dark!Loki ,hypnotism, mentions of the plot of "Crimson Peak"

You closed the door behind you. "What are we doing here? I thought you were too scared of the Phantom to venture in the palace after dark."

"This library is different from that one. We're safe." Revna sat down on one of the comfy armchairs, leaning back. Ingrid, on the other hand, immediately searched through several books within a section of the library labeled as "Midgardian literature" as soon as she finished lighting a few candles. She pulled out a dark red hardcover book with a black stripe on the binding. "This is where Prince Thor kept his special books from Midgard. I heard from one of the Warriors Five who heard it from the All-Father himself that these books were brought from another library found in a place called New York."

"As in…New York where Thor fought alongside a bunch of so-called heroes?" You raised an eyebrow.

Ingrid placed the book in a table in front of Revna. "I thought I would show you this book since you still don;'t believe in the existence of the Phantom of Asgard."

"Actually…" Revna adjusted her position on the couch, "you never told us what happened two nights ago when we went to investigate the Phantom. We heard you screaming…and then nothing."

You ran your fingers through your hair and knelt beside her. "I told you what happened. Nothing," you lied.

"I'm not buying it."

"Well, I'm not selling." You quipped. "Crimson Peak?" You turned your attention to the hardcover, stroking the leather cover and eyeing the gold lettering.

"Crimson Peak, written by Edith Sharpe." Ingrid opened to the first page, which contained a dedication to the author's father and to her childhood friend Alan McMichael. "It's a book about this woman who married a dark, handsome man whose family home is filled with ghosts hiding in red clay!" Ingrid moved a candle closer to the book. "Maybe Lady Sharpe will change your mind about phantoms."

For the next hour, Ingrid took it upon herself to play narrator, putting on a dreamier-than-usual voice to reenact Edith's thoughts when she encountered the Sharpe siblings for the first time. 

As for Revna, she quickly became invested in the story. All she needed was the writer description of Edith's first kiss with her husband Baronet Thomas Sharpe in his workshop - the way he lifted her skirt and pinned her against the window, his passion overtaking him in the moment as he crashed his lips onto hers. "That's it." Revna declared with a loud sigh. "I want a Thomas Sharpe of my own." 

"Well, why don't you ask Prince Thor to bring you one when he visits Midgard again?" You teased her. 

Ingrid tutted. "Don't be hasty, ladies…" 

"Please, I would bet that he could out-dance all of the men of Asgard." Revna leaned back again, crossing one leg over the other.

"That's because no one here knows how to waltz." Ingrid turned the page and continued to read.

With every detail about Lady Edith's experience as the wife of Thomas Sharpe, encountering ghosts in 'Crimson Peak" that warned her of Thomas's previous marriages, you begin to picture eery, faceless monsters - no, walking skeletons - covered in red liquid that dripped with every movement. It was a far cry from the Phantom you encountered, who was truly just the God of Mischief in hiding.

But just as things started to sound too grim, the story would mention some intimate detail about Thomas, like the part of how surprisingly strong his arms were underneath the loose white shirts he wrote. And those were most entertaining to listen to, not because of how perfectly Edith expressed her love for her husband in a nuanced manner, but because of how they made Revna close her eyes and sigh, almost as if she were the one in Edith's place. You and Ingrid - how on earth was she still able to maintain a good narrative pace? - couldn't hold back peels of laughter.

"Ingrid…" Revna moaned softly, throwing her head back, which was starting to bead with sweat. "I want him."

"Even after he murdered his father-in-law, and his ex-wives?"

"He's a human and we're from Asgard" Revna countered. "I'll deal with his sister before the wedding. I'll set her up with someone."

You snickered. "Oh, so we're talking about a wedding?"

"Yeah, why not? I'll have him stay in Asgard with us."

"Let's hope the Phantom doesn't get to him," Ingrid reminded you both, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.

"Still scared?" Revna rested her chin on her palm.

Ingrid closed the book. "No one has seen him or heard from him in the past three days." She lowered her voice to a whisper, "What if he's planning a murder? Or worse…?"

"Then we'll just have Thomas's sister deal with him."

"You're insane," you interjected under your breath and hugged your knees underneath your gown while your thoughts wandered to the Phantom. Maybe no one has heard from him because he's left Asgard. He was, after all, the God of Mischief. It would be easier to search Midgard for a Thomas Sharpe doppelgänger than to attempt to completely understand Loki's psyche. And whatever he did, or wherever he went, you were bound to find out about it at some point.

Still…there was one thing you hadn't managed to understand about your encounter with the Phantom: why you? Or rather, what did he want with you? Before going into hiding as the phantom, the god of mischief was known for his silver tongue, begrudgingly praised by Asgardians. He always knew how to get what he wanted, how he wanted, and when he wanted it, one way or another. So there must have been an ulterior motive behind him showing you his magic. Some twisted, dark reason for him holding you close, touching you so intimately while he confessed the truth behind the Phantom of Asgard.

And what of the lilly he left behind when he disappeared into the night? You could still picture its pristine white petals and perfectly-cut stem, which was decorated by a green silk ribbon whose hue resembled the cape worm by the younger prince in formal events. Perhaps if you'd encountered two or more other maidens with similar 'presents' from the Phantom of Asgard, you’d have suspected that the God of Mischief had adopted a philandering persona. Though between the two princes of Asgard, it was Thor who cavorted with noble girls and laid with whomever caught his eye. Loki, on the other hand, struck you as the more romantic one, the kind of prince described in tales whispered among girls as they brushed each others’ hair. The type of prince who would never think to look at anyone else with desire after he lost his heart to someone.

“Hey?” Revna snapped her fingers in front of you, amidst Ingrid giggling. “Hello? You alright?

You blinked, accidentally saved from your own wandering mind. “We should probably head to bed…I’m fine, just tired.”

"You’re bluffing.” Revna crossed her arms. “Seriously, what happened that night? You refuse to tell us anything, and clearly you are off.”

“Look, the phantom just…” You swallowed and stood up reluctantly, wrapping your finger around the edge of another sofa. “He…he didn’t do anything. I couldn’t see him but I…I felt something hold me.” You increased your pitch to sound more nonchalant. “And then he sent me on my way.”

“So he hugged you?” Ingrid stepped closer after she returned the book.

You confirmed her words. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“That’s weird.” Revna made her way to the door and Ingrid extinguished most of the candles in the library fro the night. “Well, try to get some sleep. Who knows, maybe it was a one-time thing. At least he was nice…”

You mumbled a ‘yes’, and Revna decided that all three of you ought to head to your bedroom now. She descended down the steps of the library with Ingrid following suit.

But before you could blow out the last candle in the library, the doors swung shut with a booming thud. Holding the flickering candle by your side, you strode towards the entrance of the library only to be stopped by a harsh whisper.

“No.”

You turned around to find none other than the beautiful Phantom of Asgard standing behind you with his silk gloves, tailored black waistcoat and signature emerald mask. His raven curls and pale, square-like forehead not obscured by the mask glowed in the faint candlelight.

Your fingers pressed further into the candlestick, not caring if they left an imprint in the wax. “You…you’re not supposed to be in this part of the library.” You muttered, inching your other hand towards the doorknob and twisting it.

“And why not? Because I’m a phantom, doomed to haunt only the darkest hall, past the throne room?” He darkly chuckled, taking a step forward. With a simple flick of the wrist, the doorknob you held instantly went stiff. “Don’t pretend you don’t know the truth.”He delicately clasped your chin. “Tell me who I am.”

“You’re the God of Mischief.”

He wrapped his gloved fingers around your cheek and leaned in even closer. “Say my name.”

Heat rose in your cheeks and between your thighs. You closed your eyes, struggling to believe just how easily he could make you flushed with just a single touch. “You’re Prince Loki.”

The God of Mischief answered you by pressing his forehead against yours, while his other hand held your shoulder.

“My prince….” You felt his lips against the tip of your nose. “Don’t tease.”

“And what should I do instead?” He taunted, whispering against the side of your face. “This?” He lightly kissed your neck, and smirked when you let out a sigh. “If only you knew how much I have missed your warmth. Have you been thinking of me, sweet one?”

“How did you know?” You tried to look down only for the God of Mischief to force your eyes to meet his. “Forget I ask,” you faltered. “You’re the God of Mischief.”

“Exactly.” Loki walked backward, leading you to a couch. “Honestly, must you ladies always be in packs like she-wolves?” He remarked in a playful tone. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you alone in this palace once.”

You chose to remain silent as Loki’s hand rested on your waist, and you sensed him reappear behind you, his chest pressed against your back. “It pains me to be away from you, sweet one.”

Your hand slid down across your body, towards his. “My prince…”

“Loki.”You glanced over your shoulder. “You say that I am the only one who knows the truth…”

“Yes?” He goaded with a light kiss behind your ear.

"Then why…” You began, wondering how best to pose your question to the god of Mischief. It certainly didn’t help that his other hand inched towards your rib, lingering just below your breast. “Why? Why are you….touching me?”

He froze. “You don’t like it?” In that moment ,Loki’s voice dropped to a scared murmur, a voice so innocent and fearful that it could’ve been mistaken for a boy’s.

“No…I do like it but…” You took a deep breath. “You could have any woman in this palace, in any of the Nine Realms. Why me?”

“Because you are the only one who sees me as I am, and yet chooses my company.” Loki pushed a few locks of your hair aside. “I do not want you solely for your beauty, sweet one. I also want you for your heart.” He nuzzled against your hair. “Were someone to take you away from this place, I swear that I would burn this palace to the ground…”

“Loki.” You swallowed. Did he just say that he wanted your heart? That he would set Asgard on fire at a moment’s notice?

“Stay by my side, even if it’s only for a few moments,” he pleaded, caressing your hair. “Turn your face away from this garish light of day,…and simply take delight in this darkness, with each of its sensations.” Loki wrapped his long fingers around your neck. His intoxicating whisper drove away any defensive part of you that wanted to flee.

“As you wish,” was all that left your lips.

He rested on the couch, with you in his arms. “Someday, I’ll show you the stories in this library I enjoy the most. But tonight, all I ask is that you relieve me from my solitude.” Loki kept his fingers entangled in your hair, with the other hand resting on your own arm. He whispered, for your ears only,

“I ditt smil mitt hjerte finner ro,

I dine øyne, kjærlighet jeg for alltid skal tro."

(In your smile, my heart finds peace,

In your eyes, love I shall forever believe.)

He repeated the couplet two more times, and a strange calm fell over you. Your eyelids started to grow heavy, and your limbs became numb, like you were melting into a puddle. In a matter of moments, you fell fast asleep, a peaceful smile on your face.

“My beauty…” Loki whispered. For a brief moment, Loki lifted his mask and leaned down to kiss your eyelid. He slid the mask back on and simply held you for a few moments. While you slept in his embrace, Loki pondered to himself about the future of Asgard. He contemplated about how or if he would ever convey the news of him “not quite dying” to Thor.

How would he explain the disappearance of the All-father from Asgard? Would his punishment be worsened? No, that wouldn’t be possible, given that his original sentence was to spend the rest of his godly not-terribly-signifiant life in the dungeons.

“In due time,” Loki uttered to no one in particular. With those words, the God of Mischief lifted you in his arms in a bridal carry, and opened the library doors with a silent spell.

Once he brought you to his chambers, the God of Mischief placed you on a round bed adorned with ivory white satin bedsheets and gold pillows. He gently positioned you so that you lay on your side, and pushed the strands of hair obscuring your face. Then he conjured an emerald green cape and draped it over your body.

Would that he could, he would join you in his bed and hold you close as your heartbeat lulled him to sleep. But it would leave him far too vulnerable. What if you tried to remove his mask while he slept, lest you became repulsed by his looks, leaving him in the early hours of daylight? Alone in his bed, surrounded with his own demons and his own battles to fight? It was better that he suppress his own desires, at least for now. Forcing himself to tear his gaze away from your perfection, the God of Mischief closed the door of his own chamber and disappeared into the night.

Tagging: @icytrickster17 @mischievoushiddleston,@lokischambermaid , @lady-rose-moon , @lokisgoodgirl , @lokisninerealms @jennyggggrrr ,, @tom-hiddleston-imagines , @lokiismineforever @smolvenger @winterfrostlovetriangle , @the-haven-of-fiction , @turniptitaness @cakesandtom ,@sallymagnoliaposts @leahs-reading-nook @holdmytesseract @muddyorbsblr @anukulee @acidcasualties @lotsoflokilove23 @caffiend-queen @aesonmae @asgards-princess-of-mischief @eleniblue @fruityfucker @el-zef @huntress-artemiss @evelyn-rathmore @lovingchoices14

[50shadesofoctarine]

Why you should write that AO3 comment:

Hello! I am an AO3 author and professional fandom dipshit. This is an "essay" on why you should leave that comment on the fanfic you just read.

Table of Contents:

"Commenting is too much effort!"

"I don't know what to write!"

Do you want more fanfic?

Fan creators are human beings, not AI content generators.

You can count it as charity work on your metaphysical taxes.

"Commenting is too much effort!"

Yes, writing a comment takes energy. I'm an introvert, I get that. I have two counter arguments to this point.

AO3 comments are not the SAT:

This is a comment from my latest fic, Quantum Entangled.

Three words and a heart. It requires zero consideration, it isn't specific to the fic, it's something you could copy-paste, even. A comment like this is better than nothing. I'll let my reply from AO3 explain why:

"You know what, I appreciate this way more than you'd probably expect. The temptation to lurk is a strong one, both for social anxiety reasons and internet content-consumption culture reasons. But when people lurk, I can't tell that they've enjoyed the story. The more people that lurk instead of interacting, the more I assume that my work wasn't good enough, irrespective of the reader's actual feelings. So this was a very welcome comment to read. Thank you for indicating your enjoyment. I will endeavour to write more stuff for you to lurk on in the future. :)"

A comment like this, one that is as thoughtless and low effort as possible, is still a comment. Something that denotes a reader's interest. Because, and I can't be clear enough about this, I HAVE NO OTHER WAY OF KNOWING THAT YOU LIKED IT. Kudos and comments are my only window into the reader's experience.

Sure, I'd love more detailed and thorough comments on my work, but, if that expectation is the thing that's going to stop you from commenting at all, I'd prefer the bland copy-paste appreciation.

Onto my second argument.

Do you know what also takes effort? WRITING THE DAMN FIC:

You do not get to complain about being forced to type a congratulatory handful of words after reading that 200k slow-burn fantasy au. Do you know how many hours went into that thing? Do you? Because I can guarantee that it was A LOT. All that writers are asking for is a single emoji. A kudos, at the very least. Consider the effort that went into the creation that you've just experienced and give just a thimble full of it back.

Authors lay out a feast for you to devour. They're only requesting a "thank you".

"I don't know what to write!"

Like in the previous example, an AO3 comment can be as simple as three words saying that you appreciated it. Just an acknowledgement that you were there. It doesn't have to be fancy.

But if you want fancy...?

Here's one of my comments, from Tishae's Better Together.

Let me break it down for you.

"Stunning. This au is so well developed. I love how you managed to maintain tension after the point that they discover that their feelings are requited. This was brilliantly paced, and the action (esp the ending) was so engaging."

The comment opens with appreciation. (Think of it as a sandwich with love as the bread. It starts and ends with my enjoyment.)

There are specific details about what I liked.

"If I may ask, what was the crime that the Metatron committed? Maybe I'm bad at reading between the lines or maybe I missed something, but I'm really curious as to what dirt they have on him. Victimless? Bad enough for imprisonment, but not so morally reprehensible as to make Anathema reveal it? Did he embezzle? That's all I can really think of."

Continues with a specific question about the story and plot.

Shows that I was critically engaged and actively considering the story.

You don't have to have questions about every fic that you read, but don't be afraid to ask them if you do. I love it when people ask me about my work.

"Thank you for the delicious food. I honestly thought that you were going to have Crowley's final look be something in grey (black and white being the theme of the show, metaphorically representing separation/binary, so Aziraphale was uncomfortable with it due to the implications. Grey, symbolising unity/shades of grey as an idiom, would then be the biggest middle finger to the Metatron) but I do really like what you came up with."

Gratitude.

Thoughts about how I read the plot. (This is something I particularly love to read as an author. Please tell me what's going on in that funky lil' brain of yours!!)

"I'm hoping this comment provides plenty of dopamine. If the task activation and instant gratification parts of your brain light up, you might be more likely to write GO content again. Love your work, thanks for sharing it. I hope you gain 3 inches of metaphorical dick length. Please keep writing."

Encouragement to keep writing. (This is the best way to ensure that creators remain in the fandom)

A funny comment to sign off.

Now that you know what to comment, let's start on the real reasons why you should.

Do you want more fanfic?

Fun fact! Fanfictious Authoria are a species that sustain themselves entirely on a diet of brain worms, unfinished WIPs, and kudos. As one of the three fundamental food groups, removing kudos from the fandom ecosystem causes a complete collapse of the natural order. In times of unprecedented scarcity, entire populations of Fanfictious Authoria can die out completely. This means that the production of fanfiction, in that particular region of fandom, stops entirely, often causing major ecological damage, and the subsequent deaths of fan species in the same genus. (Like the Fanfictious Artia, or the Fanfictious Editour, both of which subsist on fanfiction based diets to survive.)

In conservation efforts, experts are imploring readers to donate kudos and comments toward any fandom region that they want to stay alive.

But I digress.

When I want more content, I tell the author. Ask and you shall receive; it's the best way to convince an author/artist to make more.

My comment on @mrghostrat's And They Were Streamers

You liked it? Then COMMENT! Not for the author's sake, but for your own. You want to see the ending of a WIP? Well, it'd be a terrible shame if the author gave up on it because they thought no one was reading... They don't know that you enjoy their work until you TELL THEM. They're not psychic, you have to help them hear you. Commenting on the things you like influences the creators of said things to attribute the act of making content (and, notably, making the type of content that specifically appeals to you) with the dopamine hit of reading your reaction. Treat them like Pavlov's dogs. Ring the kudos-bell.

Fan creators are human beings, not AI content generators.

They have real human feelings and real human egos. The contemporary attitude towards media engagement is skewed towards algorithmic, instant, and uncritical consumption. This is pumping straight gasoline into the beautiful lakes of our fandom ecosystem. Fandom cannot afford to treat its creators like mechanical text generators. We are not an unfeeling assembly line, only there to produce content. We are enthusiasts, engaging in our hobby. No fan creator has to show you anything. They are fully within their rights to keep their works hidden in their computer files, never to see the light of day. Every fanfic on AO3 is only there because someone had the grace to share it with you. You are not entitled to an author's work, just as they are not entitled to your kudos. We have a mutually beneficial arrangement. Do not forget your part in this symbiosis.

It's a problem that extends beyond AO3. Tumblr is a less enthusiastic place than it used to be. Fandom as a whole is drifting towards a consumption mindset. I, for one, am sick of it. Reblog things, like them, share them. Make fanart of fanart. Who gives a shit? Do the cringy thing. You don't have to cultivate your blog aesthetic. Be who you are, like what you like, and have enthusiasm about all of it. Fandom should be an expression of radical self acceptance. Embrace it. Leave essays about fics that you liked. Reblog the essays of other's when you see them. Exist in the mutual joy of seeing and being seen. You are not just an external observer, absorbing content from a distance. You are here too. Wave back at us. Say 'hi.'

You can count it as charity work on your metaphysical taxes.

My final appeal is a moral one.

Commenting on AO3 is just a kind thing to do.

You are your actions. Are you the kind of person who does the kind thing when no one is watching? When no one will care?

Fanfiction is a hobby, and I'm not here to guilt you about how you spend your leisure time. I'm only here to say that there is a kindness you could be giving the world.

If you are one of the people that performs this kindness, I thank you.

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 24/? Word count: 3006 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 22. Out Of Sight, But On Your Mind

Charles parked his car close to the factory. Besides meeting fans and taking photos with them at the gate, he received a few gifts for his team principal. It was his first day back at the factory after Silverstone. He collected all the gifts and got out of the car. He looked at them. There were a few handwritten notes and a few stuffed animals. A soft smile grew on his face. He thought it was cute from the fans.

As he walked through the gates, the atmosphere shifted from the enthusiastic cheers from the fans to the more subdued workplace ambience. Charles couldn't help but wonder how Matilde was doing. It has been four days since he last saw her.

Deciding to leave the gifts in Matilde's office, Charles approached her office, which wasn't empty. He hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to leave the gifts behind or not. He decided to go with the first option since he didn't know where else to leave them.

"Hello, can I leave this in Matilde's office?" Charles politely asked the woman behind Galileo's desk. Where was Galileo?

The woman looked up, showing some arrogance. "You can ask Mister Verratti."

Oh, right, Narciso Verratti was the interim team principal for now. Charles showed a small smile and nodded. He knocked on the glass door and waited until he got a response. Narciso looked up from his work and gave him a nod. Charles opened the door and stepped inside. "Hello," he smiled.

"Buongiorno, Charles," the businessman said. "It's good to see you. What can I do for you?"

"I have some gifts for Matilde," Charles said and looked at the gifts. He looked back up to Narciso, who looked at Charles like he was stupid. "Can I leave them here for when she comes back?"

Narciso took a deep breath and looked back at his computer screen. "Sure," he breathed. "You're not the first one. You can leave them in the corner," he said, pointing to the corner. "She's very loved, isn't she?" he mumbled.

Charles stepped towards the corner, but stopped walking when he heard those words. "Come again?" He turned around.

"Hmm, what?" Narciso looked at Charles again. "I was talking to myself, sorry."

"Ha," Charles replied, squinting his eyes while scanning the man. He placed the gifts alongside the other gifts on a cabinet and left the office. Charles walked through the engineer's department, finding it awfully quiet. The exchanged greetings lacked the usual energy. Did they all miss Matilde so much? How much influence did she have?

"Hey," Charles greeted the team. He sat down next to Xavi. Oh, shit, the golden birthday box in Matilde's desk drawer. His eyes shot to the glass office; he didn't want to disturb Narciso again.

"Hello," Xavi replied.

More engineers greeted Charles.

"Everything okay here?" Charles asked.

Xavi nodded. "Hmm-hmm, just as usual."

Charles nodded, leaning back in his chair. "Narciso seems very enthusiastic to be here," he sarcastically said. "It looks like his mood is affecting the entire building," he observed.

Looks were shared, but no words were exchanged.

The topic shifted to work-related things, and the past weekend was summarised. The collected data had already been processed, and they quickly began to talk about the setup for the Hungarian Grand Prix. Carlos also joined the talk with his team, just like a few others who were important to a race weekend. The things that they usually discuss during a meeting with Matilde are discussed during a spontaneous desk meeting without the interim team principal.

After an hour, they called in a break. Charles looked at the TP's office again, observing if Narciso noticed anything about the desk meeting. And it wasn't the case since he was still very focused on his computer screen. That was until his assistant called him, and they both left. Charles saw the perfect opportunity to get the golden birthday box.

"I will be right back," he said, quickly walking towards Matilde's office. He walked to her desk and opened the drawer. And there it was: the golden box. He grabbed it and quickly walked away. It was like he was completing a secret mission. And his team thought that as well, when they saw Charles sneakily entering and leaving the office. A reassuring smile rested on his face, and he went to look for Galileo. "Where can I find Galileo?" Charles asked a woman from HR.

"Marketing and PR, probably."

"Alright, thanks." Charles smiled and walked to the next department on the top floor. And indeed, Galileo was moved to this floor. He was sitting in the corner, facing the wall; an improvised work corner. "Demoted?"

Galileo dramatically swung around, sighed and looked unamused at Charles. "Boss is not there, I'm not there," he said. "If you need Matilde, good luck contacting her family." He showed a fake smile and turned around.

"It's Good to see you, too," Charles said. I came here to ask you a favour—well, Matilde did." He placed the golden box on the desk.

"What is this?"

"The birthday box," Charles replied and opened the box. "With birthday cards. Matilde asked to deliver these around the office when there is a birthday."

Galileo flipped through the cards and noticed a list. "I never knew she did this." He opened the list, and all the birthdays of the employees of the month of July were noted there. His eyebrows raised, he never knew about this. "She missed a few days."

"Yeah, she's not here," Charles shot back. "Look, I am not here every day and you are, she specifically asked for you to do this." He looked at the assistant. "Can you take care of it? I'm sure everyone will appreciate it."

Galileo nodded. "Absolutely." He got up. "I will deliver these straight away." He shuffled through the cards.

"I will help you," Charles offered.

Galileo raised his eyebrow and looked impressed. "That is kind of you."

They walked through the different departments and buildings to deliver the birthday cards to the destined people. They obviously wished them a happy birthday as well. For the ones who weren't present, they left a card on their desk or in their locker.

As they walked around, Charles and Galileo engaged in a conversation, discussing various topics and occasionally sharing anecdotes about their experiences with Matilde. It was starting to become evident that despite the different roles they played in the team, Matilde's influence had touched each member in unique ways.

"I've got to admit," Galileo said with a chuckle. "You are the last person I ever thought I'd be walking through the office with delivering birthday cards."

"How the tables have turned," Charles replied.

They continued their task, stopping by different workstations to wish team members a happy birthday. The expressions of surprise and gratitude on their colleagues' faces hinted at the positive impact of Matilde's thoughtful tradition.

They stumbled across the night shift manager as they approached the final department. Galileo and Charles walked over to him with grins on their faces. Mario looked up from his desk and gave the two young lads a side-eye.

"What do you need?" Mario sighed and annoyedly removed the glasses from his face.

"It's your birthday delivery service," Charles said and widely smiled. "Buon compleanno, Mario."

Galileo stuck out the card. "Happy birthday," he smiled. "Matilde wanted to give this to you herself, but unfortunately, she couldn't be here."

"Thank you, kids," Mario replied and smiled gratefully. He accepted the card and opened the envelope, taking the card out of it. It was a white card with a small red car in the middle. He smirked and read what was written inside: a simple birthday message. Mario looked up, noticing Galileo and Charles desperately trying to see what the card looked like. "Wait until it's your turn," he said, shaking his head. He placed the card on his desk. "Thank you. How is she doing?" He leaned back on his chair.

Charles and Galileo shared a quick glance, to see who would answer the question. "Fine," Galileo then said. "Recovering, but fine, I think. I haven't spoken to her since Tuesday." It was now Friday.

Mario nodded. "It's just bad luck that it happened to her, nothing that would have prevented it. Anyway, I will send her a quick message and then prepare for the meeting," he breathed.

"Shouldn't you be at home?" Galileo then asked, realising it was weird to see Mario.

"Yes, but Mister Narcissist wants me to be at a meeting, even though I'm completely not needed."

Charles squinted his eyes. He knew who Narciso Verratti was, but he had barely met him. And he started to see and understand that not everyone liked the businessman. "It's a shame," he shared.

"It is what it is," Mario shrugged.

Then Galileo and Charles said bye, wishing Mario good luck with his work. Their mission was complete, and the two walked back to the office, satisfied with the positive and grateful reactions their co-workers shared. Plus, the two finally started to connect with each other. They were engaged in a casual conversation. The weight of the birthday delivery mission seemed to have lifted some of the initial tension between them. Charles began to see Galileo as more than just the 'annoying' and 'heartless' assistant, and Galileo started to appreciate Charles beyond the race track instead of the grumpy dickhead. They had one thing in common: they highly respected Matilde, and she highly respected her team.

Charles returned to his engineers. "Sorry, it took longer than expected," he apologised.

"What were you doing with Galileo?" Carlos asked and raised his eyebrows, being aware of the relationship between Charles and Galileo.

"Something Matilde asked us to take care of."

When it was time to go to the meeting, everybody got something to drink first and made their way to the meeting room. Once everyone was present - on time - they had to wait for Narciso. The people in the meeting room were lively and sharing things. Until... until two people walked in. The room fell silent and the entire atmosphere changed on the spot.

"Buon pomeriggio a tutti," Narciso greeted the team and sat down on Matilde's spot. His assistant sat across the room, which was not Galileo's spot. It was different. "Cominciamo," he called, saying that they could begin.

Laurent Mekkies got up and walked over to the presentation screen, ready to present the recap and upcoming events. "Good afternoon, everyone. Last week was an intense and weird week, I hope everyone recovered from it and has found new energy for the upcoming races. It's gonna be tough, especially because it is the last doubleheader before the summer break-"

"Mi scusi, perché parliamo inglese?" Narciso asked why everyone was talking in English. "We are in Italy, we are an Italian team, everyone in this room speaks and understands Italian."

No one dared to answer. Looks were shared.

"Matilde understands Italian to a certain level," Mario backed Matilde up. "She is still learning it, and it's going well, but the racing terms are still difficult. We are practising every now and then, but we like to keep it accessible to everyone in this team."

Narciso took a deep, disappointing breath and looked around the room; everyone seemed to agree with Mario by the looks on their faces. "Now it makes sense why every document is in English, even the internal documents that used to be Italian," he mentioned. "Anyway, let's continue in English then."

The meeting continued in English, but the tension lingered. Narciso's entry had disrupted the harmonious atmosphere that Matilde had cultivated within the team. Slowly, some members began to see what kind of culture Ferrari had before Matilde joined; old, traditional, stiff, a hierarchical culture, barely open communication. It worked for a couple of years, but... It wasn't something for now. When Matilde joined the team, the communication became open and modern; she had an open-door policy, and the lines slightly faded in the hierarchy. Of course, there were boundaries, but the culture became open. And just the way Matilde approached things; she smiled a lot, wasn't afraid to make a joke and allowed funny and light moments. Matilde had an influence on the team, and people have begun to notice it.

You know what you're missing when you don't have it anymore.

* * *

"Matilde, don't stress and don't get overhyped. It's not good for your recovery," her father mentioned. "Don't wind yourself up."

Matilde looked at her father and rolled her eyes, ignoring the comment. The pre-race show just ended, and they were ready to watch the race in Budapest, Hungary. It had been two weeks since the surgery, and Matilde had recovered well; however, she still wasn't allowed to work for another week - or travel, so she was still in the cottage in England. It didn't take her away from the Grand Prix because she lived for it. It was weird to watch the pre-race show, weird because people discussed Matilde's team, the changes and her performances so far. Plus, she hadn't watched a pre-race show in years.

"Matilde and not winding herself up over F1?" Linnea, Matilde's best friend, smirked.

"It's not possible, but we will still try it, don't we?" her father said strictly.

"Yes," Matilde briefly said and smiled, running her hand through her blown-out hair. "If they don't fuck it up."

Sven, also a good friend of Matilde, sat next to Matilde on the couch and padded her shoulder. "Don't be negative. If they fuck it up, it is not your fault."

"Instead, everybody will see how great of a team principal you are," Kai added, another friend.

"Yes, and if everything goes flawless, I am the failure," Matilde shot back. "And if they fuck it up, if Narciso fucks it up, I have to fix it all over again."

"No stress," Dagmar said, and she smiled.

The friends Matilde had over for the Hungarian Grand Prix were friends from England. Long story short: they met over Facebook while looking for Danish people in England. They all lived in the same area, and they became close friends. One of the advantages now Matilde was stuck in England to recover, was that she could see her friends more than once. The disadvantage: no Grand Prix. But in this case: she preferred the advantage.

"Alright, the predictions. Linnea," Sven said. "We're just going to do like we used to do." He pointed at Linnea.

Linnea took a deep breath. "It's not fair. Matilde can predict these things much more easily. She literally is F1," she whined.

Laughter filled the living room.

"One bad start or yellow flag, and things are changing," Matilde replied and smiled.

"Fine. Verstappen, Russell, Perez."

Matilde huffed.

Linnea looked at Matilde. "See!"

"Matilde, shut up. Ferrari is rubbish this weekend, I'm sorry," Sven rubbed the reality in Matilde's face; Charles managed to qualify in P6 and Carlos P7 after some terrible sessions. "Kai?"

"Same as Linnea," Kai answered.

"Dagmar?"

"I think Verstappen, Perez, Alonso."

"Viggo?"

"I don't think Verstappen will win. I think Perez, Verstappen, Leclerc," Matilde's father replied.

Matilde nodded. "Thank you," she said. She made eye contact with Sven, who was waiting for her prediction. "Max, Checo, Hamilton." Everybody began to laugh. "I don't know what Narciso is doing, but he can't lead a team. And Sven, what about you?"

"Verstappen, Checo, Piastri," he replied.

"Bold prediction," everyone said.

"That's F1," Sven proudly said.

Matilde's father moved to the kitchen to prepare some snacks.

"Did you wish your team good luck, or are you throwing it on the I'm-not-working treatment," Sven asked Matilde.

"I'm on medical leave, not literal leave," Matilde replied with a smirk. "I need to let them know that I'm thinking of them, I've got to keep up appearances-"

"Like poison," Dagmar concluded.

"Leave that girl alone," Linnea said. "Being part of Ferrari and being forced to be at home and see your team fail is... Meh, not so fun."

The formation lap began. Even though Matilde wanted to watch the show without any data, she opened her laptop and put the statistics on F1TV. Cheers filled the living room; they had a small bet about when Matilde would pull out the data for this race. After a few minutes, all the cars lined up.

Matilde couldn't ignore the subtle racing heartbeat within her chest. The familiar roar of the engines was hearable through the speakers, creating a symphony of sound that enveloped the room. Matilde's eyes were fixed on the screen, but her mind was also on the grid, imagining the strategic discussions. She straightened her back and sat on the edge of the couch.

The lights went out, and away they went.

"I swear, the first thirty seconds after the start are just nerve-wracking," Dagmar said and observed all the cars.

"Shh," Kai and Sven hushed.

Matilde got up, stood in front of the TV, and watched the start carefully. She was just hoping for a decent start. Initially, she didn't want this to be a good race because then it meant she didn't do a good job at Ferrari—or she did, because then it meant she led the team well. But she wanted a good race for the team, for them, so they could enjoy the good performances.

"Hey, hey, you pushed him off the track!" Matilde said when Stroll pushed Carlos off the track. "Jeez, man. Calm down." Carlos dropped back to P18. Her eyes searched for Charles, who gained two positions. "What the fuck," she responded to the incident and placed her hands on her hips.

"It's gonna be a racing incident," Sven reminded everyone.

"No, shit, Sherlock," Kai responded.

Matilde gave Sven a side eye but kept her mouth shut. She sat down on the couch again and scanned the data on the laptop. So far, so good—well, semi-good.

Snacks were passed around, and the living room was filled with the sounds of laughter, cheers and analyses. It felt like they were ten years back in time; watching F1 and just spending the Sunday together. 

Next chapter

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313 @blodwyn4u

[megamindsecretlair]

Can you do more smit with vampire Tyrone. Like how did they meet, how did the reader find out Tyrone was a vampire? How did they fall in love?

A Seduction at Midnight Prequel

Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. No smut. Cursing, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Mentions of stalking and manipulation. Mean-ish reader.

Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. And when he tells you he's a vampire, did you really believe him?

Word Count: 4,143k

This has now been turned into a series! Read here: Midnight Sin Masterlist

A/N: Since I don't know how to lay my ass down, enjoy a little vamp Tyrone prequel! How did they meet? The previous fic, they weren't actually in love. Reader is just down bad. I mean, wouldn't you be? Thank you so much for the ask, this was fun! No smut, because the party was the first time they had sex, sorry! Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland

Tyrone

Tyrone knew better. He knew better than to go out among the mortals. The stench of them was unbearable. Every year, humans found more and more ways to debase themselves. They don’t wash, they don’t eat properly, and they drown themselves in buckets of artificial smells. It buried the scent of their blood and he hated it all.

However, his business partner encouraged him to come to the club tonight. Slick Charles was a fast talking, smooth operator that could sell water to a fish. He was ruthless in matters of business. Fed up with hearing his begging, Tyrone decided to come out for one night only.

He much preferred the solitude of his property. Even the parties were starting to dull him. Seen one orgy, you’d seen them all. 

Tyrone reclined on the couch in the VIP section, a booth reserved only for him. It faced the dancefloor below, the bar area, the private tables, and the front door. He watched over everything. Watched how the mortals filled their short lives with bigger and louder and messier.

“We doin’ real well, ‘round here Tyrone. Real well. If we weren’t so exclusive, we could snatch up licensing rights quicker than a ho on the wrong corner,” Slick Charles said. Tyrone half listened.

He sat with legs crossed, his hands resting on his knees. The sunglasses he wore did little to dim his vision but it kept the curious ones from making comments about his eyes. 

And then he saw you. You were down by the bar, leaning over it in a sinful red dress that left little to the imagination and yet, still covered much of your body. Only the middle was cut out, thin straps crossing over your tummy. You kicked up one leg, showing red bottom “fuck me” heels. Your body dimensions were out of this world. 

Tyrone kept watch while you flirted with the bartender to score free drinks. Slick Charles was still droning on, but Tyrone made a mental note to address the bartender issue. You carried the trio of drinks to a private table with two other women dressed similar to you. Their dresses were much shorter, scantily clad, with pieces of material over their bodies. Barely enough to call it a dress. 

Tyrone took a deep breath, sifting through scents until he was sure he smelled you. Something natural and earthy, like fresh rain. The more he took in your scent, the more his mouth salivated. 

Your scent hit him like a ton of bricks. Your blood sang to him. Called to him. Tyrone lowered his glasses, looking at you over the top of them. You were intoxicating. How were you still unmarked? How had no one claimed you yet? 

“See, what I was thinking was at least one other club. Like on the east coast maybe. I did such a good job here, I know I can bring that Slick Charles flavor over there, know what I mean?” 

“Slick,” Tyrone said.

“Yeah?” 

“We’re not franchising. Who is that?” Tyrone kept his eyes on you, too afraid that if he looked away, you’d disappear and take that tempting aroma with you. You were a temptress. Sent here to provoke him.

“Duncan, party of three,” Slick responded. “I didn’t get all of their names.”

A kernel of anger coursed through him. How dare you smell so good? He licked his lips. He had to have a taste of your blood. Hunger pains made him place one hand over his stomach. He hadn’t reacted this strongly in centuries. He could hardly recollect what happened then. 

Tyrone replaced his shades and watched as you mingled with your friends, drinking and clinking your glasses. He longed to hear what you sounded like, what you tasted like.

You

You were so fuckin’ sick of your bitchy friend. You smiled and clinked glasses with them and encouraged London to take another shot. You looked to your other friend, Amanda, and you shared a look. 

London was back on her “I hate Carlos” bender, which meant going out nearly every night in too tight dresses and heels, cruising for men she wasn’t going to take home. As soon as her Instagram blew up with pictures of her having fun, dressed up sexy, and hanging onto random men, Carlos would call. 

He’d beg and cry and sniffle until she took him back and it was another few months before they were breaking up again. You and Amanda had long ago stopped trying to get in the middle of that bullshit. You were sick of the cycle. 

You were not looking for a man and you hated how pushy these dudes were. They sent over drinks, tried to sidle up to the table, grabbed your waist to try and pull you onto the dancefloor. 

You wanted to stick your stiletto in their eyes. You wanted to scratch or maim them. Teach them a lesson about putting hands on women they don’t know. Who fuckin’ raised these animals? 

Maybe you were just too old for the club scene. You were approaching your 30s and you were fucking over it. All of these men were raised in the barn. Worse, they were raised under the barn. They stunk, their breaths were horrible, and didn’t have two nickels to rub together but wanted to buy you a drink. Please.

So, no, you didn’t want the hustle and bustle of meeting someone, finding out they weren’t shit, and getting back into the rat race. 

You rolled your eyes as London took another fuckin’ selfie with her drink. You had been here an hour and you wanted to dip. You longed for a bath, some smell good, and the next trashy program you could binge watch. You locked eyes with Amanda again. She rolled her neck and gave you a pointed look.

Yes, you were seeing this mess. And yes you were over it. Amanda was the one who came up with the idea of the table. She thought that by supplying London with alcohol and posting all night, you could avoid the drunken desperation of finding any guy that would take a picture with her. You did not have the strength to fight off another fuck boy. 

You watched over your friend like a boring mom-friend, wasting your good dress, until she finally got a like from Carlos. “See! Knew that fucker was watching my stories!” 

“Why don’t we call it a night? This place is dead,” you said. The place actually looked fun. It had good, grown and sexy vibes. There was ambient lighting all around, shadless bulbs hanging down from the ceiling. The music was grown too. Music you could either dance or fuck to.

The floor itself was spacious with enough room for people to actually breathe. The club limited how many people came in at once. It was a huge place, two levels. The top floor was for the real VIPs. Celebrities, CEOs, billionaires, royalty, or people with that much money to throw around.

Maybe you’d have to come back here with Amanda, without London. “Yeah, it’s no fun when there’s no guy to make him jealous. All these mu’fuckas ugly anyway.”

Sweet-fucking-music to your ears. You gathered your things and slipped out of the booth. You linked arms with Amanda as you waited for London to scoot her tiny ass out of the booth.

“Think they’ll notice if I wear this back here?” You asked.

“Girl no, didn’t nobody fuckin’ see it,” Amanda said.

You laughed with her. “You right, you right.” 

Amanda placed her hands on London’s shoulders to steady their drunk friend. Maybe their plan worked a little too well. “Why he gotta act like that?” 

You turned your head and rolled your eyes. Crying over a man? You could fuckin’ never. “Because men are pigs,” you said. What else was new? The sky was blue, fire was hot, and men weren’t shit.

You steered London out of the club. Sharp wind smacked you in the face as you left the warm interior. There was a line outside of hopeful people ready to get inside. 

Outside, you pulled your phone out of your clutch so that you could call up a ride for all three of you. “She can crash at my place tonight,” Amanda said. London went to sit on the curb, holding her head in hand as she scrolled through her pictures. 

“Are you sure?” You asked.

Amanda sighed and looked at London. “Might as well. I think you had her last time,” she said.

You agreed and moved to the side, out from under the streetlight to better see your phone. You typed as you moved. Something heavy slammed into your shoulder and you went careening to the side about to trip over your heels.

Strong hands encircled you and you steadied yourself. 

“Yo, what the fuck?!” You shrieked.

“Damn, bitch you don’t see me walking?” Some pimp-lookin’ wannabe looked you up and down. He wore a leather jacket over a black turtleneck and heeled boots. He looked like a damn clown. 

“The fuck did you just call me?” 

“Apologize to the lady!” A deep, smooth voice moved over you like chocolate. You looked into the face of the one who held you.

Damn. He was gorgeous. Rich, ebony skin. Faint facial hair. Neat cornrows. The sunglasses hid his eyes from you. But those lips. You stared at his lips as they moved. 

“...alright?” 

“Huh?” You asked. 

“Are you alright, miss?” He asked.

You told him your name. He let you go now that you weren’t in danger of falling on your ass. He held out his hand. You took it. His hand was so warm, near scorching. He brought your hand to his lips.

“I’m Tyrone,” he said.

You smiled at him. It had to be illegal to look that damn good. He wore an all black suit, nothing fancy, no jacket. There was a silver chain running from his vest to his pants pocket.

You giggled as his soft lips brushed your knuckles. “A pleasure to meet you,” he said.

Maybe…you needed to rethink your whole stance on men. He smiled without showing his teeth, still holding your hand. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? That was pretty rude of that man,” Tyrone said.

You shrugged. “Par for the course. Most men are rude,” you said.

“Well, then, I hope to be the exception.” 

***

Tyrone

Tyrone knew better. But he could not get you out of his mind. The night he met you was like a shock to his system. Rebooting the long frozen heart in his chest. You really had no clue how delectable you smelled. He wondered once again how you flitted through life with no one claiming you.

True, vampires were decreed to keep their activities hidden. Only allowed to keep three donors in rotation and even then, not keeping them for long. It took every ounce of restraint he possessed not to drink you like ambrosia through a straw.

Unbeknownst to you, Tyrone spent his nights learning your routine. A few keystrokes on the computer and he learned where you worked. Keystrokes later, he found your address. Every night since that meeting, he perched in the shadows of your place, looking for any glimpses of you. 

He knew when you came home that you locked your car and swiftly headed inside. Not bothering to search your surroundings. Careless. You did at least lock your doors. Your neighborhood was…cute. Seemed beneath someone as gorgeous and smart as you were. 

You were undervalued at the company you worked for. Yet, you seemed content with that. Why? 

Each new thing he uncovered about you only served to pique his interest more. He had pieces of you but the whole picture wasn’t clear. And it wasn’t enough. 

Tyrone watched you for weeks. You were none the wiser. Each night, he thought he’d finally give in and devour you. Your scent was its own temptation. Luring him half across the city. Begging for him to take you and claim you as his. 

But then you’d do something cute like tilt your head. Or wear another sexy dress that looked painted on your ass. His dick stirred on more than one occasion as he watched you. He yearned to bury himself in you. Wondered if your pussy tasted as good as you smelled. 

He didn’t know what the hell you were doing with your two friends. They seemed beneath you as well. He caught the way you’d look at them sometimes. Like you wanted to set fire to their hair with just your eyes. Why remain friends with them? 

In his nightly watches, he never caught a man sniffing around. None? How were you not beating them back with a stick? How did they not harass you day and night, wanting to be in your orbit? 

You ended up coming back to the club and he arranged another accidental bump into you, charming you into giving up your number. He already had it. But you didn’t need to know that. He ended up talking to you every second of the day and night. 

He had to explain that his job gave him an opposite schedule, sleeping all day and up all night. You seemed to buy it. 

He took you out on a few trips. Showing you LA at night. The LA Zoo hosted a special event where they set up lights to look like animals. You glowed in the neon light and Tyrone hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off of you. 

But he held himself back. Only touched your hand or the small of your back to lead you through the crowd. He wanted you to crave his touch. He wanted you to seek out his comfort. So he held off on touching as much as possible.

You were probably used to men pawing at you. He endeavored to be the exception and that was what he was going to do. He took you to restaurants and museums. You marveled at how he was able to get you in after dark. He walked you through the galleries, regaling you with anecdotes about painters and artists. Some he knew in a previous life, but he couldn’t tell you that.

Eventually, you got curious about the shades. Strangely, he didn’t want to lie to you. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Tyrone said. 

“Try me,” you said. 

You had been going out for a few months and talking all the time. He knew the shades would be an issue at one point. Especially since it was clear he wasn’t blind. Tonight, he took you on a private Griffith Observatory trip. On the deck, he stood beside you and looked out over LA. 

“Do you believe in monsters?” 

“Like the boogeyman?” You sang.

“Naw, like vampires and werewolves,” he said. 

You giggled and shook your head. “Uh, no,” you said. 

“Why not?” He asked.

“Are you going to tell me about your glasses or not?” You asked.

Tyrone smirked. “C’mon, indulge me,” he said.

You shrugged and looked out over the cityscape. Why didn’t you?

You

Why would you have a reason to believe in monsters? Sure, you had the odd fantasy about them. The occasional smutty book about being at the mercy of one. But they were all cheap knock offs and underwhelming.

Pale, frigid beings that masqueraded as high school kids. Yuck. The fuck would a vampire want with jail bait? Even if they looked young, they weren’t young. They ought to know better. 

“I guess Hollywood made them too clean and sanitized. They’re actors with fake teeth. They don’t actually exist. What keeps them alive? Why blood? Where does it go?” You asked. 

“What if I told you they were real?” He asked.

You sucked your teeth. “I knew you were too pretty and perfect. There had to be something wrong with you,” you said.

You giggled, meaning it as a joke. But maybe there was some truth to it. Tyrone always held himself away from you. As if he were afraid that you’d break if he touched you too long. At first it was hot, but dammit. You were a modern woman with needs. Each successful date was like another nail of desire hammered into you. 

You lay awake at night, feverish. No one else had been able to rev you up like that. But any time you tried to get close, Tyrone found some excuse to keep his distance. Even when he dropped you off at home, he’d kiss your hand and ask when he could see you again. 

Tyrone smirked and rubbed his jaw. “What if I were serious? What if I told you that monsters are real and they’re out to steal your blood?” 

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay, what does that have to do with your shades?” 

Tyrone lifted his hands to his shades and tugged them off. He kept his red eyes trained on you. Wait..red? 

You backed up a step. He had deep, red rimmed eyes where people would normally have brown or blue. “What the –” 

“Don’t freak out,” he said. 

“Where’d you get contacts like that?” You asked. It looked so real. Like movie-grade real. 

Tyrone chuckled, not showing his teeth. “Naw,” he said. He licked his lips. He stalked closer. He bared his teeth, his canines longer than normal. Pointed and sharp. Sharp enough to pierce skin.

Your heart thundered in your chest. “You can’t really be serious, right?” 

Tyrone shrugged. He put his shades back on his face. “Guess we’ll have to wait and see. If you’ll still have me,” he said. He held out his hand and you looked at it.

Was this guy crazy? You weighed who he had been with what you were discovering tonight. Surely, he was just a vamp lover, like a furry. Right? You took his hand. Your curiosity would get you in trouble, but you weren’t done trying to discover what made Tyrone tick. You might regret it.

***

You

Tyrone took your questions with resounding patience. He answered them all. Yes, he drinks blood. Yes, he can run fast. No, he could not shapeshift into a bat. No, he couldn’t turn invisible. Garlic was just another abhorrent smell. Silver didn’t bother him. 

“C’mon, you really believe you’re a vampire?” You asked. 

Tyrone took off his glasses, safe to do so since you were walking along the outside of the Getty museum. The view was breathtaking. Nothing glowed like LA at night. The twinkle of the yellow and white lights never failed to make you feel alive. One among many but never truly alone. 

“Have we ever met in the daytime?” Tyrone asked. 

“Well, no but…c’mon,” you said. You couldn’t believe it. “Fangs” and red contacts did not equal a vampire. You didn’t know why you were reluctant to believe it. He seemed too alive to be dead. He breathed, he sighed, he ate food! 

Tyrone grinned, showing that hint of fang. The back of your thighs tingled. Desire pooling low in your belly. Everything about him turned you on. Still, he denied you. Only touched you when it was necessary.

When you were fed up with a dude, that was it. You were out of there. But Tyrone was intriguing. Interesting. He kept you guessing. Entertained. You didn’t know what he was going to say or do next. And you wanted to find out.

“Want me to show you?” He asked.

“How?” You asked.

One minute, you were standing outside the Getty. The next moment, you were at the bottom of the hill. You shrieked, holding onto Tyrone’s long sleeved shirt for dear life. You stared up into his flaming red eyes. His smile was predatory. 

In the next blink, you were back up the mountain outside the museum. He let you go and you moved away from him, backing into the railing so he couldn’t sneak up behind you. 

“You’re…”

He stood away from you, poised as if he were posing for a magazine. “A vampire. Like I’ve been telling you,” he said. That predatory grin was back. He stalked closer. You held your hand up. 

Your lip quivered. The mad dash up and down the mountain stole your breath and made you shiver. This was insane. Vampires? Like actual vampires? Blood-sucking vampires?

“So what? You were just playing with your food? Am I gonna end up on a T-shirt?” 

Tyrone

Tyrone shook his head. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone that far. You stood away from him. The flirty tone you always used with him was gone. Your beautiful eyes were wide, your breathing had increased.

Fuck. If he thought you smelled delicious before, your scent mixed with fear and it drove him wild. He took a step forward before he knew what he was doing. 

“No,” he said. He shook his head. He was under control. He could handle himself. “I’m not going to kill you. Would I have taken you on all of these dates if I was? I haven’t even touched you,” he said.

“Why is that?” You asked.

“I wanted you to know me before you found out. Find the man under the monster,” he said. 

You narrowed your eyes. Okay, he laid it on a little thick. But these dates only proved how obsessed he was with you. If no one else had claimed you, he was going to. He was going to have you.

Shit. Tyrone clenched his fists and stepped back from you. The tradition. How could he forget? He started the damn thing as a protective measure against discovery. He didn’t want to share you with the others. 

He also couldn’t leave you alone. Not until he finally got to taste you. Hold you. Move inside you. Even then, he wasn’t sure that’d be enough. 

“So, what? You were just going to date me until you asked for a drink from my wrist?” You weren’t as tense as before. You relaxed inch by inch. 

Tyrone approached you. He held up his hands as if to calm down a skittish deer. When he was close to you without crowding into you, you held up a hand.

“I just wanted to know you. You’re interesting,” he said.

“I’m interesting to a fuckin’ vampire?” You asked.

Tyrone nodded. He looked over you, over the olive green jumpsuit you wore. Your heels were going to be the true death of him. If he was lucky enough to take you to bed, you were keeping those on.

“The choice is always yours,” he said. Not. If he couldn’t have you one way, he’d sure as fuck find another way. “I can walk away right now. Leave you alone.” 

“No,” you said quickly.

A surge of triumph coursed through Tyrone. He felt like a fisherman with a tricky fish on the line. 

“I-I want to know more.” 

“Are you sure?” 

You bit your lip in that adorable way that made his dick twitch. You nodded and Tyrone answered with his own nod. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” 

True to his word, he did. He told you all about vampires and how to protect yourself over the next few dates. Though not all the ways. You would never get rid of him. Not if he could help it. He wanted to smell the sweetness coursing through your veins for the end of his days.

You were curious about him drinking your blood, even going as far to offer your wrist once. Tyrone declined and declined, giving you just enough hint to make you stomp your foot and beg for answers. 

He told you about the parties and why they were needed. He told you about the tradition. Each new donor was to be stripped and fucked and drunk from in front of the others. Mutually assured destruction. You could go to the cops, but you’d also have a room full of witnesses of you dallying with the devils. 

He expected you to balk then. To shut him up and resign yourself to keeping your virtue. To demand that he leave you alone and never speak to you again. Who would agree to such a thing? 

You had grinned. Perhaps you had a devil in you already. “Take me to one of the parties then,” you said.

You offered yourself up like a lamb to slaughter. How the hell did he get so damn lucky? 

“There’s no going back if I do,” he said. He ran his fingertips up and down your arm. 

“I want you to show me everything,” you said with a wide grin. 

Tyrone gave you a grin of his own, fangs and all. He pictured your descent into hell and relished the way he would eat you whole.

&&&

This has now been turned into a series! Read here: Midnight Sin Masterlist

Need more Tyrone in your life? The Secret Tyrone Files

[coraniaid]

🔥 - Cordelia

Cordelia is a character I generally like without actually thinking about her very much, if that makes sense? Maybe I would care about her more actively if I were more invested in Angel; or maybe knowing what that show will ultimately do to her is what stops me from getting invested in it. Not really sure either way to be honest.

As far as hot takes go ... well, I don't think I really buy into most of the Cordelia fanon I sometimes see on Tumblr. Can't really put why better than I did last year. Like I said in my recent Faith hot take: I don't like the fanon instinct to try to make characters nicer and more sympathetic than they're presented as in canon, especially when they have some kind of canonical redemption arc. You're getting rid of one of the more interesting things about them! Why?

On the other hand, I do like the headcanon (not originally mine - I think I got this from @all-seeing-ifer) that Cordelia is ace, or at least that she's accidently ace-coded. I mean, I certainly don't think it is at all deliberate on the part of the writers, but when you go to look there sure are a lot of scenes in which Cordelia either expresses disinterest in (sometimes even disgust at) the very idea of sex (in Faith, Hope & Trick for example: "not the horny thing -- yuck!") or admits to being confused by the thought that other people might want to have sex (in Innocence, for example, she asks Xander with seeming genuine puzzlement: "does looking at guns really make girls want to have sex? That's scary.").

Oh, and although the show is really not clear on this at all, I think the high school Scooby dynamic is slightly more interesting if Willow and Cordelia were (briefly) friends when they were both much younger. To borrow a term I saw recently, this is more canon compatible than canon compliant -- I don't think anything in canon rules it out, but it's a bit of a stretch to say this something that actually comes from canon.

Certainly Xander and Cordelia knew each other from a very young age (they've known each other for at least twelve years in Season 2, as per The Dark Age). And as Willow and Xander were friends as early as kindergarten (which is confirmed in Grave if not before), I think it's safe to assume Cordelia knew Willow at that age too. In Innocence Willow reminds Xander of the "We Hate Cordelia" club ("of which you are treasurer!"), but we don't know exactly when this was formed (I'm guessing a while ago though, given the childishness of the name). What if said club was something Willow formed only after she and Cordelia stopped being friends? After Cordelia met Harmony, say (who we also know, from Graduation Day, is somebody Willow has known for at least a decade: "she picked on me for ten years") and chose being popular over her previous friendship?

Again, I suspect this isn't intentional but it's a take I rather like, and one that I think makes a bit of internal sense. Willow and Cordelia do actually seem to get on better than you might think in the early seasons -- when there's nobody else around for Cordelia to try to impress by putting Willow down, anyway (among other examples, see their intereactions throughout Prophecy Girl). And while Willow obviously doesn't like, say, Harmony -- in fact she hates her "with a fiery vengeance" according to Graduation Day again -- there was apparently no "we hate Harmony" club. What makes Cordelia different (beyond being a main character when Harmony isn't, which is probably what the writers actually had in mind).

Well, what if Cordelia isn't just one of the many people who bullied Willow in high school: what if she was her friend until she ditched her to be more popular? Wouldn't that sting just a little bit more?

We know that Cordelia is actually pretty smart, even though she tries to play it down ("I have some experience of covering these things up," she tells Xander after he sees her SAT scores in Lovers Walk; and don't forget she'd previously said she was "looking forward" to taking the SATs because she "does well in standardized testing" and was accepted into multiple good schools she just couldn't afford to attend). In fact, Cordelia basically has to be academically successful in high school in order to fulfull her primary role as Buffy's shadow self.

But if Cordelia consciously realised at some point that she should hide how smart she is from her peers in order to be popular, is it that much of a stretch to think she also decided to cut off her existing friendship with Willow, who Principal Snyder describes in Doppelgangland as represenative of "the pinnacle of academic achievement at Sunnydale High"?

Also, in the spirit of this post about parallels between Willow and Cordelia (which I really like), it's interesting to compare Willow's nightmare in Restless -- being back in high school and somehow being Found Out -- with Cordelia's fear in Season 1's Nightmares of being dragged into the chess club (which, at least in the language of television) is easy to read as a metaphor for being exposed as somebody who is secretly brainy and perhaps enjoys stereotypically academic or nerdy things. Just like Willow does, in fact.

Remember what Cordelia tells Buffy all the way back in Welcome To The Hellmouth when they run into Willow: "if you want to fit in here, the first rule is: know your losers". That is: Cordelia tells Buffy, the girl who she serves as a mirror of all season, that if she wants to fit in she'll have to choose not to be friends with Willow (and instead performatively belittle and bully her whenever she has an audience). Is it that much of a leap to suppose that a much younger Cordelia once learned that lesson herself?